A cloak swished along the pathway, so softly it was almost threatening in and of itself. The night was still and quiet, almost as if it was waiting for something. The stars were temporarily blotted out of a small rabbit's viewpoint, as a dark figure passed by. Silently but swiftly, light footsteps tapped against the path, up to a small door. The figure knocked on the door.
It swung open. "Ron, I'm so happy you're –" a woman with frizzy, curly brown hair opened the door, her face lit up with expectancy. She froze as soon as she saw the figure, almost hidden in the dark cloak. Seemingly out of nowhere, she drew her wand out.
Her voice trembled a little, but for the most part it remained commendably steady as she cried, "Who are you? I warn you, I am a trained Auror, so whatever you're up to, you won't succeed…"
Ever so cautiously, the figure dropped its hood. A mane of fiery red hair came tumbling out. The woman looked utterly terrified, almost as if she was staring a ghost in the eyes. Curiously, she never once dropped her wand, even though it was clear she recognized the person.
"Hermione, it's me," a woman's voice drifted towards the doorway. Hermione squeaked with fright, and looked as thought she was about to fall.
"Get away from here," she said with a hint of anger in her voice. "You made your choice, I know you did, and if you think you're going to fool me again…"
"I never meant to –"
"You brought them there, Ginny!" Hermione yelled, almost shrieked, hysterically. "I trusted you. I believed you. And then you brought them, and you led them! You…you were about to sacrifice your own family! I saw you… I… I saw Seamus's face…" she choked back a sob.
"Hermione, I had no choice!"
"You had every choice! You told me you just wanted to attend the wedding…make right with your parents…was it Malfoy who put you up to that? Was it?"
"Nobody put me up to it."
"I just don't understand why…"
"It… it was complicated. I did what I had to do. I didn't like it, but sometimes, sacrifices must be made, to better –"
Hermione shook her head fervently, and her curls flew around her head as she covered her ears as if in pain.
"No, no, shut up, stop it –"
"—to better our situations in this world, to keep things going as they should."
"And how should things keep going?" she asked bitterly.
The second girl, called Ginny, hesitated. "Sometimes the hardest path, the path that gets your hands dirty, is the one that must be taken…and if some will not stoop down to do what needs to be done, then others need to take their place."
Hermione made a scoffing, disdainful noise.
"Listen," Ginny said, practically pleading, "I have only done what was absolutely necessary."
"Did your husband tell you that?"
She looked as if she'd been slapped in the face.
"Don't you dare bring my husband into this…"
"Why not? He's the one who changed you!"
"It was not a change for the worse! For the first time in my life, I saw the truth, Hermione! I could, finally, see a clear vision for the future – a vision filled of things that are too glorious to even imagine!"
For a few seconds, she just stood there, gaping at Ginny. A tear suddenly welled up in her eye and slipped down her cheek.
"Who are you?" Hermione whispered.
She paused. "I'm Ginny."
Hermione shook her head. "No. No, you're not. The Ginny Weasley I knew was always a good, brave, noble person who fought for what she believed in – for what she knew was right."
"There is no absolute right! Things are never black and white, they're always in more shades of gray than you realise…"
"You're right. I don't realise that. And I will believe in absolutes and black and white until I die."
"That is simply narrow-minded and foolish of you. Your horizon will certainly never widen as long as you keep that outlook…"
"It's an outlook you once shared!" she cried. "It's an outlook Ginny Weasley shared. That girl I knew as my best friend. But this woman… this stranger… this… Ginevra Malfoy… I don't know. I'm convinced I'll never understand this new Death Eater."
She hissed in pain as if she'd been stabbed and clutched her left arm. Hermione chuckled mirthlessly.
"Oh, that's right. He marked you, didn't he? Did you wound any shred of dignity and freedom you had left to gain slavery to a master?"
"SHUT IT!" she roared. She had whipped out her own wand suddenly. Hermione's eyes grew wide, but she didn't open her mouth.
She pointed it at Hermione's throat, glaring with a hate that seemed almost inhuman. "You know nothing," she growled. "You sit there on your soapbox and preach at me in all your Gryffindor nobility with the naivety of a small child! You have never felt the call of temptation, naturally, because to even consider such a thing is horrific to you. Have you ever tasted the Dark? Have you ever thought about the principles you so proudly stand by?"
"Ginny…Ginny, stop…" Hermione croaked as she raised her neck higher to try and avoid the tip of her wand.
"You were right," she said harshly. "Ginny was dead and buried a long time ago. I'm Ginevra now. I've always been Ginevra, really. But don't you dare sit there and judge me. You. Know. Nothing. Draco and, yes, the Dark Lord offered me the world and all it offers, when my 'friends' wouldn't even offer me a real place in their lives. Little Ginny Weasley. Utterly helpless. Am I helpless now, Hermione? Am I?"
"Gin – ny…" she said sotto voce. Angrily, she pointed her wand harder into her Adam's apple and stared into Hermione's terrified brown eyes. A stab of regret ran fleetingly through her, but she crushed it quickly. A flash of green light flooded the otherwise dark neighborhood, and then it was over.
She gave a quick, jerky motion with one hand, and instantly what had looked to be only shadows peeled away from the walls and garden and stood silently behind her. Suddenly, she felt very weary. "Get rid of the body," she commanded, willing herself to keep all emotion out of her voice, "and search the house. We must find the Dark Lord's horcrux." They mumbled their assents, and then swept inside.
As soon as they were gone, she stumbled down the threshold and leaned against a large oak tree. Her very bones seemed to be shaking and rising up against her, whispering words of shame. A dark figure slowly approached her from behind.
"Hello, Draco," she said. The figure didn't seem surprised whatsoever.
"You did what you had to," he said simply.
"I don't need to talk about it right now," she snapped. "Don't treat me like…like I'm a ticking bomb or something. I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. You go on inside…you're of more value when you're using your two eyes to search."
He gave a curt nod, and then turned and went inside.
Sighing, she looked out over the tiny village that was nestled far below the Burrow's steep hill. Lights were on, and she could faintly hear sounds of partying. It was Christmas Eve, after all. But to Ginny, those sounds seemed to clang unpleasantly in her ear. Was it possible that some were still laughing at a time like this? Was it possible for such happiness to still exist? It seemed everyone had it but her.
Dragging herself down the path, she sat herself down on the very tip of the hill. From this point of view, she could see a few children playing just outside the village. How many children had she killed in cold blood? It was so hard to keep count. How many people had she killed over the short span of the last few years? Probably somewhere around a hundred. She stared at her wand, holding it away from her as if it had caused her to commit the act. But deep down inside of her, she knew…she had done it. She'd trapped herself. And now… now there was no way to get out.
Make that a hundred and one, she thought.
For the second time that night, the children of the village gasped in awe at the green light that filled up the entire night sky.