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Author: rich.sanidad Story: One Blink Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Warning: Violence, extreme language Reviews: 4 Words: 56,312
High above the forest, the afternoon sun shone down upon the landscape. Its rays illuminated the Scottish highlands, giving them a warm glow that seemed to come from within. It was the type of sight that would have made a good tourist attraction, if only it were easily accessible by Muggles. Presently, only one person was observing it, hoping its majesty would help ease his troubled mind. As he dangled his legs over a small ledge, he took a deep breath and shook his head. He was thankful for the opportunity to see such beauty, yet dumbfounded as to how and why he and his friends had made it here. Any one of them could just as easily be dead, and he closed his eyes in disbelief at their luck. His memories of the past few weeks were a collection of blurry images, and he was thankful for it. They had barely escaped their infiltration of the Ministry of Magic alive, and at the moment, he was not eager to relive the experience, even if only in hindsight. On top of that, they had lost their refuge at number twelve Grimmauld Place. Since then, every day had become a lesson in survival. It had been a warm autumn so far, much to their benefit. They had been sleeping in a tent for about two weeks, and would continue to do so for the foreseeable future. Food was a constant point of contention, and he decided to think of something else, lest his stomach remind him how long ago their last good meal was. He turned to his side and looked back at the beautiful young woman sleeping on the ground behind him. He had tried to convince her not to come, wishing futilely that she would stay safely at the Burrow, but he knew the outcome of that confrontation before it had even begun. If she were to ask him, he would have to admit that he was glad she had come along. And although he would never divulge it willingly, he was thankful for her determination and her strong will. It brought out the best in him. He had never had a reputation for being romantic, but when he was with her, he could not help but be... inspired, on occasion. A small smile formed on his lips as he thought back a couple nights to his failed attempt at a romantic dinner for the two of them: berries, nuts and some pork pies he had nicked in the last Muggle town they had visited. She had scolded him at first, saying they should be sharing what he had procured, and proceeded to separate their share from rest. But the half-smile that broke through at the end of her tirade gave her away. She had appreciated his efforts, and was more than happy to show him how much later that night. He was startled from his reverie by a soft, sleepy voice. "Ron?" Mildly startled, he crawled over to where his girlfriend was sleeping. He looked down at her and reached over to move a lock of brown hair that was covering her face. "I'm here," he said quietly. He chuckled silently as she screwed up her eyes and stretched, unintentionally imitating her beloved Crookshanks in the process. She yawned as she sat up, after which she reached her arms towards the sky and stretched again. "It's beautiful out here," she said as she blinked away the dregs of sleep in her eyes. "Yeah..." said Ron, turning back to the lush green hills in front of them. "Where is he?" "Back at camp. Where else?" "Examining the locket, I take it?" Ron grunted noncommittally. Hermione brought her arms back down and shook her head ruefully. "I still say we should take turns carrying it." The lanky redhead exhaled tiredly. "I know..." She narrowed her eyes at his reply. "I thought you agreed with me." Ron paused for a moment before replying. "I do—I've already told you that—but I don't even know how to talk to him about it. He's not... he's not the Harry we used to know anymore. All he does is bark out orders like we're in the army or something." Hermione frowned, but nodded her head in acknowledgment. "I know what you mean. He's worse than he was at Grimmauld Place. Ever since we got the locket he's been so... single-minded." "Exactly. He's never been this worked up over anything—not even for the Triwizard Tournament. If he's not trying to open the locket, he's planning where we should go next to find another Horcrux and where we can set up our camp and... It's like he's turned into—" "Me?" Ron gave her a small smile. "I was going to say Moody." She huffed in reply. "So, how do we convince him to give it up?" Ron continued. "The last thing we should do is make it look like we're ganging up on him." Hermione nodded as she plucked a blade of grass from the ground. "I don't know... I don't like seeing him like this. We need to think of something soon, though. I know he said that he's not wearing the locket anymore now that we know how it can affect us, but I still don't trust him spending so much time with it." Ron adjusted his posture and pulled her to his side, letting her lean her head on his shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll think of something." * Meanwhile, several yards into the nearby forest, a pair of anxious green eyes appraised the tired couple. They were talking about him. Again. As much as they were all supposed to be the closest of friends, it was odd how no one was able to muster up the courage to discuss the wall growing between them. He could not really blame them for being suspicious of him, he supposed. He knew months ago that things were going to be different. He had contemplated that particular memory several times in the past few days. He remembered getting off the Hogwarts Express in June and greeting the Weasleys. There was a time when he would have been gratified by their presence before having to face the Dursleys, but all he felt on that occasion was guilt for Bill's death. He avoided looking Mrs. Weasley in the eye, but could not stop himself from feeling disappointed when her greeting hug lacked much of its usual strength and spirit. And then Ron and Hermione stepped off the train—together. They were immediately surrounded by a small sea of redheads, and Harry's heart sank when he saw Hermione succumb to the crush of Mrs. Weasley's exuberance. He stood beyond the circle as Fred and George needled Ron and Hermione blushed. When Mr. and Mrs. Granger joined the group, he noticed a subtle glance between mother and daughter, one that he realised he would not have seen if he were truly part of the celebration. And then Ron had jumped back into the train without even acknowledging his and Hermione's new relationship with him. It was at that moment that he truly felt how alone he was in his mission; no one else could or would ever really understand the burden he bore. He decided that he did not begrudge Ron and Hermione their happiness, but it was too difficult to stand by and watch, so he quietly grabbed his things and began walking to the barrier back to Muggle London. As much as he hated his relatives, he was suddenly eager to get away from the magical world for a bit and get his head together. He had almost stopped when he heard Ginny's voice calling to him, but he was thankful that the thought of indulging himself to see her one more time had not connected with his feet. At the time, he did not need another reminder that the world was moving on without him—especially if that reminder was of Ginny and Dean's renewed relationship. He sighed as his mind came back to the present. It did not matter that he knew the truth about them now. The sooner he embraced his destiny, the sooner the rest of them could move on with their lives. His hand came up and pulled up the locket from inside his shirt. Its metal exterior felt cold and did not warm at his touch. It was true he had promised his friends he would only keep it in his pocket, but he did not feel safe keeping it there. He found himself constantly patting his thigh to make sure it had not fallen out. The new habit was terribly distracting, and he needed to be focussed on finding the other Horcruxes. He sighed. At least he had this one. And while it was true that he could not have retrieved the locket from the Ministry without his friends, he was losing patience with their distractions. Pork pies. Afternoon naps. Taking their night watches together, and their ensuing inattentiveness. He scowled quietly. They would not even consider acknowledging the significance of his latest visions of the thief that had stolen something from Gregorovitch, the wand maker that Voldemort had seen fit to visit personally. Ron pretended that he thought it was important, but Harry knew better. Neither one of them did anything anymore without at least sharing a glance with the other. Perhaps it would be best if he took care of them before they turned against him... * The murmuring in the Great Hall should have been more indicative of a weekend meal than a Monday breakfast, but this was not a typical school year. Ginny lifted her head from her plate and looked around the room sadly. With Hogwarts essentially under the control of Voldemort's Death Eaters, all of the Muggle-borns and other students of "questionable ancestry" had not returned, reducing the school population significantly. As her eyes came to rest on a certain spot on the Gryffindor table, she sighed in sadness at three chairs whose emptiness underscored how different things were now compared to only a few months ago. She felt someone's eyes staring at her and she looked up at the front of the hall. Snape looked away as she panned the head table, poorly disguising the fact that he had been observing her. Ginny shivered involuntarily, and then chastised herself for letting him get to her. She needed to be strong. She could just imagine telling Harry all about it when he came back... if he came back. She looked back down at her plate and pushed around the eggs on it. She was just about to give up on it and grab her rucksack so she could get to class early, when someone fell into the seat next to her. "We've got to stop meeting like this." Ginny smiled as she looked up at her friend. Despite the horrible environment in which they found themselves, Neville refused to give in to despair. With Harry, Ron and Hermione gone, the two of them had stepped up as the de facto leaders of the students who opposed the Death Eaters, with Luna rounding out their own trio. The faithful Ravenclaw provided the quiet support that no one really saw, but Ginny and Neville knew was vital. As the last heir to Fred and George's legacy, Ginny planned their activities, placing more emphasis on safety and deniability than her predecessors. But it was Neville who fuelled their rebellion with his endless enthusiasm and strength of spirit. It was as if he had needed Harry and the others to leave before he could truly blossom. "Like what?" she replied. "You know... over breakfast, with you moping because you're not with Harry." "I'm not moping!" Her eyes flashed dangerously at him. "There we are. That's the Ginny Weasley I was hoping to find." The beautiful redhead blinked in mild surprise. "What are you on about?" Neville casually looked over both shoulders before answering. "We need to do something again. The Carrows' detentions are starting to bring people down. When I walk through the hallways, I see too many kids with dull eyes, as if we've already lost the fight." Ginny nodded, but turned back to her breakfast so as not to draw attention to their conversation. "What do you have in mind?" she asked quietly, before taking a bite of sausage. Neville pursed his lips as he served some eggs onto his plate. "I'm not sure," he said eventually. "On the one hand, it has to be something more than just mouthing off in class or Canary Creams in their tea—we don't need more stories of people breaking down in one of the Carrows' detentions. People have to stop being afraid of standing up to them." Ginny swallowed as she pondered his words. "So what you're saying is we need something that people will hear about, but can't be traced back to us, even though everyone will know we did it." Neville's eyes darted to the side, though he kept his face on his plate. "You have something in mind?" he asked eagerly. "Just trying to think like the twins." He stifled a chuckle in his throat. "We have to stop smiling. We can't have them suspecting anything before we've even started planning." Showing a great deal of self-control, Ginny recaptured the stoic look she had been displaying before Neville joined her. "So you don't have any ideas?" she asked once she felt more composed. "Not really," he said with a very slight shake of the head. "I've never been much of a prankster." Ginny said nothing, her mind actively working to find some source of inspiration for their next act of defiance. "The only thing I could come up with," Neville continued, "was that I wish we could do something that could help the fight outside of Hogwarts too." Ginny nodded almost imperceptibly. "That would be a big deal." "I wish—" Neville stopped abruptly and took another bite of toast. "Go on..." He shook his head. "Never mind. It's just as well." "Spit it out." Ginny's voice commanded his obedience. "Well... I was thinking that if we had a way to get in touch with Harry and the others we might steal some information from Snape or the Carrows or something." Ginny's vision suddenly cleared as an idea dawned in her mind. Although she knew better, she could not stop herself from looking back up at the head table. She instantly regretted it as she made eye contact with Snape, who did not shy away this time. His cold eyes seemed to almost penetrate her mind and she turned her head quickly to re-focus on her plate. "Ginny?" asked Neville worriedly. She took a few deep breaths as she waited for her heart to slow. She paused momentarily as she debated the wisdom of such a venture. But in the end, there was nothing for it. It was perfect. "There is one thing we could do..." * Ron sat up and rubbed his eyes. He lifted his wrist to look at his watch and swore mildly to himself. He then reached under his pillow and grabbed his wand. Holding it aloft, he whispered, "Lumos." Now that he could see properly, he took another look at his watch. A quarter to two. He breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione would have killed him if he overslept again. If he hurried, he could join her for a few minutes before she turned in for the rest of the night. Carefully, so as not to disturb Harry, Ron grabbed his clothes from underneath the bed and retreated to another part of the tent to get dressed. Stepping out of the tent, he looked to his left and right, searching for Hermione. He found her a couple of yards away, staring down a path through the trees that eventually stopped at a road that led to the nearby town. As he sat down next to her, he put his arm around her shoulders, enjoying the fluttering in his stomach caused by feeling her breath on his neck. "All right, luv?" he asked quietly. "Yes... now." He could not stop the grin that broke out on his face, even if he had wanted to. Although her words professed contentment, he could feel the tension in her posture. "What's wrong?" He kept his voice to a near-whisper. She chuckled as she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. She arched an eyebrow, but remained silent. Ron rolled his eyes. "Sorry. Bad question. What's been on your mind, then?" Hermione exhaled tiredly as she rested her head on his shoulder again. "Not 'what.' Who." "Harry?" She nodded before replying. "He's only got worse over the past few weeks. He's not sleeping or eating—nothing that can be considered healthy, anyway—and he spends all his time with the locket." "Well... not all his time." Hermione looked up at her boyfriend. "What do you mean?" "I caught him with the Map once, and he tried to hide the fact he was looking at it." "The Marauder's Map?" "No, the other one that tells us where all the Horcruxes are hidden." "Prat," said Hermione as she slapped his chest. "I think... I think he was looking for Ginny." Neither said anything for several minutes as they contemplated Ron's revelation. Finally, Hermione wrapped her outside arm around his waist and buried her face deeper into him. "Good." "Good?" Ron asked in confusion. "Yes. He doesn't realise it, but he needs something to look forward to—something to make all of this worth it." "Ridding the world of You-Know-Who isn't 'worth it?'" "Of course it is," she replied. "But he also needs to have something to live for. The way he's... attacking everything, it's like he's doesn't think he's going to live through this." Ron's eyebrows went up reflexively. "You don't think he wants to die, do you?" "No..." Hermione responded hesitantly. "But he needs to know that there's something waiting for him when all is said and done." "And you think Ginny is what he needs?" "Don't you?" Ron paused a moment to think before responding. "Yeah... I'll admit it took some time to get used to the idea, but now... it's actually kind of frustrating to think that they haven't been able to get together yet." Hermione looked at him sceptically. "What?" "Who are you and what have you done with Ron Weasley?" Ron tickled her in the ribs with the hand that had been resting on her shoulder. She gasped and tried to squirm out of his grip, small giggles escaping from her mouth. "Stop! Stop!" she panted. "You'll wake up Harry!" "You mean you'll wake up Harry." "Git," she said, slapping him on the chest again, harder this time. They settled back into position and Ron kissed the top of her forehead in apology. "Did you mean what you said earlier?" asked Hermione. "About what?" "About wishing they were already together?" Ron tilted his head as he gathered his thoughts. "Yeah... it's just odd how something or other always seems to stop them from following through." Both of them contemplated this point for several minutes. Hermione's eyelids grew heavy and she leaned into Ron more and more. "Damn," he finally said, breaking the silence. "What?" Ron sighed as he recalled their last day at The Burrow. "I really should learn how to knock." * When Hermione finally stood up, Harry quietly crept back to his bed. He quickly slipped into his bunk and turned onto his side so she would not be able to see his face when she entered the sleeping area. He slipped his hand under his pillow to recreate the position in which he had woken up before getting out of bed to watch them. As always, he would wait until he was sure she was asleep before letting himself sleep as well. They had been talking about him again. There was no mistaking it this time. Although they were facing away from the tent, their voices carried over quite clearly over the still early morning air whenever their conversation grew more animated. Obviously, he needed to re-evaluate how much they were really helping him at this point. Although their words professed concern for his well-being, his two friends spared few thoughts for the Horcrux hunt. They could very well be more of a hindrance now than an asset. He suppressed a scowl as he heard her enter the tent. The sounds of her footsteps indicated she had gone to the loo, but Harry stayed in control, not moving a muscle. Minutes later, she finally approached the sleeping area, but stopped near the foot of his bed. Harry froze in place, focussing on making his breathing sound as normal as possible. But the erstwhile "brightest witch at Hogwarts" stayed rooted in place. Why was she watching him so intently? Was she going to make a play for the locket? Underneath his pillow, Harry subconsciously tightened his grip on his wand. He could feel himself starting to sweat from the tension of the moment. If necessary, he would need to subdue Hermione without alerting Ron. What should he use? Petrificus Totalus? Silencio? Suddenly, Hermione sighed. Harry cursed himself as he involuntarily tensed at the sound, but surreptitiously began removing his wand from under his pillow. And then she did something he had not expected; she climbed into her bed and closed her eyes to sleep. Still posed to appear asleep, Harry closed his eyes. His heart was hammering in his chest and his breathing was quick and shallow. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to stay quiet as his body came down from its brief adrenaline rush. Finally, after several minutes, he was able to breathe freely, without feeling as if he needed to control every intake of air. He turned his head slightly and listened for sounds coming from Hermione's bunk. Her breathing was slow and regular, and he could hear a slight wheeze whenever she inhaled, the remnants of a slight cold she had picked up a few weeks ago. She was asleep. He pulled out his wand and whispered, "Lumos." His gift from the Weasleys told him it was quarter to four. If he could just relax, he might get two hours sleep before the end of Ron's watch, when they would pack up camp and go to their next destination. He began to recall what he had planned for their next move when his eyes strayed back to the watch. His planning paused as memories of Ginny rolled through his mind. "Stop being weak, Potter," he whispered to himself as he stifled the familiar yearning to return to The Burrow. But try as he might, it proved very difficult to remove images of his adopted home and of Ginny from his thoughts. He was still awake when Ron entered the tent and began cleaning a few handfuls of wild berries he had collected for their breakfast. * Ginny swore softly as she followed her friends into the Forbidden Forest. They had nearly got away with it. She actually had the sword of Gryffindor in her hands before Snape's untimely return had forced them to relinquish it. Just another few steps and they would have been out of the spiral stairwell and into the seventh-floor halls. She cursed their luck. They had been very careful when planning the theft; no one outside of the three of them knew what was being planned, so no one could have betrayed them. She and Neville had also kept close watch over each other and Luna to verify that the Carrows did not have any opportunities to interrogate any of them or slip Veritaserum into their pumpkin juice. From using Extendable Ears to get the password to the Headmaster's office, to surreptitiously following Snape to learn his daily schedule, every detail had been planned to the best of their ability. She shook her head in frustration. It was poor luck, just like losing the Snitch last May. Tonight was the last in a series of seven detentions they had been assigned to spend with Hagrid. It was by far the easiest punishment they had received this year, although it probably sounded awful to those who were not on friendly terms with the half-giant gamekeeper. She had discussed this with Neville and it made no sense to them that it came in response to their boldest act of defiance yet. Neville was willing to accept it and move on; Ginny, less so. At the moment, however, she could come up with no plausible explanations and put the matter out of her mind lest she accidentally walk into an Acromantula nest or something. Unfortunately, the topic that most readily occupied her consciousness instead was that of the safety and whereabouts of Harry, Ron and Hermione. She normally did not think about them until late at night when she was safely in her four-poster and trying to fall asleep. Tonight, however, her thoughts and worries could not be denied. Something was gnawing at her subconscious. She had the feeling that something horrible was happening to them, and she had trouble discarding the irrational guilt she felt because she could not help them. Off to her right, she heard Neville call out her name and break her train of thought. As she turned to join her friends, she squeezed her wand and made a wish that they be kept safe. It was a desperate sort of wish, like she used to make when she was a child, but for now it was all she had to give. * As much as Harry had grown accustomed to silence—especially over the last two weeks, the cloud of quiet unease that currently hung in the tent was beginning to be more than he could stand. He could practically see the wheels turning in Ron and Hermione's heads, and he wondered what they were up to. Yesterday, they had overheard a conversation of a party of fugitives that included two goblins, Griphook and Gornuk, and three wizards, Dirk Cresswell, Ted Tonks and Dean Thomas. He had immediately asked Hermione to bring out the portrait of Phineas Nigellus, upon which he had deluged him with questions to corroborate the rumours they had picked up from the refugees. While the former headmaster could not confirm that the sword currently residing in Gringotts was a fake, Harry now knew that the real one could destroy Horcruxes. The problem was that if Griphook was correct, and the sword in Gringotts was a forgery, they were then faced with the dilemma of locating the real one. And although he tried not to think about it, there was also the issue of Ginny. What the bloody hell was she doing taking risks like that? He had not suppressed his feelings for her and devoted himself to this mission just to have her put herself in harm's way. Harry was startled from his thoughts when Ron, of all people, spoke up. "So... about yesterday..." Harry looked up and regarded his friend cautiously. "Yes?" "I reckon we should be looking for the sword, right?" The lanky boy's voice was tentative, as if he was afraid of Harry or what his reaction might be. What was he playing at? It was not as if he and Hermione still looked to Harry for leadership. That bridge had been burned weeks ago. Harry nodded his head slowly as he responded. "The thought had crossed my mind, yes..." "So... shall we go to Hogwarts then?" asked Hermione. Harry was wondering when she would unleash her shrill voice. Despite their outward deference to his opinions, he was inwardly quite alarmed. They had been plotting against him for the past few weeks. Why were they being so amenable now? "Why are you two so eager to go to Hogwarts?" Hermione refrained from making eye contact with Ron, but her boyfriend slipped ever so slightly when his eyes sought hers unsuccessfully. The subtle glance was not lost on Harry, who suppressed a smirk that tugged at his lips. He had the advantage again now that he knew for sure that they were up to something. "It's quite obvious why you two want to go to Hogwarts, you know." Harry kept his face stony as he proffered his bluff. "It is?" said Ron worriedly. Hermione flashed her boyfriend an annoyed look, and Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep that smirk off his face again. "Go on... what do you two have planned?" "What are you talking about?" Hermione's face displayed confusion, but Harry knew better. He had seen her lie her way out of difficult situations in the past and he was not about to get caught in whatever trap she had dreamed up. "You may as well come clean," he said. "It's not as if I haven't noticed all of your sneaking around." "We haven't been sneaking around," protested Hermione. "You're the one who's stopped talking to us." "Why should I talk to you? It's obvious you don't care about this mission as much as I do." "That's a lie!" said Ron, standing up. "How can you say that after what this war has cost my family?" Harry was taken aback by the other boy's outburst. Had he already forgotten why he wanted to finish his mission quickly? No, of course not. If they really wanted to help they would not have spent so much time plotting behind his back. But plotting what, exactly? He shook his head. It didn't matter. This was something he needed to do alone, anyway. He'd known it all along. "Why are you shaking your head?" asked Ron. "Don't worry about it," Harry replied tersely. "You never answered my question about going to Hogwarts." "We just think it would be a good idea to get the sword of Gryffindor," said Hermione. "The sooner we're rid of that locket, the better." "There's no guarantee the sword is still at Hogwarts. What's the real reason you're so eager to go there?" "You're imagining things," said Ron. "Am I?" countered Harry. "Have I been imagining how you two have been talking behind my back?" "We haven't—" "Don't try to deny it!" Harry could feel his breathing quickening. "Fine!" said Hermione. "You want the truth? How's this? You haven't been acting like yourself for months." "That's ridiculous. Just because I've been more focused on the mission—" "It's not just that, Harry! Ever since we got the locket from Umbridge you've completely turned your back on us." "I wouldn't have if you two could stay focussed on what's important," he replied defensively. "We do know what's important," said Ron. "Prove it." At this ultimatum, Ron and Hermione paused to share a glance. Hermione had a questioning look in her eyes, while Ron's looked indecisive. Finally, Ron gathered his resolve and spoke. "We think it would be a good idea for you to see Ginny." For a moment, Harry was speechless. "Harry?" said Hermione tentatively. "What does she have to do with anything?" "If you're really going to succeed, you need to be reminded of what we're fighting for." Harry snorted. "Ginny's the one who needs reminding." "What do you mean by that?" asked Ron. "I mean that we're not out here avoiding Dementors and Death Eaters just so she can risk her neck for a stupid prank." "Don't call my sister stupid!" "I will if she deserves it!" "Harry! Harry!" interrupted Hermione. "Don't you see? Would you have ever called Ginny 'stupid' a few months ago?" Harry opened his mouth, but said nothing. He looked down at his feet and seemed to be collecting his thoughts. Several minutes later, Hermione tried to make more progress. She tried to keep her voice gentle and steady. "You're barely eating or sleeping... you won't let us help you... it has to stop." "That's not all that's going to stop," Harry said with a sigh. "What do you mean?" said Ron. "It's time to end these distractions," said Harry, and he pulled out his wand. * Ginny was quite anxious to finally reach The Burrow. For one, she needed to send Pigwidgeon to Luna with a short note to make sure everything was all right. The whimsical Ravenclaw had excused herself to go to the loo, but never returned to the compartment they were sharing with Neville. Ginny had wanted to wait for her after the Hogwarts Express pulled into platform nine and three quarters, but her parents had rushed her along, saying they needed to return home as soon as possible. And that was the second reason she wanted to get home; her parents had been acting quite peculiar since she found them at King's Cross Station. She knew better than to ask them direct questions for news on Harry, Ron and Hermione in public, but even during the car ride home, they were being suspiciously aloof. Finally, the scenery outside turned into the familiar setting of Ottery St. Catchpole. Ginny hopped out of the car as soon as it stopped and opened the rear door to retrieve her trunk. As she shut the boot, she turned to see her parents just stepping into the threshold of the Burrow. There was no mistaking it now. Something big was distracting them and drawing their attention into the house. She stomped forcefully after them, dragging her trunk behind her. "Mum? Dad?" she called as she closed the front door. No one responded. Annoyed, she dropped her trunk with a loud thud and continued her march into the family room. "Will someone explain to me what the bloo—" Ginny stopped short at the sight waiting for her in the sitting room. The shock of it caused her to stop breathing and she coughed to begin breathing again when she eventually regained her senses. "What are you doing here?"
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