Hope

What if the Flaw in the Plan had been Dumbledore's? DH, if there had been a mistake in the calculations.

Chapter 1

The war left behind devastation of such a magnitude that the survivors of Hogwarts were desperately hoping that they were having a nightmare. The harsh and frighteningly true reality was that they were not, and even more horrid than that, it wasn't over.

It seemed that horror like this shouldn't even be allowed to exist. Surely the very land itself would not be able to withstand it. Surely it was threatening to rebel, to simply disappear so as not to have to witness this. So many could already feel the Earth practically disintegrating beneath their feet.

It had been easier when the actually fighting was taking place, for them to believe that maybe, just maybe they were actually winning. But with the casualties so stark and bright before their eyes, the sense of hopelessness that so often comes with fear, was taunting them and holding them as prisoners to the grief.

They weren't going to win.

It was like a mantra floating through the air, from person to person, as a single all knowing and all known thought, so that they were as one in their despair. Even if they had any strength left, they wouldn't be able to shake it, not with so much destruction surrounding them. Even though they knew there were people still missing, things to be done, there were very few who were able to bring themselves to do it.

There were packs of mourners spread across the room, some huddled together as though physical contact could mend their souls. Many people were crying, or else shaking with silent sobs. There were really only a handful of people who were actually still trying to hold themselves together, so as to help the injured and try their hardest to comfort the rest.

One family stuck out the most, not because of their size or because of their noticeable features, but because of the tremors that tolled off of them and seemed to catch in the thick air. The Weasley family had not been the only one to suffer loses, but their grief was their own, and therefore hurt the most.

So much time had been set aside, preparing for this moment, for the trying time when they'd finally get to fight! Actually attack; though it seemed more like they were defending. Now the time had come, and how they wished it hadn't. No one ever said that the road to freedom is easy, but was it really necessary for so much destruction in order to attain peace?
Ginny Weasley had never seen her mother so distraught. She had seen her cry of course, many times. She was the mother of the Order really, the one who so often had to stay home and pray for her family and friends, hoping they'd return safely. Yes, Ginny had seen her mother cry, but never like this.
The tears she shed now were not for fear, no, the fear had already consumed them. The tears were for mourning. The mourning of –

Ginny drew in a shuddering breath to try and steady herself. The tears were still wet upon her cheeks. They were foreign to her. She, unlike her mother, wasn't one to wear her heart on her sleeve, to parade her emotions like a flag to the world. She had always been like that; she'd grown up with all brothers after all.

Oh, her brothers.

"Fred, Fred," her mother was sobbing and Ginny couldn't stand it.

No, it couldn't be possible. It just couldn't be. This couldn't be happening, not to them. She had heard stories of the tragedies of the First War, had caught snippets of the news about the casualties of this war, but they were just unknown names. They were faces that she couldn't and wouldn't ever be able to meet. It was so far from her, she'd never truly be able to understand.

But this, this wasn't just another battle, off in another part of the country, the world. It wasn't something she could just put away in her mind, as something that had happened, but hadn't really meant anything to her. It was her family now, her friends.

Hermione's arms were still around her shoulders, and she could feel her shaking. Sweet Hermione, Ginny knew just how much she cared about them, like her own family. Well in a sense, they kind of were. They were as close as you could get to it.

Her family. Would they ever be the same again? No, that was impossible. There was no way they'd ever be able to be whole again. Not with Fred –

And what of George? What was he going to do?

A choked sob escaped from Ginny's lips. She had not looked at her brother since he came into the Hall, bearing his twin in his arms. Oh, the look on his face. It had been the look of someone being tortured to insanity. Ginny could not lift her head to look at him. Her eyes were glued shut, her arms hanging over her head like a child. If you can't see it, it doesn't exist.

But it did exist. That was Ron beside her, his ragged breath blowing on her neck. And that was her dad's hand stroking her hair. It couldn't not exist.

No, no, no, no, no….

And suddenly she couldn't take it any more. She wouldn't take it anymore.

With one violent movement, she pushed off all the hands that were holding her, and stood up. She regretted it almost immediately after.

The first thing she saw was Lupin's pale face.

She was having trouble breathing. Where had all the air in the room gone? With the dead that now haunted her eyes? It felt that way.

She didn't think she could stay there another minute. Hermione was the only one to notice her moving away.

"Where are you going?" she asked in a strangled voice. Her eyes were red.

"I want to help," was all that Ginny replied, and without another look at any of them, she scrambled off out of the Great Hall, out of the front doors, and onto the lawn.

She didn't want to help though. She wanted to escape. She wanted to get away, run as far as she could from this terrible nightmare and never, ever return.

She wanted it all to stop.

Again she was crying. How many times had she cried tonight? More than she could count. This war was breaking her.

She was stumbling blindly across the lawn now, not exactly sure what it was that she was looking for, but sure that she'd know once she found it. It was so quiet out here. Too quiet. Suddenly she wanted noise, anything to drown out the sudden sounds she was hearing in her head.

Those sobs, she was so tired of them. She couldn't hear it anymore. Why wouldn't they all shut up? Why wouldn't they all stop crying?

But she was the one who was crying. It was her tears splashing against her hands, falling onto the grass she was clutching with her fingers.

But when had she fallen to the ground?

Fred….

No, no, no!

She saw his face in her mind. He was so pale, so still. No.

Help, help, she begged to anyone, someone, someone please help!

But no one was coming to save her; no one was there to rescue her from all this agony. They all needed rescuing themselves.

That's when she heard the soft voice murmuring.

She was suddenly on her feet, running towards the sound as though it was a saving line. She fell to her knees when she saw the girl. She was a sixth year like herself, from Hufflepuff. But for the life of Ginny, she couldn't remember the girl's name. She wished she could.

"Are you alright?" she asked. It was a stupid question of course. The girl seemed to have been cut by something, the whole right side of her face was covered in blood and she was whimpering softly.

She shook her head at Ginny's question.

"Okay, let me help you. Come one, let me get you inside."

The girl was crying. "I don't want to. I don't want to fight."

Ginny wasn't really listening. All she could thing was I don't want to fight either. "It's alright," she attempted to console the girl, or maybe just herself. "It's ok, we're going to get you inside."

"But I want to go home, I don't want to fight anymore." Her voice was so soft, her eyes full of painful tears. Ginny was suddenly desperate. Was she hurt somewhere else too?

"I know, it's going to be alright."

Ginny reached out to take her hand, and it was then that it happened. The most strange sensation, as though there was someone standing right behind her, watching her.

She turned around sharply, her hand already on her wand, but there was no one there. Only the endless grass, scattered with things she didn't want to think about.

But she didn't look away yet. It was still there, that feeling of someone so close to her that if she just reached out she'd certainly touch them.

Then her eye caught the blades of grass just inches from her. The ground seemed to flatten itself out on its own. Like a hairbreadth of wind had compressed it. Or like a foot that wasn't really there had stepped over the lawn. Had stepped over it, walking away from her, towards the forest. Towards….

She has a sudden unnerving and unshakable urge to get back to the castle. With all the strength she had she lifted the girl from the ground. "Can you walk?" she asked her, relived when the girl nodded.

Together they trudged back to the castle steps, and through the door. It wasn't until she walked back Great Hall that she realized what it was that she needed. The moment she looked around she realized what was missing.

She gave the girl over quickly to Madame Pomfrey, who looked, though upset that there was another injured, relived that it wasn't worse. Ginny was then running over to her brother.

How could she have possibly forgotten? Sure she was shaken, sure she had just lost one of her brothers, but wasn't he family too? Surely he was more, worth more to her that he should have been one of the first people in her mind. Hadn't she been thinking about him all during the fighting? How could she possibly have not once questioned his absence?

"Ron," she panted, coming to a stop in front of him and Hermione.

They both looked up, seemingly shocked at the sudden anxiety.

"Ron, Hermione, have you seen Harry?"

There was a hot feeling in the pit of her stomach now, a feeling more than worry. Something like guilt. How had she not noticed him missing until now? How had she not even once thought about him since the fighting stopped? She had assumed he would be with them, but now that she thought about it, she hadn't seen him with them at all.

"We were just going to ask you the same thing," Ron answered. There was a terrifying look in his eyes, a look of panic that Ginny did not like to see. She was having trouble breathing again.

If no one had seen him….

"You mean you have no idea where he is?" she demanded desperately.

The looks on Ron and Hermione's faces answered her question for her.

"Well he couldn't have just disappeared," she snapped, as though they had suggested it. "He has to be somewhere around here."

But as she looked around the room again, the feeling returned. But it was stronger this time. That phantom ghost out on the lawn. No, no, no, no.

"Ginny," It was Hermione and Ginny snapped her attention back to her immediately. But her words weren't the comforting ones she had hoped for. "I'm sure he's just helping…."

"Oh, you're sure are you?"

Hermione's eyes were filling with tears again. She was biting her lip so hard it had started to bleed. For once she looked unable to say anything.

"He needs to be here," Ginny said again. He just had to! She would not let the thought she had been thinking since she'd been out on the lawn, blossom into anything more than a baseless worry.

Again Ron and Hermione looked at each other with anxious eyes.

"I'd better go and find him."

For some reason she was angry at the two of them. Why weren't they doing anything? Didn't they realize that their best friend was missing amongst a war, amongst enemies who wanted nothing more than to cause him harm?

But before she could stalk off, another person joined them. In fact, Ginny nearly bumped into him. "Oh, I'm sorry Neville."

But he didn't even pay her any attention. His eyes were only for Ron and Hermione. "Hey, listen, I just saw Harry and he - "

"You saw Harry?" Ginny turned on him, her voice demanding. "When? Where?"

"Just a few minutes ago, he was out on the lawn."

It seemed as though something was wrecking havoc in Ginny's stomach.

"What was he doing?" The question came out as a whisper.

"He said he had some business to do." Neville addressed the next part to Ron and Hermione, who seemed to not be breathing for worry. "He said that if you were busy, and I had the opportunity, I should kill You-Know-Who's snake."

For one moment Ginny was sure that the world had come to a pause. Both Ron and Hermione were staring at Neville as though they couldn't comprehend what it was that he was saying. And then Hermione let out a gasp that was so quiet Ginny saw it, rather than heard it.

"No." She turned to Ron as though he was going to give her something to take away her horror. He didn't do anything but stare right on back, his mouth open in shock and his face white.

"He wouldn't," Hermione whispered. "He wouldn't."

Again what Ginny had encountered outside ran through her head. Hermione's reaction played out in her mind, in front of her, and she knew. She looked Hermione right in the eyes as she said the words that she dreaded to say, while knowing with all her heart that she was right, "He would."

From a place that none of them could identify a voice called out, menacing and terrifying, ricocheting of the walls so that everyone heard it, "Harry Potter is dead."

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