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Be Careful
68: What You Touch

By Anne B. Walsh

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"Come and get you, dearie? Of course!" Alecto cackled again and raised her wand.

Ginny braced herself to sweep the sword around to block the spell, praying it would work the way she needed it to. Spells ricochet off mirrors, so a shiny sword blade should—

Alecto gasped. For one instant, her dumpy figure was outlined in red. Then she crumpled into the dirty snow of the alleyway, her wand dropping from her hand.

Nott and Greengrass looked at each other, then pointed their wands at the sixth year Slytherins. "Stupefy!" they shouted in unison.

Ginny barely had time to assimilate this when invisible hands seized her from behind, an arm going around her waist and strong fingers closing around hers where they gripped the sword. She shouted and tried to kick her captor’s shin, but he dodged the kick and turned in place, and the darkness of Apparition closed down around them both.

I wanted to get away from Hogwarts, but not like this.

She braced herself, tightening her grip on the sword. No matter who this was or what they thought they were kidnapping her for, she wasn’t going cheaply.

And if they try to use me to influence Harry, I’ll spit in their eyes. At the least.

A forest clearing snapped into being around them. Ginny shoved herself free and spun, swinging the sword around at—

Nothing.

Which swore in a familiar voice as a human-sized depression appeared on the snow at her feet. Ginny jumped back, bringing the sword to bear again. "Stay away from me," she warned, her temper rising higher than ever. How dare you, whoever you are, how dare you sound like that—

"If you say so," said the voice, and the air over the depression rippled, revealing a weary-looking Harry Potter, shoving himself upright with his Invisibility Cloak over his arm. "Watch where you’re pointing that, will you? It’s full of basilisk venom and we haven’t got a phoenix around this time."

"This time?" Ginny scoffed aloud. "I don’t know who you are, but stop pretending you were there. I’m not fooled."

Harry sighed. "I wasn’t hoping for kisses and flowers, but a ‘hello, Harry, how are you’ wouldn’t have gone wrong," he said. "Dating opportunities really have been thin on the ground out here." The small, tender smile Ginny had noticed he only used for her appeared on his face. "I hope that’s enough of a silver lining for you."

The point of the sword fell into the snow as Ginny leapt forward, throwing her left arm around Harry’s neck and pulling his face down to her own. His arms wrapped around her, his lips found hers, and for a few breathless moments the world was perfect. Tears tried to form in Ginny’s eyes, but she willed them away sternly. Harry hated girls who cried all the time.

Though after the day I’ve had, I might be entitled...

"I’ve missed you," she whispered when she could speak again.

"So have I." Harry stroked a strand of hair out of her face. "You, I mean, not me. I don’t miss me."

"It’d be a good trick if you did."

"Yeah, it would." Harry’s smile seemed to chase a few of the ghosts from his eyes, making him look his proper age for the first time. "So, who do I have to kill? Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, or all three?"

"How did you know about that?"

"I had the Map going. It’s the reason we were here, to give it to Neville. Luna’s letter said he’d need it."

Ginny nodded. "He’s been trying to keep the DA going, but he doesn’t dare use the Room of Requirement too often and the Carrows have worked out that he’s the one to watch. With the Map, he’ll be able to see them coming."

"Good. But you never answered my question." Harry hoisted Ginny off her feet playfully, making her squeak. "Who am I hanging upside down by his bollocks from the Astronomy Tower?"

Before Ginny could answer, a loud crack sounded and Theodore Nott materialized beside them. Ginny started to bring the sword up, but Harry’s hand closed around hers as he set her down. "It’s all right," he said. "It’s not Nott."

"Had that stutter long?" Nott inquired, brushing snow off the shoulder of his cloak. "Hullo, Ginny, Luna’s dad get there all right? Mum and Dad like the note I sent with him?"

Ginny relaxed, realizing who this must be. "Mum cried for an hour," she said. "Dad laughed all day. And you’d better get out of those clothes before your potion wears off or you’re going to get stuck in them."

"Yeah, I know." Ron pulled off the Slytherin-crested cloak and dropped it, kicking it to one side. "Sorry I’ve been so long, Harry. I forgot where we set up and I’ve been trying all over. Finally thought to use the Deluminator. Say, where’s Hermione?"

Ginny felt Harry stiffen. "We thought she was with you," he said.

"She was—I saw her getting ready to Apparate—" Ron’s eyes went wide, a less impressive sight than usual on Nott’s skinny face. "You don’t think she got caught, do you?"

"She’d better not have." Harry made the declaration in a flat voice which was more frightening than any shout could have been. "I’ll take the Cloak and start looking. You get another dose of Polyjuice and some for Ginny, grab another Slytherin girl for her, but make it fast, we only have about twenty minutes before Hermione’s potion wears off and they find out who she is—"

A second crack cut Harry off in mid-word, as Daphne Greengrass appeared. "Here I am," she panted, running to Ron and throwing her arms around him. "It’s all right, it’s me, I just got delayed."

"Prove it," Harry said.

"You’ve got a scar on your chest from the locket Horcrux and one on your arm where Nagini bit you Christmas Eve and Ron and I figured out how to do this while we were waiting for you to wake up," recited Hermione in rapid succession, before turning to Ron and demonstrating "this."

Ginny leaned up towards Harry’s ear. "Even knowing who they are," she whispered, "that’s still incredibly disturbing."

"Yeah, it is." Harry freed one hand and whistled between his fingers. "Can you wait a few minutes for that?" he suggested when Ron and Hermione looked up. "We should pack up the tent and get out of here. They’re going to be searching all around the village pretty soon, if they’re not already."

"Good idea," said Ron, disengaging. "Give this stuff a chance to wear off. Not that you aren’t beautiful no matter what," he added to Hermione, "but I prefer your real face."

Hermione’s cheeks went pink, and she smacked him in the back of the head. "It’s been nice being able to do that without straining my arm," she said, drawing her wand. "Now, let me think... Finite Incantos Protectionem!"

The patch of empty air where Hermione’s wand was pointing turned into the tent Ginny remembered from the Quidditch World Cup. Ron pulled out his own wand and began removing tent pegs with it, while Hermione took the beaded bag she’d carried at Bill and Fleur’s wedding from her pocket and opened it.

"Shouldn’t you be helping?" Ginny asked Harry curiously.

"I can’t." Harry reached into his robes and pulled out his mokeskin pouch. From it he produced the old Snitch Dumbledore had left him, a sheet of yellowed parchment, a fragment of glass, and—

"Oh no," Ginny breathed, reaching out to touch the two halves of Harry’s holly wand, connected by the thinnest imaginable thread of phoenix feather. "What happened?"

"The whole story’d better wait until we’re settled somewhere else, but I can give you the highlights." Harry slid his possessions back into their pouch and returned it to its place. "Christmas Eve, You-Know-Who’s snake, and Ron saving my life."

"By breaking your wand."

"By cutting the head off the damn snake," Harry retorted. "The wand was an accident."

Ginny nodded absently. Her attention had been caught by something else. "Christmas Eve, was it? Is this that ‘close call’ Ron wrote us about?"

"Well, that was part of it—"

"Part of it?"

"Fight later," said Ron, putting a hand on Harry’s and Ginny’s shoulders and propelling them each a step backward. "Ready when you are, Harry." Behind him, Hermione tucked the beaded bag back into her pocket. The tent had vanished.

"Right." Harry shook out the Cloak and held it up. "Here, Ginny, come on under. I’ll take you Side-Along."

Ginny ducked under the Cloak, holding the sword against her chest, her heart singing. They aren’t sending me away... they haven’t said a word about "you’re too young" or "we should take you home"...

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked. "Back to the Burrow?"

I spoke too soon. Ginny’s good mood evaporated. I know that’s where I ought to go, but I’ve never wanted anything less—

Except maybe Zabini, but that’s beside the point.

"Not yet," said Harry, joining Ginny under the Cloak. "That’s the first place they’ll look, after they get done in Hogsmeade. Besides, we need to talk." He glanced down at Ginny, making eye contact brief enough to be unreadable. "There’s a lot we still don’t know."

That makes two of us, Potter. Ginny clamped her free hand around Harry’s wrist as he gave Ron and Hermione their Apparition coordinates. And I’m not letting you get away with "it’s a secret" this time.

I want to know everything.


Harry kept sneaking looks at Ginny as they packed snow into the teakettle together. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until she arrived.

But she needs to go home. She can’t stay with us. It’s too dangerous for her out here. Besides, she’s under the Trace until August. We can’t afford to have someone along who can’t do magic. They’re a liability.

So what does that make you then, O Wandless One? asked a traitorous voice from the back of his mind.

That’s not the same. I can do magic, just...

Not without borrowing Ron’s or Hermione’s wand, the voice finished for him. Which means, if the three of you were to get attacked, only two of you could fight at a time. How is that different from having Ginny here?

It just is, Harry argued. She’ll stay long enough to tell us what’s happening at Hogwarts, and we’ll find some way to explain why we need the sword. And then we’ll take her home. She’ll be safe there.

As safe as she was at Hogwarts? the voice asked slyly.

"Done," Ginny said, dusting off her hands. "Harry, are you all right?"

"Yeah." Harry wiped his forehead with his snowy hand, trying to cool the ache in his scar. "Still busy being happy to see you."

Ginny smiled. "I wouldn’t mind if you showed me how happy you were again..."

Five minutes later, they returned to the tent, where Ginny politely towed the once-more-brown-haired Hermione away from the stove and turned the remains of last night’s dinner into a lunch the likes of which Harry had only experienced at Hogwarts or the Burrow. "I knew none of you cooked, but this is ridiculous," she said at the table. "What have you been eating? Tinned spaghetti and scrambled eggs this whole time?"  

Harry and Ron, back to his usual red hair and freckles, glanced guiltily at each other. "More or less," Harry admitted.

"Typical."

"If I’d known we were going to rough it, I’m sure I would have asked your mum for some cooking lessons," Hermione said, her lips twitching. "Or maybe Ron could have. I’d half-expected that he’d have paid attention to how it was done, since he likes the end product so much."

"Pay attention?" Ginny looked her brother up and down. "Are we talking about the same Ron I know?"  

Ron growled and took a swipe at Ginny. She ducked, laughing. "So who starts?" she asked, sitting back up. "You or me?"

"You," said Harry, taking a sip of his tea. "You’re the only one who knows your story, so we should get it over with before we all start talking at once trying to tell you what we’ve been doing."

"All right." Ginny sat back in her chair. "The summer was actually pretty quiet for us after you left..."

Harry listened to the story of a term and a bit at Hogwarts and the tense Christmas holiday in between, filling in the blanks Ginny left with what Neville had told him and his own imagination. Hermione looked intensely interested at the tale of the creature which had joined Ginny, Neville, and Luna for their detention in the Forest with Hagrid, but the expression vanished in laughter when Ginny got to the farting Slytherins. Finally came the story of that day, how Ginny had escaped from Zabini’s nefarious plans, and Ron had to be thumped on the back after watching her reenact Crabbe and Goyle’s declarations of love.

"I hope there’s no way to reverse the stuff," he said when he’d got his breath back. "Or the antidote takes a year to make. You’re a genius, Ginny. I only wish I could’ve been there."

Ginny took a bow from her chair. "Now it’s your turn," she said, looking at Harry. "And I want the whole story. No more things you can’t tell me."

Harry swallowed. "Ginny..."

"Dad and Mum have their plan all ready," Ginny continued, her eyes unmoving from Harry’s. "They’ll go to Auntie Muriel’s and set up a Fidelius Charm there, with Dad as the Secret-Keeper. Fred and George will probably come along, if only to have a safe place to run their mail-order business, and Lee will set up Potterwatch in the back bedroom. Is there anyone on that list you think would go over to the Death Eaters?"

"No, but..."

"But nothing, Harry. There’s such a thing as being too secret." Ginny waved a hand at the sword of Gryffindor, resting in one of the tent’s old armchairs. "The sword came to me this time. That means I have to be part of this too. So I’d like to find out exactly what it is I’m part of."

Harry looked at Hermione, who nodded uncertainly, then at Ron, who was shaking his head with worried eyes, then back at Ginny. "I don’t want you to get hurt," he said. "There are people who’d kill you to keep this information from getting out."

"At this point, there are people who want to kill me just for being who I am," Ginny countered. "Or for fighting back, or for making them look like fools." She shut her eyes for a moment, looking tired, then continued. "It’s too late for you to protect me, Harry. My life’s on the line just like yours and Ron’s and Hermione’s are. I think I deserve to know why." Her eyes reopened and refocused on Harry. "Tell me everything."

Harry opened his mouth to say no, then closed it.

She’s been fighting worse enemies than we have, every day of these past four months. Maybe we were cold or hungry sometimes, but she never knew when she was going to be attacked next, or by whom. Sometimes she did things even when she knew they’d get her punished. And she tried to get the sword for us even when she didn’t know why we needed it, or how she’d get it to us.

She’s been as much a part of this war as we have.

He sat up straight and started to tell her everything.

Everything took a surprisingly short amount of time to tell. Ginny seemed unsurprised to hear that the diary which had possessed her in her first year had held a part of Voldemort’s soul, and got up to caress the pommel of the sword when Harry explained why they needed it now. "So Luna sent you the cup?" she asked, her fingers still trailing across the red stones set into the sword’s hilt. "Can I see it?"

"Right over here," said Harry, shoving back his chair and getting up. "We keep it in plain sight to be sure no one’s sneaking off for a little lovefest with it."

Ron puckered his lips and made kissing noises, sending Hermione and Ginny into giggles as they all gathered around the low table which held Helga Hufflepuff’s cup. Ginny had the sword in her right hand again, the point trailing along the carpet as she knelt before the table.

"So this is a Horcrux," she said, her voice dreamy. "I wonder..."

"No!" Harry shouted, but he was too late. Ginny’s left hand was already stroking the rim of the cup.

"Well, well," said a familiar hissing voice. "What a pleasant surprise."

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Author Notes:

I think this is the point where we all say "Uh-oh." Say it in a review and I’ll see if I can finish the next chapter by tomorrow!