Author's Note: Let me first start out by saying that I am EXTREMELY impressed with all of you. As of right now, I have 48 reads, 6 comments, and 2 votes. That makes me really happy that people are taking notice. Thank you all so much! Keep it up, guys! This chapter is dedicated to TrinityTech24, my first fan. You are awesome, thank you so much for becoming my fan!
Chapter 3: Lost and Found
For the longest time, I just stood there, staring at the place where my family had disappeared. This could not be happening. Things like this just don't happen, even to wizards. This must all just be a nightmare. There was no way that I could have actually found a real Time Turner. Those were supposed to have been destroyed almost 30 years ago. Maybe if I closed my eyes and pinched myself really hard, then I'd be able to wake up from this horrible dream. I squeezed my eyes shut as hard as I could and gave myself a good, hard pinch to the arm. I was so focused on waking myself up that I didn't feel Athena leave my shoulder, and I certainly didn't hear the very faint sound of leaves crunching as someone - or something - drew ever nearer. Until I felt the cold, hard tip of a wand pressed against the middle of my back.
"Don't move a muscle," growled a voice; it was low and threatening, but there was also just the faintest quiver of fear in it. I gulped and slowly opened my eyes; I was frozen in terror, unable to move even if I wanted to. "Turn around slowly," the voice commanded, and I obeyed. I really didn't have a choice; it was either that or be blown to bits. I turned to face my captor, and I was finally able to see that it was . . . Uncle Ron???
Now I was almost positive that I was dreaming, or maybe going mad. Uncle Ron was with supposed to be with his family, and yet here he was, right in front of me. What was even stranger was that he seemed to be years younger, or maybe it was my imagination acting up again; heaven knows it wouldn't be the first time. His bright red hair was plastered to his forehead and he was covered in scrapes and bruises. Apparently, he wasn't expecting to see me either, because we both stared at each other for a few moments.
"GINNY?? What are you doing here? I thought you were back at the castle!"
I turned, expecting to see Mum standing directly behind me, but we were utterly alone. I turned back to Uncle Ron, confused. Who had he been talking to? There was no one here but us. And then it dawned on me. No, he couldn't possibly think that. Surely he wouldn't be that stupid . . .
He grasped my wrist roughly and started dragging me in the direction of the castle. "Come on, we've got to get you back! Mum'll murder me if anything happens to you! She's probably beside herself as it is."
I struggled against his grip, but it was no use. He was strong, and he wasn't about to let go anytime soon. "Wait! Wait - stop - you don't understand -"
"Merlin's beard, Ginny, would you stop squirming? Don't make this more difficult than it already is -"
"I'M NOT GINNY!"
He finally stopped at my loud exclamation. He turned back to face me, never once letting go of my wrist. "What are you talking about?" he asked incredulously, and he seemed incapable of believing a word I said.
"I just told you - I'm not Ginny. I'm . . . someone else." I had been close to saying I was her daughter, but I stopped myself in time. If he mistook me for my mother, Lord only knows what he would think if I told him the whole truth.
He studied me carefully and with concern, then put his hand on my forehead. "Ginny, are you feeling all right? You seem a bit out of it. Did the battle really affect you that bad?"
"I'm not sick," I insisted stubbornly, pushing his hand away. "Nor am I delusional. I already told you, I'm someone else."
From the look on his face I hadn't convinced him. Merlin, he was impossible! How had Mum stood growing up with this stubborn git? "All right, you can stop that now," he said anxiously. "You've had your fun, but enough is enough."
I couldn't take it anymore; uncle or no, I was not going to just stand here and listen to him lecture me like a five-year-old. I ripped my wrist from his grip and put my hands on my hips, just about to go into my 'I'm-all-grown-up' speech. However, I was interrupted as two more figures came crashing out of the dense forest.
Turning to face them, I was shocked to see a young Aunt Hermione dashing from the forest. Her light brown hair was falling out of a very messy braid, and she, too, was battered and bloody. "Ron? What's going on?" she asked, trying to catch her breath. "We heard you yelling at someone - Ginny? What are you doing here?" She had finally noticed me. I started to say something in my defense, but my voice faltered as I finally caught sight of the second figure. He was thin, slightly muscular, and had jet-black hair and bright green eyes behind round, wire-rimmed glasses. Terrific. I was now officially insane; why else would I be seeing my dad, exactly as I had seen him in my dream?
"What's the matter, Ron?" he asked, looking confused. "We thought we heard you - oh!" His face flushed deep red, and I resisted the urge to groan from embarrassment. "Ginny! I-I didn't think - I expected you to be -"
"She keeps insisting that she's not Ginny. That she's someone else," Uncle Ron said with a half exasperated, half worried tone. "I'm starting to worry that he battle may have driven her mad."
I stamped my foot in frustration. Why didn't anyone believe me? "I'm not mad! I've already told you the truth!"
Aunt Hermione and Dad studied me with concern. This was getting annoying! "Ginny, come on, that's enough. You need to stop now."
"Stop what? And who are you lot talking to? I'm over here."
That voice hadn't been mine. We all turned and saw my mum, Ginny Weasley - the REAL Ginny Weasley - walking toward us from the direction of the castle. Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione looked from me to Mum, then back to me. The looks on their faces were priceless; their expressions changed from confusion to worry and back again. Dad merely looked really, really embarrassed; his face kept getting redder and redder.
Mum stopped in front of us and crossed her arms, looking impatient and slightly scary. "Well? I assume you've got a brilliant explanation for this, and I'm waiting to hear it." No one answered her for a few minutes. Finally, Uncle Ron stepped forward, his face back on 'confused'.
". . . Who are you?" he asked, and I wanted to slap him. Mum's face turned as red as her hair and her hand inched towards her wand. I noticed this and backed up slowly, not wanting to be near her when she exploded. Dad and Aunt Hermione noticed this, too, and wisely followed my lead.
"'Who are you?'" she asked, her voice trembling with fury. "'Who are you?' I come out here after hundreds of people have died trying to fight the most evil Dark Wizard of all time and you can't think of anything better to say to me than 'Who are you'?"
"I had no way of knowing who the real Ginny was! What was I supposed to ask?"
"You idiot! I'm your sister, you prat! It's her you should be asking!" She pointed an accusatory finger at me, and I gulped again, my mouth suddenly dry. I had been on the receiving end of Mum's fury once, and I had absolutely no desire to repeat the experience. Aunt Hermione, Dad, Uncle Ron and Mum were all staring at me curiously like I had just grown three heads.
Aunt Hermione's eyes widened. "You don't think she could be a Death Eater, could she?" she whispered to the others.
"She can't be. You-Know-Who called them back to him a while ago, remember?" Uncle Ron whispered back.
"You never know, she could have taken Polyjuice Potion."
"Why would she?" Dad whispered bitterly, joining in. "She has no need to hide now. The battle's still going on."
"If you lot are done discussing whether I'm a Death Eater or not, maybe you could try asking me like normal human beings," I snapped loudly at them. I was sick of the accusations. I mean, I guess I could understand the confusion earlier - I did look a lot like Mum - but this was going too far. How dare they call me a Death Eater! They were supposed to have been wiped out when Voldemort had been defeated, when Dad had been 17. Wait a moment . . . if they thought I was a Death Eater, and I had come here by a Time Turner . . . no, it couldn't be. It just couldn't.
"We're sorry," said Aunt Hermione after a few moments, looking like she truly meant it. "It's just . . . with the battle and everything, we don't know who to trust."
Battle . . . oh no. If she was referring to what I thought she was, I was in serious trouble.
There was a moment of awkward silence until Dad spoke up. "What's your name?" he asked, and I could tell from his expression that he truly did not recognize me.
I had no idea what to tell him; I couldn't just come out and say that I was his daughter, after all. "Lily," I said after a moment's silence.
One of Dad's eyebrows raised upward slightly. "What, no surname?" he asked with a teasing tone, and for a moment I was tempted to tell him the truth just to see his reaction. However, I decided against it on the grounds that it would be too much for him.
"Generally, you need to know who your parents are to know your surname," I lied. I felt bad about it, but it was going to be a while before he found out the truth. His face fell as the news sunk in.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he said sympathetically. "I'm Harry, by the way."
"Hermione."
"Ron, and this is my little sister, Ginny."
Mum - or rather, Ginny - bristled at that. "I'm only a year younger than you are! That's not much of a difference!" Then she turned to me. "I apologize for anything my git of a brother has said to you."
"Hey!"
I laughed at Uncle Ron's - or Ron's - expression while Dad - Harry - intervened. "All right, you two! That's enough! We've got enough to worry about without arguing with each other." We all sobered at that. Then he turned to me. "You're lucky you managed to stay out of the fighting. So many of us got hurt and killed tonight . . ."
I could see exactly where this was going, and I really did not want to have this discussion right now. "Maybe we should head back to the castle. Unc - Ron, you mentioned something about your mother being beside herself?"
Uncle Ron's face paled at the thought, and we all started walking towards the castle together. It was eerily silent, like the calm before a storm. After a little while, I finally gathered my courage and asked a question that had been nagging at me since I'd arrived. "By the way, do any of you happen to know the date?" I tried to sound as casual as possible, but all four of them still looked at me strangely. "I haven't gotten the paper for a while, and I'm a bit behind on the times."
It was Aunt Hermione who answered my question after another pause. "We're not exactly sure of the day, but the year is 1998. We're at the Battle of Hogwarts, remember?"