Well of Shadows
Hogwarts Under Siege
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Twenty Two
~ Hogwarts Under Siege ~
Cold.
Penetrating to the very core of his being.
So cold.
***
Not far from the besieged Hogwarts, a man and a woman watched events unfold, the latter with a bit less patience than her husband.
"Now?"
"No. A little longer."
***
Dumbledore looked on with dismay as Voldemort began cursing Ginny Weasley. Up until a few minutes earlier the headmaster had been almost convinced that she would accomplish her goal of recovering Harry and returning safely to the castle. But before she could reach him, Voldemort had stepped before her and, for reasons he had hoped she would resist, Ginny had turned to face him.
Before succumbing to her desire for revenge Ginny had been proceeding magnificently. Dumbledore had been following her progress closely for the passed year or two, ever since she had started to grow closer to Harry. If anything her prowess on the battlefield against the various vampires, zombies, trolls, goblins and Death Eaters was beyond his expectations.
Even Snape had been impressed and, considering the Potions Master's animosity towards Ginny, that was saying something.
Now, however, she had fallen to a ruse of the Dark Lord's and was writhing on the ground in an agony Dumbledore had hoped she --and all the rest of his students-- would never experience. With a monumental sigh he reached for the slender bracelet encircling his wrist and called upon the school's deputy headmistress.
"Minerva, have you had any lucky contacting Mister Potter yet?"
"I'm afraid not, Professor," came McGonagall's prompt reply. "Either he is too badly injured to reply or his bracelet has, as the Muggles would say, 'shorted out'."
Hermione Granger's voice added, "He might not be hurt, just unconscious."
Dumbledore turned away from the scene transpiring on the grounds, wanting to focus all of his attention on finding some way to help the two students --three if you included Draco-- trapped below. "I pray that is the case, Miss Granger. Unfortunately we still cannot make out any details through the smoke and debris."
"Forget bloody Harry for a moment, will you?!" snapped Ron Weasley's intangible voice, his anxiety clearly audible. He sounded quite frantic as he urged, "We have to get my sister away from that monster!"
"Patience lad, we're working on it," replied Halleck, his eyes not straying from where Ginny was been tortured by Voldemort.
Ron's retort was succinct. "Work faster, then."
Professor Snape hissed angrily and snapped, "Be quiet, Weasley. Your asinine comments are not helping the situation."
"Please, both of you," said Dumbledore, cutting off the argument before it could develop more fully. He sighed minutely and leaned back against the stone rampart. "Now is not the time for such arguments. Rest assured, Ronald, that we are doing our best."
"Just hurry, sir. Please," pleaded Ron.
Before he could provide any further comfort, another Auror hurried over to where the headmaster stood. Thufir Hawat, an old and grizzled-looking wizard, came to a rest next to Idaho and Halleck, pressing at a stitch in his side. After he caught his breath, Hawat reported unhappily, "They're resuming their assault. Apparently the spectacle is over."
Idaho, who had not turned from watching Voldemort torture Ginny, asked calmly, "Where?"
"Everywhere," answered Hawat. "All along the walls facing out to the forest."
"Severus? Anything we should know?" asked Dumbledore, directing everyone's attention to the brooding Potions Master.
Snape shook his head. "Not much. You-Know-Who has always been particular about not including me in any of the details regarding his plans for attacking the school."
Hermione asked, "Why's that? I mean, Professor, I thought having seen you push Harry off the Astronomy Tower last year had convinced him you were loyal."
"Severus?" prompted Dumbledore when Snape did not immediately answer.
"He does trust me - within limits," admitted Snape. Clearly he was displeased to make the admission as he unconsciously clenched his hands into fists. "But not enough to risk the possibility that his enemies might somehow trick me into revealing his plans."
"He's learning," remarked Hawat knowingly. The senior Auror, who had a great deal of experience under his belt dating from Voldemort's first rise to power, waved a hand to indicate the grounds and everything happening around them. "You-Know-Who definitely wasn't so tactically sound in his actions during his previous reign of terror."
Snape sneered faintly and noted, "He's had a long time to think."
"We, on the other hand, don't have nearly as much time," said Halleck, standing stolidly at Idaho's side. His features were drawn into a grim mask. "The girl won't last much longer, I fear."
"Virginia is strong-willed enough to resist Voldemort's torture long enough for us to at least make the attempt to free her," Dumbledore maintained, pushing off from his resting place and looking out over the grounds once again.
"How?" asked Idaho, running a weary hand through his thick black hair. "Unless something's happened that the rest of us aren't aware of, the anti-Apparation wards around Hogwarts are still up. The same for Malfoy's anti-Portkey ward. We can't go down to mount a rescue."
It was Ron's pressing voice that supplied an answer, albeit a daring one. "Not unless we lower the Shield Barriers."
"Which is out of the question, you imbecile boy!" barked Snape after everyone had stood for a moment while the suggestion sank in. "That would be opening the school for all of You-Know-Who's forces to storm inside."
Dumbledore, however, nodded thoughtfully and said, "The idea has merit."
Snape rounded on the headmaster, disbelief etched on his face. "WHAT?!"
"Excuse me, Auror Idaho?" interrupted Hermione's voice before anything more could be said.
Idaho sighed and answered, "We're a little busy right now, Miss Granger."
Hermione persisted, "I know that, but I thought you should know that You-Know-Who seems to be concentrating a large number of the remaining goblins by the North Tower. There's quite a few trolls with siege ladders heading that way as well."
"He must be planning to scale the walls there," said Halleck.
"Or else it might be a diversion," suggested Hawat, who had a tendency of seeing plans within plans within plans wherever he looked. He was, after all, of the same generation of Aurors as Alastor Moody. "Forcing us to spread our troops thin in an attempt to protect against a feint and thus opening us up to assault elsewhere."
"Either way, we can't risk it," decided Idaho crisply. He reached for his bracelet and called, "Hayes, do you hear me?"
A soft but firm female voice quickly replied, "Yes, sir."
Idaho gazed down the length of Hogwarts' battlements. "You-Know-Who's moving his mercenaries against the North Tower. I want you to take Hunter, Sterling and Dickson to reinforce Fokker's squad."
"Understood."
"Now that that's taken care of can we get back to the important stuff?" asked Ron impatiently. His voice rose with each word until he was all but shouting. "Like rescuing my sister before You-Know-Who kills her?!"
"Please, Ronald, try to calm yourself," Dumbledore said. He looked pensively to where Ginny was lying, Voldemort and one of his Death Eaters standing on either side of her. For the moment it seemed that she had been released from the Cruciatus Curse, probably so that Voldemort could be sure she heard him as he gloated.
Dumbledore frowned a bit as he considered Ron's earlier suggestion that they lower the school's shields. After looking at the idea from several angles he asked, "Miss Granger, it is my understanding that one of the modifications Harry and Virginia made to Hogwarts' defences is the ability to lower individual sections of the shield barriers."
Hermione's voice was puzzled, but she answered promptly enough, "That's right."
Dumbledore nodded, pleased, and continued, "Then, would it not be possible to create an opening on the far side of the castle from Voldemort's forces, say by the lake?"
"And once the rescue party is outside we can seal it up again, yes!" finished Hermione, quickly working out what the headmaster had in mind.
"I have a spot that would be perfect, headmaster," announced McGonagall after several seconds of silence descended over those assembled.
With the faintest traces of a smile curling his lips Dumbledore turned to where Idaho was nodding thoughtfully, mulling over the idea, and said, "Then, Duncan, might I suggest you assemble a team. I think it best they be volunteers."
Idaho snorted and half laughed. "I think I'd better choose them myself. If I asked for volunteers to mount a rescue for Harry and Ginny, practically every Auror I have would step forward."
"True. The two of them do tend to endear themselves to others, don't they?" agreed Dumbledore amiably, ignoring a disparaging mutter from Snape. He waited a moment, allowing everyone to fully commit themselves to the plan, before adding in an offhand manner, "I, of course, will be accompanying your Aurors."
"Headmaster!"
"Albus!"
"Sir, I must protest!"
"Have you lost your senses?!"
Stifling a chuckle Dumbledore looked into Idaho's startled eyes and said in his firmest voice, which he usually reserved for recalcitrant students, "I might no longer be a spring chicken, nor am I as spry as I was in my youth, but I am the greatest asset you have in this battle, Duncan. And no, Severus, I have not taken leave of my senses. At least, not yet."
Idaho shook his head. "But, sir, that's precisely the reason we need to keep you here on the walls with the rest of us. My people can handle You-Know-Who's lot if they can sneak through the edge of the forest and use the element of surprise. I'm not going to allow you to put yourself in unnecessary danger."
"And if I have decided that it is, as you put it, necessary?" asked Dumbledore quietly.
"Regardless, you are of greater strategic value than Miss Weasley," countered Hawat, stepping forward. "In the scheme of things she is less important than-"
Ron's voice, loud, angry and indignant, interrupted him. "MY SISTER IS NOT LESS IMPORTANT THAN ANYBODY, YOU BLOODY OLD-"
"Ron!" exclaimed Hermione, clearly attempting to calm the upset young man.
"This is why we should never have allowed Potter and his friends to act in such capacities," declared Snape scathingly. "Regardless of their knowledge, experience or whatever, they're nothing but children that are currently getting in the way and hindering our-"
"Severus. Thufir." Dumbledore raised his hands in a plea for quiet. When they had all stilled and waiting for him to speak he continued, "Select your team, Duncan, and have them assemble in the Great Hall. I will meet them there."
Idaho was clearly reluctant to permit it but seemed to realize that he had no other recourse available to him. Ducking his head in resignation he nodded his acquiescence. "I... very well, Headmaster."
Returning the head Auror's nod with one of his own, one of gratitude, Dumbledore turned to start making his way down to the Great Hall. Snape, he knew, wanted to follow him but instead remained with the Aurors and other teachers arrayed along the battlements. His position as a spy among the Death Eaters was too important to risk jeopardising himself by being seen actively helping in the recovery of Harry and Ginny.
When he was half way down the winding staircase he had taken, Ron's voice quietly spoke up. The fiery-tempered Weasley --as were the entire family-- sounded a bit apprehensive. "Professor Dumbledore?"
"Yes, Mister Weasley?" he asked, not pausing in his stride.
"I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn, sir."
"It is perfectly understandable, Ronald. Do not fret over it."
"Yes, Professor." There was a brief pause before Ron added, sounding very much relieved and also grateful, "Sir? Thank you. For going after her."
The headmaster smiled tiredly, "I can do nothing less."
He was nearly at the bottom of the stairs when he heard McGonagall's worried voice calling him over the bracelet on his wrist, "Albus? Are you sure this is a good idea? You going out with the Aurors?"
Dumbledore smiled roguishly this time and had to repress a laugh as he replied, with as good humour as he could muster, all things considered.
"Not really, Minerva, though I suppose there's only one way to find out."
***
Loud.
Piercing, shrieking and throbbing around him.
So loud.
***
A short distance away from the battle husband and wife continued to watch, the witch steadily becoming less willing to wait.
"Now?"
"No. When the time is right."
***
Ron was well on his way to having his sixth heart attack of the day. Maybe his seventh, as he had long since lost count. The cause for the young wizard's anxious state of mind was the fact that his sister, as well as his best friend, were both currently stuck in the middle of an extensive battle being waged on Hogwarts' doorstep. Harry was thus far 'Missing In Action' as Hermione had put it, while Ginny was suffering under You-Know-Who's malicious attentions.
The Situation Map, which dominated the Practical Fighting Techniques auditorium, was at the moment scaled to display everything within three quarters of a mile of the school. Working on the comprehensive suggestions Ron had compiled the last time Hogwarts had been attacked, the map was projecting fully three dimensional images of everything that was happening - which Hermione had said was called homeopathics or something similar.
At the moment, as his girlfriend came up beside him, Ron was standing over the part of the map representing the Lake. A ghostly image of the giant squid (about the size of his hand) appeared to be drifting near the heel of his left shoe.
"Are you sure you know what you have to do?" Hermione asked.
"Haven't the foggiest," he admitted, watching as a group of four cave trolls tried to lift a siege ladder against the school's wall. Professor Sinistra and a pair of Aurors managed to hold them off with an array of hexes and curses.
Hermione made a surprised noise and exclaimed, "That's not very reassuring!"
Ron shrugged before turning away from the miniature battlefield sprawled at his feet. "Sorry, but we've never had a chance to test this. Harry and I talked about it when he was going through the renovations with me, but it was purely theoretical."
"Mister Weasley?" Duncan Idaho's disembodied voice suddenly spoke up. "We're starting to encounter stiff opposition from the creatures trying to scale the walls. I think now's the time to bring the school's active defences into play."
"They're inside the outer perimeter defences," noted Hermione, "so there's no need to activate those."
"You'd better give your people some warning, sir," Ron said, walking to the desk Harry and Ginny shared to one side of the Situation Map. He picked up the thick book that was lying on it and began leafing through it. "Having the wall defences switch on all of a sudden might startle some of them."
"I'll pass the word along. Let us know when you're ready."
Professor McGonagall nodded and spoke briskly as she monitored the battle waging above them, "We'll begin once Professor Dumbledore and your Aurors are in position. That way the defences will act as a distraction when they leave the safety of the school and attempt to rescue Miss Weasley and Mister Potter."
Halleck's voice reported, "My squad and I are on our way to the Great Hall as you speak, Professor. From there it will be a short walk to the exit you suggested."
"We will be waiting for your call then," McGonagall told him.
"At least we know the defences work," Hermione muttered as she and McGonagall joined Ron by the desk.
Ron glanced up from reading the instruction manual and asked, "We do?"
Hermione looked at Ron as if that was the stupidest thing she had ever heard him ask in all the years they had known each other. "Of course we do," she told him confidently, before pausing for a moment. She looked at him uncertainly and asked, "Don't we?"
"Harry and Ginny say the defences work, but I've never seen them in action," Ron explained wearily. He resumed paging through the thick manual. "We haven't exactly had an invading army to test them on before now."
***
Pain.
Echoing through his mind and body... her pain.
It hurt.
Made him... angry?
It hurt him.
It hurt her.
Yes... angry.
Angry.
***
"Now?"
"You know we can't. We have to wait until it happens."
Hilary looked unhappily at her husband and ran both hands through her golden hair in agitation. She gazed out over the battlefield to where Voldemort and Wormtail stood victorious over Ginny's limp body. "If we wait much longer, Tom's going to melt my brain."
Gregory shook his head and placed a calming hand on his wife's shoulder. Turning his eyes to where Ginny lay trapped, Voldemort starting up another round of the Cruciatus Curse, he sighed and offered what comfort he could. "Don't worry, love. He'll be stopping to gloat again soon."
"Yippee," was her dry response. "Watch as I try to contain my enthusiasm."
***
"Foolish girl, did you honestly think you could defeat me?"
Ginny collapsed limply in the thick mud, her entire body quivering in the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse that Voldemort had just subjected her to. She wanted to move, desperately wanted to drag herself away from here, but the ropes binding her were too firm and too strong for her feeble struggles. Bitter tears stung her eyes as Ginny looked up to see Voldemort seemingly towering over her, Wormtail standing a pace or two behind him, his thin lipped mouth twisted in a haughty parody of a smile.
Struggling to catch her breath, her throat was raw from screaming, Ginny could not find the strength to do anything but watch as the Dark Lord raked his burning red eyes up and down her tightly bound body. Had it been anyone else, one of his Death Eaters perhaps, Ginny would have expected him to be ogling her with lecherous intent. Voldemort, however, was simply observing her with a cool, dispassionate interest - as if she were no more than a passing curiosity. Somehow that did not make her feel any better.
"Your power and abilities are great, I will not deny that," he admitted, his voice sounding silky smooth while he considered her. But then his eyes narrowed as he stood straighter and declared conceitedly, "But I am the greatest sorcerer that has ever lived! The battle between us was over before it even began."
"Y-yuh - you're not," Ginny managed to pant out, glaring up at him while she lay helpless on her side. Even with all the aches and remembered pain that currently suffused her, she was somehow able to convey her own burning hatred for this... thing.
"Not what, girl?" snapped Voldemort.
"Not the greatest sorcerer that's ever lived," answered Ginny, breathing fast. She knew that her words would incense him, and braced herself for the expected outcome. The smile had disappeared from Voldemort's thin face, vanishing so quickly it seemed almost as if it had never been there in the first place, to be replaced by a look of pure fury.
"Crucio!" he hissed, jabbing his wand at Ginny.
The pain rolled over her like a blanket, beyond anything she had imagined or felt before today. Ginny had heard about the horrors of the Cruciatus Curse from her parents, her teachers, the various members of the Order as well as from Harry (who had first experienced it during the third task of the Triwizard Tournament). She had believed, deep down inside herself, that after being joined to Harry and becoming bonded to the power of the Order, that she would be able to endure the worst the curse had to offer. She had quickly discovered, however, that she had never been more mistaken about anything.
None of what she had heard could possibly do justice to the sheer agony of it.
It seemed to last forever, though in reality Ginny knew it was probably only a few seconds. Then, with an abruptness that was almost painful in itself, the pain shrieking through her came to an end, leaving her shaking helplessly on the ground. Blinking back the tears and trying her utmost to ignore the throbbing that permeated her body, Ginny rolled onto her side and glared up at Voldemort, her teeth bared in a silent snarl.
*Do you have to bait him like this?* asked Miko, her voice sounding flat as if Ginny's ears were stopped up with a thick syrup.
Yes. Oh, god it hurts.
*Then don't bait him.* ordered Merlin sternly. *If you can regain enough focus to Apparate-*
Ginny interrupted him, stating flatly, I'm not abandoning Harry.
Swallowing repeatedly in an attempt to alleviate the harsh dryness of her throat, Ginny focused on Voldemort at sneered as best she could. She tried to laugh, or at least chuckle --even though there was nothing remotely amusing about her situation-- but ended up coughing instead as she continued to taunt him, "T-the truth hurts... doesn't it, Tom?"
"I shall make you beg my forgiveness for suggesting that," Voldemort declared, raising his wand for another round.
"Not while there is breath left in my body," answered Ginny, already beginning to shiver in fear of the pain she knew was coming.
Voldemort sneered at her and spat out his words, "That can be arranged. But it shall not happen quickly. Crucio!"
It was unbelievable, the pain that enveloped Ginny. Dimly she tried to process the feeling of it, but it was too much to take in and what little she could make out was a mass of conflicting sensation that hurt almost as must as the actual pain. It was sharp, but at the same time blunt. It was scalding hot, but also freezing cold. Loud, but soft.
At the edge of her perception, through the clamour of her own screams, Ginny heard a sick, wet popping noise that coincided with the curse's almost climactic end. Moments later, as she lay limp and quivering, Ginny felt the warm rush of blood filling her mouth. Gagging on the sharp, metallic taste, she unconsciously probed with her tongue and found the source of the bleeding. During her convulsions she had bitten straight through her lower lip.
*Ginny? Your nervous system can't take much more of this.*
Shield. Ginny's thoughts were in disarray from the pain which continued to batter her even after the curse had been lifted. Choking on blood she began to cough and rolled onto her side, hunching up as her stomach began to twist and heave in on itself.
Dimly she was aware of a soft female voice. *You have to focus. Focus.*
It hurts, was all she could manage to think. It was certainly all she could feel.
*We're trying to repair the damage and mute the pain, but this is the Cruciatus Curse we're dealing with,* Romulus' concerned voice told her. There was a brief pause, then, *We need you to focus yourself against it if we're going to have any hope of deflecting the brunt of it.*
Ginny nodded, though the action sent further spikes of pain lancing through her head, and managed a weak, I'll try... but everything's hurting so much...
Isis tried to help her. *Concentrate on our voices then. Use the techniques we taught you.*
Nodding once more in confirmation, Ginny turned onto her side. Her eyes were swimming in a mixture of tears and blood, so she could see very little of what was happening above and around her. She focused instead on what was being said, despite the fact that her ears were ringing almost as badly as her eyes were watering.
"Wormtail," she heard Voldemort address his servant. She could dimly make out Voldemort's dark form standing over her, Wormtail shuffling quickly to his side. "You used to live with this one's family, didn't you?"
We should've killed him, she thought maliciously, her attention centring with uncanny precision on the shorter wizard. The pain she felt seemed to bleed away as her mind focused on Wormtail and her knowledge of his treachery. Harry should've killed him.
*Virginia...*
It's his fault, the words curdled angrily as she struggled, and failed, to push herself up onto her elbows.
Pettigrew was standing, almost cowering, but Voldemort's side. He spoke in a tremulous voice, his hands rubbing uneasily over each other as he nodded vigorously, "Y-yes, my lord. Yes. I did."
Ginny felt her lips part in a silent snarl, All his fault...
*Focus, Ginny! Don't lose your focus!* ordered Heracles desperately, fully aware that they were losing her attention.
*Listen to our voices, Virginia-*
Voldemort motioned Pettigrew towards Ginny with a gesture of his wand. "Then reinforce your loyalty to me and punish her for her presumption."
Pettigrew swallowed once before bowing deeply. "Yes, m-my lord."
"Harry's only ever made one mistake in his life," Ginny remarked after spitting out a mouthful of blood. She wished she could wipe at her chin, but settled for staring up at Pettigrew as he came closer, her eyes fixed on his pallid face.
"Indeed," remarked Voldemort, his curiosity piqued. "And what might that have been, girl?"
It's all his fault! Ginny spat out another mouthful of blood - directly on Pettigrew's mud-covered boots. She glared up at him and snarled bitterly, "He spared your treacherous life when he should've let Moony and Padfoot kill you!"
Pettigrew jabbed his silver hand at Ginny and screeched, "Crucio!"
This time the pain was not as bad as when Voldemort cast the curse, since Pettigrew was not as powerful a wizard, but it was still an agony beyond words or description. Ginny could feel her spine creaking and straining as she arched up against the pain, leaving her to fall to the ground with a thud when it finally ended.
*For pity's sake, Ginny, you have to stop this!* insisted Heracles, almost begging her.
*The damage will be beyond our ability to repair otherwise,* concurred Osiris, sounding very concerned.
Ginny was wheezing for breath, but managed to look up at Pettigrew. She could see that the man was clearly shaken and immediately took advantage of that. "My, how... courageous of you... Scabbers," she muttered between pants. "Torturing a helpless girl. Good work, keep it up. Who knows, at this rate you'll be just like him--" she motioned at Voldemort "--before you know it."
"No, I - I - Crucio!" Pettigrew stuttered in protest before renewing the curse.
Again the excruciating pain wracked Ginny, perhaps just a trifle more intense than before. This time, however, Pettigrew maintained the curse for what seemed like an eternity longer than the first time. When he finally lifted the curse Ginny lay panting on the ground, a dull throbbing permeating every pore as Ginny trembled with relief.
Wracked with coughs from her raw and burning throat, Ginny tried to resume her denunciation of Pettigrew, but saw instead that Voldemort had waved the fretful Death Eater back. He had a truly evil smile of satisfaction as he once again levelled his wand at her. "And now, you insolent brat, I will have the pleasure of-"
"Expellas!!" shouted Ginny urgently, gathering what magic she could in desperation to evade any further torture by the Dark Lord. She drew the magic into her body, a process that under these conditions was nearly as painful as the Cruciatus Curse, and then expelled it with all her available might in every direction.
The bonds holding her captive snapped easily under the force of the hastily cast and directed Banishing Charm. Ginny gasped a deep and relieved breath as the ropes slewed away from her body and allowed her to breathe without constraint. The spell itself continued to balloon outward in all directions as Ginny rolled onto her stomach and, her arms and legs trembling under the strain, pushed herself to her feet.
Voldemort, who had been knocked back half a dozen paces by the expanding Banishing Charm before it had faded, stared at her in astonishment. "What?! But her wand-"
It was Pettigrew, who had not been knocked as far back by the spell as it had mostly dissipated before reaching him, that stepped forward with his silver hand outstretched in an attempt to subdue Ginny before she could do anything. "Stupe-"
To those watching, Ginny's movements, limited and restrained though they were, were little more than a blur. Her fist, swung in a short backhand, smashed into Pettigrew's jaw with a resounding crunch that knocked the short man to the muddy ground in a senseless heap. This victory was not without a price, however, and Ginny almost doubled over from the pain that seemed to radiate from her heart and lungs.
*Good girl!* encouraged Merlin as she struggled to compartmentalize the pain and push to the back of her mind where she could more easily ignore it.
*Hold them off for a few more seconds and we'll be able to Apparate you to safety,* Alexander told her, sounding very relieved to Ginny's ears.
Ginny whirled, staggering only slightly on unsteady and tremulous legs, to face Voldemort. She stretched her right hand towards him, clutching at her middle with her left, and hissed his name through clenched teeth, "Tom!"
The Dark Lord watched dispassionately as Ginny summoned up a bolt of lightning that would have reduced even the greatest of trees to kindling. The writhing whip of ruby energy snapped between the two of them with a resounding crack that threatened to shatter glass and heat intense enough to dry the mud caking both their robes. Ginny had been able to blow Voldemort off his feet when she had previously used this approach.
Unfortunately Ginny was still too shaky from the many Cruciatus Curses she had been subjected to, to consider that her opponent might this time be prepared for such an assault. The lightning came to an abrupt and startling end less than a yard from where Voldemort was standing, flaring white and screeching loudly against the invisible barrier he had erected around himself.
"Fool me once, shame on you," Voldemort observed unpleasantly when, after several long seconds, Ginny dropped her arm to her side and ended the barrage of crimson and scarlet force. She stood there, panting from her exertions, and not fully comprehending what had happened. With a sardonic smile Voldemort flicked his wand at her feet. "Fool me twice, shame on me."
The ground exploded up from underneath where Ginny was standing, sweeping her up in a maelstrom of uprooted earth, stones and one or two reasonably large rocks. It was like being caught up in an avalanche, only in reverse. The force of the magically created upheaval was enough to briefly lift Ginny into the air before slamming her back down amidst a rain of debris.
After all the torture, as well as her previous injuries, this was too much for the young witch. Ginny had only just had enough strength in her limbs, which felt leaden when she tried to move, to keep herself standing upright. Under such an intense and concentrated assault her reserves were nigh useless. So, as the spell drew to a close, Ginny collapsed in a manner not unlike a puppet that had its strings severed.
Lying prone in the upturned dirt and mud, Ginny remained completely motionless. What little energy she had managed to dredge up to throw off her bonds had been exhausted, leaving her at Voldemort's mercy (not that such a thing existed) yet again. She ignored the urgent chatter and pleas of the Order, wondering instead how it was she managed to remain awake. Unconsciousness held a certain appeal at the moment.
"You try my patience, girl, and I shall have you suffer for it," she heard Voldemort saying. She was too tired to roll onto her back and face him, but a sharp kick to her side managed to knock Ginny over. Breathing shallowly she looked up at Voldemort with glassy eyes as he aimed his wand directly over her heart. "Cruc-"
Voldemort's utterance of the curse was abruptly cut off by the sound of the world coming to an end, or something pretty close to it. It was a loud rumbling thunder, combined with the noise of an avalanche grinding forward. Following right on its heels was a seething red, white and golden wave of magical energy. It washed over Ginny, Voldemort and everyone else on the grounds as it rapidly swept outwards, leaving a strange tingling sensation in its wake.
As the blazing light encompassed her hazy vision, forcing Ginny to shut her eyes against its glare, she suddenly felt the anti-Animagus and anti-Portkey wards that Draco had created earlier come crashing down. Heck, they did not just come down; they were torn apart like wet tissue paper, broken into a thousand pieces and shattered into nothingness, as though they had never been there at all.
The deep roar of thunder that had sounded quickly began to fade, allowing another deep, guttural roar to be heard. It was a sound that Ginny recognised instantly. It was a roar of release, an exultation of freedom, a challenge against all opposition and a signal of hope to those who, until a moment ago, had been lost in despair.
As the war cry echoed throughout the hills and valleys surrounding Hogwarts, the only Imperial Arch Griffin known to exist lowered his leonine head, tucked his outstretched wings behind his back, shook out his thick mane and glared across the battle-scarred field. His glowing emerald eyes narrowed, blazing with righteous, unchecked fury. His lips parted in a snarl, revealing his gleaming golden teeth. His hands clenched into tight fists and then unclenched, foot long talons glittering coldly under some undefined source of light.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was awake.
And he looked decidedly pissed off.
TBC...