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Bring Me to Life by Scarlett
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Bring Me to Life

Scarlett

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this work, they all belong to J.K. Rowling.

AN: I wanted to make some amends in this chapter. I felt that Ron and Harry have gotten a bad wrap so far in this story. This was not my intention, but many people have gotten this impression as the story has progressed. Harry and Ron are growing up, and going though some very tough situations - so at first they will be "insufferable prats", but give them time they will evolve (in theory - but they are male : ) I hope this chapter goes towards explaining the mindset of the characters and why you shouldn't hate them! I have tried to fit my Ron and Harry into the character mold that J.K. Rowlings created, if you have any suggestions as to how improve that drop me a line or visit my live journal (where you may find some future bits of the story and some other fics that I am working on.) http://www.livejournal.com/users/scarlett_wfu/

Chapter 14: Old Friends

A young boy ran by Ron and Hermione clutching what appeared to be his first set of Hogwarts robes. His mother waited patiently for him to catch up before they entered Eeylops Owl Emporium. The tow-headed child proudly showed his smiling mother the length of black fabric that would soon become a staple article of clothing in his wardrobe.

Hermione smiled. She had been equally as excited her first trip to Diagon Alley, although a greater part of her excitement had been awe at the very existence of the charming cobbled alleyway in the heart of London.

Ron caught the grin on Hermione's face as she watched the first year animatedly point to an owl that was perched just inside the glass window to the shop. He wondered how she was holding up, this being their last year at Hogwarts. He knew she would miss the school terribly.

"Merlin was I ever that small!" Ron remarked looking at the small boy.

Hermione's eyes traveled up Ron's long frame. He had shot up like a weed during their 5th and 6th years at school and now was finally filling his frame out, his lankiness disappearing.

"I believe you were, Mr. "Dirt-on-your-nose" Weasley. Although you'd never be able to tell now."

"Ha Ha! Ms. "Bush-on-my-head" Granger!" Hermione harrumphed at Ron.

"My hair is no longer the frizzy bush it once was and I hardly see how it matters. One's hair should not be a determinant factor in their performance as a valuable member of society."

Ron laughed heartily at the typical Hermione response. He had to agree, her hair no longer held that shrubbery-like look it once had. While it was not the straight shining locks of Parvati, her brown hair lay in manageable waves now.

"Well where to first?" Ron asked Hermione after she tore him away from the window of Quality Quidditch Supply.

Hermione quickly pointed toward the apothecary. "Let's get Slug and Jiggers out of the way first, I hate that place. The smell...." Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste." I ran out of Jobberknoll feathers last term."

Ron nodded in agreement, "the whole place just reminds me of Snape - ugh!"

"Oh Ron, as much as we personally dislike the man you really shouldn't talk that way anymore. He did so much in the fight against Voldemort."

Ron scoffed at Hermione's defense of their potions master.

"Ron I'm serious, it's time that you realize that he isn't the evil death eater we thought him to be."

"Hermione, He's a Slytherin. How can you believe anything he says? I for one am having a hard time buying his story."

"Ron, must you be a stubborn prat?"

"I'm just telling the truth Herm. I don't understand why everyone is so willing to just forget the past and welcome traitors back into the fold. Now that the fighting is over, everyone is ready to forgive and forget immediately. Frankly I'm not. Too many people I loved died for me to simply let it go. Damn it I won't let them get away with it!"

They had stopped outside the entrance to the Apothecary. Hermione's mouth hung open a bit. She was a bit shocked at the vehemence of his statement. Of course Ron was known for his temper, but there seemed to be more behind this outburst.

"Ron, what's really going on?" she slowly asked him.

"Nothing is wrong Hermione. Come on lets go buy whatever it is you need from his godforsaken store."

Ron had gone red in his exertion of anger; Hermione reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay Ron, you can tell me about anything. You remember how we used to talk about everything for hours... what happened to that?"

Ron stared at her. Merlin he was too tired for this he thought.

"I don't know Hermione... I don't know..." Ron sighed with exhaustion.

Ron slowly sunk onto a small bench that sat in front of the apothecary. "Why did it all have to end up like this Herm? I thought once the war was over everything would be righted... instead I think it is worse than before..."

Hermione looked deeply at the red head who sat beside her. He had just voiced her soul. She hadn't thought anyone else felt quite like she did. She knew Harry was hurting, but he rarely expressed any doubt or frustration with her. She rationalized that he was probably doing so to help and protect her, but she needed to know if she was the only one who had come out of this war in the same or perhaps worse condition.

Hermione joined him on the bench. She placed an arm around his shoulders that were hunched toward his knees.

"I understand how you feel. I didn't think anybody else felt that way either." Ron tilted his head over toward the brunette seated next to him.

Hermione noticed how weary he looked for the first time. His eyes were bloodshot and a bit red rimmed. His red hair was frazzled; Hermione's heart went out to the old-friend sitting beside her.

"Oh Ron! What happened - I could tell something was wrong this morning."

Ron sighed. He really did need to talk to somebody, who better than Hermione one of his oldest friends.

"Ginny." His one word response seemed to sum everything up for him.

Hermione sat silently waiting for him to expound.

"She's with Malfoy." Hermione gasped, she hadn't been expecting that revelation.

"I suppose I should clarify" Ron paused after her gasp. "She apparently was recuperating at his home after the final battle and according to her they are friends. I don't know what to believe about her and him..."

Hermione contemplated Ron's remarks. She felt like she should know something about Ginny, after all they both had been captives this summer. But Hermione had yet to dwell on her memories from this summer; she had yet to flesh out her experiences. In fact she had done her best to forget all about it. In the brief moments she let herself think about her captivity she warred internally. One the one hand there were the terrifying memories of being held by Voldemort's minions, but on the other hand was the knowledge that she hadn't even been touched; in fact her presence seemed rather inconsequential.

She had been kept in a small cell, barred in, but beyond that she had experienced little hardship. She knew that Ginny had fared much worse though. During the three months that she had lived in Voldemort's hideout she had only seen Ginny once and to be quite honest it was a vision she would prefer to forget.

She recalled two burly cloaked figures taking her to a small room which contained a large cauldron. They had brought her here several times to remove memories from her and place them in what appeared to be a large pensive. Hermione had yet to determine a way to prevent them from entering her mind, and her failure frustrated her beyond imagination. As she sat, one of the brutes held her down with his meaty arms, the door at the far end, which Hermione hadn't even noticed before, creaked open.

Hermione recoiled instinctively as a figure emerged from the darkened room; it was the dark lord himself. His presence seemed to float through the room, but he was all too real as his billowing robes swept across Hermione's shoes. A shiver ran through her body, yet she steeled her spine unwilling to appear weak or cowed.

Voldemort did not spare her a glance. He was followed closely by several Death Eaters who were quietly chatting to each other. She thought she heard the cultured tenor of Lucius Malfoy, but in the low lighting she couldn't be certain.

The door swung shut solidly and Hermione's captives continued their work. A wand was raised to her temple and incantations were muttered quietly. Hermione tried to hold her mind closed, but she could feel the power of the spell prying in, breaching her defenses.

Hermione's attempts to ward off the magic were interrupted by the sound of the door once again opening. Her eyes darted over toward the doorway as two large figures filled the frame. They began forward but their gait was a bit stilted. It was then Hermione noticed that they supported a figure between the two of them.

The first thing Hermione noticed was ragged red hair, it hung down over its owners face obscuring their features.

More details became apparent as the triumvirate made their way forward. Hermione could tell that whoever it was, was terribly injured. Blood seeped from cuts on the girls legs. Hermione noticed scuffed Mary Janes and gray knee socks that had seen better days. That looks like a Hogwarts uniform she thought.

Her mind whirring... it couldn't be... Hermione hadn't been harmed and it baffled her to think that they would hurt her as well... especially since she had been the one to lure her off the train. Hell, Hermione had heard her personally address Voldemort as Tom and have a conversation with him.

"Ginny..." Hermione whispered quietly at first and then again a bit louder.

Her words earned her a slight rebuff from the man holding her shoulders. He pulled her back into the chair harshly, jarring her breath.

It had been enough though. Pain-filled cinnamon eyes lifted up to meet Hermione's own chocolate eyes.

Hermione was shocked at what met her eyes. Gone was the smiling, rosy cheeked Ginny and in her place was a shell of that girl. A slight spark flitted through Ginny's eyes as she recognized Hermione, but that dash of life was quickly suppressed by the opaqueness of hopelessness.

An audible gasp escaped Hermione's lips, and her hand flew up to her chest. What had happened to the girl! She was barely recognizable. Bruises marred her face and her Hogwart's uniform was soiled and torn. Hermione felt the crisp fabric of her shirt, while it wasn't immaculate it was no where near as worn as Ginny's.

Ginny stumbled at the sound of Hermione's voice. The two cloaked men halted their progress across the room. A small cry of pain was wrested from Ginny as the two men wrenched her upright.

Hermione wanted to get up, but the hands on her shoulders reminded her of her place and she remained seated. Ginny's haunted eyes had remained locked with hers as the two men had literally drug her limp form from the room.

It was at that moment that Hermione knew that Ginny hadn't helped to dark lord, and even if she had she was paying for it more than they could have ever made her. A sudden wave of guilt flowed though Hermione's system as her hand skimmed her own unmarred cheek.

Hermione shook her head physically removing herself from the memories that flooded through her mind. Ron's head still rested in his hands and he was exhaling harshly with every breath.

"Hermione, what do I do? I don't want to feel this way about my own sister, especially with Percy gone... but I can't... I can't ignore the facts - especially when she has offered no evidence to the contrary. Herm..." Ron raised liquid brown eyes up to Hermione, pleading for her help.

Hermione saw in the eyes of her best friend a desperation she had rarely seen.

"Oh Ron!" Hermione leaned towards him and pulled him into her arms. "Your sister will always be your sister." Hermione didn't know what to tell him, she wasn't ready to talk about her experiences, nor was she completely certain as to what Ginny had experienced this summer. "You have to trust your instincts, but remember that unless you talk to her you will never know what happened. Losing your sister can be prevented where losing your brother could not... Don't let that happen."

Images of her ailing mum shot through Hermione's mind as she hugged Ron tightly. She knew all to well how Ron felt, scared, unsure and alone.

"Thank you Hermione..." He wanted to say more, but couldn't find the words and he was sure that he would only muck up their re-kindled friendship.

He held onto her like she was the only thing solid in his life. It dawned on him that she had always been an anchor in his world. Over the years he had struggled to find himself. He had always felt lost in the shadow of his family and then Harry. But Hermione had often found a way to remind him that he was his own person, not simply the friend of the Boy-who-lived or as just another Weasley. As he had lain in bed following his injury he understood that as their friendship had waned he had allowed his sense of self to drift away as well. It was time for him to again look inside and remember who he was and what mattered. That included his family and his sister.

The two sat silently in front of the Apothecary, remembering what they had shared in years past, and hoping that they could carry that into the future.

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< p>

Harry had left her a few minutes ago to find Hermione and buy her the ice cream he had promised her. Ginny was glad the raven haired boy had finally given up on attempting to solve the "mystery that was Ginny Weasley." She was quite frankly exhausted and hurt too much to care about what Harry thought.

Harry had walked with her through Diagon Alley and eventually made them enjoy a glass of butterbeer at the Leaky Cauldron. To put it precisely Harry enjoyed a glass of butterbeer while he gave Ginny the third degree. She had sat silently through the majority of the conversation; staring at her glass and wishing for once that something stronger resided within.

She supposed that Harry was concerned for her, but she rather thought that a good deal of guilt laced his questions. He had said sorry, in more ways than she could fathom, for the fact that he hadn't been the one to rescue her. He had shied away from any direct questions to her about what had happened. He seemed only interested in expunging his own personal anguish. Perhaps she had grown bitter in her pain and anger. She shouldn't assume such things about Harry.

But then he would drop his self-serving demeanor and ask what he could do for her, and if there was anything he could do to help her and Ron. His eyes would search into her own and Ginny felt compelled to lower her eyes, afraid he would see too much. Why it mattered to her she could not decide. She wanted to harden her heart to him, but she just couldn't. She damned herself for being so soft; it would only get her hurt. She knew this logically, but she supposed she wasn't as logical or as calculating as she wanted to be.

A loud commotion from down the alley shook her loose from her thoughts.

"Ginny! Ginny Weasley? Is that you?"

Ginny immediately recognized the voice of Colin Creevey, a fellow Gryffindor. He sounded... pleased to see her.

Ginny whirled around and was caught up quickly in a bear hug. Colin had grown she thought. He was several inches taller than her now. Well she supposed she couldn't tease him for being short any longer. His hair had lightened to a dark blonde this summer, but still waved slightly and his ever-present dimples lit up his face as he smiled. But he looked older, not the same as she had left on that bus three months ago.

She had been friends with Colin for years. Both had been slightly ostracized amongst their classmates; Colin, for his irritating eagerness and odd obsession with photography, especially that of Harry Potter, and Ginny for her obsession with Harry and her quiet nature after her first year. They had found solace in each other and had become fast friends.

Colin pulled back from the hug he held her in and smiled at her. Finally Ginny managed a small smile back at him. She had been received accusatory glances all afternoon, and had grown weary of the hostility that accompanied her every movement. She supposed that she should have expected such feelings from the general public (after all just look at her own family) but she had harbored a small hope that most simply didn't know anything about her and her connection with Lord Voldemort. She didn't realize how much she longed for a familiar, accepting face.

"Hello Colin." She began quietly, hopeful that he wouldn't treat her as others had, yet still cautious.

"Ginny! I missed you Red..." Ginny's face broke out into her former smile. His familiarity was her undoing.

"I missed you too Col- I can't tell you how glad I am to see you."

"You looked a little lost, definitely in need of a friend." His infectious grin again lit up his face. "How is the school shopping going?"

Ginny paused before responding. He was acting as if nothing had happened... for once she was glad that issues weren't being pressed and that she could simply be Ginny, with no baggage attached.

"Almost done. I just need to pick up a few books. How's yours going?"

"It looks like great minds think alike, all I have left is my texts as well." Colin flung an arm around her shoulder and led her into the bookshop.

At first Ginny stiffened at the presence of his arm around her shoulders, but she quickly warmed to his presence. In fact she was greatful for his support as they entered Flourish and Blotts.

Colin looked down at the redhead who walked next to him. He was worried about her. Make no mistake, he knew what was being said about her, he just refused to believe it. Colin had been friends with Ginny for far too long to believe everything that was said about her without first talking with her.

Ginny had been friends with Colin when he was a complete wanker, obsessed with Harry Potter and taking photographs. Granted he still enjoyed photography, but he had moved on and now leaned more towards artistic works. Ginny had refuted the many rumors floating about Hogwarts that he was a poof, even at her own expense when rumors ran wild that they were an item. Ginny always made sure that he had a defender, and he had done the same for her.

He knew she was hurt, it was written all over her pale face. Her large cinnamon eyes were ringed with weariness. He wouldn't press her; he had a feeling that she was being questioned enough. He would just try and be the best friend that he could be.

The two quickly gathered the books that they needed for the upcoming school year and headed to the checkout. Ginny scrounged up the last of her coins and paid, she sighed. She had hoped to get a new robe, seeing as how she had lost one this summer, but it appeared the money her mother had given her wasn't intended to stretch that far.

Colin watched her relinquish the last bit of her money in frustration. He hated that she wasn't able to have money to spend on herself, but he also knew that she would never complain voice her own frustration, she had too much pride to seek such pity.

Once they left the store Colin surprised her by quickly pulling her into the shop next door, into Madame Malkin's.

Ginny sputtered... "Col...Colin... what are you doing?"

"I'm celebrating your birthday!"

< p>

"Oh hush! I know you didn't get to celebrate your birthday this summer. Let me do this for you."

Ginny's head dropped. She hadn't thought much of her missed birthday this summer. It simply hadn't seemed to be of much importance in the grand scheme of things. She had been in no position to think of her birthday in July, nor had she been around anyone who would have thought of her 'special day'. Tears began to form in her eyes. This was ridiculous; she was turning into a regular watering pot! Ginny quickly swiped at the tears and turned toward Colin. She quickly flung her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek into his chest.

"Thank you Colin..."

"What is a friend for?" He wrapped his arms around her back and reciprocated the embrace. "Ginny, you don't have to tell me anything about what happened to you this summer until you are ready. I trust you, I always will."

Ginny was never more glad that she had befriended the small muggle-born boy her second year.

"Now let's get you a gorgeous robe!"

**********************************************************************************

Diagon Alley was growing dark; most stores had closed their doors for the evening. But murmurs and whispers still emanated from a small alleyway. The few remaining occupants of Diagon Alley scurried past the dark entrance over which hung a small wooden sign with the words 'Knockturn Alley'.

Draco Malfoy had grown up venturing down such uninviting paths; so tonight he felt no qualms walking past Knockturn Alley as he carried his newly purchased books, owl treats and stationary back towards the Leaky cauldron.

He had decided to come late and finish his shopping; he didn't feel it necessary to parade himself about Diagon Alley in the middle of the afternoon.

He paused by the entrance remembering the many times his father had brought him to Knockturn alley. It had always been a lesson in the power his family wrought and the capabilities of the dark side of magic.

As a young boy he had been frightened by the hags and misfits that inhabited the dark alley. They would grope at you as you passed. His father would pull him along silently, refusing to acknowledge the miscreants. Draco had developed a sense of family pride from these excursions. He knew his name wielded power over such people, people of which his classmates were desperately frightened.

< p>

Draco was spun around to face a cloaked figure. The man was shorter than Draco, but he was stockier and more heavily muscled. He quickly assessed the situation and determined that his chances of breaking the mans hold on him were limited and that he would have to rely on cunning to escape this situation.

"Malfoy." A low gravelly voice ground out.

The man obviously knew who he was, and this was a planned confrontation.

Draco stared silently at the man who stood before him. Footsteps echoed around him. He slowly swiveled his head and took in the group of similarly cloaked figures that had moved to surrounded him. Draco refused to allow himself to feel fear. There really was no point. He would use the skills he had, both mentally and physically to extract himself from this situation and if not...

Draco returned his attention to the man holding his arm, the one with the familiar voice. A cruel smile lit the cloaked mans face.

"Young Malfoy... Don't you know better than to wander near Knockturn Alley at night?" His voice taunted him.

Nott! That was the voice. He recognized his father's friend as the man who now stood before him.

"Nott..." Draco acknowledged his presence ready to play the game. "I am no longer a boy I believe I can "wander" where I want."

"That is where you are wrong Malfoy. You are still a boy, make no mistake about that."

Draco remained silent.

Nott cracked a sharp laugh at Draco's response, or lack thereof.

Nott's demeanor quickly changed as he remembered his purpose. "Your actions have not gone unnoticed. You committed a crime beyond the pale."

"Are you threatening me?" Draco sneered at the man before him. He could not believe this. What did these men hope to gain? Obviously death eaters still remained active, but their lord was gone."Surely you know better than that Malfoy. Your father did a better job raising you than that. We would not threaten you, to do so would provide little gain. We will however seek retribution for your treacherous actions. No traitor will go unpunished. You do remember the oath you took?" Nott's face split into an evil grin.

Draco heard the advance of the men surrounding him.

As Draco was distracted by the sound of the approaching men, Nott landed a well placed blow to Draco's midriff. His breath whooshed out and Draco doubled over.

"I don't think we will kill you now, perhaps you will be of some gain to us later on. After all we do know where to find you should we need to... Consider this a warning."

Nott stepped back and withdrew his wand. Before Draco could react he heard the word "Crucio" quietly uttered from Nott's mouth.

Draco's teeth clenched, biting deeply into his lip. He refused to cry out with the intense pain that was gripping his body. It wasn't the first time such a curse had been cast upon his body and something told him it wouldn't be the last.

Nott wanted to break him, but quickly saw that the curse would not accomplish his goal. An evil smile flitted across his features. How fitting he thought. If he chose to betray then with the filthy mudbloods, then he would feel the pain of a muggle.

He removed his wand and nodded his head toward the men who surrounded Draco. They quickly advanced on Draco who was still regaining his breath from the use of the curse.

Several punches landed on Draco, one near his kidney, the other an uppercut to his jaw before he had a chance to defend himself. Draco quickly assumed a fighting stance. As against the grain as it was Draco had insisted that he be trained to fight without a wand.

< p>

A third advanced, Draco blocked his throw and used his leverage to toss the man to the ground. At this point Nott was done toying with Draco, he inclined his head and four remaining men surrounded Draco. Two attacked from behind, pinning Draco's arms. The other two smiled slowly, appearing to enjoy the prospect of beating the young man before them.

Draco knew what was going to happen, he didn't relish the thought. But he wouldn't struggle and give them the benefit of seeing him beg for mercy. He had been taught better.

A series of crushing blows rained over his face, and abdomen. Draco took each hit with stoic silence.

Nott smiled despite the fact that the beating was not breaking the boy. He would be a tough one, and for that Nott was pleased.

"Enough!" Nott stepped towards the blonde who somehow managed to still stand. Bruises blossomed across his face, and blood ran freely from his nose and lip.

"Remember young Malfoy, wherever you go, we will find you. Whoever you care for, we will hurt. You will be brought to heel." Nott spat at Draco as he gathered his men and headed back into Knockturn Alley.

Draco turned his beaten body slowly back toward the Leaky Cauldron, refusing to falter. He held his head up and moved forward occasionally wiping away the blood that collected on his chin.

He sighed as the green flame licked at his heels and sent him spiraling toward Malfoy Manor. It was as he expected, he had been naïve to think otherwise.

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Thank you for all the reviews - I appreciate it more than you can imagine.

I hope the next chapter will be more prompt than this one!!!

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