A Cannon's Harpy

XIII

The Prophet lay before Lucius as he sat alone in his temporary cell; Azkaban was waiting. His body ached and both his back and chest pulsed with pain from the guard's spell, which had struck him. The force behind the blow had him wondering about the caster. The power of it eliminated most members of the Order and he briefly wondered if Dumbledore had been in the room. If it had been then he'd have to find the man to return the compliment, but that would be something else to work towards after finishing Harry.

Being captured would prove troublesome, born from a moment of weakness upon hearing about Harry's state. Lucius would not make the same mistake again. He glanced down at the paper. The moving picture of the Harpy's Seeker as she dove to catch Harry covered the front page.

"A pity the plan did not go as planned, My Lord." A gruff voice spoke from behind Lucius.

The tip of the other man's wand touched the paper and it burst into flame. The light illuminated Lucius' faint smile. "Potter's heroic rescue of this…" He glanced at the rapidly diminishing paper for the name. "Weasley might just help."

The newspaper curled upwards as it burned. The last to disappear was the face of a very determined Weasley.

"I would've preferred an unfortunate accident, My Lord." The other man sounded unimpressed.

"Let the poor girl live. Potter is who we want and he is playing right into my… our hands."

The other man coughed. "If you say so, My Lord."

Lucius ignored the comment for now. The man would be needed to get out of this predicament. "Are the plans for the Cannons in place?"

"They are, My Lord."

Lucius stood stiffly and turned to stare through the bars to the man standing outside. "Excellent."

Ginny left to go see her parents after the nurses and Healers returned the next morning to check on an already standing Harry. They deserved to see her and know that she was alright. They probably wanted to celebrate her first ever victory in professional Quidditch even though the win felt hollow.

She, however, did not go home immediately. Instead Ginny detoured to take a deliberate stroll across the Harpies pitch. The deep furrow made by her broom remained. The memory of the sudden calm and disorientation after the crash made her shiver. The minutes ticked by as she worked to overcome the fears threatening to overwhelm her. In a few days' time she would need to be up in the air again. And up there she needed to be fearless.

Satisfied that her fears would indeed be overcome, she Apparated to the Burrow. Her foot barely entered the kitchen before her mother's strong arms wrapped themselves around her. "I'm fine, mum," Ginny managed to say. The hold tightened. "Steady mum, try not to break any more ribs!"

"Sorry, dear," her mother said hurriedly while letting go. "We've been so worried. I don't think I slept at all last night."

Ginny edged further into the house. The entire Weasley family sat in the living room; brothers, sister-in-laws and Hermione. All strangely subdued. None had slept much more than her mother if haggard looks were anything to go by. They did, however, look up expectantly and oddly guiltily.

"What?" The word left Ginny's mouth slowly. Their expressions reminded her of times when something irreparable had been broken.