[Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. All of Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rollings. Also, later on, some of you may recognise some of elements from Marion Zimmer Bradley's Avalon series.]
[A/N: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for the unavoidable mistakes I'll make. Incidentally, I'm looking for a beta reader for this fiction. If someone is interested, just PM me!
About this story: This prologue is written in Ginny's POV, but the rest of it will be Draco's POV. My fiction is written to respect the series up until the end of HBP but becomes a AU from there.]
Prologue
"Ginny! What are you doing? Everybody is already at the clearing. Are you coming?" yelled Pavarti from the outside of the shack. She was stomping her foot on the floor, loudly enough to make her point.
"Yeah, yeah! I'm coming!" came a voice from inside.
Ginevra came out of their sleeping quarters hastily. Trying to simultaneously put on her coat and shoe, she lost her balance. Fortunately, she managed stay on her feet, although inelegantly, by grabbing the doorframe to steady herself. Pavarti burst out laughing.
"Alright, Gin, we're not in that much of a hurry!"
The red head rolled her eyes but laughed all the same.
"I'm ready anyway. Let's go!" She grabbed the older girl by the hand and led her through a dark, narrow footpath.
Before long, they arrived at the young witches' gathering, surrounded by the dense coniferous forest. All the campers were already sitting around an enormous bonfire, sharing jokes and sweets. Their shadows danced joyfully against the forest's obscurity. With happy anticipation about the night to come, the young Weasley took in the sight of that joyous group, smiling.
She had been sceptical about the whole camp idea when her mother had first proposed it. With the war raging in the wizarding world and the recent death of Dumbledore it had seemed like a bad idea to send her in Canada. However, Molly had insisted that she go. Ginevra's mother had argued that Avalon's Memory camp for witches was probably far safer than Great Britain at the moment. The wizard community was so small here that the possibility of an attack was highly improbable. Molly had also explained that going to the camp was a tradition of sort for the Prewett's women. At the time, Ginny had thought that her mom had made that up to convince her. Thus, she had been surprised when the older camp counsellors had asked about Molly's wellbeing.
Avalon's Memory was nothing like what Ginny had expected a summer camp would be. It welcomed witches from 11 to 17 years old but did not divide the campers by ages. Older girls were encourage to share their knowledge with the younger. In her first week, she had learned that absolutely all the camp counsellors had been campers in their youth. When she had asked Raven, one of the oldest counsellors, if it was some kind of prerequisite, the old woman had responded "Something like that" with an enigmatic smile. Everything they did revolved around plants and animals. Ginny was learning the language of earth, rain and wind. She was learning to relate to creature with fur, feather or scales. She'd always had a facility for getting in tune with her surroundings but now it was getting to the point where she felt like she was having a conversation with the forest.
At 16 and as a first timer, Ginny was a curiosity at the camp. Most of the girls had spent their summers there since they were 11 or 12. Pavarti had been spending her summers in Canada since she was 12. At some point, Ginny had wondered about Padma absence. Questioned about her twin sister, Pavarti had simply stated, smiling, that Padma wasn't camper material. Ginny had notice that every time she got a little inquisitive nobody really gave her a straight answer. The vague answers she did get were always given with that enigmatic smile.
However, what the small redhead found the most singular about Avalon's Memory was its nearly mystical atmosphere. She couldn't put her finger on what gave the camp this aura, but, to tell the truth, Ginny didn't really care about the why's of it. All that mattered was that relieving sense of peace she felt here. The constant contact with nature soothed her and the instant connection she'd felt with counsellors and campers had made her feel at home, but more importantly she'd felt safe. And the gods knew what felling safe was worth these days. As much as she missed her family, she seriously considered the possibility of staying here instead of going back to school. Surely, there was a way for her to keep that peaceful haven… She didn't want to go back. What was left for her back home? Would they even be allowed to go back to Hogwarts? What if she was stuck home while Harry, Ron and Hermione were gone chasing Horcruxes? They did everything they could to keep their plans from her but she knew…
That thought brought back the memory of Albus Dumbledore's funeral. Thinking of that day always made her both sad and angry. She'd been very angry for a while. She was angry at the world for that violence and the death of most extraordinary wizard of his time. She was angry at herself for the naivety she had still held at the time. Dumbledore had always looked larger than life, and now he was dead. She was also angry at Harry for not believing in her. He'd broke up with her arguing that he wanted to protect her. She'd tried to take it in stride, to understand but… she simply couldn't. That was so incredibly condescending to her. When they'd got together after all those years she'd thought that Harry could finally see her for who she was but he obviously couldn't. She was not some delicate flower to be put on a shelf so the wind wouldn't knock her out. Moreover, to her, a couple was supposed to be a team. You were supposed to be able to count on each other to get through the bad stuff.
She pushed that sad thought aside and let Pavarti pull her toward Karen, their spitfire Canadian friend, who was currently waving at them.
Pavarti had presented Karen to Ginny two weeks ago. It was simply impossible not to like Karen. The girl seems to exude happiness in waves. She was 17 and would become a camp counsellor the next year.
"Hey! If it isn't my favourite British duo!" she welcomed them warmly "I've been waiting forever!"
Letting herself fall beside Karen, Pavarti sighed theatrically.
"What do you think? I too was waiting for that daydreamer here! I swear! If it wasn't for me, that young lady would still be lost in her thoughts somewhere in the forest".
Ginny rolled her eyes but did not deny it.
"I do feel a bit funny today. Not exactly sleepy, but… I don't know. I hope I'm not coming down with something."
Earlier, she'd gone in the woods to pick some wild herbs. Wrapped in the stillness of the forest, she'd been taken with a strange dizziness. The two older girls shared a look. It was Karen who regained her composure first.
"Anyway! Here, take those marshmallows before I eat them all myself!"
The next three hours were filled with laughter and quite enough sweets for several lifetimes. Midnight was at the door when Ginny finally felt tiredness wash over her. With a content sigh, she let herself fall on her back and look at the night sky. It was magnificent… all those stars. Feeling a bit dizzy from looking at that never-ending sight, she sat again. Some campers had started to play drums, improvising an enticing rhythm, while others got up and danced around. The young Wesley smiled, thinking she would have joined them hadn't she felt so drained.
Lazily, Ginevra settled her gaze on the fire. Its flames were dancing furiously before her eyes like carmine fingers trying to reach the stars. A tired smile upon her face, she reflected on the flames being the same colour has her hair. Gradually, Ginny felt the pace of her heart slowing down and her breath deepening. Suddenly, the camper's laughter sounded distant, as if they were coming from behind a veil. And the flames filled her whole vision. The world around her started to whirl, fast reaching a maddening speed.
I will fall, she thought before remembering she was already sitting on the ground.
She closed her eyes in hope that her head would stop spinning. When she opened them again, the fire and her friends had disappeared. The only thing that still linked Ginny to reality was the drums. She couldn't hear them, but she felt the beat through her chest.
All of a sudden, the emptiness of Ginny's view was overloaded with visions, too fast for her to grasp more than a confusing glimpse. Her heart was beating so hard and fast that it hurt. Her breathing became harsh, her throat was on fire. She was about to faint, she just knew it. But then, just as suddenly as the visions had appeared, they slowed, some of them dawdled enough to make some kind of sense.
A battle. No. Several battles. So many people. Some faces she knew, some didn't. So many deaths. Allies. Enemies. Often hard to draw the line. Harry. Voldemort…
Then a scene came. Two people, a man and a woman. They were from another time, or even another world. Ginevra didn't know. However, she felt like she knew them. A visceral feeling. The woman was tall, dark, beautiful. Timelessly beautiful, Ginny thought. Like a painting's beauty that would still be worshiped in thousands of years. The woman walked, her expression tender and serene, toward the man who was waiting for her at the centre of a stone circle. The man was in leather armour, his helmet under his arm. He too was tall, even taller than the woman, although his height was not what Ginny noticed first about him. He was young, so young. No more than 16, hardly more than a child. Yet, his face was worn. So many responsibilities put on those young shoulders. And then the woman met the young man at the circle's middle. Successively, she put her fingers to her forehead, mouth and heart, before taking the last step between them. Lovingly, she laid her hand on his cheek, a soft caress, and the man bended to meet her lips with his.
And the scene disappeared, replaced by another.
This time, Ginny had the clear feeling that what she saw had yet to happen. Strangely, she also had the feeling that she was really in the vision. She was in Diagon Alley and, it seemed, in the middle of a Death Eaters' attack. It was a soundless vision, and therefore it gave her an odd floating feeling. It was completely chaotic. People were screaming. Spells were cast mindlessly. Rage and fear were drawn on everybody's face. Then a man rose from that clutter, tall and commending, shouting orders. And everybody did as they were told, for that man possessed a leader's aura. He had that quality that made even the greatest listen to him. Ginny realised that the man was now looking at her. He came up to her, which made her realize just how tall he was, or rather how small she was in contrast. He took her face between his big hands, looked at her with pleading eyes and fervently whispered "I want you to apparate back home, love, for I can't fight with you here. Go! I promise I'll come back to you. Take care of you both." She couldn't duel on the meaning of his words for very long. He gave her a brief but passionate bruising kiss, turned around and went running into battle.
The vision ended abruptly.
Ginny woke up panting on the clearing's grass. The fire was still there. When she was able to focus again, she realized that she was surrounded by faces. Most of the younger witches were worried, almost scared. As for the older ones, they didn't seem worried at all but more… interested. Some of them even showed half concealed smiles. One of the counsellors gathered the youngest campers to direct them to their respective shacks.
Tired of looking to everybody from her horizontal position, Ginevra decided to sit. Bad decision. Instantly, her vision blackened, and she felt a nauseous wave coming. She barely had time to turn on her side before she lost it. When she came back to her senses again, Pavarti was beside her holding her hair. She waited until she trusted her voice to work, although raucously, before finally asking "What… what happened to me? Am I ill?"
Gwendolyn, a witch in her forties and the Head of Avalon's Memory, came forward and kneeled beside the young woman. She gently took her hand, smiling.
"No, dear. You are not ill at all. What you just experienced… Let's say that you went in a sort of trance."
Hearing those words, Ginny started panicking. The last time she experienced a trance, it was during her first year at Hogwarts. Tom had taken control of her mind and body. He'd made her do dreadful things. Seeing Ginny's reaction, Gwendolyn immediately tried to reassure her with a soothing voice.
"Calm down, Ginevra. I promise it is not dangerous when one learns to control it. So, like I said, you went in a trance, probably due to the hypnotic effect of flames and drums. It happens sometimes. It has allowed you to See, to have a vision. Or maybe visions?"
She looked at Ginny inquiringly. The young Weasley nodded silently, so Gwendolyn went on, suddenly very solemn.
"Ginevra Prewett Weasley, it is time for you to know, it is time for you to be initiated …"
[A/N: Well, there you go!]