Rhia opened her eyes slowly. Her head was throbbing, and she couldn't lift it up properly. Her chest felt heavy. She began to gasp for air as she realised there was a dead body on top of her, compressing her chest. She couldn't get out from under him. There were people running all around her and as she tried to focus and call out, she saw occasional bursts of wand sparks flying overhead, going in all directions.

She could feel trickles of sweat on her forehead and face. It was so hot, unusual for this time of year in the Highlands. She saw a pair of boots approaching from the castle, and she focused on those black boots as they drew closer; the pattern of the dragon scales; how the dragon skin met the sole; the slight heel at the back. The man's jeans came down over the boots touching his ankles. He very gently and reverently rolled the man off of her. At first she was happy to have a rescuer, but was soon terrified that this man might be a Death Eater and she tried to remain still.

She kept her eyes closed, but not so tight that she couldn't steal a glimpse at him every now and then. He kneeled down next to her, pressing two fingers to the side of her neck. His fingers were moist and warm. She knew that he must be able to feel her heart beating, see her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. She couldn't see his face plainly, but his eyes were clear, bright reflections in the dark pools of the continued flickers of wand light all around them. He had a shock of red hair that fell into his face as he bent over her and the necklace he wore dangled down into her view. It was very similar to her own, a Welsh dragon that her father had given her; the symbol of the Quidditch team he had captained for so long. She could feel the cold metal of her amulet against her skin, and for a second she almost thought he was a team-mate of her Dad's, but as his drew closer to her line of sight, she saw that his trinket was more like a bird than a dragon.

He spoke finally in a hushed calm tone. "Can you hear me? Are you hurt? I'm with the Order of the Phoenix, and I can help. Come with me back to the castle." He waited and she waited, not responding, and finally he rose and slowly began to walk away towards the next nearest body. Rhia opened her eyes first and then sat up watching him silently, moving from body to body. She jumped up to join him, but there was another body closer to her; the one he had just removed from her. She stumbled over his mangled arm, almost falling on him, but instead falling back into the grass, touching his hand. It was Jamie, the Healer she had followed out into the grounds to assist with the wounded. He was dead. He was dead, and she instinctively knew he had died saving her life. The stranger turned and sprung back to her as she sat next to Jamie, staring at his blood soaked hair and clothes. He met her in the grass, both of them now on their knees, next to Jamie.

"Are you all right?" he asked, grasping her shoulders, giving her a little shake, looking into her eyes. She nodded slowly.

"Is he alive?" she stammered, but she knew the answer before the dragon booted man shook his head. Then she saw the second body, where the stranger had come from, recognising him immediately, and a torrent of tears began to flow from her eyes. She was able to get to her feet with this stranger's support and approach the man as he lay in the damp grass, in the horrible stillness despite the chaos all around them; death all around them. With the stranger by her side, she kneeled by this man's head, stroking his dark hair and his pale cheek with her index finger.

"Did you know him?" he asked gently, kneeling beside her, touching her elbow. "Were you close?"

She nodded, and spoke through her tears. "He was married to my sister. He shouldn't have even been here. He told me to leave, and I wouldn't." She couldn't speak anymore through her anguish and enormous guilt, staring at his vacant eyes. She began to weep, her whole body shaking violently with her sobbing. The dragon booted stranger threw his arms around her and held her close to him, whispering in her ear and rubbing her back, and beginning to shed tears himself as their heads touched. He pushed her dark red hair away from her face, so their cheeks were touching. He continued to speak softly against her skin. When her tears finally quieted down, he tried to persuade her to come back to the Great Hall with him.

"It's not safe out here. I need to get back and find my brother. We were separated earlier in the battle, and I need to find him now that it's a bit quieter." She didn't want to leave her brother-in-law alone on the battlefield in the grass dampened by yesterday's rains and his own blood draining out of his body.

"It's okay," she said numbly, not meeting his eyes. "You go find your brother. I'll be along in a bit."

He hesitated to leave her, but knew he couldn't stay any longer. She seemed safe enough. The battle appeared to be over, but they had thought that before. He took a few steps away from her and towards the castle, but stopped and returned to her kneeling yet again, the dampness soaking into his knees. He grasped her arms with care.

"I can't leave you out here," he said kindly. "It's still unsafe. Come to the castle. Please. Don't make me drag you." There was a laugh in his voice, but when she ultimately met his eyes, she saw an intensity in his gaze that almost scorched her skin, and she couldn't help but look away.

"Please," he repeated, taking her hand.

She met his gaze once more and, with one more glance down at her brother-in-law, she rose with tears still in her eyes. He took her in his arms and held her against him for what seemed like a long time and then he took up her hand in his and led her to one of the secret entrances he had been guarding, leading her through the passage to the hallway just outside the Great Hall of Hogwarts. He squeezed her hand, then withdrew his, and striding into the din of the Hall, he left her in the relative quiet.

She stood where he had left her at the edge of the Entrance Hall, overwhelmed and speechless at the chaos going on around her. People were rushing around, bleeding, limping, carrying bodies into and out of the Great Hall. She wandered away and sat in one of the niches along the wall, her hands over her face. She knew she should really have been helping, but she couldn't bring herself to go in. She had seen the makeshift morgue on the dais where Headmaster Snape and her Head of House McGonagall had dinner each night for the past eight months.

She looked up suddenly. There was pandemonium. Voldemort was speaking again, and Harry Potter was dead. Dead, did he say? She rose and approached the front portcullis, where the students and teachers of Hogwarts were standing, shouting, ready to die defending. A man was on fire, but then he wasn't, and then the castle was filled with Death Eaters and Voldemort himself was killing people left and right as they filled the Great Hall and then Harry Potter wasn't dead and Voldemort was, and just like that it was over. Over.

It was an hour or so later when Rhia was finally able to enter the Great Hall. She immediately checked in with Professor McGonagall, and then proceeded to wander about aimlessly. She ended her trek around the perimeter, collapsing, head down on the Gryffindor table. The sword of Gryffindor was at the other end with the man who earlier had been on fire. She left her head on the table for a brief moment, and then lifted it to survey the rest of the cavernous room. As her eyes searched the hall, a shock of red hair on the floor nearby caught her attention.

It was the man; the man who helped her, who had saved her out in the grounds. He was dead. He lay on the floor, still, pale, his red hair brightly glowing against the gray stone beneath him. She began to whimper and moved closer to him. A young woman, another redhead, was sitting next to him, holding one of his hands. Rhia recognized her from her House. She was a sixth-year while Rhia was a seventh, but Rhiannon had only recently come to Hogwarts this term when the Ministry mandated attendance for all Pureblood families. She thought her name was Ginny, and Rhia joined her on the floor, lifting the dead man's other hand to her mouth, kissing it gently and as she stroked his hair, and brushing it out of his face, she began to weep quietly.

The young woman said nothing, but looked at Rhia strangely. A man spoke as approaching footsteps stopped behind her. "I didn't know you knew my brother."

Without looking up, she replied, shaking her head, "I didn't know him. He rescued me… out in the grounds; on the battlefield… about an hour ago."

Ginny interjected harshly, "That's not possible. He's been dead for almost three."

Rhia looked at her as though she were mad, but before she could respond, the man behind her spoke again, in a whisper, "I helped you."

"Don't be daft. I know who brought me to the castle. I'm telling you that it was him." She was irritated with this man, and as she spoke, she turned to face him, but she saw his black boots first. Her mouth fell open, gaping and as her eyes followed the boots to the base of his jeans and up his leg, past his waist and chest, she found his face, a sad grimace settling on his lips. As their eyes met, she felt the intensity of his gaze upon her again, now much sadder and she gasped, nearly dropping the hand she was holding.

"You're twins!" she exclaimed, stating the now obvious. "You're the one who helped me?"

"I'm the one who helped you." Their eyes remained locked as the tall black-booted stranger nodded his head. Her mouth was still open in astonishment. She looked down now at the dead man whose hand she still held, and then gently placed it on his chest, stroking the back of his hand for a moment. She rose, jumping into her rescuer's arms, startling him. She threw hers around his neck, and hugged him tightly.

"I thought you'd died!" she cried out as one or two tears trickled down her cheek. She ran tender fingers through his hair and traced his ears, discovering that he had only one. She moved to touch his face with her gentle hands and surprised them both when she stepped up on her toes to kiss him on his face. It was so close to his lips that he had to catch his breath in surprise from the intimacy of it. They stared into each other's eyes for another moment, and in the next one, his arms went around her waist, and he was kissing her.

As their mouths met and he pulled her closer to his body, he could feel every curve against him, and soon their tongues became familiar, and when it ended they were both winded and slightly embarrassed. Ginny sat there, open-mouthed now, in shocked silence. He rested his forehead on hers and he was breathing heavily into her hair. The flowery smell of her was intoxicating to him. He glanced over at his dead twin just below them, and he inhaled another deep breath of her hair.

He led her away, to another nearby table.

"You're hurt," she noticed.

"I'm fine. Wait for me," he instructed her.

She nodded, and he returned to his family, kneeling next to his dead brother and his bewildered sister. He spoke quietly to them and then he rejoined Rhia, taking her hand and ushering her from the Great Hall. They walked in silence, neither one attempting to speak or to release the other one's hand from their grasp. There was some strange bond between them, like a wand spark bouncing back and forth linking them. She recognised the path they were taking, which was leading them to Gryffindor tower. As they arrived at the entry, the portrait was already open to them. They found no one else in the common room. They were alone and they sat together, she on his lap in one of the comfy chairs by the darkened fireplace. She noticed another deep scrape on his neck that travelled below his shirt line, and she traced it delicately with her finger. "You should see a Healer about this cut. It could become infected."

"I'm fine," he said tonelessly. "My brother's dead. He died before I had even found you."

She remained silent, nodding and letting him continue to talk if that helped him, but she began to open the buttons of his shirt, examining his cut. The lower the cut went, Rhia saw that it was deeper than it appeared near his neck, and she touched it again with tender fingers, causing his skin to tingle. He shifted in the chair each time she pressed a finger against his wound. "I'm training to be a Healer. I could heal this if you'd prefer not to go to the infirmary."

He didn't respond for a time, and when she unbuttoned the last of his buttons and drew his shirt apart, he inhaled a deep breath, looking at her longingly, and she wasn't surprised when he took her face in his hands, and kissed her deeply. He stood up, forcing her from his lap. "I think there's a first aid kit upstairs in the dormitories. I'll be right back down."

He continued to look at her as he moved towards the dormitory entrance, but paused when she spoke and was suddenly at his side.

"I'll go with you." She glanced back to the common room. "I don't want to be alone in here."

She took his hand, letting him guide her up the dormitory stairs. They travelled up all of the stairs to the top of the tower. This was the seventh year dorm, and it was the last place he had lived before moving to Diagon Alley. He found the kit easily enough in the cabinet under the wood stove, and handed it to her. While she saw to its contents, he sat on the bed with the opened scarlet curtains and took off his shirt and his boots, fingering the hanging fabric of the four poster bed, staring at the same coloured fabric on the bed adjacent to this one.

She sat beside him on the bed, kneeling, cleaning his wound and using her wand to knit his skin together. He grimaced with each flick, but it took very little time for it to be completely healed.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked with a cheeky grin.

He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. His lip was quivering. He looked into her eyes triggering powerful feelings in her. He remained silent, simply looking at her face as she packed up the first aid supplies. It seemed like a long time before he spoke. "I can't believe he's gone. I just can't –"

She touched his cheek with the palm of her hand, and when he looked at her again, she rested it on his shoulder. She smiled sadly at him, her eyes also becoming moist.

"I'm so sorry about your brother."

"I've never been apart from him. Never."

"I'm so sorry. I…I was so relieved…that it wasn't you. I was frightened when I saw you dead on the floor. I mean…him…I mean…that doesn't make any sense." She smiled, "I was just so relieved. I know that must sound just awful. He's your brother after all –" Tears began to spring into her eyes and she couldn't suppress a sniffle. He used one thumb to wipe away a few tears, but they were still flowing, and his own had just started up again as well. He leaned towards her and kissed the corner of her eye and then one tear and then another. Her tears were salty, and they made him crave her even more. He kept his hands in his lap, but he pressed his lips against hers, and when she responded to his tender kisses with her tongue, his passion for her flared up at once and took hold of him. He went to grab her, but he pulled away all of a sudden, and he looked at her.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" he asked softly

She smiled. "You probably say that to all the girls who point wands at your chest."

He grinned. "Not really." He procured the wand gently from her hand, placing it on the bedside table. She surveyed his face as he reached across her, and when she realized he wasn't wearing a shirt, she looked down at his wispy red hairs and shadowy freckles dotting his chest and arms and face. She touched one freckle on his shoulder and then traced a few more across his collarbone until he took her hands in his, and he kissed her again.

"Stay with me. Will you stay here with me?" he murmured when their lips separated again. His eyes darted towards the bed that they were sitting on, and when she wordlessly touched his face and neck again and pressing her hand over his heart, he reached out and energetically pulled her tee shirt over her head. His eyes widened and he grinned at her. He was pleasantly surprised to see that she hadn't been wearing anything underneath it and the sight of her marvellous round breasts and firm nipples took his breath away. He pushed her down on the bed and caressed her neck with his lips and his tongue as he climbed on top of her. He sighed into her ear as their chests touched and he could feel her bare skin against him. He easily positioned himself on her and looked into her eyes, making sure that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. His hand slid along the curves he had bared, across her smooth stomach, catching his thumb in her waistband. He soon realized that he didn't need her eyes to give him permission.

She very quickly put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her. They both fumbled hastily with their own jeans and pants, and when they were both naked, he got on top of her again, simply sliding his tongue into her mouth. She hungrily wrapped her legs around him and he slowly slid inside her. She gasped at first, but when he went to move away, afraid he'd hurt her, she clung to him tightly, not letting him leave her. Her fingers coiled in his hair, and she drew his head down to hers, their lips meeting again. She bit her lip and she breathed forcefully into his mouth almost crying out, pulling his hair as he thrust into her again, but she wouldn't let him stop, lifting her hips to meet his. After a few unsteady moments, they were both rocking in a steady motion up and down, back and forth.

He was enthusiastically nibbling her neck and taking mouthfuls of her breasts, occasionally chewing lightly on her nipples, commenting now and then about how she felt around him and how beautiful she was. She was kissing him, and touching him, and when she accidentally bit his ear harder than she had planned, he cried out in mock pain.

"Easy," he laughed. "I've only got one of those." She laughed and bit him again, this time much more gently, tracing the outline of his ear with her tongue. She grinned against his ear as he moaned against her breast. His rocking motions inside her were becoming faster and more urgent and when she moaned in obvious delight, he was gratified. He kissed her through his own peak, and he shuddered and collapsed on top of her. They lay there, unable to detach themselves, panting, hot and sweaty and satiated.

He rolled off and lay down next to her, moulding his body to hers and as he adjusted the covers around their bodies. He kissed the back of her neck and put his arms around hers, resting them on her stomach as his chest pressed against her back. She covered his hands with her own and they held hands, lying comfortably together for moments that they both knew would be all too short. When they had sufficiently caught their breath, they looked at each other, a bit sheepishly. He wanted to say something, but she spoke first.

"It's okay," she said, amused. He nodded his head, and resting it on her shoulder, he nibbled her neck a bit more.

"Hang on," she laughed. "Don't start something you can't finish."

"What makes you think I can't finish?" he smiled, pressing his hips into her arse, nibbling once more at the back of her neck, but he knew that she was thinking the same thing he was: they needed to return to the Great Hall. She slid her pendant from her neck, and twisted her body to put it over his head.

"I want you to have this," she said, smiling, giving him her talisman. "My father gave it to me. It's a Welsh green dragon. He used to play for the national team."

"I can't –"

"Of course, you can. You saved my life. It's a small token." She very delicately caressed his face. "You can remember me when you look at it," she said, eyes shining.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked quietly. She nodded, but he added, "It's a bit personal."

"That's okay," she laughed, looking at the rumpled bedcovers surrounding them. "You can ask me anything."

"It's crazy, but what's your name?"

She laughed and shook her head in disbelief at the madness of it. She put out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Rhiannon Jones."

He took her hand gently in his and kissed the back of it and then the palm and then he found her mouth again.

"I'm very pleased to meet you. I'm George Weasley."

After they returned to the Great Hall, they stood together in the entryway, finding their friends and families, and then they parted with a long kiss neither would soon forget. Rhiannon watched George Weasley return to his family, and she smiled when he turned to glance at her one more time before settling on the floor at his twin's head, his knees touching his brother's hair.

The sun was rising in the sky now in a new world, and soon everyone would know what they had done; the miracle and the sacrifice that had happened at Hogwarts.