aibhinn_fics

Title: Heal The Pain
Chapter 19 - 'Things Fall Apart' (Part 2)
Rating: Teens
Words: 12,093 (Both Parts)

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

Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap! Tap!

They both swung round to look at the window, where the sound was coming from. A screech owl sat on the sill outside, a letter attached to its leg. Frowning, Harry walked toward the window, as if to open it.

"Careful, Harry," Ginny warned. "It might be a trap."

"Nobody could follow the owl anyway, Ginny," he said logically. "This house is protected by the Fidelius charm and is Unplottable. Unless Remus gave them the password, nobody could find it."

He had a point, but she drew her wand anyway and held it at the ready as he opened the window. The owl fluttered in and perched on the back of one of the chairs, gazing at Harry and hooting dolefully.

Harry untied the letter from the owl's leg and opened it. He stared at it for a moment or two, as if unable to believe what he was reading, then he swore loudly and roundly.

"What?" Ginny asked, feeling fear pooling in her belly again.

Harry handed her the note. She read.

Potter:

Well, it seems we shall have our showdown after all, shan't we? I've managed to capture that great oaf of a 'best mate' of yours. Tsk, tsk--the Ministry is certainly falling down on the job as regards training its men, isn't it? It was hardly even a fight.

At any rate, I offer you a challenge. You and me: just the two of us. A duel, at a location to be chosen by me. Nobody else except our two seconds and the Weasel. He will be alive, no fear. If you defeat me, the Weasel goes free. If not--I have the privilege of watching my favourite fantasy come true, and finally killing both of you.

Respond by this owl, but don't take too long. If I get bored, perhaps I'll start amusing myself with your mate. There's a good deal I can do while still leaving him alive enough to suit the challenge.

Draco Malfoy

"That bastard," she breathed.

"Yes," he said tightly. "That's more or less what I was thinking."

He took the parchment from her and read it through again while she wrapped her arms round her middle, pressing them against her increasingly sick stomach. She wasn't certain whether she wished her Gift would manifest again so she'd know if her brother was dead, or whether she was grateful it hadn't, so she didn't have to know what they'd put him through.

"So either I meet him privately, and give him an open shot at me, which you know he'll take because he won't ever play by the rules," Harry gritted through his teeth, "or Ron dies. Because of me."

"Because of Malfoy!" Ginny snapped. "Don't you dare blame yourself for what that little bastard does."

"Who else is there to blame?" Harry snapped back, then sighed and rubbed his face again. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

The owl hooted again, as if to hurry them up. Harry dropped his hands and glared at it. "And we don't need your input on the subject," he growled at the bird.

But Ginny had furrowed her brow and was looking at the owl, thinking hard. Owls can go where even wizards can't... can pass through wards... can even go places that are Unplottable....

This owl's going straight for Malfoy....

Knows where he is....

"What is it?" Harry asked quietly.

She glanced at him, then at the owl. "Why don't we go see if we can find some parchment for you to write your note?" she said aloud, while looking significantly at Harry. She Summoned a bowl and a package of Owl Treats from the kitchen. They came zooming in and deposited themselves on the seat of the chair the owl was sitting on. Ginny walked over and touched the tip of her wand to the inside of the bowl. "Aqueus!" Water spurted out of her wandtip, filling the bowl full. When it had finished, Ginny fished several owl treats out of the package and set them next to the bowl. "Have some food and some water," she said to the owl, "while we figure out what to say. We won't be long."

The owl hissed in pleasure and hopped down, scooping up water as though it hadn't had a drink in days. Ginny quickly shut the window, grabbed Harry by the sleeve, and dragged him out of the room, closing the door behind them. She didn't speak until they were back in the drawing room where they'd come in.

Harry had allowed himself to be dragged, but once she stopped, he looked down at her with an expression of impatience. "Well?" he said.

She outlined her plan quickly to him. He stared at her, then shook his head. "No," he said flatly. "No way. It's too dangerous."

"It's not dangerous at all, Harry!" she protested. "Who's going to attack an owl? It's not like we usually use them for reconnaissance!"

"That's not the point, Ginny," he said sharply.

"No, you're right," she agreed, making him blink. "It's not. The point is that my brother's been kidnapped by Draco bloody Malfoy, who's already subjected him to Cruciatus and is planning to kill him, and you've organised half the wizarding world but you don't know where to go! Harry, I can find out! Not only can I find out, there's a better than even chance I can discover who all was involved, and can do enough reconnoitring to find out where their guards are--and maybe even some sort of back way in!"

"And what if you're caught?" Harry demanded, his voice breaking slightly. He swallowed and carried on in a more even tone of voice. "What if Malfoy or one of his goons sees you? If they even decide to singe a wing as a laugh, you'll be exposed!"

"So I'll stay in the trees. But they won't; Malfoy doesn't deign to have anything to do with owls unless he's sending one, and his goons won't interfere because they won't know whether I'm on a trip for him or not. Or his father, or one of his father's friends...."

"There's still no guarantee you'll be safe," Harry said stiffly.

"I know that, Harry!" she shouted, out of patience. "I know what's at stake! But can you think of any other way, any other way at all, that has even a fifty percent chance of getting us to Ron before they meet you for that farce of a duel?"

Silence reigned for a long, long moment while they stared each other in the eyes. Harry looked away first, turning his head to the side and sighing, hands on hips. "No," he said. "No, I can't. But, damn it, I don't like it." He met her eyes again. The defensiveness and resolve was gone, replaced by worry and love. "I don't like putting you in that kind of danger."

Ginny stepped forward and slid her arms round him, resting her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his around her as well, holding her tightly but not crushing her. "I know you don't, love," she whispered. "I don't like it myself. But I won't sit back and do nothing while Ron's a captive. I won't. I can't."

"I know, sweetheart. I know." He kissed her forehead, then her lips, and brought his hands up to cup her face. "I can't ask you to. But just... please... take what care you can."

"I promise." She kissed him again, long and lingeringly. He did crush her to him this time, as though the tighter he held her now, the safer she'd be. She could almost believe it was true; she never felt safer than when she was in his arms.

Finally, though, she pulled away reluctantly. "You'd best write that note back to Draco," she said softly. "Before he gets impatient."

"Yeah," he said just as softly. He kissed her once more, then turned to the secretary desk that stood against a wall. He opened it and pulled out a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill. Dipping the quill into the ink, he scrawled out:

Ferret:

I'm willing to meet with you any time and any place that you have the guts to arrange. And if you think it's the good little Gryffindor boy who'll be showing up, I suggest you start running now. You might make it far enough.

Oh, one more thing: if I find out that Ron has any injuries other than the broken leg you've already given him, I will make it my life's work to ensure that each and every wound is taken out of your own skinny little arse.

Love and kisses,

Harry Potter

"There," he said in a satisfied tone of voice. "How's that?"

Ginny burst out laughing. "'Love and kisses'?" she repeated.

"Well, I have to have something in there that's friendly," he said innocently.

She shook her head, still chuckling. "All right," she said. "All right. But do you think it's really a good idea to let him know we have some sort of intelligence about what's happened to Ron?"

He nodded soberly. "It's likely to keep him from doing anything more to him," he said. "If he doesn't know what we know or how we know it, it'll throw him."

"But what if he decides to move Ron after I go back to find you lot, because you've scared him off?"

He shook his head. "Trust me, love, I've had years of dealing with Draco Malfoy. He'll stay in the same place because he'll be convinced he's far too intelligent to be tracked--but if he knows that we know anything, anything at all, it might make him question what he does to Ron. Besides, moving Ron will injure him more, and if Malfoy's that scared of me, he won't risk it."

Ginny still wasn't certain, but time was passing too quickly to argue any longer. Harry folded the parchment and sealed it, then kissed her again. "Go on out," he said. "I'll give this to the owl and then you can take over from there. But for Merlin's sake, Ginny--"

"I promise I'll be careful," she whispered, looking into his eyes.

Harry hesitated, then turned away and picked up the quill. "I shouldn't do this," he said, "but in the circumstances--" He held the quill in both hands and murmured, "Portus." It glowed briefly, then faded so that it looked like a normal quill again. He handed it to her. "Here. If you put it in your pocket, when you reassume your normal shape, it'll still be there. It's a Portkey to Hogsmeade. Once you've got the information you need, fly away to a safe location nearby and use it. It'll save your strength."

She nodded, slipping it into the pocket of her robes. Three days married, and it could end today. Pushing the thought away, she kissed him one more time, as thoroughly as she could.

When they parted, they were both bright-eyed. "I love you," Harry said.

"And I love you." She swallowed, but knew if she didn't go right now, she'd never do it. Gathering her courage, she turned and walked out the door into the hallway. Without looking back, she headed for the front door, pulled it open, and stepped out into the bright sunshine.

Right... this close to the house, I'm still within the wards; nobody can see me. This is as safe as it's going to get.

She closed her eyes and focused her attention inward, toward her centre. Within her there was a spot that she reached for; it was the place where her true self, the real Ginevra Potter, resided. McGonagall had called it the 'seat of the soul.' She fastened her consciousness in that spot, held to it like a rock climber to a handhold, and pulled.

Her flesh melted, moulded, shrank; feathers sprouted; bones re-formed; her mouth hardened and extended into a beak. It was both pain and pleasure, horror and joy; it was a coming apart and a putting back together, all at the same time.

When she opened her eyes, her vision was strangely altered. It was highly focused and much sharper than usual. She squinted in light that was suddenly painfully bright, until her eyes adjusted. She clacked her beak and spread her wings, fluttering up to the branch of a tree that overlooked the library window, and waited for the screech owl to come out.

I'm bigger than he is, I think, she thought. I should be able to keep up with him easily.

She eyed her reflection in a nearby window. She had the heart-shaped, pale face of any barn owl, and her feathers had taken on a mottled rusty hue. She looked very like any of the thousands of other barn owls in Britain; they were the most common owls in the country.

Which means that Malfoy and his cronies hopefully won't think twice about seeing me.

The window opened and Harry's head emerged. He looked straight at her, and she spread her wings in preparation for flight. Harry bit his lip, then pulled his head in and stepped out of the way. A moment later the screech owl streaked out of the window, flying to the north. Ginny pushed off the branch with her powerful claws and beat her wings strongly, following him and blessing the eyesight that allowed her to stay quite a long ways behind but never lose sight of him.

Now just pray that, wherever he's going, I have the stamina to get me there without collapsing in an exhausted heap!

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

Harry cast the glamour over his scar and Apparated to Hogsmeade as soon as the russet-feathered barn owl that was his wife had faded into the distance. There he found dozens of people milling around, some in the uniform of the MLES, some dressed as average people. All eyes turned to him as he appeared, and there was a surge of movement toward him as well as a babble of voices, all asking for information at the same time.

Three people pushed their way through the crowd: Minister for Magic Amelia Bones, her niece Susan, and Tonks. "Mr Potter," the Minister began in stiff tones.

"Captain Potter," he corrected her.

She blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Captain Potter. Or, more accurately, Captain Onyx of the Unspeakable Corps." He forced a smile. "Minister, I know you have questions, but please, can you hold them until Umbra Nacht and Major-General Twilight arrive?"

"We're here, Onyx," Twilight's voice came. Harry swivelled to see the two of them striding toward him. "Now, what's going on here?"

Harry glanced around and found Madam Rosmerta amongst the crowd. "Rosmerta," he said, "could we use a room for a confidential meeting? I've got to give some information, and quickly."

"Yes, you do, Captain," a gravelly voice said from behind him. He turned again and felt his jaw drop. Major Steve Miller was stalking toward him, wearing his usual business clothes and carrying on a strap over his shoulder a--

No, it can't be.

A Muggle weapon. Specifically, if Harry's memory of his classes in Muggle weaponry from training camp, an M-14 carbine. It was in a soft case, but its distinctive outline was easy enough for Harry to recognise.

"You didn't show up for our meeting at one o'clock," Miller said, "and so I called in a few favours to find out what had happened. This is where they sent me." He nodded at the other three. "Minister. Ms. Nacht. Major-General."

"Major," Twilight acknowledged. "Joining the party, are you?"

"I'm afraid I must insist, Major-General Twilight," Miller said in a tone that might have been apologetic if his face hadn't been so grim. "My client has been suspended from the Corps and is being put on trial by the Ministry next Monday. Any discussions he has with any of the three of you, I am entitled to attend."

The three looked at each other, and finally the Minister shrugged. "All right, Major, I'm not going to quibble. I want to know what has happened to--"

Harry held up a hand. "Please, Minister, don't say anything until I've spoken with you. I know nearly everyone probably knows the basics, but I know considerably more than that; and it's time you were told."

Rosmerta escorted them through the taproom and into a smallish room at the back of the pub, its floor space nearly completely taken up by the table and chairs that were its only furniture. Tonks and another Auror took up guard positions just outside. Harry waited for the others to go in first, then entered behind them and closed the door, then joined them at the table. Briefly and in short sentences, he told the story of what had happened that day. He told them about the Order of the Phoenix and that he'd been a member since he turned seventeen, though not what the purpose of today's meeting had been. He told them that Ginny was a Seer, and that every one of her Visions had proven true since he'd known her. He told them precisely what she had Seen, in as close to the words she'd used as he could recall. He told them about the letter from Draco and the duel he'd proposed, and showed the note itself to them. He told them about Ginny's Animagus form, her idea for discovering where Malfoy was hiding, and where she was now.

"This is the Umbra matter you meant?" Twilight growled when he had finished. "Your girlfriend's Vision?"

"He was quite right," Minister Bones said sharply. "Seers are indeed an Umbra matter, and if Miss Weasley is a Seer, we should take pains to make certain she is protected."

Harry debated telling them that he and Ginny had married, but in the end, decided not to. Miller had wanted to hold the fact of their marriage back until it was necessary, and Harry did not wish to second-guess his barrister when it came to his trial.

If I make it through today, that is.

"So what do you propose as your plan of attack, Onyx?" Nacht asked quietly.

"We can't really plan much of one until Ginny gets back with more information on where they are and what the terrain's like," Harry said, "but I can tell you this much: We'll need a broom for every person going with us."

"A broom?" Nacht and Minister Bones chorused. Miller sat back and grinned, his elbows on the arms of the chair and his fingers tented in front of his face. His carbine lay on the table before him. Twilight, too, looked both amused and impressed, as though he knew what Harry was thinking.

"Ginny's on her way there as an owl," Harry explained, "so she's going to have to lead us there as an owl. She'll be relying on her owl senses, not on her human senses; that means vision, air currents, and even the earth's magnetic fields. If she has to lead us there by air, we have to follow her by air. It's just that simple."

There was silence for a moment or two as this was processed, then the Minister looked at Nacht and Twilight. "Comments?"

"Onyx is right about the brooms," Twilight said. "If we make an announcement now that everyone who owns a broom needs to Apparate home and get it, most of them will be back by the time Miss Weasley returns. Those who don't have one of their own... perhaps we can borrow some of the brooms from Hogwarts."

"Minerva should be in this meeting," Twilight muttered. Harry agreed; he hadn't thought to send for her, though.

"We'll make certain she's informed as quickly as possible," Minister Bones said. "Now, is there anything else we need?"

"Members of the Order should be partnered with someone from the MLES or the Corps," Harry said. "They're good folks, and they're well-trained as far as civilians go, but that doesn't change the fact that they're still civilians. We need someone with training who can work with them."

"And we need to get some organisation out there," Twilight interjected. "Divide into squads, each with its own captain, whether they're a Captain by rank or not. If all we've got is chaos in our ranks, the Death Eaters will mop the floor with us."

The Minister waited to see if there was more advice, but the room was silent. "All right," she said. "Twilight, you will be in charge of organising our forces once they've returned with their brooms. Potter, you will go up to the castle and bring the staff down, preferably with all the brooms they can spare. Nacht, you and I will coordinate together along with Alastor Moody for the Aurors and--" she turned to Harry. "Who's in charge of this 'Order of the Phoenix'?"

"Remus Lupin."

"Right. With Alastor Moody and Remus Lupin. Each of you three knows your people better than anyone else."

"Have you an assignment for me, Madam Minister?" Miller asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

She turned to look severely at him. "Stay out of trouble, and make certain I don't get any calls from the Muggle Prime Minister about that thing," she said.

Miller pulled out his wand and tapped the rifle on the table in front of him. Runnels of invisibility flowed over it, as though he'd poured water atop the case, until it was completely hidden. "About what thing, Madam Minister?"

"Precisely." The Minister rose. "If there's nothing more, then let us go."

She opened the door and swept through it, the two Aurors following her. Harry made his way through the crowd, heading toward the castle. Once the crowd had thinned, he broke into a run. He had to force himself to think only of the task at hand, and not of Ginny, flying across the country to find Draco Malfoy.

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

Ginny's chest muscles burned with fatigue, but she pushed on, following the screech owl at a distance of about two hundred yards. She didn't know much about Muggle geography, but she knew they'd come quite a ways north. She hoped that Malfoy hadn't holed up somewhere in Scotland; she'd collapse before she was able to fly that far.

No, she corrected herself, I won't. I'll go as far as I have to go, and I'll do everything I have to do. Ron won't die because I was too weak to follow through.

Movement ahead caught her eye, and she realised the screech owl was starting to descend. Her heart lifted, and she pumped her wings harder, trying to get closer before she lost him in the trees.

But she needn't have bothered; the trees below thinned out into a vast open space, and within it was a small cabin of the kind that Ginny would never have associated with Malfoy at any other time. But that was certainly the bird's destination; and as she approached, she could see a familiar blond man come out of the building and speak to someone else standing there. Blood pounding in her ears, she swooped down and came to a landing in a tree near the cabin, trying to make herself as hard to see within its branches as she could. The guards standing below her looked up and shifted away slightly, as if unwilling to stand directly below a bird. She grinned internally before turning her mind to business.

How many Death Eaters can I see? Hm... five, six, seven... eight, nine... ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen... Great Merlin, I can see twenty already--and that's outside the cabin! How many are inside? Or on missions? Or in their own houses, pretending to be ordinary people? How many are going to be here when the others get here? How many can he call at a moment's notice?

The screech owl had landed on a stump next to the building. Malfoy untied the note from its leg, and once he had the parchment in hand, the owl hooted and took off again. Clever bird, Ginny thought. Once he sees the nasty note Harry wrote, Malfoy's likely to take out his anger on whatever's nearest.

Her prediction proved right; Malfoy turned bright red with fury and, when the man he'd spoken to asked what was wrong, Malfoy threw the Furnunculus curse at him. "Don't talk to me," he snarled, and stalked back inside.

Damn. Now I can't hear or see anything. Ginny craned her neck--an easy feat for an owl--and looked as far around the house as I could. I think I see a window over there. Maybe I can hear something if I go down that way.

Ignoring her aching flight muscles, she fluttered down into a tree nearer the window and peered in, hoping to catch a glimpse of Malfoy. What she saw, though, would have made her gasp aloud if she'd been in human form.

It was Ron.

He was unconscious on a narrow pallet in a tiny room that might have originally been a storage cupboard except for the window. His leg was clearly broken, and had not been splinted. The only indication that he was, in fact, unconscious and not dead was the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

Ginny had to fight not to hoot loudly, the only form of sobbing she could give voice to in her present form. Oh, Ron, she thought, we're coming, Ron, we're coming.

The door inside burst open, and Malfoy stalked in, followed by a pair of Death Eaters she didn't recognise. "I told you, my lord," one of the Death Eaters grovelled, "I told you there was nothing. He's still in here, and he's still Stunned, and he'll stay here until you take him wherever you're going to."

Malfoy turned and grabbed the man by a handful of his robes. The other backed away until the wall stopped him from going farther. "You'd best keep it this way," Malfoy hissed, "because if anything happens to Weasel here, I'll hold you personally responsible." He released the man with a small shove. "Understand?"

"Y-y-yes, my lord," the man gabbled. "Nothing will happen to him, you'll see, I promise--"

"Get out of my way," Malfoy growled, and pushed past the man, who was still gabbling reassurances.

That's it. He's staying here; he's keeping Ron here; and Harry's managed to unnerve him, just as he said he would. That's all the information I need, along with the head count.

Mindful of her promise to keep herself safe--and desperate to get help to her brother--Ginny carefully flew away a good mile before she landed in a deserted field and attempted to calm her mind. Focusing on her centre, the 'seat of the soul', she reached once again and felt the odd stretching-pulling-melting sensation of returning to her own form. It didn't hurt as much as changing to an owl did, though it wasn't completely painless; it felt almost like stretching after sitting in one position too long. No fear I'll want to stay in my Animagus form forever, she thought as she reassumed her own form, stretching for real. It's a little too cramped.

Pulling the now-crumpled quill from her pocket, she activated the Portkey and felt the familiar pull behind her navel, dragging her toward Hogsmeade.

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

When Harry returned from the castle with most of the staff and several dozen brooms, he saw that nobody had been idle; most of those assembled had their own brooms, and were organised into groups of ten. Hmm, Harry thought, squads of ten--hadn't seen that before. But, then, I've never seen so many people assembled for battle before. Mostly we just filtered in as we got the news; we didn't have many formally staged battles.

He counted at least seven groups--or squads, as he assumed them to be--each of them apparently in various stages of briefing. The twenty-five or so MLES officers stood stock-still at parade rest; the Unspeakables did as well, if they weren't the ones doing the briefing. It was the roughly two dozen civilians--members of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry surmised--who looked the most nervous.

Perhaps we should leave them out of this, Harry thought worriedly, though he kept his concern off his face. Merlin knows the MLES and Unspeakables should do just fine on their own, and if another civilian dies because I brought them here... I don't know if I could bear it.

A burly man in Auror's robes came pushing up to Harry belligerently. "'Ere," he said in a rough voice, "wot's with all this waitin' abaht? Wot're we 'ere for if not to go kick some Death Eater arse?"

"We are here," McGonagall said frostily, fixing the man with the beady eye that had probably terrified him in school as well, "Mr Gurney, to organise ourselves until we receive our report from the place where our target is being held. As soon as our informant returns, you'll have all the action you could desire."

"Assuming he isn't dead," Professor Flitwick said quietly. Harry had to swallow hard to get saliva past the lump in his throat.

"He?" Gurney spat, eyes wide. "HE? Are you tellin' me that we're waitin' on information to rescue one bloody man?"

Alastor Moody stepped past Harry, startling him--he hadn't known the one-eyed Auror was behind him. "Gurney," Moody growled, "I should suspend you for stupidity unbecoming an Auror. This was a coordinated attack by a group of Death Eaters. Do you really think that we should let that go because their attack was only on one man? Do you really believe that we should go after a group of the survivors with a minimum force? Do you really think we should attack with less than every man and woman we can muster? Because if you do, tell me so at once, and I'll see you're never promoted into a position of authority."

Gurney's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stood there for a moment, quite clearly stupefied. And serve him right, Harry thought viciously. "Ginny will be Portkeying in, since she's not got her Apparition license yet," he told the others aloud. "I set it to return her to the Three Broomsticks."

"Then you'd best get over there to meet her, hadn't you, Potter?" McGonagall said, not unkindly. "We'll take care of what needs doing over here."

He nodded in gratitude. "Thank you, Headmistress," he said, and set off through the crowd, giving Gurney a wide berth and checking his watch as he went. His thoughts were focused entirely on his wife. Two-thirty. She left Headquarters at about noon... so she should be here any time. I hope.

He was stopped several times on his way to the pub by people he knew. A slap on the back, a handshake, promises of support "if you ever need me"--it seemed the whole Department knew precisely what had happened New Year's Eve.

Of course they do, tosser, he thought, snorting to himself. Most of them were there.

It was nice to have the support, though. Nice to have them here, to help him find Ron. Nice to know that his colleagues hadn't turned on him.

Except--

A blond man stepped in front of Harry, forcing him to stop. Harry raised an eyebrow. "Cipher," he acknowledged.

"Onyx." Cipher looked him up and down. "My, my. You look good. Apparently, casting Unforgivables agrees with you."

Harry kept a tight rein on his temper and quirked a corner of his mouth upward. "Apparently," he agreed.

"Or perhaps it's just not having to be on shift every other day. How does it feel to know your partner got kidnapped because you decided to indulge in a little torture of a helpless boy?"

"That 'boy,'" Harry said sharply, "was less helpless than you are, right here, right now. He'd already murdered his parents and baby brother, along with an innocent boy from school, and had knowingly cast his lot in with the Death Eaters."

"Ah," Cipher said in a knowing voice. "So that made torturing him all right."

Time to end this, Harry thought, before I lose my temper altogether. He smiled broadly. "Oh, no," he said. "That was just gravy. I tortured him because he annoyed me."

Cipher blinked, apparently surprised by the tone of voice, the answer itself, or both. Harry took advantage of his momentary silence to stride past him toward the Three Broomsticks, fuming. Bloody stupid wanker!

The pub was up ahead, and as he approached, he heard a sudden, familiar sound--the sound of a Portkey arriving. There was a flurry of activity around the door, and Harry broke into a run, praying with all his heart that it was Ginny returned.

It was. She was pale and exhausted, but alive and unharmed. He swept her into his arms and she clung to him, shaking with fatigue. He picked her up, unwilling to make her walk anywhere, and turned to the people who'd first helped her. "Get Twilight, Nacht, Moody, Major Miller, McGonagall, and the Minister," he said. "Tell them to go to the same room we met in earlier. Oh, and Madam Pomfrey, too," he added to someone else as several people sprinted off on his errands. "Tell her Ginny's condition; she'll know what to bring."

Without waiting to see if his second request was complied with, he shouldered the door to the pub open and carried Ginny to the back room. She leaned her head against his shoulder and didn't protest that she could walk, which worried him more than a little. He pushed the door to the room open with a toe and set Ginny in a chair very carefully, brushing her hair out of her face. She smiled wanly at him. "Are you all right, love?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine. Just tired. Flying all that way was exhausting, but I know I can find my way back. Instinct, you know."

Not quite convinced, but slightly less concerned than he'd been, he pulled a chair up next to her and sat down himself, letting her lean against him as he put his arm around her. "We won't go anywhere until you're ready," he whispered. "In fact, you don't have to fly; you could transform and perch on the end of my broom."

"But then how could I direct you?" she said logically. "No, I'll be all right in a few minutes, Harry. I promise."

The Minister and McGonagall came in, accompanied by Madam Pomfrey, who set a satchel on the table and came straight for Ginny, tsking. "You've overextended yourself again, Miss Weasley," she chided, peering into Ginny's eyes and feeling her forehead.

"No choice," Ginny said dryly. "Sorry, Madam Pomfrey."

Harry had pulled his arm from her so that the nurse could perform her examination without interference, but apparently she didn't need to do much. Once she'd looked Ginny over thoroughly, she poured out a dose of Pepper-Up potion and another that she said would help Ginny get her strength back. Ginny certainly perked up after them both, though Harry had to hold in a chuckle at the expression on her face as steam came out her ears.

By the time Madam Pomfrey was finished, the others had come in. The nurse picked up the last of her things and bustled out, closing the door behind her. As soon as she had gone, all eyes turned to Ginny, who leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. "I've seen Ron," she said in a quiet but steady voice. "He was unconscious but alive, and didn't seem to be hurt any worse than the broken leg, which hadn't been set. He was being kept in a back room of a small cabin in what I think was part of the Lake District."

"Did you get a head count of Death Eaters?" Moody asked.

"I counted twenty outside, plus two more inside, but as an owl, I couldn't go inside to check whether there were more without delivering something," Ginny said. "I doubt there was a basement, since they were keeping Ron on the ground floor, and there certainly wasn't much room in the cabin for that many people. The implication is that there's another base of operations somewhere else, and this is only being used for the purpose of holding my brother--or for some other purpose that we don't know about."

There were nods round the table. "You didn't fly here from there," Madam Bones noted. "Can you get us there even so?"

"Yes," Ginny said with no hesitation. "Not only that, but I can get you to a clearing a little way away--close enough to walk, but far enough away that the Death Eaters wouldn't be able to see brooms coming in from the north. They shouldn't be patrolling it, either, but I don't know that for certain."

"Tell us about the terrain surrounding the cabin," Twilight ordered.

"Lots of trees right up to the cabin on either side, and pretty close around back. A big clearing in front, though."

"How big?" Twilight asked.

"A good hundred feet out from the house, and as wide as the building itself."

"Is there a back door?" Moody asked.

"I didn't get round to the back," Ginny confessed. "I saw the front, saw Malfoy read Harry's letter and get angry, then saw him go into the room where Ron was and tell Ron's guards that if he escaped, he'd hold them responsible. I took that to mean that Malfoy wouldn't be moving him anytime soon."

"It might have meant the exact opposite," Major Miller put in. "It might have meant 'we're going to move him, so keep a close eye on him.'"

Ginny shook her head. "No, he told them to make certain Ron stayed in that room. He specifically used those words."

Again, nods round the table. "Good," Nacht said. "Was there any indication that there were more Death Eaters around that you just couldn't see?"

Ginny considered, then finally shook her head. "I don't think there was anything I could put my finger on as an indicator that yes, there were more, or no, there weren't, except what I've already said: the size of the building seemed far too small to house twenty-two Death Eaters and a prisoner, and it doesn't seem likely there's a habitable basement if Ron wasn't in it. That's all."

"About how far away is this--hut, did you call it? Cabin?" the Minister asked.

Again, Ginny thought. "It would probably take me about forty minutes to fly there on my own," she said. "Brooms could go faster, but--"

"Ginny can ride on my broom in owl form," Harry put in quickly, "and when we get close, she can take off on her own and lead us where she wants us to go. That'll let us move faster, and let her rest a bit so she's not so exhausted when we get there."

"An excellent idea," Minister Bones said. "Unless there's some reason that wouldn't work, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny looked helplessly toward McGonagall, who shrugged. "Mine is not a bird form, Miss Weasley," she reminded her. "I can no more answer that question than you could tell the Minister how high I can jump as a cat."

Ginny sighed and rested her elbows on the table, pressing the heels of her hands to her forehead and closing her eyes, as if battling a headache. "Madam Minister," she said quietly, "I just don't know. I don't know whether I can or not; I've just never done this before."

"It seems to me, Miss Weasley," Major Miller said, causing all hands to swivel to him, "that you could always try it, and if it didn't work, could simply take off from Captain Potter's broom and lead that way."

Twilight was nodding. "I concur," he said. "Anything that will keep you from being any more drained than you have to be can only help our cause." He grinned at Moody. "As I'm told you so eloquently said only a few minutes ago, Alastor, we certainly don't want to hit these Death Eaters with anything less than maximum force."

"So that's settled." Minister Bones looked at Twilight. "Is everything organised in preparation for leaving?"

"We've created teams of ten, each led by either an Auror or an Unspeakable," he said promptly. "Members of the Order of the Phoenix are scattered throughout them, unless they're folks who are patently untrained to fight. Those we'll be keeping behind as a kind of rear guard, ready to take care of casualties when we return." Twilight looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall giving you permission to create a Portkey," he said dryly, though his eyes twinkled, "but in the circumstances, we'll let it go."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said. He felt Ginny take his hand, and he squeezed hers gently.

"Have brooms been distributed to those who don't have them?" the Minister asked.

"Professor Flitwick was in process of doing that when I was summoned to this meeting," McGonagall said. "It seemed likely that the number of brooms we brought with us far outnumbered the number of fighters who did not have their own, so no doubt it's finished by now."

"We've at least one person in each team who can successfully cast a Disillusionment charm," Moody added. "Once we get there, if we want to hold some back while others go in, Disillusioning them might not be a bad idea."

"That's a decision that will have to be made on site," Twilight said, but he was nodding. "I like it, though. Anything that can give us an advantage is okay by me."

"Then have we anything else to discuss?" the Minister asked.

Everyone looked round the circle, but nobody said anything. Ginny's hand tightened painfully on Harry's.

"Very well, then," said Minister Bones. "Twilight, you will be in command. Moody, second-in-command. Potter, third. Nacht and I will stay behind and coordinate the rear guard." She rose, and the others rose with her. "Gentlemen and ladies," she said soberly, "good luck."

A/N: This chapter was probably the easiest to write of all of them, once I got moving on it. I want to thank everyone who's stuck with me so far. We're in the home stretch now; I hope it's as exciting as you've expected!

Many thanks go to Kokopelli, Sherylyn, Michele40, Minerva Weapotternger, and Jeconais for their help in pre-betaing. This chapter would not be what it is without them. And thanks, as always, to Ahmie, beta and Mum extraordinaire.