Ginny
Darkness was beginning to fall on the streets outside, frost settling like glitter on the dark streets, street lights casting a flourescent orange glow over everything and everyone it fell upon. The streets were deserted, save for the few people that ambled along to their homes. The playful cheers and yells of children had long since died out and left the streets in silence as obliterating as the darkness. Inside Grimmauld Place, however, the candles glowed merrily and the fire roared cheerfully, which was an interesting contrast to the mood of the inhabitants. There hadn't been one word from Harry or Ron ever since they had sent a letter to the house explaining the situation. Hermione sat quietly on the sofa, emersed in a book, the Dursleys all sat having a small, hushed conversation between themselves and Ginny stared into the depths of the glowing fire, pensievely.
"Oh, cheer up, Ginny," Hermione sighed, looking up from her apparently captivating book. "They've faced much worse-" just as she spoke a loud crack! sounded from the hall and Harry, Ron and Malfoy walked in the room.
Harry was the one who explained the situation, "look, we have to try and find Mrs Figg, so we probably wont be returning tonight and-wait, Ginny, what are you doing?"
Ginny had gotten to her feet in the middle of Harry's explanation, "I'm going with you."
Harry looked startled, "you can't go, you're pregnant!"
Ginny retorted, "you can't go, I'm pregnant!"
(A/N Get the referance?)
Harry sighed, "no, you have to stay here, love. Please, for me?"
Ginny was fuming, how could she let him go? He might never return! But he had faced much worse and nothing could be worse than Voldemort, right? Those were the thoughts Ginny used to console herself as she kissed Harry, hugged Ron and Malfoy and kissed Harry once more, wishing them a safe adventure. She collapsed in a chair and wondered how the Dursley's could be so careless about all this; their only nephew was going on a dangerous mission from which he may never return. Idiots.
"Ginny, is James in bed?" Hermione asked tentatively from the other side of the room.
"Yeah, I put him down an hour ago."
Hermione smiled sadly and returned to her book, Ginny resumed staring into the dying fire. The plan was risky but neccessary, it might mess things up but could help immensly. If Harry and Ron were trying to find Mrs Figg, surely Ginny could find her, if Hermione helped her. Yes, yes, that was what she would do, it could work! Maybe...most likely not...but she had to try. Decidedly, she leapt to her feet and stole the book from the hands of the bushy haired girl, Hermione yelped in protest as Ginny pulled her to her feet and through to the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" Hermione cried.
"Listen, Hermione," Ginny said urgently, "we need to help find Mrs Figg, it's far too dangerous to let the boys do it alone!" She began to formulate a plan in her head, a plan that was completely foolproof, the glint her her eyes must have shown because Hermione gasped.
"Ginny, no," she warned, "I can see that look in your eye, we can't interfere with the plan."
Ginny corrected her, "not interfere, we will help."
Hermione shook her head, "I'm not going to win this, am I?"
Ginny smiled, "nope!" She grabbed the older girl by the wrist, "lets go!" And they turned on the spot, vanishing into darkness.
Harry
An old cottage sat on the top of a large, mossy hill. The roof was falling in and weeds climbed up the battered, weather beaten walls. The cottage emitted a sinister air, which was no surprise due to the fact everyone knew the story came with it:
