"She's in Wales."

"Wales?!" exclaimed Ron. At the same time Hermione asked, "How do you know that?"

"Reperio spell," replied Harry. "I saw this ruin of a castle on a hill, and somehow I knew it was in Wales."

"What are we waiting for, then?" said Ron. "Let's go after her."

Harry was already opening his trunk. "Wait a moment here," said Hermione. "We can't just go haring off like this. Harry, do you know where specifically in Wales this ruin is?"

Harry looked up at her reluctantly. "No."

"How were you planning on pinpointing it then? Fly all over the place on your brooms until you'd found it?"

Harry laid his winter cloak back in his trunk. How had she guessed? What Hermione was trying to say made perfect sense, but he didn't feel like listening to reason. He wanted to act. Now. He didn't want to stop and think things through. It looked as if Ron was feeling the same way. He was pacing restlessly about the dormitory.

"What the hell are we supposed to do then?" Harry asked, his voice louder than necessary. "It's not as if that letter came with a street map."

"No," Hermione said slowly, "no it didn't. But I think there's more to it than meets the eye. That first sentence was very odd. There's got to be a clue in there somewhere. Can I have it again?"

Harry pulled the parchment from the pocket into which he'd thrust it earlier before running up to the dormitory. " 'Oh ye of little faith,' " Harry read dully, " 'take care lest you fall into a trap. She whom you seek is not yet beyond your reach, but she will be if you do not act quickly. Come alone and tell no one.' Complete bollocks!" He tossed the parchment onto his bed.

Hermione frowned and shook her head. "I can't work it out. It's almost as if… But at least we have Wales to go on. Now, who do we know who lives in Wales?"

"Nobody," said Harry. Ron was shaking his head in the negative as well, as he continued pacing.

"We don't even know for certain why she's been taken," said Hermione.

Ron stopped short. "Well, I think that's clear enough!" His voice had gone hard, and his eyes were narrowed at Harry.

"What are you trying to imply by that?" Harry asked.

"Just that if you'd been able to keep your hands off her, maybe she wouldn't be such a target for Death Eaters."

An unbidden memory of stargazing on the roof invaded Harry's senses. He stared stonily at Ron. "Who says I've been putting my hands on her?"

"STOP IT! Both of you." Hermione has stepped between the boys. "Honestly, what are you two going to accomplish by fighting? Besides," she added with a quelling look at Ron, "we don't know she's been taken because she's Harry's girlfriend. If You Know Who wanted to go after someone close to Harry, why single out Ginny? Why not go after his godfather? Or one of us? No, I think Ginny may have been singled out for another reason."

"Because she made Harry that necklace?" asked Ron. Hermione nodded. "But how did You Know Who find that out? That's been kept dead secret."

"I don't know how it got out. I can't explain it." Hermione was obviously not very happy about having to admit this. "But it makes sense."

"Then why send Harry a letter telling him to come after her?" Ron went on. "If You Know Who wanted Ginny to make him a necklace like Harry's, why bother even letting Harry know he's got her?"

"The letter wasn't signed," Harry pointed out. "In any case, I'm fairly sure it's not Voldemort. My scar hasn't been bothering me at all. We're assuming Death Eaters may have her. Fact is, we don't know for certain. The only things we have to go on are Wales and some strange phrasing. We have no idea what to expect when we find Ginny."

"Wales," Hermione repeated. "You know, I remember reading something about that somewhere…"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. They both knew where this was headed, and the idea of poring over books only increased Harry's frustration. He wanted to feel like he was doing something more tangible to find Ginny, something like jumping onto his Firebolt and flying into the cold, wintry night.

"Come on, you two can help me," Hermione was saying. She was halfway to the door. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry and followed. Harry dragged his feet all the way down to the common room. He couldn't think of anything he felt less like doing at the moment. He sat down at a table, slouching in his chair, and drummed his fingers while waiting for Hermione to return with the inevitable stack of books. Ron didn't look any more enthusiastic than Harry felt.

"Just what are we supposed to be looking for?" asked Ron, as he opened the tome Hermione handed him.

"Any reference to Wales or places in Wales." She was already turning pages rapidly, running an index finger along each leaf.

Harry couldn't help but wonder if she was just trying to keep them occupied while she searched. How could either he or Ron know what she was looking for? Something about Wales had obviously jogged her memory, but there was no way either of the boys was likely to recognise it even if he saw it. He tried to concentrate on what he was doing, but the text of the letter kept distracting him. It had said to come quickly or Ginny might be beyond his reach. And here he was wasting time squinting at fine print on tissue-thin pages.

He forced himself to sit still and concentrate. Ron didn't seem to be having any better luck in that department; he kept sighing and running a hand distractedly through his hair. After an hour or so Harry had had enough. This wasn't going to get them anywhere! He slammed shut the copy of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts when he came upon the passage that mentioned his defeat of Voldemort as a baby. Hermione and Ron both looked up at him.

"I can't do this!" he shouted, standing too quickly and knocking his chair over. "I can't just sit here and do nothing!"

"Harry," Hermione said soothingly, "why don't you go down to the kitchens and get us something to eat?" She had calmed down considerably on the subject of house elves ever since Professor Dumbledore had offered to pay all the Hogwarts elves wages and give them days off. The elves had refused pay and holidays for the most part, and Ron had been a bit smug about that for a while.

They had all missed supper, but Harry wasn't hungry at all. On the other hand, he'd be moving, and maybe he could work off some of the energy he was brimming with. He nodded curtly and turned towards the portrait hole. "Get some extra while you're there," Ron called after him. "We might need it."

Harry made his way quietly to the Entrance Hall. He'd left the common room too quickly and hadn't thought of returning to his dormitory for the invisibility cloak and the Marauders' Map until it was too late. Fortunately, Mundungus Fletcher seemed to have gone to bed, and Harry didn't encounter Filch, Mrs Norris or Peeves. The castle was almost eerily quiet.

He continued down to the corridor with the brightly coloured paintings of food. It all looked overly cheerful, Harry thought. Glumly, he tickled the pear in the midst of its fruit bowl and entered the kitchens. They seemed as deserted as the rest of the castle at this late hour. Most of the house elves must be either in bed by now or off tending to duties elsewhere.

Not all of them, as Harry soon found out. He was just moving towards a likely-looking cupboard wondering if he would find anything edible inside, when a rather piercing squeak made him jump. It wasn't long before a small figure had hurtled itself at Harry and was hugging him tightly about his thighs.

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter! You is come to see Dobby!" squealed an excited voice.

Harry suppressed a groan. He was definitely not feeling up to Dobby's typical exuberance. "Erm, yeah."

"Where are your Wheezy and his lady?"

"Back in the common room." Dobby let out a giggle. "What's so funny?"

"Sir…" He giggled some more. "Dobby really shouldn't say, sir. Dobby will have to punish himself."

"Is it bad then?"

"Not bad…" Dobby looked around as if he was afraid someone would overhear. When he continued his voice had dropped to a whisper. "Dobby saw them, sir, your Wheezy and his lady. Last week. In a supplies closet…"

"But they didn't see you?" Harry was sure he knew the answer to that, as this was the first he was hearing of the incident.

"Oh no, sir. They was busy!" Dobby said gleefully.

Harry made a mental note to avoid choosing supplies closets the next time he was looking for a place to snog in. The idea of Dobby walking in on him and Ginny might even be a good image to keep in mind if things started getting out of control. But then he remembered that Ginny was gone, and he had to go after her.

His thoughts must have shown on his face for Dobby said, "Something is wrong, Harry Potter."

"Yeah, it is. Listen, Dobby, we've all managed to miss supper. Ron, Hermione and me, that is. Would you mind getting us something I can take back to the common room with me?"

Harry was surprised when Dobby didn't immediately hop into action. "What about your other Wheezy?"

Harry had to pause a moment before he realised the elf was referring to Ginny. Then he wondered how much he could tell Dobby. The note had said to tell no one, and he'd already let Ron and Hermione in on it. They didn't count though. He knew he could trust them. Dobby, on the other hand, might let something slip, but would that be a bad thing?

"Dobby, something's happened to Ginny." Dobby let out a horrified squeal at this. "You can't tell anyone about this, all right? I have to go find her. Look, do you think you could make me some extra to take along? I don't know how long I'll be gone."

Dobby wiped a tear away from the corner of his eye. "You is a great wizard, Harry Potter. I is happy to make you provisions."

Some time later, Harry lugged an enormous sack full of food up seven floors to the portrait hole. Dobby has made him several dozen sandwiches and included a selection of fruit, some cold chicken, and a jug of pumpkin juice, as well as a good many different desserts. There seemed to be enough to feed a small army, but Harry wasn't sure how he'd be able to transport it all once he was travelling. The sack was bulky and cumbersome.

He had to wake the Fat Lady up before she swung forward to admit him. Then he had to heave the sack through the portrait hole. He emerged into the common room sweaty and disgruntled, some of his panicky energy expended but not in a considerably better mood. It didn't help matters than when he looked up, he saw Ron and Hermione sitting very close together on one of the sofas, rather than diligently paging through Hermione's books.

"Taking a break, are we?"

Ron and Hermione separated quickly. "Did you bring us something to eat?" asked Ron.

"Yes, we all need to keep our strength up," added Hermione.

Harry passed out sandwiches, toying with the idea of telling them that Dobby had caught them in the supplies closet. That idea fled his mind very quickly, however, when Hermione said, "Harry, I think I've found her."

"Really? Where?"

"Look, it's all here in Prominent Pureblood Wizarding Families," she replied, rising and going over to the table where the tome was lying open. "There's a ruined castle called Carreg Cennen, which overlooks a village called Trapp."

"So that explains the first sentence of the note."

"Partly. There's more. You see, the castle isn't actually a ruin. It only looks like that to Muggles."

"You mean like Hogwarts?"

"Yes, except there's no Muggle-repelling Charms on it. Muggles can visit it, but there are parts of the castle, which are accessible only to wizards. The official story is that the place was destroyed after the War of the Roses because the owners sided with the Lancastrians. But what really happened was it was given over to a very prominent wizarding family, and they've owned it ever since." She paused for breath.

"I suppose this wizarding family was on the winning side then," said Harry.

"No, actually. Don't you remember your history?"

Harry looked blank.

"The Lancastrians won the war, but they lost that particular castle. But a wizarding family must have been considered better custodians. It's a Slytherin family, you see."

Harry stared at Hermione. "Not the Malfoys!"

"Yes, the same."

"Are you saying this…" He couldn't remember the name she'd given the castle. Looking at the book, he decided it was unpronounceable. "…This ruin is Malfoy Manor?"

"Oh no, I'm not certain it actually belongs to Draco's father. It could be another branch of the family. Anyway, the point is, did you ever wonder what Malfoy meant?"

Harry looked at Ron, who was smirking. "Erm, no, I can't say that I have."

"It's Old French for bad faith."

"Yes, Harry, didn't you know that?" said Ron, a humorous glint coming into his eye. Harry wondered why he seemed so much calmer now.

Hermione sighed. "And the letter talked about little faith. It's very close. Do you see? It all fits."

"I don't suppose you've got a picture of this place in one of your books, do you?" asked Harry. If he saw a picture, he could compare it to what the spell had revealed, and then they could be sure they had the right place.

"I haven't come across one, no," said Hermione. "But we could look for one."

But Harry was eager to be off again, now that he had something more solid to go on. "I think I'll take your word for it. I don't want to lose valuable time."

He was already starting for the stairs to his dormitory to collect his broom when Ron said, "Next thing to work out is how we're going to get there."

Harry stopped short. "What do you mean, we?"

"You don't think we're going to let you go after her by yourself, do you?"

"The note said to come alone, Ron."

"And if they're using Ginny as bait to catch you, you'll be walking right into it, Harry."

"And what if they…" Harry couldn't bring himself to say what he was thinking. "What if they do something to her because I didn't follow directions?"

"What if they do something to her because we didn't get there fast enough?" Hermione broke in. "We're wasting time arguing."

"I can hop on my broom and be off in a minute," said Harry. "But how are we all going to go together? You haven't even got a broom, and we can't Apparate yet since we haven't learned…"

"Not to mention…" interrupted Hermione.

"You can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds," Ron and Harry finished for her.

Hermione smiled in spite of the gravity of the situation. "We might use a Port Key."

Harry raised his brows. His least favourite means of travel was by Port Key, but if it was the only way to get to Ginny quickly, he'd use one. "Do you know how to make one?"

"No, but we can look it up."

"I've wasted enough time on books," said Harry, but that wasn't strictly true. He'd thought of a book that just might help them out again and in the least amount of time.

He went up to his dormitory and thought about Port Keys. As before, when Harry had picked up the Dr Zog book and opened it, he found what he was looking for, a list of instructions for making several different types of Port Key. He'd never realised there were so many types. Some could be activated by a simple touch--he shuddered to think of the Tri-Wizard Cup--while others only worked at specific times. Some would even go to more than one location, depending on who touched it. Harry merely wanted something that would transport him to Carreg Cennen as soon as possible.

"What are you doing?" Hermione and Ron had followed him back up to his room.

"Finding instructions on how to make a Port Key."

"Let me see," said Hermione, and Harry handed her the book. "This is quite complicated," she said after a minute or two. "It says you ought to begin small, covering short distances first, and work your way up."

"We haven't got time to mess around with this," Harry protested.

"Come on, you can do it, Hermione," said Ron.

"All right. What are we going to use?" asked Hermione.

"We'll use this book," said Harry.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Why? Won't it change back into a book once we've used it?"

"I suppose so, but what if we have to consult it for something? We don't want to be transported in the middle of the consultation, do we?"

"Well, then set it to go off at a particular time!" Harry rarely let himself get irritated with either of his two best friends, but his level of frustration was reaching its limit. He was tired of all the waiting and planning; he wanted to be off. That was how he was used to dealing with danger: something happened, and he met it head on.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him slightly. "Right."

Harry and Ron watched as she muttered a series of spells over the book. Finally she tapped it with her wand. "There. All ready." Harry reached out a hand. "Not so fast. I've set it to go off in the morning."

Harry wanted to shout, but he forced himself to reply in a reasonable tone. "Why?"

"You haven't packed anything. We ought to divide up that sack of food, for one thing." She was ticking things off on her fingers, as if she had an itemised list in her head. "It's winter; we'll all need our cloaks and warm clothes. I think your invisibility cloak might come in handy, and I imagine you can think of a few other useful things to bring along. Not to mention we'd be arriving in the middle of the night, it'll likely be pitch black out, and we'll have no idea of the lie of the land." She paused for breath.

"All right, I get the idea," Harry said before she could continue.

"Besides," Hermione went on in spite of him, "we missed supper. The staff are going to think something's going on much sooner if we miss breakfast as well."

When Hermione had gone off to bed and the boys were in theirs, Harry turned to Ron. "Why does she always have to be right?"

Ron shrugged. "Think you'd be used to it by now."

"It's infuriating."

"Nah, it's endearing."

Harry threw his pillow at Ron, and then swore to himself for throwing it away. How could Ron be so calm about this now? Earlier he'd been as irritable as Harry. He thought back to when he'd re-entered the common room earlier to find his two best friends on the sofa rather than studying. They hadn't really been snogging, and he'd known it at the time. His own frustration had caused him to say what he had. He wondered now if Hermione hadn't used some charm or other to calm Ron down.

Harry lay for a long time while sleep eluded him, imagining all sorts of horrible things happening to Ginny. He didn't think Ron was sleeping either, from the sound of his breathing.

They both lay, pretending, until sometime near dawn, when Harry passed into a fitful dream. In it he saw Ginny pacing on the parapet of some old ruin, the wind whipping her hair into wild tangles about her head. She seemed to be waiting, waiting for him. He wanted to go to her, but unseen bonds were preventing him. He called to her, but the wind tore the words from his lips and sent them into the void where there was no one to hear. Then the scene changed, and he was in the common room with her late at night. He held her against him and kissed her with a fierce passion until she went limp and trembled in his embrace.

He woke up then, his heart pounding. There was a dull, watery light in the window, and Ron was stirring. Harry was very glad that Ron had no idea what images had just been passing through Harry's mind. He felt rather uncomfortable about them himself. Ginny was in danger, and all he could think about was what might have been last night if she'd been at Hogwarts with him.

When Ron had trudged off towards the shower, Harry got up and began looking through his trunk for anything that might be useful: his warmer clothes, winter cloak, invisibility cloak, the knife Sirius had given him in his fourth year… Something made him think of the box of joke items Fred and George had given him, and he took out the Lock-picker. Lastly, he thought of the necklace. He'd be leaving Hogwarts' protective wards, so he might need it. He took it out of the drawer of his night table and put it on.

When the three of them went down to breakfast, Harry was relieved to see that Dumbledore was not present. Professor McGonagall, however, came over to the Gryffindor table almost immediately. "Where have you been? Why weren't you at supper last night?" With most of the students gone for the holiday, it had been all too obvious that they'd missed the previous evening's meal. "And where is Miss Weasley?" Her mouth was pursed into its familiar line.

"She's indisposed," replied Hermione. "She wasn't feeling well last night, and we stayed with her."

"Perhaps she ought to see Madam Pomfrey in that case."

"She was actually a bit better this morning," said Ron. "We'll take something back for her."

"See that you do, Mr Weasley. And if she's not better at lunch, I'll have to insist she go to the hospital wing."

Harry, Ron and Hermione breathed a collective sigh of relief, as Professor McGonagall returned to her seat with the rest of the staff. Not many had stayed on for the holiday. They finished their meal quickly, and Hermione tucked several slices of toast into a napkin, in case Professor McGonagall was keeping an eye on them. When they'd climbed back up to Gryffindor Tower and collected the things they were bringing--Harry had transfigured his school bag into a rucksack. It was almost time for the Portkey to activate.

Harry hoisted his rucksack over his shoulder, and the three of them stood in a circle, their arms outstretched to touch the book at the centre. It wasn't long before Harry felt the familiar jerk behind his navel, and the three were hurtling through space. The journey seemed rougher than it should have been, and they landed suddenly and heavily. Harry heard Hermione let out a surprised squawk and saw Ron go sprawling before he himself landed on his backside.

"Hermione, what did you do to that thing?" Harry asked as he got to his feet.

Hermione merely shrugged and looked around. "Harry, didn't you say something about a castle on a hill?"

Harry looked about. There was nothing familiar about this place. He saw green hills and a town not far away, but there was no castle. The day was cold and grey with a harsh wind that bit through Harry's winter cloak and made him shiver. "Where are we? Hermione, what did you do?"

"I merely followed the directions in that book. It did say to start small, didn't it?"

Harry repeated some rather choice words he'd heard Ron use under his breath, but it didn't make him feel any better.

"Look," said Ron, pointing, "there's a town over there. We could at least find out where we are."

Before they set off, they transfigured their cloaks into something less conspicuous. They were already wearing Muggle-style clothes since it was the Christmas holiday. When they'd walked a ways and reached the town, they could tell from the signs they were at least in Wales. That was something.

"Pontardawe," Hermione muttered.

"What?" said Ron.

"We're in Pontardawe," she replied more distinctly.

"And where is that in relation to where we want to go?" asked Harry.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted.

"Wonderful! That's just great!" Harry shouted. "Merlin only knows what's happening to Ginny, and we're lost!"

"Keep your voice down!" Hermione hissed. "We're just going to have to ask directions."

"Won't that seem odd, going and asking the Muggles the way to Malfoy's castle?" asked Ron.

"Not if we say Carreg Cennen. Muggles can visit it. I told you that."

Ron muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "mental" to Harry. "Where are we going to find a place to ask directions?" Harry wondered. "It's early on Sunday."

Hermione bit her lip for a moment. "I'm sure we'll find something open."

They walked a good bit of the way through town until they'd come to the outskirts on the opposite side before they finally found a petrol station. Hermione went in and bought a map with some Muggle money she'd had the foresight to bring along. When she came out again she looked rather grim.

"How far is it?" Harry asked, knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Ten miles."

"TEN MILES? We're off by ten bloody MILES?"

"Harry, keep your voice down. I'm sorry. I did the best I could."

Harry knew Hermione was right; she had done her best.

"Look." Hermione was showing them the map. All we have to do is follow the A474 most of the way, and when we get to this village…" She pointed to Gwaun-Cae-Gurwen, and Harry couldn't blame her for not trying to pronounce the name. "…We take the local road to Trapp."

"Let's go," Harry said, and he started walking.

A/N: Thanks to Monique, Amy and Ami for their beta comments. If you're interested, Carreg Cennen really exists and I thought it looked like a cool place to visit. Someday I will visit the UK. Thanks for all the reviews. I appreciate them.