Harry Potter and the Hall of Justice

Chapter 32 The Assault

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NOTE: A warning to the reader: Do not read this chapter if you are sensitive to strong violence, i.e. sexual assault.

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Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his desk on a late January afternoon when Professor McGonagall hastily burst into his office.

“Albus!” she exclaimed. “Ginny Weasley didn’t return from Hogsmeade this afternoon! I fear something terrible has happened!” Minerva McGonagall raised a fist to her mouth to check a fretful scream of dread welling up inside her.

The old headmaster jumped to his feet. He had sensed something was not as it should be earlier in the day. A barely perceptible and queer feeling had come over him, but it was far from the angst that jolted him at this moment.

“You are certain, Minerva? Hogwarts has been fully searched?” Dumbledore screamed out. His old legs suddenly went weak and began shaking.

“Yes, Albus! She’s not here, I tell you! No one saw her return!” Minerva shouted back, reaching for the arm of a chair. Her legs, too, had suddenly started to fail her. Her whole body was shaking involuntarily, as she fell into the chair. Ghastly images of what might have happened to the young witch flew through her mind.

“As fast as you can, Minerva, get Snape and some of the other professors and quickly head off to Hogsmeade. Speak to everyone you encounter. A search must be mounted immediately. I’m off to the Hall of Justice. His Lordship must immediately use the Orb. He will find her; I’m sure of it. Now be off, Minerva, and hurry!” the old headmaster yelled. He reached out for the globe sitting on the left side of his desk and disappeared in a flash.

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Many miles northwest of London, an old ramshackle cottage of considerable size sat deep within a dense forest. Even if a road of any size had passed close to the property, the residence would not have been seen. It had been so poorly maintained for so many countless years it invisibly blended into its surroundings.

Victor Presley Cameron had just walked down into his basement for the second time. It was almost dusk outside and time to play again with the pretty, little redheaded witch he had incarcerated within a large metal cage.

During his first session, the young girl had fought him ferociously, but he was now heartlessly satisfied there was no longer any fight left in her. As he looked down upon the naked body laying upon the wooden rack made for such evil purpose, his evil mind pondered what next to do.

The girl still lay unconscious. Her arms and legs he had lashed to the wooden framework of the rack. Her legs spread wide and ready for his bestial enjoyment.

Victor decided it was a good time to change her position, as he wanted her face down on the rack for his next perverted session. The leg supports had been designed to fold downward and lock in an infinite number of positions. He smiled to himself at the versatility he had incorporated into this modified version of a torture rack his family had used for centuries.

Cameron was an old Gaelic family name, which stood for “one with crooked nose”. Victor’s nose would not be said to be crooked, however. Hooked was more like it. He was a large, ugly and filthy man. He never washed. The stench emanating from his body, as bad as it was, could in no way equal the foul, putrid smell of rotting teeth and abscess which he exhaled with every breath.

He again removed his clothes. Reaching down, he pulled off his old woolen socks and dropped them. They fell heavily to the floor, crusted over with layers of dead flesh and cheesy pus from the countless sores about his feet and toes. His body and face were covered in running eruptions of rancid puss.

It could be said, without stretching the point, if ever a publishing house needed a picture to place beside the word ‘vile’ in a picture dictionary, nothing could have graphically described that word better than a photograph of Victor Presley Cameron.

The foul wizard walked to his frame of torture and began roughly fondling the prostrate girl. His eyes once again fell upon the beautiful emerald ring she was wearing. He moved his fingers toward it but once again hesitated. The first time he saw it, he attempted to remove it from her finger. The ring knocked him almost unconscious with some awesome, unseen power. As much as he wanted to possess it, he had to think of another way to remove it safely from her finger. “Tomorrow,” he whispered. “I’ll cut her finger off. Once that is done the power must surely leave it, and it will be mine.”

He rolled the unconscious girl onto her stomach and refastened the restraints at her hands and feet. He rubbed and squeezed the naked flesh of her soft, round behind. It took him several minutes to drop the leg restraints to lower and spread her legs to the exact position he wanted. He had often fantasized for hours about having this young girl tied to his rack, exactly as she now was. He then went about sodomizing the young girl repeatedly on into the dark night.


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Professor Dumbledore ran up to the third-floor of the residence as fast as his old legs could carry him. His mind was filled with dreadful, evil images. How could he have let this happen, he thought to himself. It was his entire fault; he was sure of it.

Chief Justice Webster was enjoying the company of one of his young witches when the old wizard burst into his bedroom. Webster pushed at the girl’s butt, who was on her hands and knees on his bed, collapsing her forward into the mattress. The naked man hurriedly began dressing, instantly frightened himself from the look on the old wizard’s face.

“What’s wrong, Albus?” Webster screamed out.

“Something terribly dreadful, I fear, Dan! We believe Ginny Weasley has been abducted! She has gone suddenly missing! We need your help immediately!” the old professor shouted out, breathing heavily, his hands falling to grasp his knees, as he fought to catch his breath.

Harry and Hermione, having heard the ruckus, quickly ran out into the hallway and saw the old professor bent over in Webster’s bedroom. They ran up beside him, each grasping an arm in their hands.

“What has happened?” Hermione cried out, bending around to look into the old man’s panicked face.

The old wizard straightened up, still gasping for breath. “Hermione! Harry! Something has happened to Ginny! She’s missing! I came running here as fast as I could! Dan, we must go to the Orb! Quickly! Please!” the old professor pleaded.

At that moment, Captain Stran also entered the bedroom. She ran around to face the old wizard.

“What can I do, Professor! Tell me!” Stran shouted out.

“Deborah! Please! Go to Falcon’s Lair! Sound the alarm! Tell Priest that Ginny Weasley is missing. We fear she has been abducted. Tell them to prepare themselves. Tell all of them to stand ready for my call!” he commanded the Captain of the Guard.

The blond witch sprinted off, heading straightaway for the portkey.

“Harry, help Albus along! Hermione, come with us! I have it in a room below! Let’s go!” Webster ordered and quickly began moving toward the exit of the residence.

In a few short minutes, Webster opened the door to the fifth office down from Hermione’s. He ran and opened a cabinet affixed to the wall and carefully reached in to withdraw the Orb of the Oracle. He carried it to the large desk and sat it down, before collapsing his large frame into the chair at the desk.

The Orb was radiating a strong bluish light from deep within the globe. Webster slowly raised his hands to the side. The orb grew instantly to a very large size.

“Find Ginny Weasley,” he whispered.

The Orb instantly fogged up; a misty white cloud swirled inside the large globe. A vague, dark image formed. It was hard to make out what they were seeing. Hermione, however, knew instantly what was happening and gasped, quickly turning away.

Harry saw her reaction to the muddled image and reached for her. “What is it, Hermione? What did you see?”

“Horrible, Harry! It was horrible! She is being raped!” Hermione exclaimed, tears streaming from her eyes, her shoulders quaking with her sobs.

“Do you see that, Professor?” Harry yelled out at the old wizard, as he was unable to make out anything himself.

“It’s unclear to me what I am seeing, Harry. I can’t say. Dan, try to peer closer and look around,” Dumbledore requested of the large man.

Webster tired to move the image about, as best as he could, to get a better view and different perspective. The room they were looking into was very dark. He was unsure what he was seeing. As he tried to pull away from what must have been the girl, the image instantly disappeared.

Webster was breathing hard from his exertions. “Give me a minute, Albus. I’ll try again,” he said, with sweat running down his face.

“Tea!” Dumbledore screamed out. Instantly a large tea service appeared on a countertop. He quickly moved to it and poured a glass of tea for Webster. “Drink this, Dan. Drink lots of it!”

Webster emptied the glass and Dumbledore quickly poured him another. After finishing a third glass, Webster leaned forward and again obtained an image. This effort was much better, but it was still very dark. The men peered hard into the image and finally saw what Hermione had seen: A large man appeared to be taking her from behind, although it was quite unclear exactly what he was doing. The movements the man was making made it obvious, though. Ginny appeared to be tied down to some kind of wooden frame or bed. Webster held the image as long as he could but finally lost it again. He was totally spent.

“We must find out where she is. It’s obviously dark, but that could mean anything. It’s late evening outside. She could be in a house, a basement, a dungeon or almost anywhere. I couldn’t tell,” Dumbledore said, vocalizing what they all were thinking. “Damn it all!”

“Did the man’s form mean anything to you, Professor? Did he resemble anyone you have seen before?” Harry asked, himself shaking with fear and anger. His eyes were tearing heavily from his emotional state.

“No, Harry. I just couldn’t tell. It was much too dark. I’m sorry,” the old headmaster said, dropping a hand to the desk to support his weight. His old frame was shaking uncontrollably. His legs felt rubbery.

Harry noticed the old man’s condition and quickly brought a chair to him. Dumbledore collapsed into it. Harry brought both of the men tea then went to comfort Hermione, who was crying against the frame of the door. He pulled her to him; both began crying into each other’s shoulder, and holding each other tightly to support themselves.


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Victor again withdrew from inside the girl. He rubbed the soiled organ against the back of her legs. He then walked around to the girl’s head and looked down on her peaceful, unconscious face. He lightly touched it and ran his coarse, heavy fingers through her red hair. She was very beautiful and fresh.

Memories of such girls ran through his mind. How many had made fun of the ungainly and homely boy he once was. Some he had later brought here, tying them to this frame and torturing them for days. He and his brother Sebastian had had many hours of great fun sadistically torturing so many. It was always such a pleasurable release and a bonding experience with his younger brother. But his dear Sebastian had been taken from him, taken by that bastard Dumbledore and his puppet, Webster. This girl would be the first of many to repay him for that act. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on another, and then another.

The large, ugly wizard again went about turning the girl over on the frame and repositioning her restraints. His large, dirty fingers ran up and down her body, squeezing and pinching at her youthful flesh. He again walked to her head and dropped the wooden rest, which supported it. What he proceeded to do was unspeakable, unholy. The girl choked and gagged. She returned to painful consciousness, her mind cloudy but feeling as if someone were gagging her. She couldn’t breath.

Victor pulled back and then raised the headboard. He laughed out at the girl.

“You’ve had a peaceful sleep, my pretty! I’m sorry you weren’t awake to enjoy our lovemaking. But don’t fret, you will have many such days of enjoyment,” he said, laughing loudly and gutturally.

Ginny again began fighting against her restraints while trying to spit the foul taste of him from her mouth. She began crying hysterically.


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Chief Justice Webster, Professor Dumbledore and Harry had just heard and seen what the horrible man had done to her. Because Ginny returned to consciousness, Webster was able to resolve a much better image. Although still quite dark, much more was visible.

Hermione had run from the room, after seeing what was happening to her friend the second time. Harry wanted badly to follow her, to comfort her as best he could, but he knew he had to remain and see all the images could show him. He must know where Ginny was being held. Surely, some clue would eventually be seen.

“She’s regained consciousness, Dan. That’s why the image improved so much. I’m sure of it,” Dumbledore excitedly said, tears of anguish glowing from his old eyes.

“I’ll try it again in a minute, Albus. I just can’t now. I’m totally exhausted,” the large justice said, leaning his head back and gasping at the air. The effort drained him physically and emotionally. He felt as if could sleep for days. It was as if the Orb sucked energy right out of his being.

Graciela Calderon and Sirius Black rushed into the room. They were each holding a stack of folders in their hands.

“What have you seen, Professor?” Sirius asked.

“Very little, Sirius. Dark images - - -.”

“Did you see his face? He might be one of those in our folders here. If he is, we’ll know approximately where to start our search,” Sirius rightly reasoned.

“Yes!” Dumbledore shouted out. “Bring them over here to the countertop! Open them! Let’s see what images Cetus had!”

Graciela and Sirius quickly began opening the folders. Each had photographs of a witch or wizard inside. Graciela quickly moved the folders of witches to one side to give them more room.

The old professor and Harry began quickly flipping through the images.

“Harry, call Hermione back in here. For some reason she was able to see him better than we were. Quickly!” Dumbledore commanded.

Seconds later, Hermione also began looking through the photographs. Her eyes showed she had been crying, but she had regained her composure. She knew she had to have her wits about her if she was to be of any help to her friend.

“This!” Hermione screamed out. “This looks much like him!”

“Sebastian Cameron!” Graciela said, reading the name from off the inside of the file. “He has a brother, if I remember! The next file, Sirius, open up the next file!” Graciela was so excited her hands were shaking violently.

“Yes!” Hermione screamed again. “That’s him! I know it! That’s him!” She again began crying, bringing her hands to her face.

“Victor Cameron!” Graciela screamed out.

“Where the hell does he live?” Sirius asked out, grabbing at the file lying on the countertop. “This is some miles northwest of London. I know the area. Not well. But, yes, I know the area.”

“What does the file say, Sirius? We need to know,” asked Dumbledore, still trembling and beside himself with fright for the girl.

“The two brothers own a small property. It has been in their family for many generations. A large cottage located in heavy forest. Cetus made notes about him being filthy, sadistic and perverted. He has listed some names of those they are known to have killed. There’s an old witch and her son who work for them. No other family. That’s all, Professor,” Sirius said, closing the folder and throwing it back on the countertop.


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Victor Cameron pulled back on his filthy clothes, after he once again tortured the young witch. Ginny was hurting terribly. She was bleeding from a number of places were he had bitten into her skin with his rotting teeth. He had sucked at her so roughly and long, he had raised pools of blood to the surface of her skin. He had sadistically kissed and licked her face and neck. His putrid stench lingered on her body and was more than she could bear.

Before he once again locked the cage, he dropped a bucket of water in the corner and threw a chunk of moldy bread on the floor.

“Have a refreshing sleep, my pretty. I’ll be back to play with you in the morning. I’ll introduce you to an underling you will enjoy getting to know. Pleasant dreams,” he said, turning to leave the basement.

Cameron had released the restraints, which had held Ginny to the large wooden frame. She lacked the strength to move, although she had to get to the water. Ginny had to wash away his foul stench.


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Minutes later, Arthur Weasley ran into the room. Ron, Fred and George were at his back.

“Albus! What do you know?” Arthur cried out. “What has happened to my Ginny?”

The old wizard quickly came to his feet and turned toward the distraught man. “Arthur, we believe Ginny’s being held by a wizard named Victor Cameron. He lives northwest of London. However, we can’t be sure he still resides where Cetus said he did. And we don’t know if he even has Ginny at the residence. We’re just now planning how we’re going to proceed,” Dumbledore hurriedly told the man, reaching out and grabbling Weasley’s shoulder with his long fingers.

“Let’s go then!” Arthur exclaimed, emotional tears running from his eyes from the fear taking control of his body.

“We must be sure, Arthur! We must be absolutely sure! We can’t afford to run off wildly!” Dumbledore exclaimed, desperately trying to reason with the frightened father of the girl.

“The amulet, Professor!” Harry yelled out.

Harry’s shout jolted the old headmaster. “Yes, of course!” Dumbledore exclaimed, turning quickly to face him.

Harry lifted a hand to his chest, pushing an unseen object into his flesh. “My amulet reacts to her ring. Do you think she still has the ring?” he anxiously asked.

“I don’t know, Harry. If she does, I’m certain your amulet will be able to sense it,” the old wizard reasoned.

“Let me try, Professor. I’ll take Ron, Fred and George with me. Sirius, you must come with us. I don’t know where it is,” Harry pleaded.

Sirius nodded his head, looking from Dumbledore back to Harry and pointing back down at the folder on the table. “Harry, this area covers many hundred of square miles. It could take us days to search it out. Are you sure the amulet will work?”

The precocious young wizard eagerly nodded his head. “Yes, I know it will. What choice do we have until Webster gets a better image,” Harry implored.

Webster turned in his chair and once again raised his hand. He whispered his wish to the Orb once again, and he immediately captured another dark image.

Ginny was leaning against what appeared to be the iron bars of a cage. She had wrapped herself is what looked to be a blanket or robe. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be crying.

Arthur Weasley broke down into a fit of hysterical weeping himself. He collapsed into Fred and George who were also tearful at the sight of their young sister. Ron had brought a hand up and pushed it into his mouth to contain the anger and rage within him.

“We’ve no choice, Sirius! We must do it and we must do it now! There’s no time! That evil bastard might be back any minute!” Harry screamed out in rage, reaching out and grabbing Sirius’ shoulder hard and shaking it.

“He’s right!” Sirius exclaimed, looking around to face Dumbledore. “We must go. We must try.”

The old wizard wearily nodded his head. “Very well! Take none of the others from Falcon’s Lair. If you are wrong, we might need them later to search a different location. I’ll try to help the Chief Justice fix the image again as often as we can,” Dumbledore replied.

As much as Arthur Weasley wanted to rush out with his boys and assist them, Professor Dumbledore quickly convinced him it would be foolhardy. He must stay and help Webster and himself. He might notice something they would miss. The distraught father agreed, but he felt totally helpless and frantic.

Harry, Sirius and the Weasley boys straightaway returned to Falcon’s Lair to get their equipment and weapons. Within the hour, they were flying south as fast as their brooms could go. Dressed in their invisibility garments, wearing the muggle-made lowlight goggles that Grime had procured for them, they rushed along following the dim glow emitting from Sirius Black’s broomstick. The cold January night sliced into them, chilling them to their very bones, but they never slowed.

Graciela had returned to Falcon’s Lair long enough to tell the other young witches and wizards to prepare and ready their equipment. She then told Remus and Oliver Wood that Professor Dumbledore wanted them to go straight to the Hall of Justice. A security officer would meet them and take them to where the men were waiting.

Drucila Priest was beside herself. The old witch began pacing the floor frustrated and angry she could do nothing but wait. “Who do they think done it!” the old witch screamed out at Graciela.

“They believe it’s a wizard named Cameron. Victor Cameron,” Graciela said.

“Cameron!” the old witch eyes opened wide. “The fuckin’ Cameron boys! They attended my school, they did! Despicable, no good, filthy bastards they were! Yes! I know the assholes!” Fire flashed in the old witches eyes. Graciela slowly backed away from her not knowing what she might do.

“Does Albus need any other help, Graciela?” Grime anxiously asked. The large man’s frustration was clearly evident. He lumbered about as if he were ready to strike out explosively at anything daring to get in his way.

“None he told me about. I’m sure he’ll request help the second it’s needed,” Graciela told the large man.

Young witches and wizards soon came bounding down the stairs fully dressed in their invisibility garments, except for their hoods and gloves. They all had their weapons and brooms at hand. The team members spoke nervously amongst themselves, wondering what was happening.

Graciela took the opportunity to tell them all she knew up to the point she had left the Hall of Justice. When Graciela mentioned the area that Cameron was said to live in, Grime had them hurry back into the large dining room to look at the map on the easel. The young witches and wizards began familiarizing themselves with the area, waiting for word that may or may not come.


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Ginny Weasley had not moved in hours. She lay curled up, her left shoulder pressed against the hard cold steel of the cage. Around her, she had pulled her torn robe and, on top of that, a filthy blanket she found wadded up in the corner of the large cage.

Even in her frightful state, she was jolted out of fitful sleep by a sudden warmth she felt. Her ring instantly felt strangely warm. She had completely forgotten about it, even though it was the only thing not yet taken from her. Her thoughts instantly turned to Harry and she began to cry once again.


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What seemed like hours of flying had passed, made even more so by the impatient, frantic state of the five wizards on their desperate mission. Finally, Sirius slowed and began searching the terrain in front of him. At length, they had reached the general vicinity of the old residence. Sirius was sure of it. But it was still much too dark, even with the muggle-made night vision goggles to make out much below them.

Some minutes later, Harry suddenly felt strong heat radiating from his amulet. He raised his free hand to cover it and immediately cried out for Sirius to stop.

Soon the four other flyers were hovering around Harry.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” yelled Ron.

“It’s the amulet! It became suddenly warm, Ron! Ginny is near!” Harry screamed out.

The others automatically lifted hands to their amulets but felt nothing. All remembered what Dumbledore had once told them about the amulets being able to sense others made from the same stone. Ginny’s ring had also been made from that same stone.

“I don’t feel anything!” Ron exclaimed.

“I do!” Harry replied, knowing he was right.

“You lead us, Harry! We’ll follow! Trust your amulet!” Sirius shouted out.

Harry lifted his index finger of the hand he was gripping his broom with. He found the small sliding switch, which the special order brooms had installed and a very faint glow began emitting from the end of the broomstick. Harry didn’t wait. He slowly descended to within several hundred feet of the ground and trusted his amulet to take him where he must go.

He sensed the amulet. He felt it urging him on. It made his path clear to him, but in a way he could not articulate.

Along the distant eastern horizon, the night-vision goggles enhanced the first distant glow of the morning’s dawn, which was still over an hour away. Harry began slowing. Those following him began searching for anything visible, other than the countless thousands of trees blocking their view of the ground.

“We’ll have to fly right over something to see it! The trees are too thick!” Fred yelled out.

“Spread out! Keep in sight of Harry’s broom but spread out!” Sirius cried out.

The four flyers left Harry’s side and moved off a large distance. Harry’s amulet was still quite warm, and he completely trusted the direction it was encouraging him to go. He slowed to a crawl but kept his distance above the dense forest.

Harry was the first to smell it. At first, it was just a faint hint of something, but now he knew.

“Smoke!” he cried out. “I smell smoke! Wood smoke!”

“Yeah! Me, too!” screamed George, off to his right.

Suddenly, right ahead of them, a large cottage came into view. Smoke was rising from its chimney.

Harry stopped and hovered in place. He called the flyers back to his side. When they all had gathered, Sirius was the first to speak.

“Harry! What do you think? Is this it?”

“Yes, Sirius. I’m sure of it. Let’s go into the trees below us. Then I’ll walk up and see who’s inside,” Harry replied.

“Let’s go!” Sirius exclaimed, anxious to get on with it. The shrewd wizard dreaded wasting anymore time than was absolutely needed to clear the cabin, if it happened not to be the one they were looking for. As Sirius still hadn’t felt any warmth from his amulet, he was hoping Harry wasn’t just wasting their time; time they would need for Ginny’s sake.

Soon they were standing at the edge of a small clearing. The cottage was less than a hundred yards from them. Harry asked all of them to stay right where they were. He speedily made his way to the cottage and looked into the house through one of the filthy windows. The first thing he noticed was an old witch tending a fire in a large fireplace. She appeared to be cooking something. An ugly beast of a man sat at a table drinking from a mug.

“Up late last night, were ya?” Harry heard the old witch ask the man at the table.

“She couldn’t keep her hands off me!” the man growled in reply, laughing coarsely and scratching at his grubby head.

“Are you going to let Barthold have a go at her?” the old hag asked. “He’s such a lonesome boy.”

The question seemed to exasperate the formidable looking wizard. “Yeah. If he wants some, he can spend a little time with her. She isn’t as fresh as she was yesterday. I’ll let him do whatever he wants. But I ain’t done with her yet. He best not hurt her too bad with his toys,” the big man replied.

“He’ll be so happy to hear that, Victor. He worships you, you know?” the old hag replied, delighted her hefty son would have a taste of the young girl.

“Where is he?” Cameron asked.

“He’ll be coming along shortly. He had some things he wanted to do before he left the house. You know him and his toys. He was hoping you would let him have a go at the girl. He has some new toys he’s so anxious to try out on her.”

Harry had heard enough. He wasn’t sure where Ginny was, but he knew these two had her. He ran back to where the others waited for him.

“Yes. They have her. I don’t know where, but they have her,” Harry whispered out to them.

He went on to tell them what he had just overheard. He also mentioned the old hag speaking about another who had not yet arrived.

Sirius then took charge. “Fred! George! You two make your way around to the back. Harry, Ron and I are going to blast through the front door and rush them. Harry, I want you to take the lead and stun the big man. I’ll take care of the old witch. Ron! I want you to cover our back. Do you all understand?”

“Yeah!” exclaimed Ron. “Let’s get this over with!”

Fred and George Weasley took off at a run toward the back of the cottage. Sirius, Harry and Ron walked steadily toward the front door. They each drew their wands and blasted through the cottages front door with the explosive force of a small bomb. They then immediately charged into the house.

The large man had been knocked off of the bench he had been sitting on and was getting to his feet when Harry paralyzed him with an incantation. Sirius hit the witch with such force she was thrown back into the large fireplace. Sirius knew she was dead before flames ever enveloped her scrawny corpse.

Ron watched their back, as he had been trained but was growing very impatient. “Harry! You must find Ginny! Please, hurry! Search the house!”

Harry and Sirius ran through the large cottage, but it was empty. About that time, Fred and George kicked in the back door and entered the house. Harry was the one who found the door to the basement and carefully opened it, not knowing what to expect. He raised his wand and illuminated the steps below. The whole house reeked of the most terrible stench imaginable. The basement was even worse.

He slowly started down the steps, Sirius following closely behind. Upon nearing the basement floor, Harry noticed the cage and ran to it. He blew the lock off with a flick of his wand. Ginny was delirious and murmuring irrational things. Harry reached down for her and pulled her close to him.

“It’s going to be okay, Ginny. You’re safe now. It’s going to be okay,” he repeated over and over, crying uncontrollably from his intense emotional state.

Ron was the first Weasley down the stairs. Fred and George remained in the house, which was quickly filling up with the odor of the old witches burning flesh. When Ron saw Harry holding Ginny he ran wildly to them and fell to his knees. He reached an arm around his semi-conscious sister’s head and squeezed it to him. He too began crying uncontrollably.

“We must get out of here fast, Harry! This whole damn place is going to burn to the ground!” Sirius angrily yelled out. Never had the man felt such intense rage.

Harry and Ron picked Ginny up and quickly carried her out of the basement. They didn’t lay her down until they were again at the forest’s tree line.

Sirius gratifyingly finished the large man on the floor. At first, he had wanted to question him but had decided there was nothing he could say that would be worth the effort. After Fred, George and Sirius walked out of the cottage and were nearing the tree line, a large, younger man was seen running wildly toward the cottage from the forest. He was yelling and screaming, quickly moving toward the burning house. Fred lifted his wand to kill the man but Sirius reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Come with me, Fred!” he ordered.

Sirius and Fred walked toward the burning cottage where the man was running back and forth, screaming at the top of his lungs. As they walked up behind the heavy wizard, he turned and noticed them for the first time.

“What have you done!” he screamed at the heads bobbing before him.

“We did what we had to do!” Sirius yelled back.

“You fuckin’ bastards!” the man yelled, running toward the head he saw floating in front of him.

Sirius lifted his wand and the man was struck with an awesome force, which threw him up and into the burning house. Sirius shook his head in disgust. “Let’s go, Fred. We have no more business here.”

Another cold, late January morning was breaking. It promised to be another clear and wondrous winter day.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Ginny Weasley was at Hogwarts within two hours under the care of Madam Pomfrey. Her numerous wounds had been treated, and the old nurse had scrubbed her clean of the foul stench, which had permeated the girl’s hair and every pore of her body.

Oliver Wood and Remus Lupin had helped Chief Justice Daniel Webster to his bed. The big man was unable to stand, after he had held the image of the five who had rescued Ginny for the entire later part of their mission. Professor Dumbledore ordered Deborah Stran to post a guard at his door. No one was to bother the man until he was able to walk out of the room under his own power.

Arthur Weasley had collapsed into the arms of his sons after he made his way to Hogwarts and ascertained Ginny would recover from her ordeal. Molly Weasley soon arrived and would not leave her daughters bed for days.

Harry and Hermione stayed that day and the next night with Molly. They both shuddered to think how close they had all come to losing their dearest friend.

Arthur Weasley traveled to Falcon’s Lair the next day to personally thank Sirius, Graciela and the others for all of their help. The man fully realized, if it had not been for their quick thinking, especially where the files were concerned, they might have never found his Ginny alive.

Albus Dumbledore would later write in his memoirs that Ginny’s abduction had taught them all a very powerful lesson: No matter how good things may seem, they rarely are as they seem. No matter how good you might want things to be, evil would forever be lurking about, waiting and watching, always ready to steal the good from you. They also learned a lesson about complacency, being self-satisfied and unaware of possible dangers. Lastly, however, the actions of many had saved the young girl’s life. Together they were strong, and together they would remain.