All is well - A Hinny fanfiction

Chapter 30

Wordcount: 3261

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The silence that followed the announcement of Harry Potter's wife's abduction was deafening. Nearly the entire courtroom laid eyes on a wide-eyed Harry, who had turned pale as a sheet. He felt as if he were falling in a weightless void, unable and unwilling to stop. Ginny, his Ginny, had been taken from him.

Under the weight of the grief that surrounded him, he found himself being pulled from the courtroom and into a windowless room. It was dark, and the thick stone walls were covered in moss that ran from the floor to the edge of the ceiling. He fell to his knees and ran his hands through his hair. How did this happen? he thought to himself. He had vowed to protect her no matter what, and the kidnappers had taken advantage of their false sense of security.

As if called upon by his own thoughts, the walls of the tiny room began to shake, slowly but steadily closing in on him. The space became smaller and the air around him was being sucked out of the room by the solid stone. He tried to get out, but there seemed to be no way out. There was no way out; he was trapped with no means, magical or otherwise, to escape the inevitable.

Right before he himself was crushed by the shrinking walls, the sound of snapping fingers brought him back to reality. He was still in the courtroom beside Abby, who was trying to get his attention back. He looked into her eyes, and his own bright green ones started glistening. He was lost. "Fuck," he whispered, his hands closing into fists.

Not even a week had passed since the dreadful news of Ginny's abduction, and Harry was looking very worse for wear. He felt like an empty husk, strolling about in someone else's life. For the past three days, Mary had tried relentlessly and unsuccessfully to get more than two words out of him, but he wouldn't budge.

Ron and Hermione paid regular visits at Potter Manor, but they couldn't get much leeway when they talked to him. He seemed empty and broken as if the mere task of entertaining people was unbearable for him. Even his breathing seemed shallow and ragged. It was many a time when they would discuss their friend among themselves, trying to figure out a way to break him out of his shell.

One day, after a rather heated argument with Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way back to Ron's apartment. They were very close to buying a house of their own, but for now, that was their temporary accommodation.

"He's in bad shape, 'Mione," said Ron as they entered the bedroom.

"I know," she exclaimed, "I don't know what to do."

"There's not much we can do except hope Harry finds her soon," Ron said, running his hands through his hair.

"How come you aren't more concerned for your sister, Ron?" she asked him incredulously.

"I am, terribly," he conceded, "but I know my sister can take care of herself quite well. Harry, on the other hand..."

"He's prone to brooding, that much is for sure." Hermione sat next to Ron and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, 'Mione," he told her, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "If anyone can find Ginny, it's Harry."

The subject of their conversation lay on his bed one afternoon after having spent the day on the field looking for signs of his wife's whereabouts. As he tried to close his eyes and get some sleep, honouring Mary's solemn request from earlier, the memory of his reaction to the tragic news swam to the edge of his awareness.

At first, he had remained silent for a long time, while onlookers drew a breath in anticipation of what he might do. Then, he had exploded. He felt awful about the way he had treated the messenger, claiming she was playing a cruel prank on him.