Repercussions - 5

"I don't know. It's going to take me some time to see how bad the damage is," Madam Pomfrey said, obviously shaken. "She's stable for now, but I can't heal these burns without some additional research."

"How did Hermione get these burns, Ginny?" Remus asked. "Can you tell us that?"

"Hermione," Ron said, his voice cracking as he attempted to move closer to her.

"Sit down, young man," Madam Pomfrey demanded. "Let me take a look at you before you go anywhere. You," she said, pointing at Bill and the twins, "begin Transfiguring this furniture into beds and make me an infirmary. I want all four of my patients in the same spot."

"Ginny's not hurt," Bill said, staring at his sister with that same unfathomable expression.

"I'll be the judge of that. Just do as I say," Madam Pomfrey snapped, returning to tending Ron's wounds.

"Ginny, who caused these injuries to the others?" Remus asked, attempting to stop the bleeding on Harry's chest with the sleeve of his robe. "We haven't had any reports of Death Eater activity tonight."

"Voldemort," Ginny said flatly.

There were several gasps, and her mother visibly flinched.

"Ginny!" she cried as if Ginny had cursed. "Don't say the name."

Ginny rolled her eyes. She was tired and stressed and the adrenaline from the night's activities was beginning to wear off. She had no patience for this. "I will say the name. I'm not going to be a hypocrite about it."

"Don't talk to your mother that way, Ginny," her father said sternly. It was so rare that her dad ever reprimanded them that it mollified her instantly.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said. "It's been a stressful night, and I'm worried about them."

Her mother's expression softened slightly, although she still hadn't made a move to touch her. Ginny wished she would; she could use a hug.

Harry groaned slightly and shifted his position. Ginny immediately turned to him and brushed the hair from his eyes. "Harry?" she said.

She could see his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed lids, but she suspected he was dreaming rather than trying to wake.

"I've healed most of his burns. They weren't as severe as Miss Granger's. Still, I need to do a little research before I can be certain," Madam Pomfrey said. Ron was sleeping peacefully in the bed Fred and George had Transfigured. Ginny suspected that Madam Pomfrey had given him a sleeping draught. She wished she could get one in order to avoid the questions she knew were coming.

"I have some questions I need answered as well, but let me tend to Mr. Potter first," Madam Pomfrey said.

"I think we all have a lot of questions," her dad said, his gaze boring into Ginny and causing her to flinch.

When Madam Pomfrey reached Harry, she waved her wand over him once and jerked back. "These aren't burns," she said, nonplussed.

"No," Ginny replied, swallowing hard. She didn't want to reveal anything she'd promised to keep quiet, but she had to make certain the others' injuries were tended. She found herself wishing these weren't her decisions to make and had a new respect for the burden that had been placed on Harry. No wonder he frequently appeared so on edge.

She desperately wanted to do the right thing, but what happened if what was the right thing wasn't entirely clear? How was she supposed to know, let alone decide? Professor Dumbledore's words from after the Third Task drifted back to her, something about choosing between what was right and what was easy. It would be easy to simply fall on her knees and confess everything to the Order, to place the burden of what to do on their heads. But that wasn't what Harry would do. He'd choose the right path, no matter how much it cost him. Ginny had to choose to do what was right, as well.