Night Divine
The stars are brightly shining
The stars in the twilight sky twinkled un-forgivingly. Their distant, untouchable beauty rained down upon the tragedy-ridden world that was Earth; just as they had preordained for centuries, war raged upon its surface. wizards, witches, Muggles, creatures of darkness and of light were all dying. If stars had ears they would have heard the collective crescendo of battle cries, the weeping of grief and relief, the sighs of tired warriors fighting a fight they can see no end to. This catastrophic sonata that depicted a sorrow so terrible it was heartbreaking. However, stars did not have ears for hearing, but Gods, Gods do. Gods, too, have eyes which peered from the heavens - or their human guise - and gaze at the horrors Earth's people inflicted upon one another.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
The bath water around her had turned to a murky, greyish colour. The bubbles had long since disappeared, leaving her naked body uncovered except for the less than savoury looking water. The swell of her breasts, knees, shoulders, and head were the only things not submersed in the lukewarm liquid. Her face streaked with tears and smudged with mascara that ran and smeared across her face as she'd attempted to push the tears from her cheeks. Although the attempt to dry the saltwater that leaked out from beneath her lashes seemed a fruitless exercise as she only began again, fresh waves of pain raked through her body.
He was supposed to return to her tonight. They had promised her, her love would come back from the fighting tonight - Christmas Eve. She had been allowed to spend the night with her lover before he returned Christmas morning to his troop once more, in an attempt to win the War and help the Order. But he hadn't. Instead, she had cradled a scrap of parchment that bored the words "DRACO MALFOY - MISSING IN ACTION".
No, that didn't mean for sure he'd died, but something within her had. It was in that feeling she knew his soul no longer resided in this world. His body was lying somewhere, - a dungeon, a ditch, an empty room - only his killer knew its exact location. His eyes blank and lifeless, his body stiff and cold; none of the warmth, the love or the beauty she'd fallen in love. An empty vessel; a shell.
Lying there, she realistically thought of thrusting her head, bedecked with fiery curls, beneath the surface of the water, and forcing herself to remain there until her soul, too, left her body and joined Draco's. But fear held her head above the exterior of the caliginous aqua. What if he really was only missing? What if he had not died as she thought? What would her mother do to find that Ginny had done something so selfish, simply because she was hurting? And the factor that incessantly plagued her mind - what if dying by suicide sent your soul to a different place than those who died with honour in a battle? Her sacrifice would be in vain and she'd never see her love again, not even in the land of the Eidolon. It was far too risky, but at that moment Ginny felt she'd do anything to give her heart a reprise from breaking. She was certain the shards of a broken heart could be no smaller than the splinters of hers, and to abnegate the tears which ran from her eyes.
Poets told of love being a harsh mistress, but Ginny thought that it was humanity, violence, loss and fate that were the callous paramours of pain. How was it she that she lost the only man she ever truly loved? Was it because they were not destined to be as one? Were Slytherin and Gryffindor in a union together too much for the Gods to handle? She missed him so much. A part of her soul ached with a longing thirst she knew nothing could sate.
Fall on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine
Vidar found himself in a room bright with starlight. His old companions surrounded him. Their watchful gazes observed him as he lay naked in the centre of the room, facing his father and punisher, Odin. His father was exactly as he remembered him, though a great deal less angry and he was seated by Frigg, his wife. He was home; at last. So why. . .why wasn't he happy? Why did his body yearn for something he couldn't describe. Forseti, the God of justice smirked down at him, as if to say "well done, justice is served." Though to be honest, Vidar couldn't quite recall why he'd been punished all those years ago anymore. It had been centuries and, well, he only had snippets of memories from his time in imprisonment.
"My son," boomed the King of the Deity, "you are home, at last." At these words he knew he should have felt ecstatic, he had been welcomed back. . .but there was a deep sadness that seemed to strike him at the very core of his newly reinstated Godly soul, and for him it was quite unexplainable. Loki, in his male guise once more, had been known to gender swap over the years and had been a beautiful nymph when Vidar had last set eyes upon him. Loki clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him to his feet, as Hlin ran towards him, her chestnut coloured hair flouncing around her, to place a long robe around him. He had to admit he had missed donning his clothing.
"Drink! Frivolity all 'round!" yelled the God of mischief, his eyes dancing gleefully. A round of cheers was met to this, however, Odin, informed by Frigg of course, struck down his staff and a resounding boom echoed throughout the meeting room of the Gods. Each member of the Divinity stopped in their tracks, silence enveloped them and turned to face their leader. He looked stern, disappointed to an extent and concerned.
"My son," he knelt beside his kin. "What is it that troubles you?"
"I - I am unsure, my Lord." His words seemed so weak next to his father's deafening tones, "I don't really understand where I have been and. . .and within me is a great sadness that I do not think is really mine, as it seems. . .detached somehow and yet. . .I feel it all the same."
Odin looked at his son, perplexed. "Leave; all of you except Saga. I wish for you to accompany my son and I, Lady."
The old looking woman nodded. It was strange with Saga who was as ancient as the hills yet her looks appeared unhampered by the many years. Her era wasn't obvious by just looking at her. In certain lights she portrayed herself as frail and near death, whereas in others she looked as strong as an Amazon, particularly with her impressive seven foot tall frame and willowy body. She was the Goddess of history and the past.
Odin ushered Vidar and Saga over to a balcony which looked out onto the starry night sky. For a moment, no one spoke, instead they listened to the cacophony of sound arising from the mortals below them. So much pain, so much sorrow and so little rejoicing. It stunk of fear. There was something within him that Vidar could feel it tugging strongly at his heartstrings. And one particular chord of lament seemed stronger than any other.
He wanted to help, to join them; anything to heal their anguish, odd considering he was the God of solitude and independence. He, who had always hated to be part of a team, now wanted to aid all those people below him. And yet another part of him seemed to be telling him it was ridiculous. He was a God and that he had no business meddling with them.
"For some reason, Vidar is having trouble adjusting to being back where he belongs."
"As is to be expected. . .my Lord," she added his title as an afterthought as an offering of respect. Though the fact she had greatly disapproved of what Odin had subjected his son to all those years ago was greatly apparent.
"I want you to discover what it is that still haunts him."
Saga nodded. The God had sent his son's essence to Earth and latched it into a human soul for five hundred years. The soul didn't know Vidar had been there and neither did Vidar. He merely experienced the emotions of life and human feelings, that alone had tormented him. However, the soul should have been able to return without repercussions but this seemed to be not the case.
"I think you are probably pining your most recent past, as you are so freshly affected by it."
Vidar nodded. Picking up a small knife, Saga cut a gash into the sky and stepped through it, beckoning the two Gods with her; she was ripping holes in time in hope to observe Vidar's most recent human host. They found themselves five years into the past and looking at a scene with a red haired woman and a blonde haired man.
Ginny laughed as Draco pouted over her talking with Harry earlier in the day; he was always so damn jealous! He was seated on a patch of grass, ignoring her attempts to coax him into a conversation, or at least to acknowledge her presence. He knew he was being irrational and that she'd never be with Potter - not while she had him. But bugger! He didn't like it. They had history together and were closer in a way he'd never get to her because they were childhood friends. He was her first crush and he saw her like a little sister. He was the boyfriend. The un-trusted by all her family and friends boyfriend.
She pushed her way onto his lap, hips meeting in a clash of almost jagged bone through their thin figures. Forcing her lips onto his she enticed the blonde into a fairly heated kiss. She always knew how to placate him in the end.
Vidar gazed at the couple, a longing deep within him ignited strangely. Odin, however, looked unimpressed, clearly not seeing what this had anything to do with his son's odd behaviour upon return. Sensing her leader's slight irritation, Saga opened up another hole and led the way into yet another memory featuring the same couple, however, both were a little older by about two years, and looked more mature. The redhead had a swollen bump on her stomach.
She sat up, feeling wet and sticky and wondering what on earth she'd spilt over herself. Picking up her wand off of the bedside table she uttered the incantation "lumos." Once the want tip illuminated she'd pulled back the covers and saw a large patch of blood. Feeling suddenly nauseous and dizzy, she screamed and jumped up out of where she had laid asleep only minutes ago. Her wand fell to the floor, but the light protruding from it remained intact and she found herself shrinking back towards a wall, red covering her hands.
The man she'd been sleeping beside leapt out of bed the moment he'd heard his fiancŽe call out, but almost fainted at the amount of blood that covered the bed and his lover. She was shaking, tears and sweat and blood caking her face and hands. She'd lost the baby. He knew it and so did she. When the emergency Healers came around and confirmed it an hour later, neither were shocked.
A tear rolled down Vidar's cheek. He didn't understand why it hurt him to watch this scene. He'd seen many deaths and slaughter in his time. It wasn't his child he had just watched die.
"You're trying my patience, Saga," rumbled the King of the Gods.
"One more, my Lord, let us see the body as he vacated it." Once again the mysterious Goddess led them to Draco Malfoy's last moments on Earth.
"Draco Malfoy. . .blood traitor!" spat the man holding a wand over the blonde, whose legs had been broken and who was forced to be at this man's feet. By choice Draco would have rather died standing. Yes, he knew this was the end, he felt it. There was a finality in the air for him and he would have begged it not to come. Not to save himself from leaving this world. To hell with Earth, he cared nothing for it but he did care for Ginny. He loved her more than anything in the world. If he died he knew she'd break just as he would were she to die.
Please, he found himself thinking, please let me live, just so I get to say goodbye to her. I wanted to grow old with her, try for another child, make her happy. . . Happy with me. Though somehow he knew no amount of praying would help, his soul was ready to leave him.
"Avada Kedavra."
Suddenly they were back in the room full of bright light. It was still empty save the three members of the Deity which had just appeared.
"Silly old crone! So he died. His host loved a girl and he died - what's new in the world of mortals?!"
"Father, I cannot explain this well, but. . .I feel as though I still have a part of him and her with me."
"What? Send in Sjofn!" A striking Goddess entered, whose features, although beautiful, could have belonged to either woman or man. She was the Goddess of love. "What did you mean by this?" he bellowed and with a wave of his hand conjured a type of portal that showed flickers of the love of Ginevra and Draco.
Sjofn gazed at the images and smiled. "Soul mates." She waved her hand and showed an image of Ginny lying in a cold bath, crying so hard her entire body shook. Instantly, the Goddess' features changed to master a look of deep anger.
"You. . .you killed her lover? His host. . .you, you killed him?"
"How else was he supposed to get out of that body!"
"Any other way but this . .or you should have kept him in there until Draco's life ended when it supposed to! True soul mates are so very rare and they only meet once in the cycle of their lifetimes! And now. . .now you've ruined both their souls. That's it. End of them."
"I don't see how it ---"
"Odin! The old magic. . .the deep magic, that we ourselves base our very existence on is only there through the power of true love, and souls connecting; these two were. . .very old souls indeed. They held so much magic energy in them. You are a fool to have not considered this."
"Now listen her lady yo--," however he got no further in his tirade as he saw his son fall to the floor, in what seemed to be immense pain, clutching the air towards the image of the weeping redhead. "Fix him."
"He has parts of their souls - more over the part with which they had tessellated with one another - ingrained within him. When you punished your son you should have known how very permanent your damage was to be. We've lost a great power source and your son will now lament their loss for eternity! If he'd died naturally part of Draco's soul and part of Ginny soul wouldn't be connected with Vidar and they - " she indicated Ginny and Vidar, "wouldn't be feeling this excruciating amount of pain!"
"What - what can be done?"
"Go to Valhalla and find Draco Malfoy's broken soul. Return him to his body and plant Vidar back within him. Let them love for this life time and then kill his next host." Sjofn, knelt besides Vidar and said, "I'm sorry, this is not my doing, I cannot make soul mates. . .you need to do this. We shall suffer great losses if you do not put aside your own needs for the next eighty or so years. It isn't that long and then you'll return here and you shall be fully you again, free to roam here once more." Vidar nodded, not being able to stand the hurt he felt any longer.
"Gna," boomed Odin's voice. "Go to Valhalla. Fetch the torn soul and deliver it to this boy once more. Then find Frigg and tell her to heal the mortal's body, too, it needs to be fully in tact before you can insert a soul, and before I can inject Vidar back into him."
Till he appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
Ginny looked up. A man with dark hair and chocolate coloured skin stood in her bathroom. Although she did not know him she felt him lure her towards him. Clumsily, not caring she was naked, she stood in the congealing bath water, which was now cold and had caused her to judder and shake. Haphazardly, she clamoured out and, with arms outstretched, made her way towards to the mysterious stranger.
How did she know him? Why did she feel like she knew him so well? How was he able to enter her home? She'd have had to know him to permit him to enter. She was certain she'd never met him before, let alone give apparating rights to the ambiguous figure she felt so very drawn to.
She felt her slippery arms enclose around his neck and pull him into a tight embrace. It was so right. She'd forgotten grieving her lover for that moment and the completeness she felt with. . . "Draco. . ."
And before he could reply he disappeared and she crumbled to the floor, having no support. Was she going insane? Suddenly memories of Draco not returning home hit her once more with the force of the Knight Bus in a particularly tight corner. And yet, somehow, she didn't feel quite so in pain anymore, in fact, she felt whole again and oddly peaceful. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it tightly around herself and sat on her bathroom floor shivering from the cold, but feeling okay; physical pain couldn't affect her now. . .
Ten minutes later she heard pops all around her home.
"Ginny!"
"Ginny!"
"Gin!"
Harry. Ron. Hermione.
"Ginny, darling."
Mum.
"We found Draco, he's alright - he's alive!"
They discovered the redhead on the floor, soaking wet and slimy, and covered in her own grime and tears. Although they'd never understood that night's events Ginny and Draco didn't care to. It had happened and that's what counted. Somewhere deep down, Ginny was petrified that if she questioned the divinity too much about that night's events, they would reconsider and take away her love again. She could not bare that pain once more, so it would be left alone; left to her secret silent ponderings.
She knew she'd seen a man that was her Draco, despite there was no trace of physical resemblance. And she also knew that Draco's soul - and a piece of hers too, she'd warrant - had left the Earth that night but something - someone - had brought it back. And for that, she'd be eternally thankful.
Oh night divine
Oh night divine
Author's Note:
So, it's something a little different.
Written as a present - A VERY LATE CHRISTMAS PRESENT - to my wonderful beta, Lyndsie. =]]
This, itself, was beta'd by gnderrode who is also pretty damn fabulous ;]]
Review, please.
It makes me smile lots : )
Tash x