Momenti Morti

Justice has been taken and it is very sweet indeed. But is it worth it?

Disclaimer:  It's not mine.


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A/N ~ Momenti Morti is comprised of Ginny's thoughts during the first and second chapters of Outside Looking In and Filmstrips.

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 "Tell Wind and Fire where to stop, but don't tell me."

~ Madame Defarge in Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities

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            At first, when Dean Thomas gave all Gryffindor's over fifth year the opportunity to fight, I rationalized my decision.  I would fight because I was a Gryffindor – loyal, brave, and courageous – and because I was fighting for my school and my belief in the Light. 

            It is only as I stand here, in Albus Dumbledore's office, surrounded by my father, my brothers, my friends – and all of the powerful members of Light wizarding society, that I realize that my reasons are something else entirely.

            These people, all of them, have the courage to face the Dark.

            But when I was confronted with the mere memory of Tom Riddle, I did nothing to stand up for who I was and what I believed in.  No matter that I was only eleven – I feel I should have been able to do something, anything.

            Now, faced with an attack upon Hogwarts, I will be able to atone for my mistakes and assuage the guilt that haunts me.  I could have gotten The Boy Who Lived killed.   I could have killed Harry.  My brother's best friend.  My mother's surrogate son. The hero of my world and my society. Harry, the boy I looked up to, the person I had worshipped since I glimpsed him in King's Cross Station, before I even knew who he was. 

I could have killed Hermione, the girl my brother has loved for years, even though he doesn't know it.  I could have killed my best friend, Colin.    I could have killed Justin Finch-Fletchley.   I could have killed Penelope Clearwater.  Those thoughts have troubled me for five years.  

            Now I can avenge myself and prove that Ginny Weasley will not be taken advantage of again.

            Selfish motives, mayhap.  But there are demons I have to exorcise, demons that haunt my dreams only to disappear during my waking hours. 

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Smoke is wafting through the corridors and I can hear shouting coming from the Great Hall.  I am crouched behind a wall tapestry, waiting.  I hear a whoosh of robes as a black robed figure appears in front of me.  I cannot see the man's face.  I step out from behind the wall hanging -- I will face him like the Gryffindor I am.  He sees me and raises his wand.  I steel myself.  I will get my revenge.  I will cast out whatever traces of Tom Riddle I have left in me when I defeat one of his servants

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            I have succeeded. Part of the burden that has lain so heavily across my heart has lessened.  I am smiling.   My Death Eater is crumpled at the bottom of a staircase, his wand securely pocketed in my robes.  From somewhere down the corridor a shout comes from a voice that I know.  All is well.  I am standing guard over my Death Eater in case he should he stir.  My Death Eater -- such a term of endearment.  But he is mine.  After all, I defeated him. 

I tie the man's wrists; bind him with ropes so the only parts of him that can move are his eyes, which are rolling in pain.  It's not my fault, really, that he ended up at the bottom of the staircase.  It is his.  He misjudged the strength of my magic.  I was already showing signs of being immensely powerful when I was a baby.  Tom Riddle's memory amplified my magic, just as Lord Voldemort imbued Harry with some of his own power.  The man should have recognized me.  My red hair marks me as a Weasley, and there is only one Weasley girl. 

The man had foolishly not realized he was standing at the top of a staircase.  My Expelliarmus spell and the corresponding power behind it knocked him off his feet and backwards.  Nasty things, spills down the stairs.  I hear they can be painful.  

Before I levitate him down to the Entrance Hall, where prisoners are being kept, I remove the hood that shields the man's features from my gaze. 

It is sweet justice that the man I incapacitated was the man who slipped Tom Riddle's diary into my cauldron that long ago day in Flourish and Blotts.

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            I make my way to the Great Hall with Lucius Malfoy levitated before me.  I give him to a ministry official, whose eyes widen in surprise.  Malfoy was one of the biggest fishes in the sea, and the thought that a mere schoolgirl would catch him is almost unthinkable.  I have never been one to abide by other people's conceptions, though, and I merely arched one sculpted eyebrow at the thunderstruck expression on the man's soot smeared face. 

Before I enter the double doors I lean down, closer to Lucius Malfoy.  Oh, how the mighty have fallen.  He is awake.  His eyes follow mine, full of fury, full of malice.  I whisper in his ear, "Take care, my Death Eater.  I'd hate to see what a quivering piece of flesh you'll be once your son gets a hold of you." 

            I laugh.

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            Percy and my father are waiting in line to be treated by mediwitches.  Percy's left arm has been burned; Dad has had half his ear blown off.  I run to them, fuss over their injuries, but they assure me they will be fine.  Bill is among those reconstructing the wards around Hogwarts.  Having had so much experience breaking charms, he will now put his wand to use casting wards that aim to be impregnable.  They failed miserably today though, which is a curious thing.  Now only Ron is left to find.  I know he was stationed in the Great Hall.   I take a deep breath, brace myself.  He will be all right.  I know it.

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            Ron is standing alone in the middle of the hall, away from the small crowds that are gathering. He is turning frantically – his eyes piercing the throngs of people, looking, searching.      I run to him and envelope him in a huge hug.  Everything is going to be all right.  My demons are gone and my family is safe.  Oh, brother mine, everything is wonderful.

            I draw back, grinning.  Ron is staring into the empty space behind me.  His throat works and his voice is strained.  Yet at the same time it's hopeful. I wonder whatever could be wrong.

            "Gin…have you seen….have you seen…"

            His voice breaks.  He looks away, his face contorted.

            Oh, Gods. Hermione.  It must be.  Harry is safe under the Fidelius charm; Ron knows that all of our family is safe from my greeting.  He wouldn't react this way if it were anyone else.

            I am horrified.  Hermione.  No, it can't be.  Everything was perfect.  Everyone was safe.  I had vanquished my demons and all was finally well.  Hermione had to be all right.  She just had to be.

            "No.  Oh, Ron, no…" 

            He nods.  His shoulders quake as he raises a hand to hide the expression of anguish that has grabbed hold of his face.

            "I don't know.  Not for certain at leastBut I haven't seen her…she would have found me by now if…" 

            He turns and nearly sprints out of the Great Hall.  He's right.  If Hermione had been all right she would have found him.  It's obvious to all who know them that they care for each other deeply.  They're just too stubborn to admit it to each other.  I hurry after him, ignoring the looks of curiosity being cast our way. 

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Ron stops abruptly just before we are about to turn a corner.  He is tensed, listening for something I obviously can't hear.  I don't want to interrupt him.

            "Listen…her watch, you can hear it ticking."

            I strain my ears, but all I can hear are the echoes of our ragged breathing mingling in the still air.    I shake my head mutely.  It must be his paranoia. The potency of his wish to see her safe is making him hear things.  We turn the corner.

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            I scream, recoil.  The sight before me burned itself into my memory. 

            Ron was right.  He did hear Hermione's watch.

            An avalanche of stone has buried her.  The only part of her visible is her arm, adorned by a simple silver watch.  I can hear it ticking now. 

            Ticking away as my brother's heart slowly breaks.

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            Ron is on his knees and I am running.  Running towards help.  Running away from the sight that seems to have burned itself onto my irises.  My feet pound on the stones.  My lungs are burning.  I careen around a corner, straight into the arms of Professor McGonagall.  I know I must make a frightful sight.  My hair is loose and hanging and my face is covered with grime.  I am panicked.

            "Professor, I need to get to Madam Pomfrey… Hermione, she…I need to get Madam Pomfrey."

            I wrench my way past McGonagall and stare wildly through the masses of people in the Great Hall.  Madam Pomfrey is bent over Morag McDougal.  I run to her, and plead with her to come with me.  I am getting nowhere when from behind me I hear Professor McGonagall tell Madam Pomfrey to follow me.  She listens and I lead the way.

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            Ron is cradling a limp Hermione in his arms, whispering sweet nothings in her ear and smoothing the hair on her brow.   He doesn't notice us.  Madam Pomfrey sinks to the floor, her wand drawn.

            "Enervate"

            Hermione doesn't stir.  She hasn't been put in a trance, then, or hit by any spell.  McGonagall's hand is covering her mouth in shock.  I am waiting and Ron's head is bowed. 

            "What happened? There are no spells that can do this, she didn't respond to Enervate…"        My breathing is still labored.  Ron answers, his voice wavering, ending high on a plaintive note, almost a sob.

            "I think the pillar fell on her shoulder…it must have been hit by a powerful spell, and she couldn't get out of the way fast enough…is she going to be all right?"

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            Madam Pomfrey doesn't answer.  She runs her palms along Hermione's limbs, checking for broken bones.   What happened next was a phenomenon I had only ever read about. 

            A golden haze – pulsing with energy – appeared between Madam Pomfrey's palms.  Madam Pomfrey radiated.  She cupped Hermione's head between her palms, the haze enveloping Hermione's features.  She moved to her shoulder and the light shimmered.  I couldn't look away.  Professor McGonagall's mouth had fallen open.  It was just as I thought Madam Pomfrey's talent was extremely rare.

 She wouldn't use it often, because in most cases it was apparent what was wrong with the person, or it could quickly be sorted out.  But Hermione's case was neither, and it was for cases like hers that Madam Pomfrey invoked her healing powers.  Using them she could see within Hermione and discover what was wrong.  Sometimes the powers would heal, others only time would mend.

            She gently placed Hermione back into the cradle of Ron's arms.

            "I've done all within my power to do.  Miss Granger appears to have sustained a head injury.  An injury such as hers could render her unconscious for an extended amount of time…in other words, a coma, or…she may never wake.  Time will tell, but now she needs to be moved to the hospital wing." 

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            My mind is screaming no.  I will not believe it.  Hermione will be fine.  She'll wake up. She has to.  Only I know in my heart of hearts that Madam Pomfrey is right.  Only time will tell, and how much time do we have?

 Tom Riddle's memory may have been vanquished from me, but the strength he unwittingly endowed me with remains.  Lord Voldemort is still out there.  Harry must face him.  Can he do it without Hermione?  And Ron is crushed.  If Hermione never wakes up, Ron will spend his life seeking revenge for her and all he has lost.  He will turn bitter, like I did.  I don't want that to happen to Ron.  He deserves better.  It's just not fair.

 I defeated the demons that haunted me.  Oh, I'll probably still have the nightmares, but the guilt, the shame; they're not as prevalent anymore.  Those demons are gone. Everything was supposed to be rosy again.  I felt like I'd been walking through my life with tinted glasses on.  Everything was dark and ominous and in shades of gray.  It didn't feel like the sun was shining on me.  There was a permanent dense fog in my head, reminding me of the terrible things I'd done.

  Oh, I was told time and time again that it wasn't my fault, that Voldemort had hoodwinked other, more powerful people. I was only eleven, after all. But I was old enough to realize something was wrong and did nothing.  For a few, brief, shining moments, after I'd toppled Lucius  Malfoy, the man who bedeviled my father and insulted my family, I started seeing light again.  The fog broke and all was well. 

But now everything is wrong again.  Horribly, terribly wrong. It seems that every time something good happens another thing goes wrong.  My demons are gone but Hermione is somewhere where no one can reach her.  Her body remains but her soul…I fear that if Madam Pomfrey can't bring her back, who can?

            Hermione was supposed to be at our sides as we brought Voldemort down.  She is the mind. Harry is the power.  Ron is the courage. Draco is the cunning. I am the perseverance.   We all have the heart.  Those things, all of them, can cumulatively bring Voldemort down.  I don't address him as a Lord.  There's nothing noble about the man, if you can even call him that.  He's less than human.  But we need Hermione.  There's no doubt about that.  Not only to complete the circle to defeat Voldemort, but because she helps us complete ourselves. 

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"What is to give light must endure burning."
                                    ~ Dr. Viktor E. Frankl

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A/N  ~   This fic was reposted because I *gasps* forgot a disclaimer and the format was messed up.  It contains some information that is really important to the second chapter of Filmstrips, because I mention the circle there without thoroughly explaining it. This is just a filler piece before I can really sink my teeth into new chapters of Filmstrips and Outside Looking In.   My beta Ellie convinced me to post it as a separate story, and I'll continue it if the feedback is positive.  Filmstrips and Outside Looking in are top priority right now, but I rather like Ginny.  So I'll see.  Let me know what you think.

 I'm formulating the plot as I go, so bear with me. Ginny just threw some wrenches into my plans that I have to work with.  I have a tendency to start writing and when I do ideas just pop up and its like ooooh, that works, thanks Ginny, Hermione, I appreciate the ideas.  Ron's a bit more cooperative with what I have to work with, because I write him last. 

Anyways, let me know what you think.  Mauvvie and Ellie seemed to think Ginny was a bit creepy, but I just started writing and she just happened to be like that.

 Its flourishes@suscom.net if anyone would like notices as to whether or not I've updated.  Thanks for reading and please review!!!! I appreciate every one.

Special thanks to straycat, trina k, sugar high, and of course tmj and eleclyn starmaker.

By the way, if anyone happens to be a LOTR fan you should check out Epidemic by Eleclyn Starmaker.  It's stupendously well written and very good.  I know that I'm committing blasphemy by saying this, but I've never read LOTR and don't intend too, but I still read Ellie's fic with no clue as to what was actually going on and it was absolutely marvelous. I'll be going now.  I've been on the computer long enough today.  Ciao!