Unofficial Portkey Archive

Life and Times

Rating: R

Ship: HHr (main emphasis)

The (unlovely) procedure: all rights go to JKR for previous plot and characters, Scholastic, Warner, and whoever else has their hands in HP.

…Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end - Luna Lovegood

***

Chapter Seventy-one - Ritual

***

Berlin, Germany

"…Heute morgen Top-Schlagzeilen: Burger rund um Berlin sind helle Lichter am Himmel zu sehen. Einige Leute nennen sie UFOs, andere betrachten sie Engel. Eine Person sagte ein Journalist, dass sie tatsachlich aus ihrer Heimat einen Mann Panik erlebt und dann plotzlich in Flammen aufging."

***

Rome, Italy

"...Gruppi di persone nei pressi del Vaticano questa mattina hanno riferito di aver visto le luci che appaiono nel cielo. Alcuni pensavano che era stato un tuono, ma abbiamo ancora avuto una tempesta in giorni e questa mattina senza pioggia e stato previsto. Un aiuto di persone che hanno visto una donna con le luci provenienti dagli occhi, urlando, con il braccio che era in fiamme. Ma in un batter d'occhio, la donna non c'era piu frenetico."

***

Paris, France

"…Un homme a ete capture sur bande video ce matin par un voyageur de l'exterieur du pays. Qu'est-ce deplie est devenu plus propre. L'homme, apparemment decontractee, tout a coup a ete prise par le feu. Les cris, le voyageur a dit. Est la chose la plus horrible qu'il ait jamais entendu. Les memes lumieres ont ete vus au-dessus de Paris ce matin, la documentation phenomene aujourd'hui dans le monde entier de ces lumieres etranges dans le ciel. L'armee est invesitagating actuelle."

***

Madrid, Spain

"…Luces ilumino el cielo hoy, con lo que los coches a un punto muerto en la autopista. La gente aqui en Madrid, levantarse para ir al trabajo, se quedaron de pie, con los ojos hacia arriba. Algunos periodistas han dicho que los ciudadanos han visto a la gente en el fuego con luces brillantes que vienen de ellos. La gente ha estado llamando a los extranos, extranjeros del espacio exterior, con un resplandor de fuego antes de que se queme a cenizas. Lo que esta pasando el gobierno esta poniendo fin a la misma. Tienen una investigacion sobre la forma y estan diciendo a la gente a mantener la calma."

***

Atlanta, Georgia, USA

"…Strange events have been happening worldwide. The FBI and CIA have called on an immediate investigation. The military has been scrambled to high-populated hotspots. In New York City, people have seen lights appearing in the skies and on the ground. One man, a tourist, captured a video on his cellular phone when a man and woman in Times Square instantly burst into light, and then caught on fire. The bizarre occurrences happened all at once, calls recorded coming in at the same time on every continent. President Bush is set to speak in a few hours after he is briefed, some citing a possible terrorist attack gone awry after the events unfolded last September."

***

London, England

"…Unidentified flying objects? Space creatures? An attack? No one really knows what is going up there. The military is taken flight and Prime Minister Blair has been in communication with our friends overseas. Almost every major city in the world has seen these lights. A passenger in a car captured this on his mobile phone driving into work this morning. What looks like several balls of light explode in the air, and then vanish. They were visible even as the sun rose causing quite the stir, making the drive a long and arduous one for everyone. People in London also saw people explode into lights and disappear from sight. This has caused a bit of a ruckus in the more populated areas and local police are on the scene. Prime Minister Blair has asked everyone to be on the lookout for any suspicious activities."

***

Violet Hill

A group of wizards and witches run, throwing back hexes, curses at the Death Eaters at their heels. Above them, the war isn't over. Purplish-black contrails zoom in and out of the hundreds of Dark Marks licking the skies. Aurors continue their fight, as well as their allies, and the Goblins, too, on the ground.

One of the witches stumbles on debris, having been running backward as she threw a counter-curse, defending herself against yet another Avada Kedavra. She falls to the ground, her eyes enlarging as the Death Eaters bear down on her ready to strike. The group notice and run back to save the lone woman, not forgotten, and in time to see the most curious of things happen.

One Death Eater, his arm raised, wand poised to strike again with green at its tip, suddenly stops. They all stop, the sooty, foul smoke flowing forward by its momentum. The group is stunned, hastily gathering the woman and her robes up as they watch the Death Eater's eyes grow. They begin to hack like their choking, grasping at their throats, their bodies, their arms.

One tears clean his robe sleeve, and they see the Dark Mark on the Death Eater's arm clear as day. The tattoo writhes, the veins in the arm pulse at the surface. The Death Eater holds it, squeezes it as she screams like the rest in tandem. One falls to the rubble ground, and the next, the next, like dominos. A pure white light breaks from their eyes, their mouths, cracking their skin like glass where even more light pours forth from their black cloaks.

Around them the group watches Death Eaters fall from the skies, their wails, the blood-curdling yells as bright lights pop where once Death Eater's stood. They watch their very flesh burn away like fire to paper, the light suffocating them from breath.

In mere seconds nothing is left but their robes, dark robes falling from rooftops and the sky, floating down empty.

The witch who fell gazes up towards the sky, at the sound of silence filling her ears, the scene of Dark Marks fading. The swirling ebon clouds break, canyons of sunlight open as those surrounding her witness the dawn.

A dawn of a brand new day.

***

Within the Auror-hospital wing of the Ministry

Luna awoke in a low wheeze, a gasp.

Her silvery grey eyes went wide as she adjusted to the barely lit room. Her eyes went to a fan overhead, and lights scarcely lit. Just heard beeping, a noise at her ear, a chiming, a buzzing, until she looked over and saw the crimson sight of a dark-skinned man. He was at her side, knelt down to her height on the hospital bed, her golden crown on a pillow.

She went to move, but was stopped not only the tubes connected to her, but by her head. She let out a weak breath.

"Vaeri ply tyli…," He placed his cool hand atop her forehead. Only then did she feel the tight bandage. He looked from her, to the bandage, and back again. "Don't move, sister. You've been injured."

"What happened…?" Luna went to strain her neck. She'd been lying still for a while, her muscles stiff. "The Quibbler-"

"We were attacked, sister."

"Balthier…"

Balthier frowned, his face sullen, his eyes tired.

Luna lifted her hand and placed it on the Elf's cheek.

His sight was instantly brought back by her warmth.

"I apologize for not doing my duty in protecting you."

Luna shook her head, the pull of her IV tugging on her hand as she stroked the Elf's cheek.

"Sister…?" Balthier's gaze went to her cheek.

A single tear fell.

"Let me cry for you, sister. I failed you-"

Luna took her hand from Balthier's cheek and wiped the tear from her eyes. She rotated her hand, the tear sparkling in what little light kept in the room. Her eyes grew wide.

Alice, her smile, appeared from the glinting tear, but then her affectionate image dissolved, fragmenting.

The tear dropped from her hand and struck her chest.

She instantly felt something-a hurt in her heart.

"Sister!"

The beeping grew louder and faster.

Her heart raced.

She looked at Balthier from her side.

Her lips trembled.

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

Balthier leapt backward when the Healers swept into the room, Luna's drastic change bringing flashing lights and sirens for them to come to her aid.

"Balthier!" her form shook, jerking, jolting.

The Healer's were talking, but nothing made sense, their confounded speech coming off as one, single monotonous voice.

Her eyes kept on the Dark Elf as the medical teams were frantically trying to calm her down.

"Alice-Aedi-where is she?!"

Luna didn't even see the syringe being prepped.

"Hold her still-hold her down firm!"

The hospital bed shook violently.

"I'm trying! She's struggling too hard!"

"I can't keep her arm down!"

"Shh… Miss Lovegood, Miss Lovegood…"

"The needle's primed!"

The syringe was injected into her arm, a thick, white liquid delivered slowly and steady. One Healer held her shoulder down, another her forearm facing up. Seven Healers together fought to stabilize this one, lithe little girl and all the unknown strength she brought.

"Where is she, Balthier?!" Luna's outcry could be heard down several hallways.

Balthier suddenly felt it, too, hearing a sharp howl in the winds. He put his hand to his heart and stumbled backwards, falling against the wall and tripping over instruments, chairs. Balthier could hear the saddened cries of Mother Earth in deep remorse, like a wolf crying over her killed pup.

***

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place

I saw Harry in the distance.

I could almost feel him, touch him, in slow motion with my hand out.

I could see around myself, at the destruction of some place. A bluish hint of light, and darkness. Harry emboldened the light, his tint, a halo above his head. I've got to reach him, I thought. He can't be dead-he isn't dead. I see him!

And, just as I was about to touch him…

I awoke in bed.

A ringing in my head, I couldn't figure out what it was-where I was. My sight blurry, my vision flittered, zooming out and then back in as I looked about the room. Something didn't feel right, and as hard as I tried to remember… I was home? How did I get home? I'd been over at Gin's new apartment… Harry… Harry!

I sat straight up, and as I pushed up felt something under my hand.

My eyes focused, going down to a rather ugly and gross mismatch of sewn together leather. Or was it skin…? I quickly took my hand from it, the piece of folded parchment dropping atop the horrible surface. The parchment had been stuck to the palm of my hand. Just as I was about to open it, curious as to what, when, how…? I heard the telephone ring again.

That was the blasted ringing I'd been hearing!

I leaned over against the bed and inched my hand to the phone. Quickly I picked it up. Between my confusion and disorientation, I'd grown quite the headache. I held my head with one hand while the other held the phone to my ear.

Quietly, I asked, "…Hello?"

"Hermione?"

"Ginny?"

"Thank Merlin!"

"Don't shout…," I closed my eyes, the headache pounding after Gin's excitement.

"Sorry `Mi," Gin's voice settled. "…That's odd, I woke with a searing headache too just now."

"You just woke up?"

"Yeah-and I don't feel right. Like I'm missing something; like I've forgotten a lot. But, in a way…it's like we-"

"Have never left," I said as she said, too.

"Odd," we both said in tandem.

"Did you still need to go to the library?"

"Library…?" The headache caught right between the eyes. "No-not anymore. I think I found the book I've wished to find."

"You did? When? Why'd you leave me alone in my apartment? I told you to call me before you left! You weren't in great shape when you left here yesterday! You just stormed off without saying anything! You could've been hurt!"

"Yeah, sorry…," I looked over at the disgusting tome, filthy, and was that…blood? "Christ! I think I'm bleeding somewhere!"

"'Mi! You're bleeding?! I told you-!"

Gin's voice trailed off as I checked myself over.

My jeans had no splotches.

My shirt wasn't discoloured.

I felt in my hair for something wet, my face, looked over my arms-my feet where I had only one shoe on…? Nothing.

"I'm fine-I'm fine." Gin had gone berserk on the other end.

"I'm either coming over there or you're coming here, `Mi. That's final."

"Come over…," I went to get out of bed and looked at the time. It was morning. I guessed I had a long night… Maybe the red stain on the sheets wasn't blood, I thought, looking back. Maybe it was wine? But, where's the glass? The more I pondered, the more the inside of my head throbbed.

"I'll open the Floo." I whispered.

"All right, love. I'll grab some pain medicine on the way out. Be there in a minute."

***

"Isn't it a little weird how the Floo network is down?"

Gin and I sat on the floor in the den. The telly was on giving us light, but all we could find were the Muggle channels. All of the wizarding world's stations held a static black screen stating, "We apologize for technical difficulties! Your current broadcast will convene shortly!" On the news station a time-lapse for the weather repeated itself and nothing else. Crookshanks was in my Indian-style lap, purring, my hand on his head. Whenever I had left him he went after me, rubbing on me wherever he could as if he hadn't seen me for a while.

I kept saying, "Crookshanks, love! Give mommy a rest!"

But, he continued rubbing against me.

I finally addressed Gin when I calmed the tiny furball's anxiousness. "And, the Quibbler hasn't arrived this morning. At least Nolpho's gone, eh? There's some good news from yesterday."

"'Bout time we recalled the rat. I didn't like him."

"Everyone thought he was a Death Eater-the lot."

"Now he's scurried back in his hole somewhere…"

"Serves him right."

Gin had the tome in her lap, perusing the sickly, old pages. Each page would crinkle if not turned by light touch; and, at anytime we thought the pages would crumble in her hands. After a while Gin just set the tome down and went to the parchment. "'Mi…"

"Hm?" I glanced up from my frenzied Kneazle turning around and around in my lap to sit down.

"…From what I understand…and please tell me if I'm wrong, you are smarter than me…"

"Gin…don't say things like that. You know I hate it when you put yourself down. You're just as smart as everyone else."

She went from the opened parchment and back to me where she stared our distance apart. "…Isn't this considered Dark Arts? I keep reading things about necromancy in the-"

"I don't need to be told what I already know," I bit at her. This wasn't the time; and in that flash my wants and needs were traipsed upon. I knew she didn't mean it that way…it only came that way from me because I was too close. Too close in seeing Harry. "I know exactly what it is-and the consequences of the ritual."

"You've written here… Ingredients… A portion of yourself-your blood, love? A ritual involving…your blood? That doesn't seem at all-"

"Enough, Gin." I stood up, and at my heels carried Crookshanks. I folded my arms.

Gin's eyes set upwards. "What if he turns into one of those things-Inferi? A demon?"

"He won't."

"What if he-"

"He won't!"

We stared down each other, my ferocity versus her worry.

In a beat, she looked down, and then back up again. She whispered into the silence, "…Are you really willing to kill him if he's risen as a monster?"

"Name me another way! Name me another way and we can go from there! Can you name me another way!?"

Gin just stared.

"Well, can you!" I further hugged myself, peeved.

I wanted her support-that was all I asked.

So when she spoke up again, I side-stepped, my mind frozen.

"'Mi…," she began. "You know I'd give you the moon. You know I'd help you in any way I can. I will help you. You're my girl."

After a pause, after the buzzing settled in my ears, the headache's pulse lowering a notch, did I say in another whisper, "Thank you. That's all I ask."

"I'm just concerned, love…," Gin went to stand, dusting herself off.

"Why? Because `if it fails-`?"

"Because if it fails and you do nothing-I'll have to take him down myself. I won't let you get killed over this. I will intervene."

I kept quiet, my eyes planted on hers. She was my best friend. I knew where she was coming from… But, the fact that she'd… He… He may… He could very well be resurrected as that-an Inferi-built to destroy, to kill… To kill me. I wished it not; but knew all magicks, especially the Dark Arts, could irrevocably backfire… And, that would be the end. Harry would be…

"You won't have to."

"Hermione…"

"If something happens…," I blinked away forming tears. "I'll take care of it."

***

What I didn't tell her was the truth.

Telling the truth… She wouldn't allow me. She'd do everything in her power to stop me. I couldn't be interrupted. I couldn't destabilize the cleansed area atop Harry's earthly plot. I'd already told her too much, and telling her… She mustn't stop me.

For Harry wouldn't be the one who was on the receiving end of the Dark Magic.

No, I would be the one taken control of if by any consequence.

I'd become that demon Ginny described, and she would have to kill me.

I was willing to sacrifice myself.

I'd already lost so much.

I didn't know how exactly I'd come of this knowledge. I remember… Did I go to the library? I went to…something dark, the smell of death… I recall petitioning Hogwarts. There, I knew the Forbidden Section would ultimately have what I needed. But…would it have this? Would it have the means of creating life? Wouldn't Dumbledore… Did Ron go with me? Alice…?

I held my head in my hands. The headache took precedence again.

"How many crystals?"

I peeked from between two fingers, my hand shielding away the light of our apothecary cupboard.

I held up my hand and Ginny counted five.

"The medicine hasn't kicked in yet?" she asked whilst pulling varying sized crystals from the shelves and putting them in a cloth sack.

I went to get salt, and handed it to her as I shook my head. "I'm trying to think-"

"Well, there's your problem!" She laughed a little, retrieving the glass container of salt from me.

I smiled. "In all my years, you'd think I'd realize that I was only hurting myself!"

Ginny laughed again, but became stationary, resolved when she saw me take the knife I would be using. She looked at the silvery shine in my hands, the ebony grip, the carved bit of a lion's head between the metals. I went to give the knife to her like everything else on the grocery list…but, stopped when she did.

We gazed at each other in our pauses.

I knew she wanted to tell me how much of a fool I was and how foolish this endeavor would be.

"Resurrecting the dead"-how nonsensically irrational. Right?

My eyes left her drawn stare. "Hand me the bag," I demanded listlessly.

Her grip of the cloth bag continued just as her quiet stare did.

"Please?" I asked, looking back up at her through that bit of loosened strands across my face.

Hesitantly, she did so, and in went the knife.

Silence kept while we resumed our gatherings, Ginny less attuned now than ever.

I went to cheer the mood a little, a bit of light-hearted quip. "How mad is it that we can find everything we need for such a ritual on any ordinary apothecary shelf? It's-"

"Not," Gin cut off my jesting, our eyes furtively meeting. She spoke with astuteness. "Everything."

I felt the coldest of chills from her, but shook them off.

My sight went back to the jars in the cupboards. "We've got to get to Godric's Hollow before the predicted rain."

"Isn't a storm a sign, `Mi?"

I glanced at her a moment, but stubbornly withdrew away from her gaze.

***

"Isn't it a bit ironic?"

Gin stood off to the side of where Harry lay at rest. She looked between his tombstone, and that of the church and the merriment we heard far down the road from a pub. I didn't bother as much to identify her awareness. My mind was set upon lining the outskirts in a circle with the salt, the white remnant pouring like snow against the dark, crisp grass.

A cold breeze blew through the graveyard, and Ginny rubbed the sides of her jumper. She looked up at the sky, at the bare trees, all but sticks of what was left of them. She looked beyond that at a clouded sky, the moonlight just seen through a crack. She heard a dog bark and she jumped at the loud noise. "For the love of Merlin!"

I glanced at her when the salt had run out, and then in direction of the howling.

"I can do this alone if it's causing you this much distress."

"Yeah, sure-let me get right on that, Hermione."

"Then get a hold of yourself!" That bit of old-fashioned Granger let herself out.

"Sorry," I said, passing her planted form. I gave her a smile, but the smile faded. I had to concentrate. I couldn't babysit her.

"What do you want me to do now?" she asked.

I had my hands in the cloth sack. "Here-the crystals. Make a star out of the five, one in the farthest corners."

When I left her with pieces of wood in my hands did she notice how I took precaution in not stepping on the hallowed spot of my beloved.

"I'll work around the perimeter."

As I knelt at his gravestone I glanced up at Ginny and how meticulous she went about not stepping on him. I smiled, however slightly, and went about piling the bundle at the foot of his name. I withdrew my wand, closed my eyes and besought a flame. Instantly, the tiny pyre lit, and when I opened my eyes did I see his name in the dancing flicker. Shadows were brought to the indentations, the imprint of "Harold James Potter" and that of his birth and date of death.

"Tell me if I'm going about this all wrong…" I whispered low enough so Ginny couldn't hear.

In the back of my mind I had that small voice screaming at how wrong this could all become and quickly. I placed my hand upon his stone and waited for a sign. I closed my eyes again and listened. The sounds of Ginny's shoes and the breaking of frigid grass become my audio. I tried to block her out, tried to hone in on Harry, maybe his voice, something…

And, nothing came.

The wind had died down.

The dog quit barking.

And the joyous spirits had closed.

"Hermione?"

My eyes went open, and I looked over at Ginny.

"I've been calling you now for a while."

I looked back at the stone, and then stood from kneeling. I brushed my knees off and carried away with the next task.

"The crystals are in place."

I took the book from the cloth sack and reexamined the area. My eyes went towards the image I had crudely drawn, and back to my present atmosphere. I noted all but the final ingredient prepared, and that of the glinting knife still in the bag.

"I still don't like this, Hermione…"

I took the knife from the bag and walked over to his tombstone trancelike. My mind meditated, clearing oneself from the horrors, the stress, and the negativity. Or, I tried, that scream inside my head there still, but weaker.

I knelt down and sat at the flame.

Gin watched me from a distance first, but when she saw me digging up the earth with my hands did she follow.

"Is this part of the ritual?"

I didn't ignore her, but I didn't respond.

The fire shined in my sight, giving me enough light to see. I ran my hand across the knife's blade, rubbing the black, muddy dirt along its mirrored sheen. I saw myself in reflection, but the soil tarnished the double.

"The phial of water, Gin-from the bag."

Gin fished through the sack and obtained the crystal clear container not but two inches high and a centimeter in width.

The glow brandished against her skin, having it aglow like mine, as she uncorked the phial and reached across the site. I took it from her and let drip the contents empty, the blade thoroughly sodden of mire.

My eyes set on the blade and what was to come, I reached back out my hand and Ginny took the emptied phial.

"Hermione."

I didn't answer, hovering the blade now over the pyre's small flame. I watched how the flames licked the blade, catching bits of what could have been foliage on fire and leaving the rest to cake, dry. The dirt shed itself and fell, bringing sudden life to the miniature fire.

"Hermione!"

Ginny's whispered shout had me look at her finally.

The fire's bloom gave way to shadows where the afterglow was too frightened to stray.

Her features were concerned, her hands fighting to contain themselves in her lap.

"We're nearly there…," I had the book between us, spread open to the page of the chant.

"…What part of this feels right?"

I didn't respond, Harry's stubbornness fairly captured in my own personality.

"Stand with me, Ginny-I need you," I went on my knees.

Ginny shuddered at my mention of "need," and followed suit, standing on her knees.

"Open your hands out, palms facing me."

She did as told, but cried in a hushed tone, "…Shouldn't we be seeking others to help?"

"No one else would understand," I gazed into her sight, and she, too. "No one would understand how I feel-how I feel right now after coming so far, being so close."

A wind blew between us, my hand lowering, the point of the knife just below my left hand's index finger. I held myself to watch, the unwavering, slow line I made diagonally across the centre. Ginny winced for me, her eyes wide when the first spot of blood was seen and then its drip down and around my jumper's cuff.

I let out a pent-up huff, a sigh, seeing myself flowing freely from my cut flesh.

"You're going to have to do my other hand."

"What?!"

I went to try and close my left hand but gasped at just how painful, and deep, I had cut myself.

"We have to stop-we have to get you back-"

"No!"

The winds between us picked up.

The strands beneath my knitted cap blew freely along my shoulders.

"Do it!" I had tears in my eyes when I looked at Gin. The pain washed my senses, the majority of my hand now red, the sleeve of my jumper wet with blood. I pleaded to her. "Do it for Harry-for me-or I'll-!"

I went to do it myself, the knife closing into my right hand, my left shaking and slippery-when it was dutifully taken from me.

"I love you, Hermione…," she cut me open, my right hand like my left. I held back my tears, trying not to let it overcome her let alone me.

I let out another sharp gasp, and Gin threw the blade on the ground. "It's done!" she said, angry. "It's done-let's do it! I need to get you back home and healed! Why I even-!"

Through welled tears did I say, "I love you, Gin."

Gin's rant halted, her sight back on me.

"Don't…don't look at me like that…say things like that…"

"Take my hands-please."

Hesitant, Gin lightly grasped me, sliding her fingers between mine and resting securely on the webbings.

I closed my eyes and began. Only the image of my Love in my mind's eye:

Shaeraer shi sai cos!

Si Tharaes!

Cys!

Salyl!

Cycael os mael!

Gin, her eyes opened, witnessed the winds ripping around us. The trees ached, and wailed, branches falling off its appendages and down. A light formed our surroundings, where I had laid down the salt became a shell, a white, transparent barrier between us and them. A shot of lightning got her attention overhead, and when she looked saw a swirling mass of grey clouds above our position.

Shol ialai ti shar ai cali jhyr!

Tia jhyli!

Tia myr!

Tia aelaeseirol!

Shol ialai ti oli tysi!

Another flash of lightning began the rain. A light between her and Hermione drew Ginny's gaze back to her. Between their hands sought light, breeching the slits, nearly blinding the Weasley. The ground beneath them shook, and surrounding them parts of the earth begun to sever. The flame's orange-red hue went from yellow to green, brightening from the centre and out till the fire flittered white.

Eil tae ci shi shys eindral eilearn!

Os jhoraaerdyr!

Thys ti!

The white flame for the pyre set us alight. At first, becoming alit you're first instinct is to flee, to put it out; this fire, however, became warmth, and loving. Gin could feel a pulse, and she thought it working, brilliantly working! She laughed, not out of humor, but out of wanted relief, of all her hesitation becoming no more, and all the hope becoming-

The fire blackened, and at once the rain washed in.

"Stupefy!"

Before Gin could react, she was blown back by the spell. Her hands immediately released from Hermione's grasp. Hermione, even in the face of assault-so close-set her bloody hands to Harry and said aloud:

Tia shaelylaer!

Eil cor-!

Or what she could before being hit by another spell and instantly blown backward against a nearby gravestone.

My eyes opened, having been taken for ride midair and crashed against stone. I shook my head, coming out of the daze, my world but a blur when my head hit. I saw what remained of the ritual, the white fire black-and flames-flames!

"The book!" I shouted into thunder, the raindrops whipping in my face. "NO!!!"

The ritual had drained me. I tried to stand from my crumpled state, to get to the book, to at least get my wand to put out the fire-

When I saw a pair of eyes, and a smile, the gleam of their whites in the midnight.

"Pathetic, stupid girl!"

I felt something hit my stomach, the black mass coming in and swinging something at me. I gasped, and went for air, having rolled over. I went to get up again, to stand, to feel the same pound in my side-a shoe, a boot, stomping me back to the muddied grounds.

I was picked up by my hair and made to look into the eyes of the man.

"I'm going to have my way with you first, then when I'm done," the man spat in my face. "I'll have my way with you again, and again, and again until I'm satisfied!"

I was tossed over on my back, tears streaming down my cheeks with the rainwater.

I felt my jeans being unbuttoned in haste, a pair of hands on me as I tried to cry out and fight.

I felt as if in slow motion, and without strength, I merely went about pushing him with what little else I had left in me.

I heard him laughing, my jeans being tugged down, my hips, legs, my entire form being jostled in the muck.

"Damn-you look even better when you're filthy!" I heard the man's laugh again, closer, and then his lips press upon mine.

I shook my head away, and again when he slapped me, struggling to breathe while he took away any breath.

In the moment, I knew not of my fate-or why I was brought here. I thought of Harry, and how I only wanted to see him once more. This was it, I thought. I'd get my wish… I'd die. I'd kill myself before this monster could… I reached for my wand however gradually. The wand lay just out of arm's length. I could see it when the lightning would strike.

I had the wand at my fingertips, being pressed upon, a hand at my knickers.

"Avada Kedavra!"

I had my wand in my grasp…

…And, the man stopped at once.

He fell atop me, and over in a heap.

In my debilitated state, a film over my vision, I flushed the gathered rain in my eyes in blink to see… a saturated, soggy Weasley-red on her hands and knees. She hadn't much strength, too, crawling her way over to me. Her wand had been pointed towards me, but then it fell, pushing forward in the mud. She grabbed hold of me, and that's when I saw her blood, that she was bleeding somewhere as well.

"Ginny…" called out from the enervated husk of what was left of me.

I saw her clutch me, felt her cradle me to her.

She caressed my forehead with her lips and held me as I cried.

We had lost everything…

"Hold onto me…," she told me in a breath.

I caught what little of her jumper's cotton material I could, hugging her as she did me, and we vanished…

Leaving ashes of what once was my only hope.

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