And it was with a buzzing that she woke, a bumblebee bouncing around in her head. Ginny sat slowly, one hand reaching up to clutch at her skull in a pained daze. The world blurred before her eyes and she blinked hard until it cleared, confusion reigning in her mind.

A figure stood before her, and she squinted hard at it until it melted into the familiar shape of one Harry Potter. He was facing away from her, muttering and tapping his wand on something. A bright orange light briefly lit him up from behind, and then he straightened and turned, putting his wand back into his pocket as he did so.

He was wearing odd clothes – blue pants and a dark short-sleeved shirt, with no robes in sight. His left cheek was very red. Ginny felt… fuzzy.

"Harry?" she whispered, regretting it even as she did so – her voice came out cracked and feeble, her throat aching.

"Oh, Ginny, you're awake." Harry smiled, and walked over to crouch next to her. With one hand he proffered a water bottle. "Here, for your throat."

A brief thought of how did he know flickered through Ginny's head, but she dismissed it in favor of swallowing down half the bottle in one gulp. Gasping, she turned inquisitive eyes on her friend.

"I'm glad you're okay, Ginny," Harry said. He put both hands on her shoulders and leaned in close. "You sure hit your head hard when you fell."

"I… fell?" That would fit with her head swimming so much. And how she couldn't really remember anything for a while. Not since… actually, lots was rather hazy. Ginny remembered red, and running, and yelling, maybe? It was so painful to try – like someone had wrapped thorny vines around her memories, and every time she reached out, they would wrap around her head and squeeze.

"Yeah," Harry said, and Ginny opened her eyes. She hadn't realized they'd closed until he began to speak. "You were running up the stairs and you tripped and hit your head, remember?"

His eyes were very large and very green, and Ginny nodded slowly. Things were sliding into place.

And you were running because you had to get away from H… No, that's wrong. Because you had to move fast, there was a time limit for the spell. Because he told you to get inside fast before they came for you, and you have to stay hidden, you can't let anyone find you…

Something felt sort of – wrong. But Ginny wasn't sure what. Her face creased up as she struggled to sort everything out, something still crying out that this wasn't right.

But what about the yelling?

Harry's hands tightened on her shoulders.

There was no yelling.

Ginny grit her teeth, pain building up. She didn't understand it, and whimpered, because it hurt –

I remember yelling!

There was no yelling.

Harry shook her once, hard. Her head snapped back and then forward, and he let go of her left shoulder to grab her hands, which were already moving. Instinctively, Ginny was trying to hit him, but Harry caught her wrists easily, almost as though he was practiced at it. But how could he be?

And how did he have water ready?

And was there yelling or not?

"Ginny!" Harry snapped, and she jumped in his arms, eyes meeting his. "Trust me. You fell. That was all. Trust me."

Just trust me…

I don't trust anybody, least of all you.

Harry's eyes bored into hers. They were very large and very green. "Trust me," he said, "Nothing happened. Remember? Nothing."

Nothing?

Something screeched in her head, horrified, but the rest of the words were lost as though whatever-it-was was sinking deep into a pool of water.

Right. Nothing.

Nothing.

Remember? Nothing. Remember, nothing. Remember nothing; remember…

Ginny gasped as everything snapped into place, and let her head drop onto Harry's shoulder. No – on second thought that wasn't enough, and she wormed her way into a hug, squeezing him tight, breathing fast.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I'm so sorry, I should never have left when I knew…"

Harry exhaled slowly and hugged her back tightly, one hand reaching up to pet her hair. "It's okay, Ginny," he murmured. "It was close, but we made it. We're fine. It's okay."

Ginny shook and cried and did not answer for a long time.

-xxx-

It was sort of funny, and sort of hideous. The thing that broke the spell. Her brothers, her parents – the person on the TV didn't actually hold any real resemblance to any of them, not really. But he had bright red hair, and the show itself was boring enough that Ginny stopped paying attention to it, in favor of drifting off… wondering.

She really wished she could contact her family. Just one sneaky owl, just to let them know she was okay. She knew that, given the situation, there was no way she could expect Harry to let her – and all things considered, that was the right decision. They simply couldn't risk being found.

Still, Ginny couldn't help but wonder. How were they? She hadn't seen any of them in so long, and they didn't even know if she was…

And there it was.

They didn't even know if she was alive or dead. Why? They had lost her. She shouldn't be alive. Harry –

Harry had lied. To them. To her – he had taken her, she didn't know where she was or – or anything, anymore, but she was remembering. She'd broken it wondering –

Her family. Oh God, her family. She didn't even know if they were alive or dead. She hadn't really thought to ask, it was… sickening.

She felt like she might be sick. No, she would, she – it was all wrong and she tried to tamp it down, but she was still confused and she felt so ill.

When she emerged from the tiny bathroom, Harry was there. Ginny tried to act normal, she really did, but she couldn't contain her initial flinch at seeing him, and he caught it. Of course he did. He had once wanted to be an Auror, and then the war had truly taken hold and everyone had been thrown into the field, and those who weren't very observant and highly paranoid were dead already. Had been dead for a while.

"Ginny," he said slowly, and like a whale rising from the depths, a memory flashed, slippery and sickly-white in her mind.

"Ginny," He grinned, caressing her name, long, thin fingers stroking her cheek, "how sweet of you; and I never even asked."

All decorum lost, Ginny's fingers leapt for her wand – but she had no robes, no wand-pocket, no wand at all, it had – snapped, Harry tossed the pieces aside, years of memories rolling across the floor, and he grabbed her wrist and tugged her, "Come on!"

She felt dizzy. "Harry," she said. "You – "

"…Just drink this," he was saying, and she was screaming no no no I don't want to! but she couldn't, his voice was everywhere, echoing, "drink it, drink it"…

Her face hardened. "Harry, how – how could you?" And then she was yelling, advancing toward him, screeching, "You utter imbecile, you horror, you bastard, how could you! You – idiot, Harry, I hate you so much, I hate you –"

He looked hurt. Really hurt. Like he would cry, or something.

And he said, "Ginny, please don't – Ginny. Ginny, I love you."

She stopped, barely two footsteps away from him. She – everything was shaking. "You," she said in a low whisper. "Do you even know what you've done?"

Harry's face crumpled, helpless, but he knew. "Ginny," he pleaded, "I can't, I can't lose you. I love you, Ginny, please."

Ginny slapped him.

"You selfish little child," she said. "How could you ever consider this right?"

"I… I don't," His head hung like a schoolboy's, ashamed.

Ginny stared at him for long moments, tears welling up in her eyes.

He clenched one hand in a fist, reached out slowly with the other, to her.

He lifted his head, just slightly. His eyes were green. And shimmering; flashing.

Ginny leapt back, any trace of pity vanishing in an instant. She had to remember, her family. "I have to do it," she said. "You know I do – you've known."

His head snapped the rest of the way up, wild black hair tossing briefly, eyes bright: "No."

And – his hand swung up, Ginny dodged but she wasn't ready, something grazed her side, sunk in. It was warm, melting through her, and her muscles slowly relaxed against her will. He was over her, eyes crazed, and he muttered to himself so quietly she almost couldn't hear, "What was it this time? It can't have been fully, or you wouldn't have bothered fighting with me first."

Her tongue was growing thick, her eyelids lowering, memories diving back down. She tried to force herself, will herself. "My family," she thought – spoke, God, sobbed, "my family."

His voice was far away, but still it echoed through her: an interested "Oh? Have to fix that, I suppose…"

No, no, not them too, she couldn't say, couldn't move, couldn't think anymore, everything was grey and fading –

She felt sick.

"I love you," she might have heard.

This chapter was betaed by rowan_greenleaf. Much thanks to her!