Author's Note: Okay, so, yes this IS another one of those time travel stories, but I am really trying to give it my own spin.
I know that there is not a great amount of action in this one, but I wanted to get a feel for the characters as I am still not used to the style of fan fiction. It has been a delightful challenge to try and adapt, though. I am experimenting with combining various styles and tinkering with the storyline, so I would appreciate constructive feedback wherever possible. Please stick with it, though, don't give up on me just yet! I promise things will pick up! There will be much more Tom/Ginny action to come…mwahahaha.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters and associated content, these are owned by J.K. Rowlings and Warner Brothers.

The evening sky was dark, an abyss devoid of moon and stars, repressed by the blanket of thick smog-like clouds which had long plunged the earth into a perpetual haze. This dismal characteristic was further emphasized by the absolute lack of sound. There were no crickets or sign of any life, the world was tomb, vast and dead. The moon, however, would likely have been of little assistance anyway as the wood through which the pair ran was ancient and thick with overgrowth.

Ginny Weasley cursed this darkness and everything else that she could think of as her knee slammed into the trunk of a tree, causing her to stumble and fall. While she did not waste a moment to brush herself off before jumping up to her feet, her companion, impatient as ever, had already wrapped a hand around her upper arm, pulling her along after him. The abrupt action caused her to cry out in surprise.

His grip was crushing as he dragged her behind him, "Damn it, Weasely." The voice hissed, "Do you want to get us killed?!" Against the silence around them he may as well have screamed.

The young woman clenched her jaw and threw her body weight away from him, using the momentum to pull her too-thin arm from his hand. While she stumbled, this time she did not fall, and wiping her forehead with her arm shot a wrathful glare at her companion. "Stuff it, Malfoy. Just go." She was already running by the time she finished, dodging a large stone with a wince. Each step was a struggle that felt as if she was dragging cement blocks behind her. Merlin, when is the last time I stood on my own? When was the last time she had eaten? The young woman's stomach rumbled at the thought.

Why they were running all this way, in the first place the young woman wasn't quite sure. Perhaps to avoid sniffers. The reasoning did not help the pain, however. She felt so weak. Ginny had been in that room, in the dark for so long, it seemed like forever. Well, really she was still in the dark, but at least she was no longer chained or confined. There were no dementors out here wherever Malfoy had brought her. So, there is that, she supposed.

Her body continued to shake with the exertion of their brisk movement, her bones ached, and it felt as though her lungs were on fire. That she was even moving was a miracle in and of itself.

However, the only positive or, possibly negative, to the inane exercise was it gave her the ability to think. Feeling the breeze on her face almost allowed Ginny the moment's memory of what it was like on a broom, again. The pain ebbed away and the corner of her lip twitched up for a fleeting moment. But she soon after collided with a low hanging branch, and her face became solemn once more

"This way, Weasley." Malfoy growled in a voice that had aged markedly since she had heard it all those months ago. It was deeper and had a harsh, unfamiliar rasp. She considered him as they ran and could see he moved in an odd way. The great, holier-than-thou Draco Malfoy limped and generally favoured his right side.

Good, Ginny thought, I hope you suffered as much as the rest of us. Malfoy might have been with her now, but he sure had not been all of those months ago. To be honest she did not trust him, still. She was intelligent enough to know that he wanted something from her, and that she would not be free were it not for that, but his assistance lingered in the back of her mind. Malfoy had knocked out her two executioners and aparated the two of them somewhere seemingly far away. So…again…that is something, Ginny supposed.

Conflicted would not have adequately represented her current feelings.

"If you don't want back in that cursed place," He growled over his shoulder again, "Then hurry up!"

Ginny riled against the reprimand, wanted to remind him where he had helped to put her, what she had been subjected to, but knew it would not help. So, she clenched her jaw and tried to pretend that the pain was not actually pain, and move her legs faster.

Unfortunately, the mention of that place turned her mind towards darker thoughts with nothing but pain to distract her.

She thought of Harry, sweet, heroic, Harry. The great saviour, the chosen one.

His perfect face, the desire of her childhood imaginings, plagued her mind as her foot caught a root. Though she caught herself, Ginny could not stop a tear from sliding down her cheek at the thought of his eyes filled with their quiet confidence, his hands, the little cluster of freckles on his right shoulder.

Harry had been the love of her life.

Dodging a low-hanging limb, a familiar scene flashed to the fore of her mind. She saw Harry looking dishevelled and tired, taking her face into his hands and kissing her as he had never done before. Looking back, he had known it was going to be the last time. Her lips still tingled at the memory, eyes brimming. There he was, looking as beautiful and brave as he ever had, with Hermione and Ron beside him. It had seemed picture perfect. Had it been one of her muggle fantasy books that Hermione had gotten her to read, it would never have ended as it did, there would have been celebration and singing.

All of the lives lost on that day, begun with so much hope.

So many of the horcruxes had been destroyed, everything was going as planned, it should not have ended as it did. It just shouldn't have.

But it had…everything had gone wrong. One moment everyone was standing a strong front before the ever growing throng of Death Eaters and the next, there were bodies everywhere. She watched as Harry's wand broke in face of the Dark Lord's onslaught. The elder wand was too great. She remembered her screams drowning out everything else as Harry fell to the ground in a blanket of green.

Harry, her Harry. Gone in an instant, and with him her hopes, everyone's hopes.

How Cliché. she thought miserably.

A thorn bush grabbed hold of Ginny's dingy sweater pulling at the old threads and scratching shallow welts into her skin. She felt nothing as she remembered the look in her father's eyes as he held his mother motionless in his arms, a death eater approaching behind. She remembered running towards him wand out and her lips beginning to wrap around a curse she had never thought she'd utter. No!

Struggling not to hyperventilate, at the image of her father falling to the ground, her thoughts shifted firmly to the image of Ron and Hermione locked in an unending embrace. Still and cold. Gone…everyone is gone.

It was surprising that it could still elicit such a reaction, but the pain had never numbed.

Her only solace was that she fought until she could not stand or move. But a part of her wondered if she would have been able to save her loved ones, to make more of a difference, if she had been able to bring herself to utter those unforgivable words.

With her mind in such disarray the young woman did not see Malfoy stop at the birth of a clearing. She collided with his back, crumpling backwards, exhaustion finally taking the best of her.

Malfoy looked at her with that familiar sneer, but it lacked its normal venom. It was a tired look, miserable. His eyes, too, were a dull murky grey instead of the striking mercury they had once been. She remembered a time when she had actually admired them, albeit begrudgingly. His face, she further observed, was aged. The deep purple circles under his eyes and gaunt stubble-covered cheeks giving him the look of someone twice his age.

For a moment she felt a pang of something but quickly stifled it, returning the look with all of the anger that had been consuming her over the last few minutes and months before. Though he may be helping her now, it did no excuse the past by any means. He deserved whatever he had gotten, the little fucking snake that he was. Nothing he was subjected to could ever match up to what had been done to her and hers.

"Merlin's sake, Weasley," he hissed, "Are you trying to make as much noise as possible?"

She glowered but said nothing. Hermione was right, you are a little cockroach…

He kept his eyes upon her for another moment before turning his back to her and removing his wand from within the billows of the tattered robes about his shoulders. She felt so vulnerable at the sight of it. Not out of fear, but because it caused Ginny to suddenly remember that a piece of her was missing, an essential aspect of her person. But it was pointless, her wand was little more than a broken stick lying in the ruins of what had once been Hogwarts.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?!" she whispered low.

He raised his hand to quiet her before whispering something barely audible and giving his wand a flick. A small flare flew from the tip, but hung low to the ground and burst into a dull light near the centre of the clearing. Her body tensed and out of habit she pushed herself onto her feet, weakly shifting into a defensive position. She tried and failed to ignore the ache in her lower back and knees as she turned about to scan the area.

In the moments that followed nothing happened, and the utter still silence made Ginny's heart pound in her ears and skin crawl. A feeling of nausea also descended upon her belly and her hands began to shake as her mind cautiously fell to betrayal, brows furrowing.

Her gaze fell upon Malfoy.

However, before she could plan anything more concrete than: If I could just get his wand from him… there was movement in the bushes beyond. Despite the protests in her atrophied muscles and the aches in her joints, Ginny took a few steps back and prepared to run again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a familiar face emerge from the brush, the sight of which, as he walked into the dull light, caused all blood to drain from her face.

Snape.

Jaw dropping, she took another step back and prepared to run. However, with reflexes she hadn't realized Malfoy possessed, he grabbed her arm again and clamped the other hand over her mouth, pulling her with him into the clearing.

Kicking and struggling, she tried biting into his hand, but could not get a piece. However, she did make satisfying contact with her foot and the inside of his right knee. As she struggled, Ginny wished above all else for her wand, so that she could curse this treacherous little bug for betraying her again. He shook her harshly in response, growling in her ear.

"Stop it, Weasley! I didn't risk my life just to bring you here to kill you." She stilled somewhat at his exasperated words, which allowed him to drag her towards that man, the traitor who killed Dumbledore and aided He Who Shall Not Be Named in the final battle.

When he felt her calm Malfoy whispered in her ear, "We need to be quiet, he has eyes and ears everywhere."

Sighing, Ginny nodded once but continued to shoot a withering glare at Snape behind whom Malfoy went to stand. Both looked at her with an unnerving intensity when she was finally standing on her own. Without thinking she did the most natural and admittedly cliché action she could think of: she slapped Snape across the jaw as hard as she could.

He did not react. Taking the assault in silence he pulled a handkerchief from his robes and blotted the corner of his lips. They were still looking at her in silence when she took a step back, shoulders heaving from the exertion, but their scrutiny caused her to shift her weight uncomfortably as they stood in silence. She got no satisfaction out of hitting him, if anything it made her feel worse, but that may have just been the stinging in her palm.

Again, her lack of weapon troubled her. Two of the people I hate most in the world. Unbelievable.

"Miss Weasley," Snape eventually broke the silence in that distinct, clipped voice of his, even now sounding as if she had submitted a substandard paper.

She did not deign to respond.

"Contrary to what you may believe, I am not your enemy."

Again, silence.

"But, we don't have time, and thus cannot give you any more assurance that I am not here to harm you and I…"

She shook her head violently and spat on his shoes. "Save it, I don't care…really" She sniffed, crossing her thin arms over her chest, "Just tell me why you decided to free me from hell."

Snape looked mildly displeased, pursing his lips during her little tirade, studying her.

She felt her cheeks flush despite herself. Ginny had not seen her own appearance in something just less than a year. Where she and the survivors of the battle had been taken had neither windows nor mirrors. But she knew that she must look like Hell. She could feel that her hair was far too long, falling to her waist, and matted beyond belief. The days that she would go without food had caused her body to sink into itself, bones and veins protruding all over. Her normally pale skin looked virtually translucent and when she touched her face she could feel how gaunt and sunken her features had become.

However, instead of feeling ashamed or embarrassed, she lifted her chin.

Take a good look and see what you have done.

After another moment Snape pulled something from within his robes, something she recognized instantly. Ginny's mouth fell open in disbelief.

"How did you get a time turner?!" her voice hitched.

"Hmmm…the Ministry was not the only protector of precious treasures."

She did not bother pressing him for information; McGonagall had gotten one to give to Hermione, after all. Just because the Ministry of Magic's store of them had been destroyed did not mean there were no more, particularly in a time with no real guiding authority. Where fear and panic ran rife, it was no wonder there would be a few treasures falling through the cracks.

"Alright, well…what does this have to do with me?" She tried to gather herself, tried to keep the interest from her voice.

He paused, flicking a lock of his long hair from his face with an unnecessarily dramatic flair "We're asking you to go on what could very well be a suicide mission, Miss Weasley." Ginny frowned. "Go back to 1943 and stop Him."

Her mouth dropped. Were they absolutely crazy?! They must have been, for neither even had the grace to look uncomfortable. Snape's inscrutable mask was ever in place, his gaze penetrating as ever.

"W-why? Why would you two want…"

"You are not the only one that has suffered, Weasley." Malfoy interrupted with a hiss.

That sapped her of the awe born from the turner. All of her self-control was required to keep her from screaming and attacking him.

When she finally did speak, she wished, that she did not sound so much like she was on the verge of sobbing. "No…no I'm not." She paused, "There are thousands out there who, like me, watched their families and friends die. I don't know how many of us you threw into Azkaban after that battle but from the crying and screaming that put me to sleep every night, I know there are many. This is not even to mention the countless muggles and muggle-borns that your kind," She nearly spat in his face, "have killed in the name of your master."

"I think of those that have suffered and still suffer every night, every day. But you, by Merlin, you are not one of them."

Malfoy had the good grace to at least look down as she seethed. His face flushing in what may have once been an appealing shade.

"You got everything you and your despicable family wanted. The streets are covered in the bodies of muggles, muggle borns, and blood traitors. Are you happy?!" Her voice broke once again from the shrill whisper.

His eyes were glassy when he looked up to meet hers again, a rage that she well recognized etched within. "He killed my father and muh…mother 2 months ago."

Breath hitching in her throat, Ginny's jaw clenched, but she did not back down or apologize. They got what they deserved, she thought instinctively. But after a moment she found herself disgusted at her own thoughts. It was a bit off putting, realizing she was not the same girl she had once been. But then, Ginny had not been that girl for a very long time.

"Might I ask for some amount of maturity?"

She turned on him, the abrupt movement causing black spots to fly before her vision What she wouldn't do for burger. "Why me, why now?" Snape sighed and looked as if he was about to lecture her.

"Miss Weasley, we only recently came upon this object. Your ordered execution as a chance to retrieve you was something of a…forseen coincidence." He cleared his throat, eyes darting around quickly before returning to her. "And as for it being you…well you have intimate knowledge of Him when he was still...human shall we say. That is more than anyone else has."

That title made Ginny shiver, suddenly feeling small and cold. She closed her eyes, his face passing across her vision. It was disgusting that that boy (man, ghost?) could still make some part of her twist. She was weak, too weak for this. Why was it her? Why?

"You know him better than me. You fought for him, followed him."

"Yes but we do not know Him. You once told Dumbledore that he shared information about himself with you."

"No it was...it was more onesided."

"But he did share with you."

"N-no well yes but not that much and he..."

"As I said."

"I don't..."

"Did you not understand me when I said there were no other alternatives?"

"But can't you…" God she hated that he could make her feel like a student again.

"You do understand how a time turner works, don't you? Do I resemble a student?"

"Well…well no b-but couldn't you just pop in and stop him?"

"Pop in?" He sounded incredulous, "I would have no chance of gaining access to him in Hogwarts, and we do not know enough about his whereabouts to access him otherwise." He did not wait for her to respond, "This is not up for discussion it is the only way. You must stop him somehow, kill him if you can. But he must be stopped."

Her lip quivered. Can I kill someone? She wondered, the thought causing a shudder to run down her spine and hug herself. Even in the battle she had not thrown a killing curse or injured anyone beyond repair. Yes, she wounded and incapacitated, but Kill? That was something else entirely.

God, why me?

Bitting her cracked lip absently, a small drop of blood welled as she thought. The coppery taste was surprisingly soothing, familiar. When her gaze rose up to Malfoy, she saw desperation, and he looked so broken. Snape, alternatively, still wore an inscrutable mask, but he, too, looked tired, his shoulders were not held in their normal rigidity. She knew they would not have come to her if there was any other way.

She would do it. I have to. She thought stolidly, knowing Harry would.

So, it seemed she had little choice. She would do it for everyone that she had loved and lost. Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Mum, Dad, Bill, Hermione, Neville, Dean…all of them. She would do this for them. She would kill a man for them. A single man. Besides he wasn't a person, anyway, Voldemort was a monster.

Ginny's eyes went wide and her blood froze, head shooting from side to side. God what had she done, fucking stupid. Does it work if…

A sound not far from them had all three heads turning immediately.

Fuck fuck fuckidy fuck fuck

Snape lunged at her then and she barely suppressed a scream as he threw the turner over her head. He grabbed the sides of her face, as Malfoy pulled free his wand and looked around. The look in his eyes belayed his terror, but they were intense, ready. God he looks so old, maybe I…

Snape pulled her attention back to him, his face mere inches from hers. For the first time she could see the burst capillaries in his eyes speaking of sleepless nights and pain. Again she felt a pang of something not unlike pity, but she stopped the feeling dead. She needed to be cold, if she was going to do this, heartless.

"We do not know what will happen. To my knowledge no one has ever travelled so far back, it could very well kill you." He took in a deep breath, and in the silence Ginny could not help the shiver that again ran down her spine. "But do try to avoid that."

She breathed, nodding solemnly.

Something moved in the trees behind them, causing her to jump, lip quivering. Could He really sense His name from a thought? Perhaps they had been patrolling here anyway, Malfoy had been concerned about noise, after all.

Malfoy met her eyes for a moment, some undefinable emotion passing across his features before running for the clearing where she could hear voices and movement. A though briefly occurred that perhaps she should run, escape Snape's grasp and just disappear. But not only did her muscles object, but Snape had such a fierce hold on her it was unlikely that there would be a chance to leave in anyway but one.

The sounds grew increasingly louder as the minutes wore on. Where is Malfoy? As the thought crossed her mind the sounds stopped abruptly and the young woman glanced behind Snape to the tree line, her anxiety rising to a fever pitch. Just as abruptly the silence turned to screams. Heart pounding in her chest, her gazed turned beseechingly back to Snape.

The impassive mask had fallen back into place, again he was blank and unreadable. "It is set. You must only turn it once."

"Okay. I-"

He brought his lips abruptly down upon her forehead. She did not breathe for a moment, and had no idea what to do. She knew that she should feel disgusted after all that he had done, so why did she actually feel comforted.

"Miss Weasley…Ginny. I have faith." He paused another moment before pulling something from his robes that looked like papers, but she did not look to closely as another loud scream distracted her. When they were grasped in her small hands, Snape pushed her behind him and pulled free his wand.

"GO!" He called just as six figures emerged from the darkness, into the clearing.

Her hands shook, her body felt suddenly drained of energy as she laid eyes on them. It was Him followed by several masked followers. Heart beating with such a desperate ferocity that Ginny thought it might beat through her chest. It felt as if she was paralysed, her legs refusing to move. Was it exhaustion? Fear? A hex? She did not know, but she did know that she could not remove her eyes from that monster.

He looked more serpent than man, a hideous abomination of heaven and hell that had been let loose upon this world. Perhaps the muggles were right, and it was divine punishment. Looking at him at that moment, Ginny felt, again, as if she would vomit, seeing him wear that satisfied, victorious grin, and she swore she could see blood staining his robes. Malfoy?

Her blood boiled with a paralysing hatred. This thing had taken everything from her, had been the cause of all of her suffering, and here he was completely untroubled. Voldemort had destroyed her in every possible way, and yet it was not even a drop in the bucket, so to speak.

"Severus…" The voice rasped, causing an infuriating lurch in her stomach "Still a weakness for red-heads?"

Snape did not speak but he did glance at her from the corner of his eye, his harsh boring gaze ordering her to leave, to get away from the place before it was too late.

He was apparently not as covert as thought, for the Dark Lord followed his eyes. He inspected her for a moment, scorching her like fire. "You? How int…"

When she made no movement, Snape did instead, raising his wand and interrupting the Voldemort with a holler of some incantation unknown to her, which resulted in what felt like an explosion. The last thing her eye saw clearly was a lone figure standing unconcerned amongst dark billowing clouds, looking through them and into her.

Screams and light.

She was blinded and thrown from her feet across the clearing, shoulder slamming into a stump when gravity decided to once again assert itself. When she opened her eyes, her gaze was shrouded by unkempt red hair but would not have been able to see, anyway, through the red hot smoke which burned her face and lungs. She was surrounded by movement and yelling, incantations being thrown all about her. It seemed as if Snape was holding his own, but as the thought passed a calm voice broke through, almost conversationally. "Avada Kedavra."

Everything went silent, and she knew that she would not have another chance. Weakly lifting her hand to her throat she groped blindly until she found the delicate time turner. Blessedly it was still in one piece. As footsteps approached she shed a quiet tear and whispered an apology.

She turned the dial and her world went dark.