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Author: Arnel Story: Summer Story Rating: Young Teens Status: Completed Reviews: 5 Words: 165,053
Noooo. I dowanna. Doemayme. Nooooo. Lemme alooooooone! Someone was moaning in their sleep. Ginny, now fully awake, turned over on her stomach and pulled her pillow over her head. The mournful sounds continued. Geroff me! Help! Sumun helme! NOOOOOO! Ginny looked at her alarm clock and discovered it was only a little past midnight, thank goodness. She listened again. The sounds were definitely not coming from any of her sleeping room mates, so she concluded that only one person could be moaning in her head. She decided to wake him. Harry! HARRY!!! Ginny yelled. WAKE UP! The moaning stopped as Harry stirred. She tried again, a little less urgently this time. Harry, wake up. You’re having another nightmare. Harry finally woke up enough to respond. Huh? What? Oh... Ginny? Yes, it’s me. Did you turn off the light again? Oh, yeah. I guess I did since it’s dark in here. Well, do me a favour and turn it back on. I have a Potions test in the morning and I can’t afford to fall asleep over my cauldron, she told him testily. Sorry, Ginny. Damn... I’m all twisted up in my bedclothes! Help! Ginny started giggling. She couldn’t help it. What’s so funny? Harry demanded. Ergh! Where’s my wand? Try under your pillow, she suggested. After a moment, Harry replied. Light’s on. Good. Why did you turn them off? Ginny asked, fluffing her pillow and preparing to settle back in. She felt Harry sigh. I wanted to see if I could sleep like a normal person. I guess my experiment didn’t work. No, it didn’t, Harry. Do you want to talk about it? The dream? No. Your call, Harry. She paused, then asked, Do you want me to help you get back to sleep? That would be nice. Thanks. Hmm...let’s see... Which would you prefer? Lists of potions ingredients and their functions in various types of potions or something else? she asked, smiling to herself. She could almost feel him laughing as he told her, If you need to revise I’ll listen, but I’d prefer something else. I thought so, she said. How about this? Ginny concentrated on some of her more pleasant memories from the past summer, images of the two of them strolling by the lake and sitting under the stands at the Quidditch stadium. In turn, Harry surprised her by sending his own image of them snuggling by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room the morning after his trip into the Chamber of Secrets. Is this helping? she asked after a while. Yeah, it is. Thanks. I’m sorry I woke you up. Harry responded. I can hardly wait to see you again. She sighed. I’ll be home in two days, Harry. Can you hold on until then? Yeah, I think I can. Good night, Ginny. Good night, Harry. ~ Two days later, just five days before Christmas, Ron, Ginny and Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express, eager to get home to the Burrow. Hermione was staying with the Weasleys this year because her parents had decided to join some dentist colleagues at a Jamaican resort that was for adults only. When she had read her mother’s letter explaining the situation, Hermione had grumbled about not being included even though she could legally drink at age eighteen in Jamaica and immediately accepted Ginny’s invitation to join her family for the holidays. Now, as they hurried along the corridors searching for an empty compartment, Ginny shuddered, unable to escape the feeling that eyes were watching her from behind. When she was sure no one else could overhear, she remarked about it to Ron. “I think there are Death Eaters on the train,” he whispered. “Thank goodness, no Dementors,” Ginny shot back, feeling slightly relieved. “Death Eaters I can deal with, but still, I hope the train flies to London. The sooner we get there, the better.” They finally found a compartment in the last coach and were soon joined by Luna and Neville. “Just like old times,” Neville remarked, shoving his trunk into the luggage rack and making a quick dive for Trevor as the toad tried to escape under the seat. “What do you mean?” Luna asked, looking puzzled. “There’s never been Death Eaters on the train before.” “Oh, Luna, he only meant that this is about the eighth time we’ve all ridden in a compartment together,” Ginny explained. “Isn’t that right, Neville?” “Uh-huh,” Neville replied over his copy of Herbology Today. Luna pulled out The Quibbler, turned it upside down and began reading herself, leaving Ron, Ginny and Hermione to stare out the window as the Hogwarts Express began chugging out of the station. The ride was pleasant enough, though rather chilly because someone kept leaving the door open at the end of the corridor. Ginny had just taken her turn closing it when commotion farther up the coach disturbed the peace of their compartment and the train slowed to a stop. Several minutes later, she and the others watched in horror as two armed and hooded Death Eaters passed their door, two students, bound and gagged and dangling from a pole, between them. “That—that was Gail Shearer and Georgette Spencer!” exclaimed Ginny as the coach door closed behind them. “What did they do that the Death Eaters would take them away like that?” Hermione thrust her copy of The Daily Prophet into Ginny’s hands and pointed at the main article entitled, Shearer and Spencer Speak Out Against the Ministry. “I think the families are being punished,” she whispered. An eerie silence filled the compartment as the train began moving again. No one spoke until they met Mr Weasley at the platform in King’s Cross Station. ~ They found the Burrow in chaos. All of the ground floor windows were open and something white was drifting through them. Ginny nudged Ron and together they said, “Fred and George!” causing Hermione to giggle. The aroma of Mrs Weasley’s baking issuing from the kitchen made their mouths water as the entered the house, even as the cloud of flour set them into fits of sneezing. It didn’t help to see Fred and George emerging from behind the counter looking like ghosts and apologizing profusely for causing the explosion that had covered every surface with a fine coating of the white stuff. The only thing that seemed to have saved the twins from a maternal tongue-lashing was the group’s arrival, so the pair quickly whipped out their wands and siphoned the flour back into its container... behind their mother’s back as she bustled towards the group standing just inside the front door. Mrs Weasley greeted them at the door with a sneeze, a hug and separate lists of things everyone was to get done before dinner so that no one had to sleep on the sitting room sofa... at least until Bill and Fleur showed up in three days’ time. As she looked over her list—bake four loaves of bread, help Hermione change the sheets on both beds in their room, rid the sitting room of excess flour, this last item appearing magically as her mother gave her the list—Ginny glanced up to see Harry emerging from the flour cloud. “All my stuff is in Ron’s room now, Mrs Weasley,” he said, coming fully into the sitting room. “I’ll help Dudley with the Christmas decorations when he gets home from the library.” His face lit up as he spied Ginny and quickly crossed the room to greet her. “I’m so glad you’re here!” he said, taking her into his arms and brushing some flour from her shoulder. Ginny hugged him back. “You’re looking fit,” she replied happily, so that only he could hear. “Knowing you were coming home for two weeks helped me a lot,” he said just as softly. “I’m feeling so much stronger.” “Mmmm, I’m so glad I could help,” she murmured in his ear. She tightened her arms around his waist and momentarily laid her head on his chest. He suddenly pulled away as Ron burst out, “You’ve given me the chicken coop again? Why do I always have to muck out those bloody birds?” “Watch your language, Ronald,” Mrs Weasley cried, pointing a finger at him. “Would you rather clean out the oven the Muggle way before Ginny starts the baking?” Ron threw up his hands and took a step backwards. “No way am I setting foot in that kitchen other than to eat! Especially with those two here,” he said, pointing at his brothers and making Hermione giggle. He scowled at her as he said a little more contritely, “All right, I’ll do the coop. Just let me go change.” Satisfied, Mrs Weasley drew her wand and Banished all the school trunks to their various bedrooms. Ron shook hands with Harry and then disappeared up the stairs to change. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Fred and George sneaking out the back door and suppressed a twitter of laughter at the twins’ hasty exit. Avoiding Mum... Just like when we were little, she thought. It’s so good to be home! ~ The atmosphere at the dinner table that evening was tense. All the young people wanted to know more about what was really going on at the Ministry, and Ginny’s parents seemed very reluctant to pursue the subject, at least until the meal was finished. When her parents at last exchanged looks across the long expanse of the table, Ginny knew the news wasn’t good. Her father sighed and said, “We can’t keep this from you any longer, especially now that you’re home. We, your mother and I, need to make several things quite clear.” All heads swivelled in his direction, everyone’s attention focused on what he was about to say. “First, I must warn you not to say the name. If you do, Ministry-appointed groups of wizards will hunt down the offender and throw him or her into Azkaban without a hearing. If you must talk about him, use only the common terms the Wizarding world has used for the last two decades.” “Any special reason why?” Harry enquired. “This is the first time you’ve said anything about it since I’ve been here.” “A taboo has been put on the name to help the Death Eaters weed out those opposed to the new administration and the wizard backing it,” Mr Weasley said gravely. “We haven’t said anything since you’ve been here because we haven’t broached the subject, Harry.” “We thought it would be a difficult subject for you,” Mrs Weasley explained. Ginny recognized the protective gleam in her mother’s eyes and hid her smile behind her glass of pumpkin juice. “We also needed to impress upon all of you how serious the situation is,” Mrs Weasley continued. Her gaze included everyone at the table as she added, “I need promises from all of you that you’ll practice constant vigilance while you’re here.” She smiled at Mr Weasley as those around the table promised to be careful. He cleared his throat. “Second, You-Know-Who is having his followers round up the children of anyone who opposes his regime. Because of my penchant for all things Muggle, my association with the Order, and, unfortunately, with Harry as well, I... I’m being watched.” The occupants of the table burst into indignant exclamations and it was a while before anyone could hear Mr Weasley above the din. “There’s more...” he continued as his audience quieted. “The Minister of Magic, Cory Pembroke, for intents and purposes, is a puppet. Everything he does is controlled by the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who; one of the first decrees he made was mandating the kidnapping of children of the opposition to make those who speak out against the Ministry toe the line.” Ginny felt her stomach drop. “What’s... where are they taking the children?” she asked, feeling rather weak. “Two girls from my year were taken off the train around three o’clock today.” Mr Weasley sighed. “We don’t know where the Death Eaters are taking the children. If you’re correct, then the two newest detainees raise the number to thirty-five since September.” “Their poor families...” murmured Mrs Weasley. “It gets worse,” Percy said grimly. “The last issue is the most frightening.” Ginny and the others stared uneasily at Percy. If he knows about it, it can’t be good, she thought. “It was implemented in September,” Mr Weasley said, his gaze falling first on Harry and then Hermione. “It’s an official governmental decree that mandates the registration of half-bloods and Muggle-borns.” A gasp went round the table; Ginny watched the blood drain from both Harry and Ron’s faces. Hermione buried her face in her hands. “I... I have to register?” Harry croaked in disbelief. Mr Weasley nodded solemnly. “And Hermione, too?” Ron whispered, looking stricken. He turned to Hermione who didn’t look up. “So that’s what was in the letter you got from the Ministry on Wednesday. Oh, Hermione, I wish you’d told me!” She nodded faintly as he addressed the table at large again. “She wouldn’t show it to me and she’s been distracted ever since.” Hermione raised her head and looked at Ron, her expression bleak. “That wasn’t the first letter I’d received, Ron,” she said quietly. “It was the third.” Furious, Ron demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me about the others?” “You couldn’t have helped me and I might have put you in danger if they’d known I’d shown it to you. You know how many spies there are at Hogwarts now. If someone had heard us discussing my letters, something might have happened,” she said calmly. “I went to Professor McGonagall for advice instead. I haven’t registered yet because she advised me not to do so. I’ve been on their list of Unregistered Muggle-borns since right before we rescued Harry.” “Why didn’t she have you register?” Harry asked. “So far, Professor Snape has been keeping the Hogwarts gates sealed and the students safe from the Ministry,” Hermione replied. “So far, as long as they can’t find us, the half-bloods and Muggle-borns have been safe.” “I don’t get it,” Ron interrupted, looking at Hermione. “How come the Death Eaters that were on the train didn’t try to force you to register while we were on it? If they were taking students off because of things their parents did, why didn’t they take you, too?” Hermione shook her head. “I have no real answer for that,” she sighed. “My guess is that the Hogwarts Express is the property of the school and Professor Snape extended his protection to the students while they were on it.” “And because Dad actually met us at the door of the carriage,” Ginny speculated, “the Death Eaters had no chance to elbow their way into our group and make you register.” “A good thing, too,” muttered Ron as he put his arm around Hermione’s shoulders. Harry pushed back from the table and stood up abruptly. He began pacing the length of the table as he said resolutely, “I’m not going to register.” He looked directly at Hermione. “And neither are you. They’re only trying to get at me, flush me out into the open, especially now that I have escaped their clutches, by treating my friends... my family... as non-citizens.” He focused his attention on Mr Weasley. “What are we signing ourselves up for, exactly, if we do register?” The group held its breath as Mr Weasley answered, “If your answers to their ancestry questionnaire comply with theirs, those who register are branded with a Ministry serial number, have their wands commandeered and are sent on their way to cope with everyday life as best they can without a wand. Those whose answers are found deficient are branded, their wands are snapped in front of them and they are immediately sent to Azkaban without trial.” “That’s not fair!” Fred exclaimed loudly as George added, “Completely uncalled for.” “Why are they taking or snapping people’s wands?” Ginny asked more calmly than she felt. “Is it because half-bloods and Muggle-borns are thought of as polluting magical blood?” Before Mr Weasley could answer, Percy said woodenly, “No, Ginny. It is the view of the new Minister of Magic that Muggle-born and half-blood wizards have appropriated their magical skill through dubious means. This is a punishable offence, with a term of incarceration of no fewer that three months levied at the time of discovery with no chance of appeal. Most will never see freedom again under this regime.” Hermione spoke, her voice several notes higher than usual. “Percy, do you truly believe that?” Percy shook his head. “No, Hermione, I don’t. It was one of the last Decrees I worked on with Delores Umbridge who, at the time I was forced to leave the Ministry, was pushing Minister Scrimgeour to sign it into law, I’m ashamed to admit,” he said hollowly. “I was forced to work on the Decree despite my feelings against it, so I tried everything I could think of to sabotage the legislation.” His voice took on a note of pride. “I nearly succeeded, too. At my urging, Minister Scrimgeour refused to sign it along with five or six others we both found repulsive because they restricted the freedom of the populace.” “So why have they become law now?” Harry asked. “Cory Pembroke has been Imperiused, I think,” Mr Weasley interjected. “Every law or decree that belittles those not of pure-blood extraction is a coup for You-Know-Who. Pembroke has signed every one of them.” “That’s barbaric!” Dudley exclaimed, joining the discussion for the first time. “Almost worse than what Hitler did to the Jews!” “I agree with you, Dudley,” Mr Weasley commented. “Unfortunately, it’s our law at the moment. The more I think about it the more I think You-Know-Who studied Hitler’s writings, with as bad as times are becoming.” “Mr Weasley, You-Know-Who didn’t study Hitler. He studied Grindelwald’s autobiography and writings,” Harry said quietly as all eyes at the table focused on him. “Who is Grindel-guy?” Dudley asked at the same time that Mr Weasley asked, “Where’d you learn that, son?” and Ron commented, “Blimey, Harry, why’d you bring him up?” “Professor Dumbledore wanted me to know my enemy and my enemy studied the wizard closest to Hitler, Grindelwald,” Harry said carefully. He quickly explained to Dudley about Dumbledore’s duel with Grindelwald and how You-Know-Who wanted to be greater than his predecessor. When he finished, Percy asked pensively, “You mean to tell us that Grindelwald actually published something? I’ve never read anything by him.” “Neither have I,” Hermione added in a small voice. “He did, just like Hitler published his political biography, Mein Kampf, back in the nineteen-twenties,” Harry replied. “I don’t remember what the title was, but it was a treatise on how a model Wizarding government should work.” “We had to read some excerpts from Mein Kampf last term in world history,” Dudley said. “Some of the passages we read were really racist.” “As were Grindelwald’s ideas,” Mr Weasley said solemnly. “If I remember correctly, he proposed that only pure-bloods be given governmental jobs and that those of Muggle-born and half-blood extraction should have their homes and businesses confiscated because they were polluting Wizarding society with their tainted magical blood. He eventually put these ideas into practice.” “What happened to the people whose lives were ruined?” Dudley asked. “They were forced out into the streets where an elite group of pure-blood wizards was given carte-blanche to kill them on sight,” Mr Weasley replied. “And this is what our current governmental philosophy and policy is based on?” Percy inquired, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, it is,” Mr Weasley said. “But You-Know-Who seems to have taken it much farther than what Grindelwald managed to do in conjunction with Hitler. Nowadays, You-Know-Who’s hit-wizards just waltz into whatever building their targets are hiding in, use the Killing Curse first and ask questions later.” “This Killing Curse... was it the one used on Harry’s parents?” Dudley asked, shocking the entire table into silence. Harry faced his cousin across the table. “Yeah, that’s the one,” he said, his face stony. The discussion continued, but Ginny began to tune out, idly pushing her food around her plate with her fork. She felt terrible, as the world she knew crumbled around her. She kept one ear on what the others were saying; phrases concerning Voldemort, his search for supreme power—the power to be immortal—and the Unforgivable Curses raced around the table in comparison with the horrible prisons Grindelwald had constructed. These in turn were compared with Hitler’s concentration camps, brought up by Dudley and his limited knowledge of Hitler’s War. At one point, she heard him say something about “Blitzkrieg” and tales of the destruction of both magical and Muggle Britain and Germany began flying around the table. Even Mrs Weasley joined in with a story she had heard from Grandmother Prewett. In the meantime, Ginny’s other ear was turned to her own thoughts. What she had heard of the Ministry sent chills up her spine. I’m lucky my family is still free, she thought. Even though Dad’s being watched and Percy can’t show his face in his old office for fear of arrest, things could be so much worse. She shuddered involuntarily as horrible possibilities wormed themselves into her brain. When she looked up, Hermione was staring at her, an eyebrow raised. Ginny shook her head and took a bite of her steak and kidney pie, just to reassure her friend that she was all right. Finally, the discussion seemed to have been exhausted, for everyone at the table fell silent, seemingly as overwhelmed as Ginny. Only the clink of cutlery sounded in the room for several minutes. Feeling the need to bring up another subject so as to lighten the sombre mood, she turned to Harry and asked quietly, “Have you taken those papers to Godric’s Hollow yet?” Harry looked relieved at the change in subject. “No, not yet. I was thinking about going on Monday. I have until Tuesday, but that’s getting too close to Christmas if I have to go back to redo any of the papers.” “Would you like some company?” Ron asked. “It might be fun to see your new property.” A smile lit up Harry’s face. “You beat me to it, Ron. Yes, I very much want you, Ginny and Hermione to come with me. Security in numbers, you know,” he said, a shadow fleeting across his face that Ginny didn’t think the others saw. He turned to Dudley. “Would you like to come with us on Monday? The last time I was there I saw a little inn and a pub that might have fireplaces attached to the Floo Network that we could use.” Dudley shook his head. “Thanks, Harry, but no. I’ve had a letter from Mum and I’ve accepted her invitation to have lunch with her on Monday,” he replied. “Can I see your new house some other time?” Harry smiled across the table at Dudley. “Sure, Dudley. Just let me know when you want to go.” Dudley got up from the table, and after leaving his dishes on the counter, he disappeared up the stairs. A few minutes later, he reappeared clutching his laptop which he deposited on the sitting room table. Then, to Ginny’s amazement, he grabbed a washing-up cloth and began washing the dishes. Harry picked up a tea towel and joined him as Mrs Weasley whispered, “They’ve taken to cleaning up like this since Harry began coming down stairs. The first night it took three times as long as it does now because Harry needed to rest so often.” “Why didn’t Dudley just tell Harry to go sit down or something?” Ron asked quietly. Hermione looked askance at Ron. “You know how stubborn Harry is,” she murmured. “I bet Harry kept telling Dudley he was fine and to just leave him alone.” Mrs Weasley shook her head. “That’s exactly what happened.” Ginny exchanged a look with her brother and Hermione. “Yep, that’s Harry, all right,” Ron commented. He stood up, grabbed the empty pie dish and took it to the counter. Hermione followed with two other platters and soon she, Ginny and Ron had the table cleared of dishes. When clean-up was complete, Fred and George bid everyone good night and Apparated away as Dudley and Mr Weasley found places on the sofa in front of Dudley’s laptop. Hermione joined them and the three were soon avidly discussing the computer. Ron persuaded Harry to play Chess with him and the two settled down at the board. As for Ginny, she and her mother went upstairs and finished wrapping their Christmas gifts, something they hadn’t done together in several years. Later that night, as she slipped into bed, Ginny sighed happily. As awful as the country’s political situation was at the moment, she had to be thankful for the fact that it had helped her family reunite. She just hoped that the strain of coping with the danger of being labelled blood-traitors wouldn’t affect her parents too greatly and that her family, Dudley, Harry and Hermione could remain safe until the war was over. A/N: Many thanks to my pre-beta, GhostWriter. His additions, suggestions and comments helped to make this chapter much better than when I originally wrote it. I appreciate his willingness to help me phrase everything just right. I also thank Aggiebell, my beta, for her help in catching a couple of things that weren’t absolutely clear.
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