Chapter 6 Cages
She supposed every freedom must come to an end; every fighter must taste imprisonment at least once, for a while. She would never let them know who she was, though. Theo had taught her that the wand is just a tool to help a witch or wizard perform magic. He had taught her how to concentrate her magical energy though other objects, and though it was much more difficult, she could use it at a time of need: now.
The charms on her appearance could not lift or else she would be putting not only herself in danger, but also anyone else who cared enough about her to come trying to save her. She concentrated all her magical energy on remaining a simple, harmless prisoner. They knew she was a witch, but that was all, she was one among many other prisoners.
Ginny was ecstatic. For the first time, the Death Eaters seemed to be seeing her as a threat. She even wondered if there was some sort of reward on her head, because although she changed her appearance regularly her fighting technique was becoming known to both sides of the war. She had even encountered a Prophet Article about herself which made her heart bubble with pride.
But she was not the only one making newspapers. Before coming to Cambridge Ginny had come across some very interesting articles about how a Wizard was rumored to be helping defend that city against the Death Eaters. At other times they called the person “The Mad Muggle” because there wasn’t really much evidence of magic that the Ministry could detect in their investigations. The latest news she had heard reported that this fighter was not one, but several people and they began to call them the Phoenix Alliance like the Muggle Newspapers did.
Ginny wanted to see them. The rumors made them out to be some sort of legend – heroes.
Finally, she finished helping a Muggle couple and their child to safety and made her way back to the Battle. Blood was everywhere and agonized screams ripped through the air. But this was different. Here, there was a strange sort of unseen power filling her heart. Like hope. She saw a flash of something on fire, but it disappeared into an Alleyway. Since it was in the same general direction as the battle she decided to follow.
It was a thin tall figure in a white cloak, the ends of which seemed to be burning. Light fell around him and she realized he was holding up an old fashioned Muggle lamp like one Dad had in the shed. She followed him all the way to battle and even as she began to fight the Death Eaters she kept an eye trained on him.
Suddenly, Ginny came face to face with a beefy Death Eater that could only be Crabbe – or Goyle. She could never tell the difference anyway. “Expelliarmus!” she tried. But he was too quick. She cursed herself for underestimating him and dodged a strange bluish spell he shot at her.
“Wingardium Leviosa!” She hissed and levitated herself quickly coming back down behind him. She cast a summoning charm and a stunner in quick succession. He was hit in the side with a large brick and then the stunner caught him. He fell to his knees, but he did not look unconscious to her.
Something skimmed by her left ear and she moved hurriedly. Two more Death Eaters were approaching her fast so she acted upon impulse and sent Crabbe a Jelly-legs jinx followed by another stunner.
She whirled around and found herself facing only one Death Eater. Where had the other one gone? This one was fast. Much faster than herself. Ginny found herself moving as fast as she could, using the levitation trick much too often, and then being forced to Apparate away twice. Finally, she got her back to a wall and reflected that she had about ten seconds before three more Death Eaters caught up with her. She took a deep breath and summoned all her energy for one of Blaise’s most powerful spells.
They fell. All three of them and she watched with a maniacal sort of delight as they dropped to the ground. One of them was still struggling to get up, screaming like madwoman. Ginny grinned when she ripped off her Mask. Bellatrix Lestrange.
“Sectumsempra!” The spell hit the woman in the shoulder and a sickening ripping noise followed.
She Apparated away as fast as she could and changed her hair. Finally, casting about for a good way to make herself even more unrecognizable she darkened her skin a little.
Taking a deep breath, she readied herself to step back out into the battle.
Crack. She heard it before she felt anything. And then suddenly her head was throbbing and she fell forward and everything went black.
Drip. Drip.
She watched, almost entranced, as one of the youngest prisoners shuffled over so he was directly under the leak in the roof and opened his mouth to receive the disgusting water. Maybe she ought to try conjuring some water and food when she was sure no one was looking? She considered the thought, but that would be difficult without a wand and it would draw her magical energy away from the important task of remaining anonymous. Already, the struggle to keep it up day after day was draining her and the world was blurring around her into one large mess of the present and the past.
She kept dwelling on those mysterious gifts as she liked to call them. The warm winter cloaks that had appeared at the doorstep of the shelter – the one she liked to put gloves and shawls beside because she knew it was very cold even inside.
Her last action before getting into that battle in which she had got herself caught had been to help put the final touches and the last coat of beautiful blue paint on the shelter on Norfolk Street. That too had been one of the gifts from her mysterious wizard. She knew now that it was a witch or wizard because they’d forgotten to take the labels off some of the boxes and they had still read “Fawcett’s Fixes: Magical Solutions to your Home Design Needs.” She liked to tell herself that they were doing it for her, that someone out there wanted to help her do what she was doing, not hinder her by putting her in a cage for her protection.
Clang.
Ginny was shaken out of her memories and tried to focus her sight on the door. Someone, a Death Eater, had come through the door. She wondered who they would be taking this time, whose screams would echo around the stone dungeons tonight.
She shivered.
“That one!” she felt herself being levitated and ignored the laughter. Her gaze finally focused on the Death Eaters. One of them was Draco Malfoy.
“This one’s a witch, Sir,” the other wizard was obviously much older, but he seemed to hold Malfoy in awe or respect, “Would you know who she was?”
Malfoy stepped closer and examined her face. She kept her breath bated. She knew her charm was failing and it would only be a matter of luck if he didn’t recognize her. Her final transformation had barely saved her from Bellatrix’s wrath; none of them had recognized her as the one that had caused them so much trouble. She tried to put those thoughts out of her head in case they tried to read her mind or something. The stormy eyes staring into hers were strangely hollow. As if he was haunted by some fear.
She grimaced. Guilt, more likely.
“Slightly familiar,” he whispered, “…might have been a Hufflepuff or something. I never paid much attention to the Hufflepuffs.”
“Thank you sir, I’ll make a note of that, but you can have her now, will you be wanting anything else tonight?”
Ginny shuddered.
“No.”
He bound her hand and foot and levitated her out the door. The next few minutes were the most agonizing minutes in her life. They passed through a chilly passage full of Dementors and up many steps. He let her bump against the wall several times, eliciting laughter from other Death Eaters that she couldn’t even see in this dark, horrible nightmare.
Finally, they stepped out into the open and she took in gulps of fresh air. He let her fall to the ground and then grabbed her arm and Apparrated. Ginny was sure that some of her freckles, at least, had become visible because as soon as they reached the destination he looked directly at her face for a few moments, searchingly.
He finally untied the ropes around her ankles, but she was too disoriented to do anything. And she had to make the charm hold. He grabbed the rope around her wrists and pulled her up a set of rich stairs. She noted, with something like triumph, that the dirt and mud from her robes was making a mess of the elegant place, but her happiness was not to be. At least three elves had appeared out of nowhere and began to mop it up immediately.
“Who are you?” his voice sounded hoarse and unused.
She looked away and realized they were in a sitting room of some sort. He sat down on a rich armchair and conjured some food, offering it to her as if she was some kind of wild animal. Ginny took it; she did not feel at all fierce or strong now.
“I know you’re not a Hufflepuff,” he hissed, “And I know that’s not really your hair.”
When she did not respond he stood and walked closer to her. He took a loose lock of hair between his fingers and she held her breath. It was then she realized that in the current disguise her hair was the same blond color his mother’s had been. She shuddered as his wand suddenly found its way on her neck. “Change it!”
She gulped. Blaise was right, he was mad, “I…don’t have a wand.”
“You’re doing an excellent job keeping up the charm, though, aren’t you? I said change it.”
She nodded and tried to concentrate with a madman breathing down her neck and the wand of a murderer pointed straight at her. She thought of Blaise and her hair turned into thick, black hair. Draco hissed but he left her alone and walked a few steps away.
The ropes around her wrists disappeared and she began to eat hungrily. Not even bothering to check it for poison or spells. Not even caring. If she died, it would most probably be better than what was about to happen to her.
Seeming to lose patience he summoned some papers to him and grabbed her by her hair sticking them up to her nose. Her eyes watered, but she realized that it was the article about her. A colored picture of herself performing an extremely dangerous dive off a Muggle roof to land between a Death Eater and their victim was beside the words. At the time her hair had been very short and brown and she had been wearing dirty green robes and a black shawl around her neck.
“If you lie to me, I will know, and I’ll show you so much pain you’ll wish you were dead.”
“Why don’t you just find out for yourself then, and not bother me with the questions?”
His face stretched into a predatory grin. Ginny gulped. Suddenly she was reliving that day, feeling the same rush of power and excitement as she made the leap. But there was something else too that she was sure she had not felt during that battle; a strange sort of fierce longing.
She came to on the floor, gasping and staring at his polished shoes.
“Good,” he whispered, “Excellent.”
Ginny did not know if she should be relieved when she suddenly found herself in a small cramped cell. One side of it was completely made of glass and on the other side she could see Malfoy’s sitting room.
His eyes were trained on her as she was sure they would be for as long as she was imprisoned here. She let herself drop to the floor and found that the floor, although it looked like it was dirty, hard stone, was actually rather soft and warm. This must be some sort of mind torture, she thought, or maybe she was so tired that even cold hard stone was bliss, either way she could not be bothered at the moment. She curled herself up into a ball and fell asleep.
She was relieved to find that he did not stick around much. He was summoned by the Dark Lord countless times over the next couple of days and although she did not have much food and felt herself weakening more and more she still figured she was lucky. Maybe he was saving the real torture for his aunt Bellatrix, she mused.
Finally, two days later he magicked her out of the cell and Apparated out of the manor in a hurry. She found herself in a wood and saw that Malfoy had settled down with his back to a tree, staring at her in a frightening manner. Finally, he conjured some delicious looking food and levitated it towards her. She ate hungrily.
Finally, when they heard footsteps approaching, he stopped staring at her in that frightening manner and stood up. It was Theo. The boys stared at each other for a while and then Theo put a hand on Malfoy’s arm. “Thank you, brother.”
Malfoy shook his head as if in denial. “Is she yours?” he asked Theo. Ginny stood up angrily.
“No,” Theo said softly, “She’s free. You can be too, Draco.”
Malfoy Apparrated without a word leaving Ginny and Theo to stare at each other and wonder about insanity. Finally she could not bear it any longer. “Thank you… friend?”
He stepped closer and drew her into him. “You don’t have to ask, you crazy little Weasley,” he said, “You never have to ask.”
“I’m so sorry, Theo,” she said breaking down at his sudden warmth, “You were right.”
“Come,” he said finally, “You don’t look too bad, I want to take you to a place I think you’ve missed.”
She did not protest, just let him lead the way and followed. Finally, they came to a place she recognized. But it was changed. Her childhood home burned to the ground by her own hand, taking Fenrir Greyback and several other Death Eaters with it. She followed Theo into the woods until they reached the exact spot where a snowman wearing Percy’s hat had once stood.
“Things are so much more complicated than I thought.” she said, pulling the warm cloak he had just given her around her shoulders.
“The world doesn’t make sense, Ginny,” he said, “It really doesn’t, but we have to stay strong. I might not be willing to go out there and fight like you do, but I admire it in you. Just try not to get yourself caught next time.”
She laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
They heard some movement down by the rubble of house. Ginny realized that she had been relaxing and her hair had turned back to its distinct Weasley red. “Let me,” Theo said before she could try changing her Appearance. But he seemed to hesitate, “…it’s a bit of an experimental charm, this one.”
“Just do it, Slytherin!”
He stepped closer until she was engulfed by that comfortable smell she always associated with him. He closed his eyes and muttered something she didn’t quite catch. She almost thought he was going to modify her memory when she heard a snatch of something that sounded like “memoiri”, but the cool light feeling that overwhelmed her threw that thought out of her mind.
She looked down at herself and found that she was wearing a light pretty summer dress, definitely a few years older, and almost…transparent!
Ginny gasped, but Theo placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “It’s just an illusion, you’re not really a ghost.”
“Who am I?”
He turned away and it came out as a whisper. “My mum…as a I remember her.”
Ginny did not know what to say.
“So if anyone really is lurking around there we’ll just look like a half-mad wizard with a ghostly companion.”
Ginny smiled sadly and sat down on the snow, drawing Theo to her and letting him rest with his head on her, or rather his mum’s, ghostly lap. They stayed like that for a while, in silence, until Ginny began to feel very cold and tired. “Now,” she said, trying to lighten the air, “Be a good little boy and take me inside to a warm place!”
“Now that’s the crazy, controlling girl I know.”
…
It was when Blaise and Theo finally perfected their new charm to make a person unmemorable that she decided something needed to change. Ginny was not going to waste the rest of her life waiting for a victory that wasn’t going to come. They had to work for it, they had to change something about themselves and make it happen, turn the tide.
So when she perfected the charm and ensured that it would last for at least a week as long as she did not get grievously injured she set off for Hogwarts once again. It was quite difficult finding the place on her own, without the train to take her there, but soon she was standing in front of the gates and screaming some well-rehearsed speech that felt incredibly silly. Who was she to lecture the tens of people in there who were only trying their best? But the thought of them, of Harry, made her blood boil and she continued.
They couldn’t wait for him to do it. They couldn’t just sit back and wait for Harry Potter to save the day. And that, it seemed to her, was what they were doing. But the gates did not open for her and she heard no reply. She began to doubt whether there was anyone left in there when the arrow plunged into her back. She reeled forwards and fell to the floor with a shriek of pain.
Trying to get to her feet, she quickly recast the unmemorable charm. Just in time. Soon the doors creaked open and she was carried inside to safety by very familiar hands. “Welcome home, broom-thief,” her brother Charlie whispered in her ear, “I’m proud of you.”
