Tomorrow

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Off to market we go.

“Harry, Harry, are you awake?” Hermione tapped the door and listened for a response. “Harry,” she called a little louder, “Mrs Weasley has breakfast ready. You need to come downstairs.” She tried to turn the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. With a sigh, she turned away.

“He can’t go on like this, Hermione. He’s got to stop blaming himself.” Ron opened his arms and pulled Hermione into a hug. He was as worried as she was about their friend, who had become more and more withdrawn in recent weeks, following the failed attempt to remove Voldemort from this world.

Hermione rested her head on Ron’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do, Ron. I just don’t know.

Ron sighed and kissed the top of Hermione’s head. “I don’t think there’s a book around to help us this time, love. Come on, Mum has breakfast on the table.”

They made their way downstairs, not noticing Ginny watching from the cracked opening of the bedroom door. When they had passed, she opened the door all the way and led Dobby out and down to Harry’s room.

She turned to the elf and whispered, “You go inside and open the door to let me in.”

Dobby wrung his hands. “Harry Potter told Dobby he didn’t want to see anyone. Dobby has always listened to Harry Potter and done what he asked.”

Ginny planted her hands on her hips. “Now that is a lie, Dobby. I know for a fact you interfered when you thought Harry was in danger. Well, Harry is in danger now, Dobby. Why aren’t you helping him?”

Dobby pulled on his ears. “Oh my, Dobby has been a very bad elf. Harry Potter is needing my help.”

“Yes,” said Ginny, “That’s why you must open the door and let me in.”

“Yes, Dobby will open the door.” With a snap of the fingers, Dobby was gone. A moment later, the door to Harry’s room opened.

Ginny entered and looked around the dark room. “Dobby,” she whispered, “Go and get a tray of food then bring it here.”

Dobby nodded and was gone in an instant. Ginny walked to the windows and yanked open the heavy curtains to admit the murky morning light. She looked over at the bed where Harry lay curled into a ball. Taking a deep breath she approached the bed.

“Harry Potter, you are the most selfish, self-centred, immature brat of a boy I’ve ever known, and that’s saying something coming from the sister of the Weasley boys. How dare you lie abed and feel sorry for yourself like this. How do you think the rest of us feel? Don’t you have any idea how you’re hurting everyone?”

Harry squinted up at her, having been woken from sleep by her tirade. “How did you get in here? Why are you yelling at me?”

“Someone has to yell at you. Everyone else is pussyfooting around poor Harry Potter as if you were the only one who suffered from defeat. What about the others, Harry: the ones that were injured, the ones who died, Harry? What about the rest of us who survived? Don’t you think that, maybe, we want to curl up and forget the world? Well, it doesn’t matter if we do, because there is work to be done. And just because you’re the Chosen One doesn’t let you off the hook.” She walked over, grabbed his dressing gown and threw it at him.

Dobby arrived back with a tray of breakfast and ducked as the dressing gown flew over his head. He placed the tray of food on the desk in front of the window and decided to retreat to safety.

Harry caught the dressing gown and sat up. He was still stunned at Ginny’s outburst. “Ginny, I wasn’t… I mean, I let everyone down. I failed, Ginny. I’m ashamed. How can I expect anyone to want me around, let alone trust me?”

“Harry Potter, the only thing you’re doing to annoy people right now is wallowing in self pity. Now, get out of bed and have breakfast. We’re having a meeting later this morning.” She turned and opened the door to leave, but turned back. “Oh, you might want to take a bath. I’m getting a whiff of B.O. off you.” With that she closed the door and took a deep breath. She hoped she’d gotten through to him finally, and went downstairs to wait.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Caitlin made it to Hogsmeade just as the first sprinkles of a rain shower began to dampen her shoulders. The town was busy as she had expected. The stalls set up for the market in the square were now having awnings raised to protect the merchants from the shower. She took cover under one of them while she got her bearings.

At other times, Caitlin had enjoyed her day’s shopping and had always managed to save a little money to splurge on chocolate at Honeydukes and a tea at Madam Puddifoots. These days, most people did what they had to and returned home to relative safety. She could hardly blame them. Ministry Aurors and Hit Wizards seemed to have little or no effect on the Death Eater attacks. Even the Chosen One and his followers had apparently gone to ground. The future looked bleak for Wizarding society in Britain.

She wandered around the stalls picking up what she needed and could afford, leaving the trip to the apothecary till last. As she entered the shop a bell tinkled in the back room, alerting the proprietor to her presence. Caitlin stood at the counter waiting for assistance.
No one seemed to be coming. She wandered to the back of the shop, thinking to call out, but stopped when she heard voices.

“You have a nice location here, Mr Schenk, it would be a pity to see it fall to ruin because you didn’t keep your word.”

“I didn’t give my word to anybody. I never promised anything and I just can’t get the supplies that easily.”

Caitlin assumed the second voice belonged to the owner.

“Our master will be most displeased,” added a third voice. “He needs the ingredients to finish his potion.”

“He might be your master, but he’s not mine,” snapped Schenk. “Those ingredients are restricted. I can’t order them in large quantities. Agh!” It sounded to Caitlin as if the man had been hit. She started to back towards the front door.

“Two days, Schenk, two days and we’ll be back. Crucio.” Caitlin knew what that curse was and decided to get out with the going was good.

Just as she reached the front door, it was opened by a tall man in dark robes who blocked her path. At the same time, two men came from the back room and saw her trying to leave.

“She must have hard, Yaxley. We can’t let her go like this.” This man pointed his wand at her.

She felt her arm grabbed by the tall man at the front door. “What shall we do, then?” he asked, his voice suspiciously soft. “Obliviate, Avada?” The men began to laugh.

Panicked, Caitlin yanked her arm from the tall man’s grasp then brought her heel down on his instep. As he gasped in pain, he let her go. She ducked under his arm and ran away as fast as she could. She stopped in the midst of the square, taking some cover from the crowd around her. She looked around, but didn’t see the men. She decided to go home without the prescription and risk the old man’s wrath. The worst that would happen would be that she’d be locked in the attic without food for a day or so. With that decided, she headed towards the lane leading to the Prince family cottage.

Caitlin walked quickly, glancing around frequently to make sure she was alone. She was having second thoughts now, perhaps she should have gone to the Auror’s office in Hogsmeade and reported the incident -- too late now. She saw the cottage in the distance and relaxed minutely. At the same moment, a curse hit her in the back and she fell to the ground. Just before passing out she heard someone say, “That was fun. We should stalk them more often for sport. You carry her, Yaxley. You lost her, after all.”