Well of Shadows
In the Valley of Death
By Ruskbyte
Chapter Twenty One
~ In the Valley of Death ~
As far as explosions went this one, Ginny felt, was... pretty big.
Truth be told it made the one where Harry had utterly destroyed number four Privet Drive look rather paltry by comparison. And that had been one bloody impressive explosion.
Smoke filled the air, thick and black, obscuring everything happening below from view. What little she could see did not fill Ginny with confidence. A massive crater, large enough to fit a dozen number four Privet Drives within it, scarred the once trim grounds. It abutted right up against the castle walls on one side, where the massive stone works were scorched black and even gutted and pitted in places.
Even now, several minutes later, bits and pieces of debris and loose clumps of torn grass and dirt were falling intermittently from the sky - like exceptionally heavy and grotesque hailstones amidst the streaming rain. The rain itself was chill and fell hard upon those outside, stinging against them like a multitude of icy needles.
Despite the falling rain, which did little to help dampen the cloying smoke, Ginny could see dozens of small flickering fires burning on the grass around the edges of the smoking crater and along the border of the Forbidden Forest. Thick pillars of yet more smoke --grey instead of black-- were beginning to rise up from these, growing thicker and wider as the fires began to spread amongst the trees and underbrush.
The sight reminded Ginny horribly of when Hogsmeade had been attacked the previous Christmas. The dancing red, orange and yellow glow of the fires lit up the gloom of this dark day much as the inferno, which had engulfed the village over a year before, had lit up the Christmas night sky. Despite the rain, which had been falling steadily since shortly after Ginny had activated the trap to disperse the Well, the fires continued to blaze and grow.
The acrid smell of damp, yet burning wood drifted in the air and stung at Ginny's eyes and throat. She blinked back tears as she turned away from the morbid sight, looking instead at her companions.
Dumbledore was possibly the only one that seemed unruffled by what had just transpired, his long silvery hair streaming down his back as it always did and his beard securely tucked into his belt. Aside from the fact that soot from the rising smoke stained his exposed cheeks, forehead and nose, and a dusting of ash, dirt and even some grass that lay sprinkled over his head, Dumbledore seemed to have barely even noticed that anything was going on.
Except for his eyes. Yes, Ginny could easily see the change in his eyes. Gone was the seemingly permanent benevolence that had always seemed to reside there. Instead there was a cool, almost to the point of being cold, measuring look that seemed to gauge everything the old wizard saw with inscrutable purpose.
And power, Gods, the power radiating out from Dumbledore at that moment was incredible. Just to see him like this sent a shiver up and down Ginny's spine. This was not the headmaster of Hogwarts standing next to her. No, this was the wizard who had defeated Grindelwald over half a century ago. It was almost frightening, but at the same time gave Ginny a sense of assurance at the knowledge that if Harry could not be at her side, then at least Dumbledore was.
"Wow, Harry really toasted that bastard's arse!" commented one of the Aurors, a young witch called Siobhan. She was staring out over the wrecked lawns and forest with wide eyes, her hair tumbling around her in unruly tangles - a result of the pouring rain.
"I certainly hope he did," muttered Ginny under her breath, turning back to the grounds.
Dumbledore heard her and asked, his voice steady but with an almost imperceptible trace of concern buried in it, "You do not know?"
Ginny shook her head and shielded her eyed from the rain with one hand, peering down to where the smoke-enshrouded crater lay. "It's still very cold, Albus," she said, her own worry momentarily overriding her usual reticence about using Dumbledore's given name. "If the Well's powers were properly dispersed, it wouldn't be. It would be getting noticeably warmer."
"What of the explosion we just witnessed?" he asked, nodding in that direction. "There was a... somewhat worrying delay, after the trap you and Harry utilized had finished, before poor Draco seemed to loose control of his energies."
"Do not call that bastard 'poor' in my hearing again, Albus," Ginny ground out, her inner turmoil causing her to momentarily forget herself. She started after a second and looked at Dumbledore with wide eyes and a horrified expression. She was about to apologise when the headmaster waved her comment aside, accepting her anxiousness over Harry's wellbeing.
"Is it over then?" asked Snape, who came up behind Dumbledore, with Idaho standing alongside him.
Gravely Dumbledore shook his head and sighed slightly. "I'm afraid we have not yet been able to ascertain the final outcome of this battle. I believe it might take some time before we are able to get a clear view of what is transpiring --and what has transpired-- down on the grounds."
Suddenly, startling them a bit, Ron's disembodied voice announced, "Actually we might be able to help with that. Not right now, but in a minute or two. Whatever Harry and Ginny did to Draco, it seems to have done the trick. Everything is slowly returning to normal."
"Not that that means much around here," commented Hermione's voice. "We're starting to get a clear view of Hogsmeade and what's left of the forest. The area around the castle is also starting to clear up."
"Very good," acknowledged Dumbledore, a hint of his customary cheer returning to his voice. He wiped at his water clouded spectacles and instructed, "Prepare to raise the Situation Room and lower the shield barriers as soon as we have confirmation --either visual or via the map-- that the danger has indeed passed."
Ginny, however, had other concerns. "What about Harry?"
Ron's answer, however, was not helpful. "Dunno, the Situation Map's still fuzzy in that spot. Whatever it was Malfoy did hasn't cleared up around there yet."
"Can't you tell if he's all right, Ginny?" asked Hermione. "Through your connection with the Order?"
"I've been calling him, but there isn't any reply - I don't know if he can hear me," Ginny answered, looking back at the smouldering crater and the now widespread fires that were blazing through this area of the forest. The rain seemed to be easing up a bit, allowing the fire to grow without any hindrance. Looking over the damage incurred by the recent battle, she felt her lips draw into a thin line as she added, almost angrily, "And the Order have all retreated into the Great Hall to try and work out what happened to make the trap we set react the way it did."
Hermione's voice was puzzled. "What d'you mean you've been 'calling him'? We haven't heard you say anything."
Ginny looked around, seeing the many expectant faces watching and waiting for her reply. "Uh, I'll explain later... when fewer sets of ears are listening in."
"What about his aura, girl? Shouldn't you be able to 'feel' that?" asked Snape with his usual amount of bluntness.
"I can't make heads or tails out of what's going on down there," Ginny admitted, ignoring the Potions Master's tone. "That explosion had the same effect as dropping a small mountain in the lake - there's too many waves and ripples for me to see what's happening. I have to wait for things to settle down and that'll take a while."
"How long d'you think it'll take?" asked Ron, sounding surprisingly patient. "From the look of it, at least where the Map's concerned, everything will have 'settled down' in five, ten minutes, tops."
Ginny opened her mouth to speak but was unexpectedly cut off by a sound that was as startling as it was unexpected. It rang, loud and strident, through the afternoon air, cutting through the diminishing rain with such piercing intensity that Ginny could feel her teeth shivering in response.
The blaring siren eventually trailed off, leaving her to snap her jaw shut and turn wide eyes to Professor Dumbledore, who looked across at her with a resurging graveness in his expression. He shared a look with her before turning to gaze out over the burning forest. Standing just behind the headmaster, one of the older Aurors, Halleck, also turned his eyes to where the burning ruins of the Forbidden Forest stood.
"Looks like we have some more uninvited guests," he noted in a droll, but bland tone. The scar along his jaw twisted upwards in a manner that made his expression more of a grimace than the dour smile it was.
"Tom," spat Ginny, feeling the air crackle around her at the mention of Voldemort's true name. She became aware that she had unwittingly summoned upon the Order's power from the moment the alarm had sounded, gathering it to her for when she would leap into the forthcoming battle. With a vicious snarl she also rounded to face the forest, realization of Voldemort's plotting clear in her mind. "That son of a... it was a set up. He was using Draco to batter down our defences - take Harry out of the fight before it even started."
Dumbledore reach for his bracelet to address those in the Situation Room. "Mister Weasley, Miss Granger, how many Death Eaters are there?"
"Um... how many does You-Know-Who have?" asked Ron in a strange tone of voice. "'Cause I think he brought them all."
"Here they come now," announced Siobhan.
They emerged from the burning forest, through the smoke and flames, stretched out in a long line that reached from the edge of the lake, right around to the Quidditch Pitch. Dark shapes darted rapidly back and forth in the flickering shadows which fell across the grounds, while larger and ominous hulking forms lumbered out into the open.
A frightening wail rose up as rows of tall, thin and cloaked figures came forward, drifting over the ground like wraiths. Pale, bloodless faces seemed to hover amidst the inky black of their robes as they stood with inhuman stillness. Watching. Waiting. The firelight at their backs caused them to cast long shadows that stretched far ahead of them, almost to the foot of the castle walls.
Vampires. A shiver ran up Ginny's spine at the realization.
The shiver promptly ran back down her back and straight up again at the sight of what came next. Marching out of the forest, in neat and coordinated ranks, were what could only be goblins. They tromped forwards, their ungainly gait not suited for such lengthy treks as they must have just made through the forest, and began to supplement the long lines of waiting vampires.
They were dressed in what was obviously traditional goblin armour and carried with them large rectangular shields (which were almost as large as they were) and wicked looking glaives that gleamed in the firelight. Despite the fact that their extraordinarily large ears stuck out from beneath their pointed helmets in an almost comedic fashion, the professional and serious way in which these goblins carried themselves betold of their profession as soldier for hire.
"Goblin mercenaries," muttered Idaho, looking very displeased. His brows were drawn together and he shared a concerned look with his second in command, Halleck. The pair did not look happy when they turned to watch as the remainder of Voldemort's followers drew into the open.
Lumbering trolls, twelve feet tall and with skin like an elephant's, were shuffling out of the forest at staggered intervals. Some dragged massive-looking clubs behind them, while others held large and unwieldy-looking spears by their shoulders. Perhaps more worrying than anything that had come before, were the groups of several trolls which were carrying long ladders, apparently in preparation of scaling the castle walls. The ladders were far too small for the trolls to use, but were perfect for either the vampires or the goblins.
Last to emerge from the burning forest, some of them on fire themselves, were staggering bunches of the living dead. The zombies brought up the rear, primarily because of their slow and unsteady walk, shuffling aimlessly about and frequently bumping into each other. Several had clearly been unlucky enough to stumble against some of the burning trees and staggered about in jerky motions as walking pyres before eventually collapsing.
Behind them all, assembling on a small hill to one side of the bulk of the various dark creatures, were the Death Eaters. Their black robes fluttered in the light breeze and their pale masks were all in place. They stood in a tight knot, surrounding a single figure at the crest of the knoll they had gathered upon. Voldemort.
"According to the uh, counter thingy Harry set up, we're looking at three hundred and eighty one vampires; a hundred goblins; about the same number of trolls - various breeds; and three hundred zombies. I wonder where he found so many? Probably raided a nearby cemetery," said Ron, a quiet hush to his voice. Then he added, sounding almost chipper, "No bloody acromantulas, thank heavens."
"We have to get to Harry. Ron?" asked Ginny, looking away from the ranks of creatures standing by the edge of the forest and to the smoke-shrouded crater where she knew Harry to be.
There was silence for a moment as everyone waited. Finally Ron's voice answered, "Uh, the interference Malfoy caused has begun to clear up. We can see Harry... and Draco, unfortunately. If the Map's picking them up, then they're alive."
Ginny gripped at the wall overlooking the grounds, her nails digging into the unyielding stone until her knuckles went completely white. Ignoring the slight pain as her fingertips strained against the cold stone, she urgently ordered, "He's wearing a bracelet. Retrieve him now!"
"What about Malfoy?" asked Hermione, albeit sounding a bit reluctant.
"I don't give a damn about that misbegotten psychopath!" snapped Ginny, whirling to glare at those standing behind her, even though none had said anything. "Just get Harry back inside Hogwarts where he'll be safe! NOW!"
There was a tense moment of silence as everyone waited for Ron, or someone else in the Situation Room, to recall Harry to safety. After a while in which the quiet had stretched indeterminably, Professor McGonagall's voice announced, "It's not working. Either the bracelet was broken during the fight, or the anti-Portkey ward Mister Malfoy put up is still functioning. We'll keep trying to recover him, though."
Ginny nodded, though only those on the battlements could see her, and promptly declared, "Then I'm Apparating down there and fetching him before Tom and his lot find him."
"And what if you were somehow unable to return?" asked Dumbledore calmly, appearing completely unconcerned by the enemy forces massed below. He looked at her in that way he had, the one that always made her think of her grandparents, and said, "Being trapped would be dangerous. Just as dangerous as it would be if you and Harry were a normal couple."
"We're not normal?" she asked sarcastically.
Dumbledore almost chuckled but held it down, though his moustache did twitch. He shook his head and said, "Normal witches and wizards don't battle the forces of evil, Virginia. At least not as frequently and successfully as the pair of you seem to."
Ginny bobbed her head in acquiescence. "You do have a point." She then shook her head and said, "But it's not going to stop me."
"You can't go after Potter in the middle of a battle like this," protested Idaho.
"Want to bet?" she retorted, glaring at him.
One of the other Aurors, a grizzled old wizard called Thufir, stepped forward and began, "Perhaps it is not really my place to say anything--"
Ginny interrupted, her voice deceptively mild, "You're right. It's not."
Dumbledore put a restraining hand on her shoulder, "I really don't know how to say this, Virginia..."
"Very carefully, Albus, because I think I already know what you're going to try and tell me." She turned to look into his sombre blue eyes, which peered at her over the rims of his spectacles. She smiled sadly and told him, "The answer is still no."
She looked out, towards where Voldemort and his Death Eaters were standing, her lips drawing into a thin line at the sight. Consciously working to unclench her jaw she said in a precise and clipped voice, "I'm going after Harry, even if it means I have to go through every Death Eater down there."
***
"That silly girl is going to get herself, and possibly Potter as well, killed," said Professor Snape angrily after Ginny had vanished from sight with a low pop.
"Virginia is the sort of person that takes things personally," Dumbledore observed gravely. "In my experience, she is less a believer in getting mad as she is an advocate for getting even."
Beside the headmaster, Halleck shook his head sadly and ran a thumb along the length of his scarred jawline. "Against all those Death Eaters, Vampires and what not... she doesn't have a prayer, poor lass."
Hermione's intangible voice responded staunchly, "She has more power at the tips of her fingers than anybody alive, except perhaps for Harry. If there's anyone you should be worrying about, Gurney, it's the Death Eaters - if she thinks they might hurt Harry, Ginny won't hesitate to do whatever it takes to stop them."
The smallest glimmers of a smile lit up Dumbledore's eyes as he turned his attention down to the scarred grounds of Hogwarts, where Ginny had just appeared. He stroked at his rain-soaked and bedraggled beard as he considered her standing there. "If they only knew who they are about to face, I think that Voldemort's followers would be scared out of their wits."
***
Ginny stood facing the various creatures lining the edge of the burning forest for nearly a minute before anything happened. Apparently they were a bit surprised to be so openly challenged, especially by lone opponent - and a mere girl at that. Eventually, however, they managed to set aside their surprise and begin to move against her.
It can never be said that trolls are a particularly bright breed of creature, but they do have one thing going for them in matters of mental acumen. They do not think too much. Thus it was a large and rather obnoxious-looking troll that charged at Ginny first, his short and stumpy legs propelling him with surprising speed as he waved his large and heavy spiked club over his head. He looked oddly like a rampaging bull elephant, only without the trunk and large ears.
Without so much as a blink of an eye, Ginny levelled her wand at the troll in her most nonchalant manner. There was enough power behind that Stunning Spell to knock even Harry, in his Animagus form, unconscious. Suffice it to say, the troll never knew what hit it as it fell to the ground, knocking up a wide spray of mud before skidding to a halt.
Next came a squad of five goblins, their shields raised and their glaives held high. Ginny almost grinned as she turned her wand to them, gathering her power, "Pyros Expellas!"
Goblins have their own unique brand of magic, but even then they could not match the power put behind Ginny's spells by the Order of the Phoenix. A ring of blazing red fire encircled the group, trapping them within the bounds of its five-foot-high flames. The goblin leading the pack had not been able to screech to a halt quickly enough and ended up tumbling into the fiery wall in a tangle of limbs and armour. His companions hurriedly pulled him clear and smothered the flames covering him, only to find that their distraction had cost them any chance at escape as Ginny cast a flurry of Stunning Spells into their midst, dropping them as easily as she had the troll.
Ginny smirked with satisfaction and turned to deal with the rest, only to find herself facing a lone vampire. It was tall and thin, wearing robes that were several centuries out of fashion, though doubtless the style had been popular at the time of his turning. His fangs, which he bared in a grin as he drew nearer, were sharp and gleamed in a manner not unlike his shining eyes.
"Lux Solaris!" she cried, letting loose a burst of brilliant, almost blinding light from her wand. The vampire recoiled, hissing and cursing in pain as he stumbled back, covering his burnt eyes and smoking face. Ginny used this to her advantage and stepped close to him, within his defences, and reached out to slip the sword she had seen from its scabbard at his waist.
She quickly glanced at the blade and recognized it as a seventeenth century Venetian broadsword, probably also from when the vampire had been turned. It was heavier than she was used to and the balance was not as fine as the sword Harry had gifted her with the previous year, but the edge on its blade was keen. It would do.
And it did.
The vampire barely had time to register that his sword was no longer at his side. He looked up, dropping his hands away from his scalded face, blinking uncertainly with his injured eyes, and barely had time to open his mouth before Ginny slashed her borrowed weapon across his chest. She swept the blade in a upward arc, slicing a deep gash into his flesh, before swinging the sword back and down. The broadsword bit into the vampire's shoulder, rending muscle and bone almost down to his stomach.
Gritting her teeth and pulling hard on the deeply embedded blade, Ginny tugged the sword free and spun on her feet, lashing out as she switched the sword from her one hand to the other. Both of the vampire's hands jerk upwards in a spastic motion as the blade cleaved through his neck and severed his head from his body. Flames erupted from and around the wound, rapidly engulfing the entire body in a blaze of fire, leaving behind nothing but glowing embers and a fine black ash.
Had anyone been close enough to see the smile stretching Ginny's face, they would have felt their hearts quicken at the sight. If they had been close enough to see the feral gleam in her bright eyes, they would have been greatly unnerved. And if any of those close enough to discern her expression were in the least bit familiar with Ginny Weasley and her fiery temperament, they would have turned tail and run as quickly as they could in the opposite direction.
For they would have realized that the look on Ginny's face was that of a person who was about to unleash forces beyond imagination, no doubt with great quantities of mayhem, destruction and death occurring all around her while she did so.
And that Ginny was perfectly happy about the idea.
***
Voldemort watched dispassionately as Ginny Weasley tore her way through the ranks of vampires, zombies and goblins, which were leading the assault on Hogwarts. His blood-red eyes took it all in as the young witch decimated those minions which approached her with almost brutal ferocity, using a mixture of spells and swordplay that none of those currently facing her could match.
Indeed, almost inspite himself, the Dark Lord found himself impressed by the skills and --most especially-- the raw power she was exhibiting. But enough was enough, he decided after a minute or two. He did not bother to look at the Death Eater standing by his side when he gave the order that would sign the death warrant of this insolent girl that dared to try deny him his goal.
"Macnair."
***
Dammit, why couldn't I have Apparated closer to Harry? asked Ginny with mounting frustration as she swung her broadsword in a wide circle and lopped off the hand of one of the many zombies currently surrounding her. She ducked low and spun around, bringing her borrowed sword up to block a blow from a relatively 'young' vampire that had attempted to sneak up behind her.
*We told you,* replied Quetz, *the Ether is too badly disrupted in that area at the moment. If you tried to Apparate there you'd simply slide around it or, worse, be reflected back.*
*Apparating to where you did was almost as dangerous,* added Miko. *You could have been splinched.*
Ducking under a slow swing by the now one-armed zombie, Ginny hewed its leg out from underneath it. As the mindless creature fell to the ground she managed to decapitate it as she rose up to parry another strike from the vampire, bringing her wand up in her free hand as she did.
"Lux Solaris!"
As the vampire howled and jerked back, Ginny plunged the blade of her sword through its chest and pierced its unbeating heart. With the blade firmly embedded, and knowing that simple metal would not be enough in this case, she transfigured the steel into wood. Instantly the vampire burst into a blaze of fire, jerking violently as it was consumed from within. Pulling the sword free and changing the blade back before it too caught alight, Ginny readied herself to face whatever would be coming at her next.
She found him standing a dozen yards away, his hood thrown back and mask removed to reveal the unpleasant visage of his moustached face. He was clearly one of Voldemort's Death Eaters and looked rather familiar, though Ginny did not immediately recognise him. He had called off the various creatures trying to kill her, apparently intent on facing her alone.
*He looks familiar. So does his aura.*
I know, she agreed, but I can't quite place...
"You're good with that sword, girl. But these-" the Death Eater indicated the vampires, goblins and zombies that were backing away with a dismissive wave of his left hand, "-are hardly worthy foes. How would you care to test your mettle against a true fighter?"
"I recognise you. You're the executioner, Macnair." He nodded his head in confirmation. Ginny glanced down at his right arm, hanging at his side, and mentioned, "Harry cut your hand off last year."
Macnair's eyes narrowed to fine slits and he practically hissed, "Yessss... he did." Then his lips curled up in a wicked smile as he raised his right arm up so that the hand was clearly visible. His hand was a smooth and shiny silver, extending down almost to his elbow where it ended abruptly, rather like some kind of metallic glove. "But as you can see, my Lord rewarded my efforts with a suitable replacement."
Ginny narrowed her own eyes and contemplated his new appendage. She couldn't be sure --there was still a lot of inconsistency in the magic surrounding Hogwarts at the moment-- but Ginny sensed there was more to Macnair's silver hand than met the eye. Considering that it had been given to the man by Voldemort, it was a sure bet that there was something treacherous about it.
*Better be careful, Ginny,* cautioned Beowulf. *Can you feel it? Even with all the disruption caused by the Well's dispersal, we can still sense the vibrations that hand of his is giving off.*
I feel it all right, she agreed, lifting her sword arm up in mimicry of Macnair's own motion. I guess we'll have to wait and see what he's got up his sleeve.
"Then draw your weapon," she challenged, shifting her sword so that the light from the raging fire behind Macnair caught and flashed along the length of the blade.
"Foolish wench," sneered Macnair. He clenched his hand into a fist and, with a screech of tortured metal, the polished silver took on a liquid appearance and began to flow into a different shape. Ginny backed away a step or two as Macnair's hand swiftly reshaped itself into a gleaming double-edged battle axe. Holding it up for her inspection, he snarled, "my new hand is my weapon."
Ginny swallowed in an attempt to alleviate the sudden dryness in her mouth. Somehow I wasn't expecting him to have something like that up his sleeve.
He came at her in much the same manner as he had gone after Harry during their brief duel the previous year. He was fast for a man his size, she had to admit that, and obviously he had some experience wielding an axe - although probably not one physically attached to his arm. But he was also rather ungainly in his movements and tended to overextend himself, always putting the entirety of his weight behind his swings.
She dodged one downward sweep with a nimble dive to one side, the axe missing her by only a matter of inches as she rolled clear. Then she was standing up, almost as quickly as she had dropped down, striking out to land a blow with her sword. Surprised by her response, Macnair was unable to back away fast enough to avoid the blade, the tip of which cut a shallow line across his chest. Hissing in pain he backed away and blocked Ginny's follow-up blow, snaring the sword's long blade with his axe and twisting it to one side so that her body was exposed to him.
*He's going to come in close,* observed Heracles, *inside your defences.*
Ginny twisted to deflect the punch aimed at her stomach by his left hand, pulling with all her might as she jerked back and tore her sword free. Spinning on a heel she used the movement to land a backhanded strike to Macnair's temple with the flat of the blade. Slightly off balance, mostly because of the speed with which she moved, Ginny was unable to hit with enough force to kill or knock him out but it was enough to cause him to stagger back several paces and reach up to hold his doubtless throbbing head.
Damn, she cursed silently, drawing deep breathes as she watched him closely. I was hoping to end this fight with that.
*According to Harry, and our own observations last year, his skull's probably solid rock,* said Loki with untimely amusement. *If you want him out of the fight, you should have used the sword's cutting edge.*
Ginny shook her head sharply. I don't want to kill him, not if I can avoid it. Vampires and zombies are one thing, but killing a human...
Sun Tzu's soft voice reached her. *Then we'll have to devise an alternate method of removing him from your path.*
I'm always open to suggestions.
"You're good, I'll grant you that," Macnair admitted, reluctantly. He rubbed at his bruised temple before dropping his hand and raising his axe into a ready posture. "But I'm better."
"Maybe you're better, maybe you're not," Ginny granted, though she knew he would not be able to match her in a fair fight. She lowered her sword a fraction, drawing his attention to her right side and away from her left hand. "But there's one advantage I definitely have over you."
Macnair sneered at her, "And what might that be?"
Ginny smirked. "I cheat. Wingardium Naturam Furor!"
Macnair barely had time to comprehend her words, his eyes only just began to widen in shock, when the air around him burst into motion. Within moments he was caught up in a howling maelstrom of tightly bound air that literally swept him off his feet. Ginny had a brief glance at his horror-stricken face as he was blown nearly fifty yards across the lawn - crashing into a group of watching vampires and zombies.
Turning her attention to the swirling tornado she had brought into being, Ginny raised her left hand and the wand she was holding at the tunnel of wind and directed it down the long line of dark creatures laying siege to Hogwarts. Most of them were too distracted by the rain of spells, hexes and curses being fired down on them from the defenders up on the battlements, but even the dullest were quick to realize that they suddenly had more to worry about than trying to scale the castle walls.
With a wicked grin of satisfaction Ginny turned away from the havoc suddenly engulfing the lawn and returned her attention to her destination.
***
Peter Pettigrew could not help but be amazed as he watched Ginny literally blow Macnair out of her way and resume her course for the still smoking crater not far from where Voldemort and his Death Eaters had assembled at the start of the siege. The rest of the Dark Lord's servants had long since dispersed to supervise the various dark creatures aiding them in Voldemort's attack on the castle, with the sole exception being Wormtail who remained by his side.
Nervously, knowing full well that his master would not be pleased with how easily Ginny had seemingly dispatched Macnair, Wormtail glanced up at Voldemort. The Dark Lord stood atop the low hill from which he had decided to direct the battle, and was closely watching every move the young red-haired witch was making.
"She fights impressively, if futilely," Voldemort eventually said, his red eyes following Ginny's progress as she continued on her way.
"She does seem skilled in using a sword," Pettigrew offered in timid agreement.
Voldemort gave a contemptuous snort. "A sword. Bah. Such a primitive tool is no match against a true sorcerer and his magic. If she thinks she can triumph that way then she's a fool."
Pettigrew cringed and tried to sound deferential as he said, "But to summon up a whirlwind like that, such a large one too, means she must be powerful in magicks as well."
"If you believe that some girl-child could hope to match me, then you too are a fool," Voldemort growled, turning his lidded red eyes to Peter with a dangerous gleam flickering within them. "And I do not suffer fools lightly in my presence, Wormtail. Remember that."
"Yes, my Lord," Pettigrew immediately responded contritely, dropping his head in as respectful a manner as he could manage. He fought unsuccessfully to repress the shudder that wracked his body at Voldemort's words. He knew, even without any elaboration on Voldemort's part, that he would be punished for his imprudent words.
Sometimes he wished he had made a different choice in the past.
***
Ginny launched herself at the knot of five goblin mercenaries that currently barred her way to the smouldering crater where Harry lay. The fires raging through the Forbidden Forest had grown and spread wide, joining together to become a massive blaze that lit up the battlefield with a lurid light. Highlighted in shades of red, orange and yellow, Ginny seemed a veritable angel of death, cutting through the ranks of Voldemort's minions with unmatchable fury.
She leapt into the air, splitting a shield and biting into the nearest goblin's side with her sword as she landed in their midst. A spray of chain mail and blood splattered those nearest to them and provided her enough of a distraction to roll between them and emerge from their ranks without injury. As they spun around to face her, their armour hindering their movements, Ginny raised her sword at them and channelled the Order's power through its steel blade.
"Razor Bindus!" she exclaimed, a web of razor-edged wire shooting from tip of her sword and ensnaring the four remaining goblins before they could fully turn to face them. As the wire wrapped itself around them and bound them together Ginny cast a simple Banishing Charm to knock them off their feet and to the ground.
*Nicely done,* complimented Merlin, before asking, *d'you feel that?*
A chill ran up Ginny's spine as a distressing crawling sensation swept over her senses, causing her to suck in a breath. Ignoring the fallen goblins she turned to face the source of the black tendrils of magic that were intruding on the edges of her perception. Licking her lips, because she instinctively knew the source of this horrible unease, Ginny turned to face the man --the thing-- who had haunted her nights ever since her first year at Hogwarts.
"Impressive. Most impressive," the thin figure said, standing imperiously on the small hillock he had been directing his forces from. Somehow she had wandered close enough in his direction that he had decided to deal with her himself, his snakelike face peering both intently and curiously at her from within the drawn cowl of his robes. Reaching up with both hands he pulled the hood back and exposed his face fully as he asked, "And who might you be, girl, to dare face Lord Voldemort?"
"Ginny, get out of there," urged Ron's voice, speaking to her from the Situation Room beneath Hogwarts, where he was doubtless watching Ginny battle her way to Harry. Clearly he had seen who it was that was confronting her. "Apparate back into the castle. Please!"
*I think it would be wise of you to heed your brother's suggestion,* agreed Sun.
Ginny angrily shook her head and tossed the Venetian Broadsword she had been using away, knowing that she would not be using it in this battle. If she needed it later she would summon it from where it had fallen. In the meanwhile, she turned her attention fully towards Voldemort.
"My name's Virginia Weasley," she told him, her voice raise loud and clear so that he could not fail to hear everything she said. Switching her wand from her left to her right hand, so that she would be using the hand she was most comfortable with, Ginny gripped it tight and declared, "And I'm here to kick your arse, Tom Riddle."
For a moment Voldemort's eyes narrowed and flashed dangerously, his ire clearly roused by her usage of his given name. For a moment Ginny felt sure that he would attack her without thinking, but then he threw his head back and, of all things, laughed. Ginny was sure that Voldemort's demented cackle would be enough to unnerve even the devil. Then she remembered, Wait a second... Tom is the devil.
Once his laughter died down, Voldemort looked at her with a cruel smile and said, "You have fire in you girl. I like that. I'll have to kill you for it, slowly, but I like it all the same."
*He's underestimating you. Now is the time to strike him unawares,* advised Osiris.
*In other words,* added Heracles, *kick his arse!*
I know the perfect spell to do just that, agreed Ginny. Looking straight into Voldemort's red eyes she levelled her wand at him and replied caustically, "Fire's not all I have, you slimy bastard."
With a sharp crack that echoed loudly over the muted roar of the fire blazing through the forest, a bolt of lightning slammed into Voldemort's chest. The streams of brilliant red, crimson, scarlet and ruby lifted the pale man into the air and knocked him back a dozen paces to fall to the scorched ground, his robes smoking at the point of contact.
Ginny lowered her wand and quickly glanced around, checking that none of Voldemort's minions or Death Eaters were coming to his aid. Satisfied that she could focus the bulk of her attention on the Dark Lord, she turned back to Voldemort and relaxed slightly as she decided to wait for him to recover before resuming her attack against him.
*Do not let yourself become distracted, Virginia,* cautioned Merlin gravely. *Put this need for revenge you are feeling aside. Press your advantage while you can.*
Merlin, she answered, stay out of this.
*Ginny...*
Rolling over and stumbling unsteadily onto his feet, Voldemort glared across at her and hissed angrily as he drew his wand from within his charred robes. Ginny incautiously folded her arms and smirked at him in satisfaction. She spoke with a smug assurance, her voice laden with scorn and ridicule, "What's the matter, Tom? Kneazle got your tongue?"
Voldemort stared at her, clearly furious, and straightened. "You caught me by surprise, girl."
"If you thought that was a shock," she told him confidently, "wait till I'm done with you."
"I have been guilty of overconfidence before," admitted Voldemort, walking forward until he was once again standing on the crest of the low-lying hill he had been standing on earlier. He held his wand up and directed it at her. "Rest assured that it will not happen again."
*Hopefully that'll be because he'll be dead and thus unable to make the same mistake twice.*
With any luck.
With exaggerated formality Ginny assumed a classic duelling stance. "Care to duel, Tom? Or are you afraid I'll beat you... just like Harry did."
Voldemort bared his sharp teeth and hissed, "If you persist in calling me that, girl, I will make you suffer greatly before I kill you."
*'E is getting worked up,* observed Joan. *Angry. You'd best be careful.*
If he's becoming angry then he'll also become careless.
*Yes,* agreed Alexander, *but his anger makes him that much more dangerous as well.*
Don't worry, I can deal with him.
"Why shouldn't I call you by your name, Tom?" Ginny asked in a polite, mocking, tone. She wagged her wand and looked expectantly at him before elaborating, "After all, we were on a first-name basis for almost an entire year."
Recognition seemed to come to him then as Voldemort's eyes widened a fraction before narrowing into thin slits. He considered her closely for a long moment before speaking. "So, you are her... the girl Lucius gave my diary to. I thought the name sounded familiar."
Ginny nodded and began to gather the Order's power, preparing to strike once this conversation came to an end, which she knew would be soon. "Yes, I'm the one your twisted diary used to open the Chamber of Secrets," she admitted, gritting her teeth in barely restrained anger as she lifted her wand and aimed right between Voldemort's reptilian eyes, "and now I'm going to make you pay for it."
"There is something about you, girl," mused Voldemort, not bothering to take up a ready stance for the duel, which surprised Ginny. He reached up and stroked his chin with the tip of his wand as he continued, "Something that is missing. Something very important. Something called fear."
"That might be because I am afraid of nothing," she responded boldly.
"Is that so?" asked Voldemort. With casual ease he glanced behind her, looking over her shoulder and letting his thin lips curl up a fraction, as he added offhandedly, "Then my allies' presence should not bother you."
Unwilling to turn, since this was obviously the oldest trick in the book, Ginny did not let her attention stray from her opponent. This proved to be a mistake. Too late did she feel a sudden chill wash over her, one that reached deep within her and began dredging up those memories she had tried her best to bury and forget.
Dear Tom, I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I can't remember how they got there.
Ginny's throat constricted until she could barely breathe as the all-consuming cold enveloped her within its grasp. She clenched at her wand and spun around, cursing herself for her stupidity as she moved.
Dear Tom, I can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front.
They were almost right on top of her. A pair of Dementors; standing tall, thin and menacing in their hooded black robes, were less than a handful of feet from her. They stood on either side of a man she instantly recognised, by his silver hand, as none other than Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail. Her desire for revenge on Voldemort had blinded her to his approach and the fact that he had apparently led the Dementors to her.
There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad... I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!
Biting down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, Ginny snapped her wand up as the Dementors reached out with their frail looking arms. Sucking in a deep breath, struggling against the resurging memories of her time under Tom Riddle's control, Ginny gasped out the only spell that could protect her.
"Expecto Patronum!"
A brilliant golden figure exploded from the tip of her wand, right in the laps of the Dementors coming at her. It was a young wizard on a broomstick, a Firebolt, and dressed in the Quidditch robes and gear of a Seeker. Buzzing around him were a dozen tiny Golden Snitches, glowing like miniature suns as they and the Seeker tackled the Dementors.
Almost immediately, as the pair of dark creatures were torn apart and exploded into dark blue flames, the immense cold began to dissipate. Ginny sucked in another deep breath, almost a sob, this one of relief, and felt her shoulders relax as her unpleasant memories began to fade away. Continuing to breathe in ragged gasps, she looked up and glared at the man who had spent over a decade living with her family and felt a blazing surge of pure hatred ignite within her.
"Pyrokallis!"
The exclamation behind her was the only warning Ginny had before the spell, which she recognised as one that created a small but powerful ball of fire, hit her between her shoulder blades. As she collapsed to the ground, an agonized scream torn from her lips, Ginny realized that she had once again been a fool and done something so unbelievably stupid that she almost deserved this.
She had turned her back on Voldemort.
Rolling onto her back, in a desperate attempt to smother the flames burning across her back where her robes had caught fire, Ginny found herself looking up at Voldemort. Through the haze of burning pain that seemed to penetrate straight through her body, from the middle of her back to between her breasts, Ginny could make out his pale face that seemed to hang suspended above her, surrounded by black. He was looking down at her with contempt written in his sharp features.
"I've enjoyed our little tête-à -tête, girl," he said, bringing his wand up and aiming it at her heaving chest, "but it is now time for you to die. Slowly and in great pain, as I promised you earlier."
The pain in her back was beginning to dull, but not enough to grant her the clarity of mind she needed to properly access the Order's power. As it was Ginny's thoughts were too foggy and jumbled for her to make out what the various members of the Order were saying. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her muddled mind, but found that this only served to cause more pain to lance through her body.
A noise to one side caught Ginny's ear and she glanced to see that Macnair, looking very beaten and dishevelled, was staggering unsteadily towards them. As he approached she saw him change the silver axe attached to his right arm back into a silver hand. He stopped a short distance away and dropped to his knees, bowing low before Voldemort and entreating, "Forgive me, My Lord, I--"
"Shut up, Macnair," snapped Voldemort, his eyes never once leaving Ginny. He did not really need to keep such a close watch on her --Ginny was too busy struggling against the pain consuming her and remaining conscious to attempt to flee-- but he was obviously taking his earlier lesson to heart on not succumbing to any overconfidence. He inclined his bald head a fraction and ordered, "Wormtail, bind her tightly. I do not wish her to escape her fate."
Wormtail came up to stand at his master's side. He pointed his silver hand at Ginny, much as a Muggle might point their hand in imitation of a gun, and said in a high-pitched and squeaky voice, "Binduscorpus."
Thick brown ropes wrapped around Ginny, trapping her arms next to her body and biting painfully tight across the blistered skin of her back. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek in a desperate bid to hold back another cry of pain, aware that such a display of vulnerability would only spur her captors on. Ignoring the blood that pooled in her mouth as her teeth tore through the tender flesh Ginny struggled as best she could against her bonds. Voldemort examined her as she thrashed about, checking that the ropes restraining her were secure. Finally he nodded with approval and lowered his wand from its guarding position.
"Excellent," he assessed, his approval causing Wormtail to heave a quiet sigh of relief. Voldemort ignored the short man and turned to one side, bending over to pick up something lying at Ginny's side. He lifted the object up, revealing that he now held Ginny's wand in his hand. He made a short show of displaying it to her as she fought to free herself. He then proceeded to snap it in half with a quick and deft twist of his hands, pausing for a moment as a surge of magic rushed out of the broken wand from its core.
Dropping the two halves of Ginny's wand to the ground, dismissing them as being completely insignificant to him, Voldemort turned to where Macnair was still kneeling. He considered the man, who was trembling almost imperceptibly with dread, for a moment before he commanded, "I will deal with your failure later, Macnair. In the meantime; go and find Potter's body - then bring me his head."
As the prostrate Death Eater hurried to stand, Voldemort turned his gaze back to Ginny and lifted his wand once again. With a malicious smirk twisting his mouth he looked Ginny over and shook his head a fraction, as if mildly disgusted by the ease of his victory of her.
"CRUCIO!"
And Ginny's world vanished under a barrage of unmatchable pain.
TBC...