HP Fic: "Heal The Pain" - Chapter 19 - 'Things Fall Apart' (Part 1)

[aibhinn_fics]

Title: Heal The Pain
Chapter 19 - 'Things Fall Apart' (Part 1)
Rating: Teens
Words: 12,093 (Both Parts)

The Monday after their wedding, Harry sat at breakfast with his wife in the kitchen of The Burrow.  Both of them had their wedding rings on chains tucked inside their shirts; both of them were spending a good deal of the time grinning at each other across the table.  Molly Weasley pretended to ignore them as she bustled around, cooking as though she still had seven children at home.

"Do you think we're making Mum ill yet?" Ginny asked quietly, with a twinkle in her eye as Harry took her hand and kissed it.

"Nah," Harry said, chuckling.  "I think she's rather amused by us, actually." 

Both he and Ginny had agreed before leaving the hotel the day before that neither of them would say the word married in the house, and had cautioned Ron and Hermione not to do so either.  They were still the only four people in the wizarding world who knew of the wedding, and would hopefully remain so.

Well, except for Major Miller.  Harry had sent an owl to the Major yesterday, as they'd left the hotel.  He'd been rather pleased with the way he'd worded it, overall:

Major Miller:

Please be advised that I have taken action to execute your advice to me regarding Miss Weasley's legal status.  She is now my wife.  We will be having a repeat of the ceremony at a later date, so we will take you up on your offer to play at the reception.

Capt. H.P.

This morning, when they'd awakened, an owl had been sitting on the tree outside the bedroom window, waiting patiently.  When Harry had opened the window, the owl had flown in, deposited its message, and immediately left again.

Captain:

Congratulations on your change of status.  We'll speak about it when next we meet.  Are you available tomorrow at one o'clock?

Steve Miller

"You're not eating," Mrs Weasley chided as she placed a plate of sausages on the table.  "You've two weeks to fawn all over each other; you can take the time to eat your breakfast now.  You can't live on love alone, you know, even if you are engaged.  Though Merlin knows I remember being there myself."  She smiled a bit mistily and walked back to the cooker.  Harry and Ginny tried to hold in their laughter.

The kitchen door opened and Remus came in, shutting it quickly against the cool wind that was blowing.  April it may have been, but the weather was still quite chilly.  "Whew!  Nice bracing walk to begin the day," he said, hanging up his cloak and sitting down beside Harry, pouring himself a cup of tea.  "Good morning, you two.  Do you have any plans for the day?"

"We were talking about going into Muggle London for a while," Ginny said, flashing a smile at Harry.  "There are a few places Harry says he'd like to show me, since we're more or less at leisure."

"Hm."  Remus picked up a piece of toast from the plate in the middle of the table and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully.  He glanced over to see that Mrs Weasley was busy, then asked in a low voice, "Isn't your trial next week, Harry?"

Harry nodded, feeling a flutter of butterflies in his stomach at the thought.  "Yeah.  Major Miller wrote this morning to set up an appointment for tomorrow, to get things organised and ready.  I replied to his note just before breakfast."

Ginny reached across the table and squeezed his hand, and he squeezed hers back, holding on tightly.  It gave him comfort, knowing that he wouldn't be alone through this, and that Ginny herself would not suffer as a result of his stupidity back in January.  Now that they were married, she could not be forced to testify against him, but could choose to say anything she wished at his trial--which meant, in essence, that she could get up and tell the absolute truth about the things they wanted the jury to know, while refusing to answer anything she didn't want to.  A win-win situation, as Major Miller had said.

But it also caused a bit of worry on Harry's part.  Did Ginny really believe he'd married her only to help his trial?

Of course not, he chided himself.  You proposed and she accepted before you ever cast the Unforgivable.  The only thing that has to do with the trial is the date of the wedding, not the fact of it.

But still.  But still.

"I was wondering," Remus said, still in the low tone of voice, "if you two would mind coming along to Headquarters for a bit tomorrow morning.  We're having a meeting, and I'd like you two to be there for it."

Harry blinked, frowning.  "Us?" he asked.  "Both of us?  Why?  Are Ron and Hermione coming as well?"

"Ron will be at work, and I believe Hermione's scheduled as well, but no, I wouldn't have asked them even if they'd been here.  It would have been an unconscionable pressure on them to break their oaths to the Ministry.  You, however, Harry, are not working at the Ministry at the moment--"

"I'm still employed by them, though," Harry warned.  "I still have all my security clearances, and I'm bound by all the same oaths."

"Yes, but you're not currently on-duty," Remus said.  "And that's all to the good.  Because what we want, Harry, is a way to get our information to them without their becoming suspicious of our existence... and we think perhaps you might have some ideas as to how we'd do that."

"What do you mean, get your information to them?" Ginny asked, knitting her eyebrows.

"Just that: we have people who can get information that the Ministry can't--who can infiltrate in ways the Department can't simply by virtue of actually belonging in whatever position they're in.  We can't provide the trained personnel to actually take care of things, nor the authority to do anything even if we did have the personnel--only the Ministry can provide that--but we can certainly provide the information to give the Intelligence department a boost."

Harry chewed on his lip, thinking.  Unquestionably, it sounded good.  "Why not Ron and Hermione, though?"

Remus grinned.  "More Hermione than Ron, really.  She might feel as though it were incumbent upon her to let her superiors know what was going on, and I don't want to force her into making the decision whether to betray her oaths at work or to betray her friends in the Order.  And somehow, given the way that Ron and Hermione interact, I don't think there's much that Ron knows that Hermione doesn't."

Well, that was certainly true.  "All right," Harry granted.  "But why Ginny?" 

Ginny shot him a sharp look, but he ignored it.  He was as concerned over her safety as he'd ever been--perhaps more so, especially if anyone found out they'd married secretly--and was determined that she should be kept as safe as possible for as long as possible.

"Ginny," Remus said, "is the only person I currently know who's an Animagus, besides Minerva McGonagall.  Minerva's told me your Animagus form, Ginny, and I think it would serve us well for you to assume your form to do a bit of work for us, once you've finished your N.E.W.T.s.  If you choose to, of course; it's entirely up to you."

"Of course I will, Remus," she said earnestly, as Harry felt an uncomfortable jolt of fear in his middle.  "Anything I can do to help."

It took every bit of strength Harry possessed not to snap, "You most certainly will not!"  Ginny is a polished, accomplished, intelligent, and very powerful witch who can handle anything that's thrown at her, he reminded himself fiercely.  She won't thank you for trying to wrap her in cotton wool.  She's the one who defeated Voldemort when you couldn't, for heaven's sake, and saved your sorry arse in the process.

All of that was true... and none of it helped.  He wanted her safe, damn it.

"Very well."  Remus finished his tea and took another piece of toast from the plate.  "I'd best get going.  Can you be at Headquarters at ten tomorrow morning, both of you?"  They nodded, and he smiled, rising and pushing in his chair.  "Excellent.  I'll see you later, then."

He started out toward the lounge, causing Mrs Weasley to call out, "Remus, aren't you going to have any breakfast?"

"I've had tea and toast, Molly, thank you.  I've some things to do today."  He winked at Ginny and Harry, and left.

Mrs Weasley sighed and turned to watch him go, one hand on her hip.  "That man will never recover if he never eats," she said sadly.

"Don't fret, Mum," Ginny said, rising and pushing in her chair, even as Harry did.  "Remus is a big boy; I don't doubt he can take care of himself."  She kissed her mother on the cheek on her way to the cloak rack.

"Hm. Perhaps."  Mrs Weasley frowned at them.  "Where are you two going?"

"Harry's taking me on a walking tour of Muggle London."  She grinned at Harry, and he felt his heart flip-flop.  He still wasn't used to the way her smile could make him feel.

I imagine I'll get used to it eventually.  In, say, seventy or eighty years.

"A walking-and-Muggle-transport tour," he corrected, holding Ginny's coat while she slipped her hands into the sleeves, and then taking his own.  He'd Transfigured a too-small cloak into a Muggle coat for her just before she'd gone back to Hogwarts last September, and was grateful he'd done so; they'd certainly taken enough trips into the Muggle world in the past few weeks!

Not that she wore it last Saturday....

"We'll likely eat dinner out as well," he continued, "so don't wait for us.  We'll be home by nine, though, I promise."

Mrs Weasley's eyebrows shot up.  "Harry, dear, I appreciate the thought, but you're both of age; I don't propose to hold the two of you to the same curfew I would if you were thirteen.  So long as I know where you are and when to expect you home, stay as long as you need; just slip off and send a message if you choose to stay later.  All right?"

Ginny looked completely floored at that offer.  Harry rather felt the same way.  "Erm... all right," he managed to get out at last.  "Thank you."

She smiled, walking over to them and cupping his cheek as he'd seen her do with her own children.  "Harry, I trust you.  I don't want you to think I don't.  As long as I know what's going on, I won't worry." 

She returned to the cooker, leaving Harry and Ginny to look helplessly at each other.  After a moment, Ginny shrugged.  "Meet you there," she said, and tossed a handful of Floo powder into the fire.  Harry Disapparated.

When she emerged from the fire in The Leaky Cauldron, covered in soot, Harry was waiting and ready with a Cleaning charm.  "You've got to get your Apparition license, woman," he teased, kissing her once she was clean.

"I've been a bit busy," she teased right back.  "All right, Mr Potter: where are you taking me first?"

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Someplace Muggle, so that I can call you by your proper name, Mrs Potter."  He straightened and crooked his arm, inviting her to take it.  She laughed and accepted, and they sauntered out into Muggle London for a day to themselves.

----------------------

Promptly at ten o'clock the next morning, Ginny tumbled out of the fireplace in the drawing room of the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.  Number 12 Grimmauld Place wasn't as dank, musty, and depressing as it had been when Ginny had first seen it, the summer before her fourth year.  It was, however, somewhat sad for Ginny, seeing it again; Sirius had been dead just over a year, since the Last Battle the previous March.  Harry was there waiting for her, having Apparated in, and she noticed a slight air of melancholia about him, a slight tension in his shoulders.

Poor Harry.  You can't get away from the reminders of death, can you?

The door to the drawing room was opened with a squeal of excitement before they reached it.  Tonks came in to meet them, her bright-blue hair glowing in the sunlight that streamed through the now-clean windows.  "Wotcher, Harry!" she exclaimed.  "And Ginny!  I haven't seen you in an age!  Come in, come in; Remus told us you'd be here."

Ginny hugged her friend closely.  "It's good to see you as well, Tonks," she said warmly.  "Where is everyone?  In the kitchen?"

"In the library.  It's a bit more comfortable there."  Tonks hugged Harry as well, then pulled away.  "Come on, we're all here already.  We were just waiting for you to arrive--and here you are, right on time."

The portrait of Sirius' mother had (thankfully) been removed some years before, so there was no need to keep silent as they walked through the hall.  Tonks led them toward the library, chattering the whole way, then flung the door open with a flourish.  "Here they are!" she announced to the room at large, and ushered the two of them in.  Ginny blinked, a bit surprised to see so many familiar faces, all seated in a circle round the room.  There was Tonks, of course, and Remus, who had both taken seats near the fireplace.  To Remus' left was Arabella Figg, who had watched over Harry as he grew up; Mundungus Fletcher, who had earned Molly Weasley's eternal gratitude during the War by dragging an unconscious Bill out of the line of fire and standing guard over him until reinforcements could come in and take him to hospital; Susan Bones, a former schoolmate of hers and Harry's; Elphias Doge; Dedalus Diggle; Hestia Jones; Dean Thomas, another former schoolmate and one of the new recruits whom Harry had been training; and Alastor Moody. 

Two empty chairs waited between Tonks and Moody; Harry tugged her gently toward them and seated her next to Tonks while he took the other.  Despite the fact that she'd known these people for years, and some of them nearly as long as she'd known Harry, she felt more than a little uncomfortable. 

All of these people think Harry is the one who killed Voldemort.  All except Lupin, at least.  What would they think of me if they knew the truth--the whole truth?

Moody cleared his throat.  "I see you've taken to travelling without a wand," he growled.

Ginny tensed; apparently Remus hadn't told anyone what had happened to Harry.  Harry paused briefly, then said, "My trial's on Monday, Alastor.  If all goes well, I'll have it back after."

"And all will go well," Ginny interjected, forcing a smile while a low mutter went round the circle.  She felt her heart clench at the expressions on a couple of faces.  Harry's been through more than enough as a result of that damned curse, she thought rebelliously.  Can't they just leave it be?

Moody eyed Harry for a long moment, then suddenly leapt to his feet, reaching beneath his cloak.  Harry was immediately on his feet as well, standing between Ginny and Moody.  "Protego!" he cried, holding out his hand, palm-outward, toward Moody.  A shimmering shield appeared between them. 

Ginny realised she'd moved without conscious thought; she'd shoved her chair out of the way and moved directly behind Harry, almost but not quite touching him.  Her wand was out, and she was covering the rest of the room that Harry couldn't because his focus was on Moody.  The whole process had taken only a second or two.  She hadn't had time to think, only to react.

There was silence for a long moment.  Finally, Moody gave a snort of laughter, and very slowly withdrew his hand from his cloak, holding it open to show it was empty.  Harry relaxed and dismissed the shield, and Ginny lowered her wand.  "Good!" Moody said as Harry took his seat again, and Ginny picked up the chair she'd kicked into the corner behind her.  "Very good!  An impressive display of constant vigilance by both of you.  Potter, I'm impressed that you didn't simply assume I was who I said I was, nor that I meant you no harm.  Weasley, your instincts were spot-on: get out of his way and behind his shield while you covered the rest of the room, who themselves may or may not have been friendly.  And you kept the fireplace next to you under guard as well, so that you had an escape route.  Potter, of course, could have Disapparated, but he wouldn't have until you were gone."  There was a slight pause, then Moody delivered the highest accolade she'd ever heard from his mouth: "I couldn't have done better myself."

There was a general sigh of relief from the group.  Ginny noticed that Tonks had apparently started to move forward at some point during the proceedings, as if preparing to interfere, but Remus had grabbed her arm and prevented her, which was just as well.  As high-pitched as Ginny's nerves were, any movement might have flung her back to the battle reflexes she'd developed during the war: hex first and ask questions later.

And I'd have hated to have hexed Tonks into next week.

"Now that you lot have scared a decade off all our lives," Arabella Figg said tartly, "might we get on with the meeting?"

"Yes," Remus said firmly, raising an eyebrow at Moody, who shrugged and leaned back in his chair.  "We're here for two purposes this morning," Remus continued.  "First, to discuss with Harry the possibility of having, or forming, a regular communication with the Department of Mysteries--a liaison, as it were.  Tonks is our connection to the Aurors, of course, but the Corps of Unspeakables is far more involved in the intelligence game than the MLES.  We think--that is, Moody, Tonks, and I think--that the Department of Mysteries could benefit as much, or more, from our information as the MLES can."

All eyes turned to Harry.  Ginny could see the uncertainty in his face.  "If you're asking me to be the liaison--" he began awkwardly.

"No, no," Remus interjected.  "No, Harry.  We're asking you whether you think it's a good idea at all, to begin with; whether you think your superiors would accept it; and if so, whether you might be willing to carry our request to your superiors."

Ah--now that makes sense, Ginny thought.  Apparently Harry concurred, as he relaxed a bit.  "I see," he said, leaning back and propping an ankle on the opposite knee.  His right hand reached for Ginny's left and clasped it as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world, causing a rather silly smile to spread across her face.  "Well, to answer your first question--yes, I think it's an excellent idea.  Merlin knows we need good intelligence from reliable sources--we've recently had a very firm object lesson in how fallible our own sources can be."

His tone was grim, and Lupin's face was as well.  The memory of Hermione and Ron in hospital made Ginny's own heart freeze in remembered terror.  What if it happened again--but someone she loved was counted among the dead this time, as had so nearly happened last time?

"As for your second question," Harry continued, "I'm certain my immediate superior would take the idea under advisement and do his best to come up with a way to implement it.  Nobody is more interested in preventing further casualties than he is."

"Good," Elphias Doge put in creakily.  "If we must send our youngsters out to fight for us, we owe them our best efforts on their behalf, as well as superiors who do not uselessly spend their lives."

There was a general murmur of agreement round the circle, and Ginny squeezed Harry's hand lightly.

"So, I suppose that leaves me with the question, will I bring the suggestion to him," Harry observed.  He released her hand and leaned forward, looking around the circle at each face.  "My friends, in the less than six months since I joined the Corps as a fully-commissioned officer, I have already lost men and women I knew, and seen others wounded, sometimes severely.  We may not have a Dark Lord any longer, but that does not mean those who served him have given up the fight.  And I will do everything in my power to ensure that no officer will ever have to report to the scene of a murdered mother or father, husband or wife.  I will not have to attempt to comfort a mother who's being forced to bury her son or daughter.  I will not have to watch friends murdered in front of me, while I can't help them.  Never, ever, ever again!"

His tone was fierce, his eyes haunted, and she could see in them the reflection of the horror and fear he'd been through since joining the Corps.  Some of it he'd told her; some of it he hadn't, or couldn't; but it was all there in his eyes. 

There was a profound silence in the room as nearly everyone stared at him, mesmerised.  This is why we won, Ginny thought. This is why we fought to the death.  Individuals don't fight for causes so much as they fight for people--and our forces fought for Harry.

The silence stretched out for a long moment.  At last Moody cleared his throat again, making everyone jump and look at him instead.  "So," he inquired in a tone of polite interest, "you'll do it, then, Potter?"

It broke the tension.  Everyone laughed, including Harry.  "Yes, Alastor," he said, chuckling, "I will.  I'll owl him tonight, see if we can arrange a meeting."

Ginny opened her mouth to comment, but she felt her body seize up before she could speak, muscles locking as her mind's eye filled with images only she could see.

Streaks of curses flying past--fear and anger in her heart--fierce pleasure as one of her own hexes met its mark--the sound of movement behind her--a muttered curse--pain suffusing her body, pain, agony.

The pain disappears, leaving her panting and lying on her back on the ground, but now there are faces about her, faces in hoods, and their hands are reaching for her, touching her, holding her.  She fights, feels restraints put on her--fights the restraints, and feels a blaze of white-hot agony as someone's foot kicks out and lands in the middle of her calf.  She both hears and feels the snap of the bone--she screams in mingled pain and fury--

Blackness.

"Ginny!  Ginny, can you hear me?  Ginny!"

She opened her eyes to find herself lying on the floor of the library.  Harry knelt over her with terror in his eyes, and the others clustered round them both.

The horror of her Vision came rushing back, and she grabbed Harry's hands, sitting up.  "Ron!" she said, her heart in her throat.  "Ron's been kidnapped by Death Eaters.  He was ambushed and outnumbered.  His leg's broken and--and--oh, Merlin, Harry, they used Cruciatus--"

Harry paled as a babble of voices broke out, demanding explanations.  "Quiet!" he demanded, and for a wonder, he got it.  "Where?" he asked tightly.  "Where was he when he was attacked?"

"Hogsmeade," she said, not knowing how she knew, but knowing it was true all the same.  "He was--I think he was on assignment--they Stunned him at the end, Harry, they took him alive--"

"Are you sure?" he demanded, and she saw the stark fury and fear in his eyes.  "Are you sure he's alive?"

"He--they didn't kill him in the Vision, Harry, that's all I know," she said helplessly.

"That's good enough."  Harry looked up at Remus and Moody.  "I need the best operatives you can find, NOW.  Get them here."  They nodded and left with Tonks, Dean, and Mundungus.  He turned to Doge.  "Elphias, I need you to go to Hogwarts.  Inform Professor McGonagall--we'll need the staff to help us in this.  Have them hold themselves ready until I send word." 

Elphias Disapparated as he turned to Susan.  "Susan, Minister Bones needs to know about this.  I assume, as you're her niece, you have access to her office without going through layers of staff?"  She nodded.  "Tell her what's happened and see if you can get her to call up the MLES and send them to Hogsmeade as well--and then have her tell Mr Weasley; he needs to know."

"Where should the MLES meet you, Harry?" she asked.

"Outside The Three Broomsticks--that's an easy rendezvous point."

She nodded and also disappeared with a pop.  Harry turned to Dedalus Diggle, Hestia Jones, and Mrs. Figg.  "Dedalus, go to the twins' shop and let them know what's happened and where to meet us.  Hestia, you find Percy--he'll likely be in his office in the Ministry.  And Arabella--you can use the Floo, right?"

"Yes," she said decisively as the others popped out of sight.  "I'm magical enough for that."

"Right.  Then I need you to go to the Burrow and tell Ron's mum what's happened.  But whatever you do, don't let her go to Hogsmeade.  It's going to be a battleground very, very shortly, and she's not trained."

"It'll be a battleground if they're still there," Ginny said, feeling ill.  She had no trouble, having experienced what Ron had experienced, picturing the corpses she'd seen at the Battle, but with her brother's face.

"Then we'll do the best we can," Harry said tightly, and she knew he was picturing the same thing.  "Go, Arabella."

Without another word, Mrs Figg took a handful of Floo powder and tossed it on the fire.  "The Burrow!" she said in a ringing voice, stepped into the fire, and disappeared in a whirl of green.

They were alone in the room.  Harry turned to Ginny.  "Get out of view of the fireplace.  I'm only supposed to do this in case of extreme emergency--which this is--and only where I can't be overheard.  You can stay, but anything you hear, forget immediately.  Understand?"

If they hadn't been through the War together, she'd have been tempted to resent his cold tone, but she recognised it: it was his command voice, the one he'd used in the War when he hadn't had the luxury of being Just Harry; he'd been Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and the subject of the Prophecy.  Right now, he didn't have the luxury of being her husband; he was Captain Onyx of the Unspeakable Corps, an officer who was in command of the current operation.  She nodded and slipped into the niche next to the brick fireplace, pressing herself against the wall.

Harry knelt in front of the fireplace and threw on a fistful of Floo Powder.  "Department of Mysteries," he said.

She couldn't see who appeared in the fire, but the voice that boomed out was deep and rough and intimidating.  "Name?" it growled.

"Captain Onyx, Unspeakable Corps," Harry answered.  "Serial number, H566P02.  Level: Blue.  Commanding officer: Major-General Twilight."

"Confirming."  There was a pause.  Ginny could hear her heartbeat throbbing in her ears as she waited.  "Identity confirmed," the voice said at last.  "Target?"

"Major-General Twilight.  Code: Red."

There was a pause, and then a hearty voice, quite unlike the previous one, said, "Onyx?  Merlin, boy, what's going on?  Code Red?"

"Sir," Harry said curtly, "I've received incontrovertible information that Red Knight, and perhaps his current partner, have been attacked in Hogsmeade."

"Attacked?" Twilight said in a startled tone.  "When?  Where?  By whom?"

Harry glanced at Ginny out of the corner of his eye.  She shook her head, unable to give any more details than she already had.  "That's all I know, sir.  The Minister is being informed as we speak, and the Order of the Phoenix, a secret order founded by Albus Dumbledore during the first war, which worked toward the destruction of Voldemort, is assembling.  With luck, the Minister is also calling up the MLES.  Sir, please, order the Corps to Hogsmeade!  Or get Nacht to do it, if it's beyond your power."

"How do you know?" Twilight demanded, ignoring Harry's plea.  "What's your source?  How do you know this has happened?"

Harry hesitated for the briefest of moments.  "Classified Umbra, sir," he said.

"You're not cleared for Umbra-level security."

"I am for this.  Please, sir, time is wasting!"

There was a pause, then Twilight said, "All right.  I'll trust you on this, boy, because you've never given me reason not to, but you will by Merlin explain yourself when all is said and done!  Where are you having your people rendezvous?"

"The Three Broomsticks," Harry answered.  Ginny could see relief in his body language, subtle as it was.

"One hour," Twilight said flatly.  The fire flared, lighting Harry with its green light, then it faded into its normal size and colours again.  Harry sat back on his heels and took a deep breath.  "Come on out, Ginny.  It's safe now."

She stepped forward carefully as he rose to his feet.  "What did you do?"

He passed a hand over his face.  "Contacted my boss and convinced him to send the Corps in.  I don't know how I did it, frankly," he added ruefully.  "We've got almost nothing to go on--and he really shouldn't be trusting me; I'm about to go on trial for casting an Unforgivable, for Merlin's sake."

"Yes, he should trust you!" Ginny said with determination.  "He knows your record, Harry, as well as anyone does.  He knows that when you have information, you act on it--and you don't act without it.  He knows you wouldn't send people into danger for no reason."

"Yeah," Harry said, sounding unconvinced.  "I just wish he had--"