Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. As much as I wish I owned Hogwarts and the characters, they all belong to JKR and Warner Bros. I simply own my own plot ideas.

Prologue:

We were losing. We were always losing. Despite all our previous losses, Dumbledore still sent us into battle. The Final Battle. And we were losing. There was no way we could take on their numbers. Thousands upon thousands of Death Eaters descending down upon a mere few hundred members of the Order and a bunch of school kids with too much pride but not enough bravery to stop Dumbledore from leading us to our deaths.

Colin.

Lavender.

Tonks.

Remus.

Fred.

Oliver.

We kept falling and falling, and still more falling. Blood and sweat, mixed with tears of rage, pain, and defeat. Still we fought on. We had to. Dumbledore would not call for a retreat or a surrender. We would never surrender, but if only we had retreated. We could have gone into hiding. We could have saved everyone, for indeed everyone died during the battle.

Hermione.

Dean.

Terry.

Angela.

George.

Kingsley.

Why did Dumbledore not call a retreat? Why, oh why? We could have saved so many! We could have kept fighting! But no… a retreat was not called. And we all died.

McGonagall.

Snape.

Percy.

Fleur.

Mum and dad.

Ron.

I can't even bring myself to keep listing the dead. This is just halfway through the battle. We lost three-fourths of our numbers; they lost a mere few hundred. We lost our best warriors; they lost their weak and untrained. The centaurs were obliterated; the dementors were descending by the hundreds still. The house-elves were ordered to leave; the acromantulas stalked the borders of the grounds to prevent any escapes.

There was no hope. None.

I hid my face in my hands and wept. I wept for the losses, the soon to be deaths, the utter defeat we would face, the fate of those Voldemort did not kill. I wept over the fact that I was outside, down by the lake, for I could not bring myself to enter the destroyed halls of Hogwarts, look upon the dead faces of my friends and family. I would never forgive myself for not speaking out against Dumbledore's plan.

I would never forgive myself for not being able to protect and keep alive those closest to me. I would never get the images of their deaths from my memory, the images of deaths carried out right in front of me.

Me – forced to watch, tortured, never able to get there in time. Their deaths were on me, my conscious, because I failed to come to their aid like we all swore to do for one another.

Neville.

Hannah.

Flitwick.

Charlie.

Parvati.

Seamus.d

It was all too much to think about! I would be better off just blocking it all out. Voldemort's followers could find me here, take me captive. I was never one to be brave. I never fit in with the other Gryffindors. I could submit to the new laws. I think. I could learn the ways of their society. I hope.

No. I could not be weak. All the deaths… I would never forgive myself for letting them die in vain.

My thoughts paused. What was that? I heard a rustling in the trees of the forest a few yards away. I narrowed my eyes, searching the shadows as I stood slowly, carefully, hand slipping into my pocket for my wand.

You don't want to do that. Come.

Come where?

Follow.

The single word echoed in my head for a few seconds. I faltered. I should not. It could be a trap… but was I not, just a moment ago, wishing I could just be captured? To not have to endure seeing the deaths and fighting until I died myself?

You can save them all. You can –

"What are you doing out here?" a musical voice asked from behind me. I whirled around, wand being pointed directly in the face of my best friend. She appeared weary, like she had not slept in weeks. It could feel that way sometimes, especially after tonight.

There were dark bags under her translucent blue eyes, her glowing blond hair dampened by the mud and blood coating it. A long gash ripped across her right cheek and down her throat. She had barely survived that curse, I remembered; I had been able to save at least one person.

I lowered my wand, stammering, "I, I heard something. A v-voice telling me to f-follow."

"One should never listen to voices on such a dark night." She murmured, "But, I heard it, too. Up at the castle, as I was helping clean up the dead… It said to come to the lake, I would find you here."

"Should we follow?"

"We shouldn't…but we shall." I took her offered hand, twining our fingers together and gripping tightly as we headed towards the forest.

Come. You are needed.

"Where?" my best friend asked aloud. I shushed her. Death Eaters were cavorting through out the forest, celebrating our eminent defeat before it happened. They would not hesitate in torturing us.

Follow… Follow the signs.

What signs?

Follow the… deathly hallows… Follow…

I frowned, tossing my dirt stained red hair back from my face. The blond beside me began scanning the trees before a long missing light glistened in her eyes. She pointed; I stared.

A triangle was carved into a tree. The sign of the invisibility cloak gifted to the third brother by Death. We followed the path that began just behind the tree, hidden by bushes and forest herbs.

Five minutes passed. I was beginning to feel anxious. Something was not right; something was happening. Before I could voice my concerns, however, I caught sight of the line representing the Elder Wand, the gift to the first brother by Death. My best friend turned onto the new path revealed.

Hurry. Time is running out.

We began to run, keeping our eyes out for the third symbol – the circle – which my companion spotted last minute merely two minutes later. She headed down the path, but I paused. There were footsteps. Hurried footsteps. Running footsteps. Footsteps belonging to Death Eaters; I have no clue how I knew that, but I knew. We had to hurry, we had to –

"Look!" she hissed, bending down to examine the roots of a tree a few yards down the path. I bolted to her side just as five Death Eaters burst through the brush, Voldemort behind them. Hagrid carried the bodies of Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore!

No!

Voldemort laughed viciously at our pained expressions. I clutched my wand, but my friend touched my wrist. She was slipping something cool into my hands, cold beyond any cold I ever felt.

It glinted in the moonlight. It was gold, circular. It was a twin to what she held; silver and square. She tilted her hand so I could read: Luna, you must accomplish your task. The other will never succeed without you. Turn twice.

Turning my hand barely, I glanced to see if my object had instructions. I barely read as Voldemort hissed the Killing Curse our way and I began turning this gift from heaven: Ginevra, your task is most important. Look for further instructions. Turn once; all hope rests with you!

The forest, the Death Eaters, Hagrid, the bodies, Luna – They all faded into a blur of colors and then blackness as I clutched onto the greatest gift Fate could give us. A Time-Turner.

READ & REVIEW, PLEASE!