The battle was over, and Harry Potter knelt, shaking, in the room that had been the underground headquarters of Voldemort’s campaign.
Slowly, he lifted his head from where it had rested in his hands and surveyed the wreckage of the room. A dusty avalanche of broken cement lay smoking in the corner, and Harry knew that Voldemort’s broken body lay beneath it, covered by the wreckage of the room’s wall. Hermione stood next to it, her face white and her simple Muggle clothes bloodstained. At her feet lay the unconscious body of Ron, his red hair coated in the same slime that covered every inch of the floor and remaining walls. Behind him, though he could not see her, was Ginny, naked, and tied securely to a filthy canvas cot.
Hermione caught his eye as he stared into her corner of the room, and she gave a tiny whimper.
“Harry?”
Harry managed to give her a weak smile, feeling the dry blood his face crack. He pulled himself from the floor with effort; every bone in his body ached. He opened his mouth to speak, but his raw throat yielded nothing but a thin rasp. He swallowed hard and tried again.
“We need to get them out of here,” he said, gesturing to Ron and Ginny.
“Do you think you can Apparate?”
Hermione nodded. “I’ll take Ginny,” she said shakily. Harry shook his head.
“No. I’ll get her. She needs clothes, and my shirt will be big enough to cover her. I don’t know where the Death Eaters put her things. You take Ron.”
Hermione looked at him. She knew Harry better than to think he only wanted to see Ginny without clothes, but all the same, Harry had been dying to see her face ever since Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He didn’t have the advantage of having his girlfriend with him all the time the way Ron did. However, she could tell from his face that Ginny’s naked body was the last thing on his mind. She nodded and knelt down next to Ron.
He had been hit by the Cruciatus Curse a few times, and some other jinx Hermione knew nothing about had caused him to fall to the ground, completely unconscious. She couldn’t wake him. Gathering his arms in her hands, she prepared to Apparate. She looked over at Harry. He was removing his shirt, wincing as his sore muscles moved.
“Harry, I’m going,” she said. “See you at the Burrow.”
Harry looked at her and nodded. He didn’t need to warn her to be careful. She was so good at Apparition, he had no doubt that she and Ron would arrive safely at the Weasley’s house.
“See you,” he said quietly, and gave her a small smile. He wanted to congratulate her and celebrate what they had achieved, but he was too tired, and Ron and Ginny were close to death. There would be wonderful parties later, he was sure.
He turned back to Ginny, just as he heard the small pop that meant Hermione had left. He finished removing his shirt, and began to untie the ropes that bound Ginny to the soaked, dirty cot with raw, painful fingers.
Seeing her again had been a shock for him. About a week after the wedding, he had received news that she was missing, presumed dead. Harry, Ron and Hermione had halted their search for the Horcruxes and returned to the Burrow, where Mrs. Weasley, Fleur and Hermione had cried openly for three days, and all of the men in the house had wandered aimlessly around, trying hard to comfort the women without breaking down and crying themselves.
It was at this point that Harry had caught Ron and Hermione sharing a kiss. Ron and Hermione confessed that they had been together since the end of sixth year, but had put the relationship on hold to fight Voldemort.
Hermione had burst into tears again saying how horrible it was for her to be kissing Ron when everyone was so sad about Ginny, and how she hadn’t even meant to kiss Ron at all; it had just sort of happened while Ron was trying to make her feel better, and how she knew Harry had every right to be angry with his two friends for allowing anything to distract them from the fight against Voldemort.
On the contrary, Harry had not been angry at all. They left the Burrow the next morning, and plunged themselves back into the war, Ron and Hermione limiting their relationship to occasional kisses before bed, and Harry trying his best to ignore the tear in his heart where Ginny had been.
He had become numb to this continuing pain. Walking into the underground room and seeing her captive there had unnerved him so much, Voldemort had nearly gained the upper hand in their ensuing battle. If it hadn’t been for Ron and Hermione’s quick action, Harry would have died.
Finally he was finished untying Ginny’s bonds. He removed the filthy rag that was gagging Ginny’s mouth, and he was pleased to hear her take a big, gasping breath instead of the shallow breaths she had been taking through her nose.
She had bloody cuts and bruises all over her body, and her hair and face were wet. Harry assumed the Death Eaters had giver her water by soaking the gag that had been in her mouth. They obviously had fed her very little, because her stomach was small and her ribs could be seen clearly under her bruises.
He tapped her shoulder gently, but she did not wake up. Sighing, he pulled her limp body into a sitting position. She was surprisingly light. He managed to slip his dark green t-shirt over her head. The shirt was big on Harry, but it was so giant on Ginny, it came to the middle of her thighs, and the sleeves brushed her bony elbows.
He wrapped his arms around her thin shoulders, stood up and took a deep breath. Though he had practiced Apparition with other people along for the ride, he was so tired, it would be hard to concentrate. He hoped they would make it to the Burrow. He closed his eyes and turned slowly, forcing himself and Ginny into nothingness.
When he opened his eyes, he knew it was hopeless. He had no idea where they were. Feeling slightly dizzy, he tried to stay standing. He set Ginny on the ground. He swayed on the spot, and suddenly, the world went black.
What Are You Scared Of? by smiley10792
Chapter Notes: J.K. Rowling owns the characters- not me!
Hope you enjoy.
This ch. has been altered slightly in preparation for my next fic!