Ginny was trapped.
All around her she could hear the muffled sounds of battle, stifled cries and dull cracks, heavy thuds as bodies and spells crashed into the thick stone walls holding her prisoner. Occasionally dust and bits of rock came sifting down from the ceiling; the room was so quiet she could hear them settling on the cold floor.
She stood close to Tonks, the woman's hair blazing red. Ginny held her wand aloft, aimed at the doors. The noise of battle drew closer, the pounding and screaming becoming more distinct. The crashes were sending more debris spiraling down on her head, spidery cracks were beginning to form on the walls.
She was more terrified than she had ever been, but her fear was so intense it transcended reason, blanked out any thought of flight. She had crossed over from being so afraid she couldn't move into being so afraid it was all she could think of doing. She wanted to be fighting alongside the Order, wanted to be defending Hogwarts, defending life as she and everyone she cared about knew it. She wanted to find Hermione. She needed to find her; knowing she was so close but not being able to be near her, to protect her, was far more intense than the numbing fear.
The days leading up to the battle had been excruciating. Ginny had received few updates about Hermione's condition, only that it was improving, that she and Ron and Harry had left Shell Cottage for parts unknown. She hadn't discovered anything else about Bellatrix's interrogation; her fevered imagination had filled in the yawning blanks with every terrible possibility and still she knew the truth must be far worse. Violent images of Bellatrix torturing Hermione, making her suffer, making her scream swam through her head constantly. Her father had been especially gentle with her, careful to couch his dark pronouncements in the few scraps of good news he had been able to cull from the Order. Mrs. Weasley had resumed her ordinary brusque, bustling personality though Ginny could see through her attempts at normalcy to the barely-repressed anxiety hiding just beneath the surface. They hadn't spoken much since the first news, the silence both tense and focused.
Ginny still wasn't sure if her mother knew the truth. She trusted her father to maintain their secret, if it was one; he had been the closest thing Ginny had to a confidante since Bill had left. Although he was several years older than her, nearly an adult by the time she was born, he had always been the one she felt the closest to. She would have told Bill, she knew he would understand.
Ginny understood perfectly now. Her love for Hermione was overwhelming, the desire to be near her, to safeguard her, was so strong it caused a constant dull ache in her chest. The memory of Bellatrix only made her feel sick, dirty. She shuddered when she remembered her complicity, she forced herself to replay the scenes in her mind Bellatrix binding her, Bellatrix biting her, Bellatrix making her scream until her throat was a hard knot and her breathing became labored and shallow. She forced herself to watch it unfold in her mind over and over, punishing herself for betraying Hermione.
A deafening crack just outside made the walls groan, the buttresses in the ceiling lurched ominously. Tonks grabbed her and tucked her under her arm, shielding her head. Suddenly the door swung open and Harry stood, looking deceptively still, framed against the furious fighting going on behind him. She could hardly hear him but he was indicating that she had to leave, without a second thought she bolted out the door and into the fray.
Action exploded around her. Spells flew through the air, striking fighters seemingly at random. Ginny gripped her wand and tried to get her bearings as quickly as she could. She wove through the fighting, bolts of light sizzling past her. She searched for Hermione, darting around bodies falling, weapons crashing all around her.
Hermione.
Someone grabbed her, pulling her aside roughly as a hot flash screamed past her. She spun blindly, firing a jinx into the crowd below. She felt a momentary flush of pride as a group of Death Eaters fell, but quickly resumed her search.
The battle raged for what felt like an eternity, and no sign of Hermione. She thought she glimpsed Bellatrix once, thought she saw the woman's dark eyes piercing her even through the crush of bodies. Cold revulsion spilled through her, she aimed her wand at the spot and fired off a curse, the red light streaking through the air. When she looked at the spot a crumpled body lay twisted on the ground and for a moment she felt dizzying exhilaration, she had done it, she had defeated Bellatrix, she had avenged herself, had avenged Hermione. But someone tripped over the body, pulling the hood down, it was not her.
Rage flooded her. She had wanted so badly for it to be Bellatrix, wanted to kill her, wanted to do it herself. She felt the lust for death blooming dark inside her, could taste it like blood in her mouth. She wanted to kill.
Ginny had never felt it before. It was surprisingly similar to the way she felt during a Quidditch match, the same mix of adrenaline and clarity of purpose. But this—
She whirled around, firing curses into the crowd. She no longer cared who she hit; they all had the same beautiful, poisonous face, the sounds of battle were twisting into a low laugh, every scream became Hermione's, she wanted to hurt someone, she wanted to kill—
And then it stopped. She was in a classroom, it was dark and she couldn't make out precisely where.
Hermione.
She stood, shaking with exhaustion and anger. Blood ran down the side of her face but she didn't look seriously hurt, Ginny gasped, she was so close, finally, finally, after so many months of waiting, now she was there, in the flesh, Ginny couldn't stop the rush of blood from flooding her body, couldn't help the tingling excitement that crackled through her veins as she stared at the girl across the room.
She was on the point of bolting to her, flinging her arms around her, pulling her close, when she noticed the mass of people had become a river flowing toward the main doors to the castle. Nobody thought, nobody moved for a moment, and then they all turned and joined the rush outside.
A cloaked figure lay motionless, a hand flung limp on the ground. It was Harry.
Ginny screamed, echoing Hermione's cry. He was dead. He was dead, it was over. All Ginny could think of was Hermione, couldn't think of anything else, the destruction of the universe was wholly encompassed by the thought that now Hermione stood no chance, she would die, she would die, it was her fault, if she hadn't let her go, if she had refused
She rushed to him collapsing on the ground next to Harry's body. Hermione fell next to her, Ginny could feel the warmth of her body, could smell her skin sharp with sweat and blood, but still sweet. Hermione's face was pale, her skin cold as marble as Ginny's fingers brushed against hers.
She was back in the Burrow, she was touching Hermione's hand, she was in the bathroom, Hermione pausing for a fraction of a second at the sight of her body, this is what a girl's body looks like, she was walking across the cold tile floor and pressing her lips to Hermione's briefly, so briefly, she was there in the field, exploring Hermione's flesh, this is what a girl's body feels like, she was in her bed, she was tasting her
Hermione let out a shuddering moan as she reached a trembling hand toward Harry's face. Ginny's heart twisted hard in her breast as she looked at the two of them, the girl she loved, the boy who loved her, and she felt a great cracking sadness splitting her in two. She had a momentary flash of hope that Hermione's death would be swift. She knew her own would be drawn out, a blood traitor, she knew it would be Bellatrix.
At that moment a cold laugh filtered through the air. It was her. Ginny jerked her head up and saw Bellatrix lurking at the edge of the woods ringing the castle. A group of Death Eaters were arranged in a semicircle around a tall, commanding figure. Him. Bellatrix stood by his side, a perverse grin twisting her face, her eyes blazing.
Bloodlust erupted in Ginny again, it was all she could do to prevent herself from seizing her wand and killing the woman where she stood. Hermione stiffened slightly at the sound, shame and rage flared through Ginny as images flashed unbidden across her mind, the same horrible images of Bellatrix torturing Hermione, mingled now with acid memories of Bellatrix's hands on her own body.
The world exploded again.
Ginny ran blindly up the steps back into the entrance of the castle. She didn't know why she was still fighting, why any of them were still fighting, but she sent curses flying through the crowd with numb dissociation from the action around her. She had lost sight of Hermione again, but there, just there, across the Hall—
Ginny stopped dead. Bellatrix froze in her tracks, a wide, feral smile cracking across her drawn face. Their eyes locked, a hot bolt of fear and rage twisting in Ginny's stomach as Bellatrix raised her wand, Ginny could see the venomous green light pulsing through the air in slow motion, could see her death soaring toward her, the low heavy laugh ringing in her ears, the taste of blood sharp on her tongue, the green light snaking toward her and in an instant she ducked out of the way, the heat of the curse searing her skin. The smell of burning hair filled her nose. And then—
Mrs. Weasley came from nowhere, blazing with such fury Ginny thought absurdly that she might burst into flames. Instead of running, Bellatrix cackled high and malicious, the crowd parting as they faced each other. Ginny was rooted to the ground, her body frozen, watching helpless as her mother dueled with Bellatrix.
The room was silent save for the screams of spells as they shot through the air, the loud cracking of the paving stones, the high taunts of Bellatrix as she danced around the curses. And then—
A ribbon of green light brighter than anything Ginny had ever seen wrapped around Bellatrix's body. The woman stood for a moment, openmouthed, and fell to the ground.
At that instant something dark and terrible roared in Ginny's head, a piercing shriek of rage and pain, swelling, spiraling, Ginny's blood burned, she felt as though her body were trying to pull itself into pieces, as though something were trying to force its way out through her skin, and as she watched Bellatrix fall light exploded in her brain, flooding her.
It was over.
And then it was over.
The deafening roar of the crowd blocked out any other sound. The dawn spread over the horizon, blanketing the world in a golden glow. Ginny found Harry, worked through the throng and threw her arms around him, kissing him on the cheek, squeezing him as hard as she could. He looked at her, an exhausted smile on his face. She kissed him again and let go, determined to get to Hermione.
The girl was standing nearby, though Ginny had to search for her in the crowd. She was pale, drooping with fatigue, but smiling. Ginny pushed through the people and stood by her side, waiting for Hermione to notice her.
She turned a moment later and saw Ginny. Her mouth opened, her eyes filled with tears.
Ginny took her hand and squeezed it hard, then reached up and wiped a streak of blood from her cheek. Neither of them said anything; the battle had drained them both of the capacity to speak.
Hermione's hand clasped over Ginny's, still pressed to her cheek. They exchanged a long look, then made their way through the crowd to a stand of trees.
After several silent minutes, Ginny spoke.
"Hermione, I love you." It was the only thing she could think to say.
"Oh Ginny," Hermione cried weakly, throwing her arms around her. "Oh, Ginny." Hot tears fell on Ginny's skin, she felt her own pricking the corners of her eyes. They held each other silently for a moment.
"Are you all right?" Ginny whispered. Hermione nodded, swallowing hard. "I mean--"
"I know what you mean," Hermione said quietly. "Was it true?"
Ginny didn't know what to say. She didn't want to destroy the moment, didn't want to turn it into something ugly and painful. She nodded slightly, her eyes downcast, teardrops pooling on her hands.
"And now?"
Ginny tried to speak, her throat burning. "I love you," she managed to say. "I only love you, Hermione, so much, I didn't know what I was doing, oh Hermione, I'm so sorry."
Hermione was silent. She looked out across the landscape, the rosy dawn fading into bright day. She bit her lip.
"She said terrible things," she whispered finally. "Ugly things."
"I know," Ginny said.
"That was the worst part, hearing those things, even imagining that they might be true. Everything else was just—was just pain."
"I know."
"And then imagining them—after. It was the worst thing she could have done, and she knew it, Ginny. She knew what it would do. What it did."
"Can you forgive me?" Ginny asked, her voice trembling. Hermione sat quietly again, picking at the grass. She looked as though she were about to speak several times, but said nothing. "Hermione?" Ginny reached out tentatively, but Hermione shifted slightly away from her fingers. Ginny's heart twisted excruciatingly in her chest.
"I don't know," she said at last. Ginny jerked away, nausea rolling through her. "It's just—I'll never be able to get those things out of my head."
Ginny didn't speak. She curled up tightly on the grass, facing away from Hermione. Silent sobs wracked her body. After what seemed an eternity she felt the gentle pressure of Hermione's hand on her back.
"Ginny?" she said softly. "Can I ask you a question?" Ginny nodded, struggling to breathe through her sobs. "What happened—what happened when she died? Did you feel anything?"
Ginny took a moment to steady her breath, swallowing her tears. She breathed raggedly. "Yes," she whispered. "It felt—it felt like something was ripped out of me. Something awful, and she was dead, and it was gone, and suddenly I felt so light."
Hermione didn't speak. She settled on the ground behind Ginny, pressing her body against Ginny's, her arms sliding around her waist. She nestled her head in the crook of Ginny's neck, her breath warm and soft against her skin. "So she's really gone," Hermione said. "Good."
They lay on the grass for a long time. Ginny was completely numb, the emotion drained out of her.
Hermione stood and swept bits of brush from her clothes. "We should go back," she said.
Ginny sat up. "Hermione?"
Hermione knelt next to her, cupping her face in her hands. "It will take time, love," she whispered. "But you know the best part?"
Ginny shook her head, sniffling.
"We've got loads of it now." She leaned forward and kissed Ginny softly. Starbursts exploded behind Ginny's eyes, her body felt warm, heavy, the sweetness of Hermione's mouth flooding through her.
Hermione pulled her up. "Come on," she said, smiling gently. "I'm sure there's food."
"I'm starving," Ginny said with a wan grin.
"And you could do with a bath," Hermione replied as playfully as she could imagine. "Plus, your mum is probably worried sick."
Ginny threw her arms around Hermione and held her tightly for a moment as the sunlight grew stronger, cascading over them in golden waves. It was over. It was beginning.