Harry Potter and the Pattern of Fate Redue by Sadsack's newAccnt

by SadSackII

Book 1 The Serpent's Truth: Truth about one founder is not what is taught. Did he see more and be more than taught? Harry and Co. are about to find out that the universe and magic is not what they've learned. Will they survive? Can they grow and return in time to save the school, world, and all they love? pro OOC Ginny(non-fanon or canon) Harry/Multi read AN for more warnings.

34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: I am not J K Rowling or Robert Jordan and their worlds of Harry Potter and the Wheel of Time. These two created the fun little worlds I have decided to play in with no thought of profit to myself. So I promise that if I did own these I wouldn't have had Hermione with Ron, though I would have been happy to see her be married to Rand al'Thor if ever the two worlds should meet.

Nor am I Radaslab but I do love his stories.

Author's Note: this chapter is both a changing point for Ginny. And is alsu a shout out to other writers and fanfictions in total as they help keep me sane and sober. Writing a story is too bloody hard to be trolled by halfwits or those who miss what is written because the did not read the original books. So lotsa love to my fellow writers as well as my treasured readers.

Chapter Thirty Three: Riders of the Wheel

Cold lapping water whirls in tide pools as an insistent rocking lifts of the high tide jostles a tired woozy teenaged witch from her nightmare laden slumbers. Images and visions too horrific to contemplate in the waking hours of life haunt her feverish unfocused mind.

Cackling gull calls chatter insanely around her, hurting her sore put head. Thoughts of screaming at the winged rats has her try to sit up, the filthy feathered blighters were even taking the occasional sharp nipping pecks of her exposed flesh so they deserve far worse from her. Unfortunately she is hardly able to think, let alone embrace Saidar to send the rotten things to a painful end.

Pain blinds her as panic scratches and claws the edges of her sanity when she is held in place by her battered chest. If not for her legs having free movement she'd be twice as frightened at the gnawing fear of paralysis buried in her heart since her days as silly girl trapped by her blankets in the night. As it is, she is brought back fresh to the sensations of men and other women using magic to restrain her for the worst torments a twisted soul can take from a child and yet leave the dear thing still breathing. In all these moments is the overwhelming sense of powerlessness.

Haunting memories that overlay the bright daylight burning her salt drowned eyes. Writhing in the fight with these evil sods with all her willpower, she finally is rescued from the momentary madness when cool reason in the worn out corners of her mind tells her she is able to fight back this time. Before she was bound by dark powers forbidding her the right to resist. Something she is free from following her training in the White Tower.

Falling back in sobbing loneliness, she bumps her head hard on solid wood under her. Hazy fragments come together of the Shadowborn storm butchering the ill fated Fair Eyed Lad and those poor deluded souls attempting to set sail across the well named Sea of Storms during the storm season nonetheless. Ghostly sensations of a witch, her girlfriend whose lips sear her own with a passionate parting. Vague barely comprehensible words buzz in her waterlogged ears of a message she wishes to never have heard. And yet she missed them from her memory beyond this infernal buzzing, which gives rise to her cursing the loss and the noise robbing her of cognizant thoughts.

Laying on this bed of wood, she takes to weeping in her loss. Her Circle, whom had been depending on her to be strong and united with them. Luna had begged her to stay right there to face down this storm together. Par had been injured and it was up to Ginny to get them both to safety, as a warrior woman of worth. Then there is her Harry, her first true love and the man who has rescued her a thousand times over. She didn't even truly try going to his aid when he absolutely needed her to. Now she is alone, and her loves are all vanished from her life as if simply erased. Mistakes or unneeded extras that the Pattern has discarded with the rubbish of history. Like most garbage runs, something is forgotten in the haste to get it done, and she is left as that bit of refuse. However she is left aching to rejoin them, to simply die and let the Pattern reclaim her. She felt the tears of longing to do it and have her Harry sweep her up in his arms, and they will both be kissed into blissful submission by their Circle.

Lightly she feels her chest, to understand how and why she is restrained from getting up. After she figures that out she may well walk out silent as a ghost, to enter willingly into the deep to where her family of friends and lovers no doubt are buried below the waves by that life taking storm.

Her hand brushes a metal clasp as her sleeve catches on a metal snag. Feeling with both hands now while wishing she could look down to see the culprit, her fingers find its an ornate leather belt hastily cinching her down to this bit of uncomfortable wood. Taking care to undo her restraint after a nick or two by devious metal work braids covering the surface of the black length, it is a difficult arduous task. Her patience is rewarded as she is eventually freed in a unanticipated rolling flop. Splashing into the now calm waters of the sea she finds herself on a rocky beach with the board floating a good six inches above the tidal surface.

Spitting up salty ocean water she is caught in a moments panic of drowning in the tidal pool when she keeps slipping on the wet stones under her feet. During one of these wild thrashings about she knocks loose some of the thick muck gathered in the rocky sea shallows, turning the pool into a blackish green mire. Falling in again she makes a wild grab for the edge of the shutter or pool, what she manages is to grip a thin chain stuck in the sea weed choked depths. Pulling it loose more by accident than actual attempt to liberate it she is momentarily stupefied by it's presence and design. Half floating in the filthy salt water, she studies what this was she dug up inadvertently.

It was a necklace she sees by its endless circular length though it has no beginning or end with a closure. Instead it is long enough to loop around a witch's neck three to for times with ease, yet it also held a pendant of a Dragon eating its own tail interwoven through a set of seven wagon wheels. This pendant was not the most astounding feature of it, nor is the fact that each link in the chain is a tiny wheel made of differing precious gems. None of that was what surprises her most, that honor went to its being absolutely clean of filth or wear and tear.

Deciding it was something worth keeping she winds it around her neck with a sense of having rescued something, if not the people she loves and needs.

Indistinct flashes of her spotty memory tell her that she knew this shutter and the belt, but that it was meant to save someone far more precious than herself. This had been her plan in a way for her girlfriend, not herself. Why did it happen that she was the one strapped to the shutter?

Turning into a watery mass, her limbs lose cohesion and strength to keep her standing by her own power. The dim taste of Par's lips on her own taunt her as her memory focuses on dredging up the fractured past. Something terribly went awry if she were in need of rescuing if her Par was forced to flip the script and toss her up on this thing instead of what was going to be.

Bitter hot tears replace the angry ones of before. Knowledge of the fact that her girlfriend's self sacrifice was for her tears out her heart. First it was Harry against the basilisk looking for a tasty morsel, next is her Luna braving Elaida's cruelty, now it is Parvati delivering her to safety in defiance of a nightmare storm. Folding into herself as the tide water tugs and jerks on her, Ginny breaks down and cries inconsolably. Was she cursed by the Pattern to be the baneful reason her lovers face horrors?

Taunting gulls taking pot shots at her, has her give into the wicked Wheel to stand back up and woozily take in her sun drenched environs. She is on a long empty stretch of nowhere all by herself with a roiling but calmer sea out beyond the cliff like walls of rock ledges. If not for a tall seemingly endless forest running the length of the place she'd feel certain she may have been sent to a different mirror world altogether.

Taking stock of this and her options as best she can with her headache, she decides on a direction that will take her off the beach and the devil spawned gulls relentlessly assaulting her. Tugging along the floating shutter life raft, she heads inland into the trees. She isn't certain why she is bringing the shutter that traitorously took her away from her Parvati. It let her abandon one of the lights of her life so she should burn the bloody thing, however a niggling feeling it was more than simply that it is there. In the back of her mind, mocking her through the tremendous pounding of her head, she is aware of her Weasley raising that will never give up any useful bit of junk. If her dearly loved and irritating mum would be proud she curses herself, but nevertheless was keeping it.

A spiteful urge to just stop and set it aflame is held in check by her knowing that giving into her primal love of Fire is a dangerous habit to let herself indulge freely. Fire is not a toy, nor is it safe to most hings or people that come across it. Even if it is a sublime relaxing tool to vent her inner fury with on occasion.

So frugality and her need to battle her addiction saves the rotten thing to have ripped away her Par instead of saving the Hindi angel. Because of it her Harry and Circle are left to wait for her in the Pattern when it would be best if she were with them to be spun out again together soon.

Trudging up into the wood line that is barring the sea from the dry land of the continent, she has to deny her mind its wish to flee her headache and longing to rejoin her loves. Their faces were behind her eyelids as if a beautiful secret photo album. Their smiles, their eyes she can gaze into forever, the tastes of their lips, and the tickling fun of burying her face into Harjit's bearded jaw. The memory montage encouraging Gin to try in vain to fully ignite her muddied memory of Par's tender farewell. It is a sacred moment in her life, and infuriatingly it is buried under her glaring pain. It is just there but is staying out of reach for her.

In under the bowery of the forest, shielded from the blinding clear sky, her headache is muted a touch from its Fiendfyre meltdown moments ago to its now just too bright house fire at night. Unbearable but the best she is able to find as shelter for now.

Luna's normally soft presence may have lent her peace to withstand her mounting turmoil, but then again she'd not be feeling this hopeless if that were the case. She is lone in a mad bloody minded Age full to bursting with murderous sods, and that is all here is to it. Yet she has never been this alone in her whole life.

Alone and in increasing need to set things afirein a glorious explosion of lights, sounds, and sweet sweet searing heat. If that cow Elaida so helpfully popped in out of the blue, then Ginevra will have a liberating honest justification in getting exotic with developing new Fire weaves. A convenient turn she is in no delusional state enough to ever imagine the willful Wheel beng so nice to deliver to her. That is if she could stay awake for it as she dearly longs to collapse.

If there were not so many large trees near to hand to lean upon she may well have ended up face planting into the leaf strewn forest floor.

Her Ione's know-it-all voice invades her mind as if her lover were standing by her side. "Ginevra Molly Weasley, you simply cannot fall asleep on us, no matter what it takes."

The fantasy hope of her girlfriend being there with her was wonderful and lovely, but the sad truth is that she is so blinkered she may well drop off as soon as she slows down that much. Something that is going to become more and more difficult to avoid.

Thinking of Hermione gives her courage to try and keep her wits about her. Her brainy witch is an inspiring person to know, even before they became lovers. At Hogwarts and in the White Tower, the girl was fierce and focused. Both traits are strong reasons that the girl was a shinning example of a true Lion with true bravery over just unproven bravado.

Sometimes Ginny is unsure if she is more the latter over the former in her own personal struggles. Did she truly belong with the Snakes as the Sorting Hat wanted?

Stumbling over thoughts like this has her wondering about her Daphne and Harry. They were chosen for other Houses too. Yet both were valiant and unbending to adversity. They would probably make some jokes in parseltongue then hug her tight. Well that and be snogged cross-eyed by her. Better yet, as if they were still sitting by her in Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, they would let her talk out what was troubling her.

"Ginny, do you know how to be strong. I don't precisely know if its the whole of it, but it does take patience. Loads really if I were to be honest." Daphne would sagely advise her.

Harry though was whom she is needing to hear from more, as he never gives in. He fights no matter the cost. With his intense green eyed gaze locking her in place, he'd touch her cheek with his rough callused hand as delicately, whispering, "As long as you hold onto who and what is precious to you more than your own life any thrashing received is bearable. For me, you are one of those gifts I'd live through hell for with a smile on my lips."

That is what he and their Circle is to her. To be held by him and them again she has to take this thrashing. They would fight on so must she. It wasn't in Harry to quit and if she did roll over and take the easy way out, she was positive she may scream in how it would feel his love and know she didn't give it her all too.

Picking her way through the rugged untamed woodlands, she finds another intolerable irritant. One that has bedeviled her since coming to this Age, one that she is certain comes about from the devious designs of old men who hate women. Dress skirts in this infernal backward Age are unnaturally long, with a disgusting delight in snagging on every bleeding branch, bush, or plain stretch of empty air along her path. Oh how she dreams of her treasured muggle jeans back home in her clothes chest tucked under her bunk. They were a fine invention this Age could do with if women here were smarter than they were prudish. Rugged, slimming, and decent enough to know that proper clothes don't just reach out and grab on to any ruddy bit of rubbish they happen to pass.

Being tripped up for the unknowable time, she smashes her face into the rough bark clad surface of a dead fall tree leaning askew over a pool of somewhat clean water brought in by a span wide passing stream. This vagrant traveling water is so similar to one near her childhood home, she is homesick at the sight of it as it deposits a donation of cold clear water in the near at hand oxbow pond. It was so clear and fresh it must be a gift for her ill used self. Thirsty, grungy, and too bloody tired to go on much further right then as she is caught in the current of longing for home. She stands staring at it with a deep ache in her bones.

Is it a gift or another prank from the heartless seeming Wheel? She prays it's a gift as she remembers many hours spent by the one near the Burrow. If she could have any wish just then it would be for her and her loves to be back at the hidden pond, alone and happy. Images of her and Harry making love on its cool edges while her Circle were similarly entertained has her cry a little. That is what they should be living as not on the run in a medieval Age from an insane witch with a taste for underage girls.

Choosing to hold onto the hope that this is not a random encounter but a rare apology from the ever so fickle Pattern, Ginny lets the dreamy fantasy sooth her.

Sore, tender muscles cry out in yearning of clean hot water to steam away the battering she endured in the Fair Eyed Lads sinking. Her illusory day dream changes some by her aching wish to include a hot spring where her Harjit is taking her as his bride. His emerald green eyes devour her as he claims what belongs to only him and her Circle. Her witches are tenderly touching and kissing both him and her, allowing her to love them and him in this perfect moment free of fear and death that is forever hunting them. Her Par is even leaning in and telling her how gorgious she is with their man buried in her, before sliding a hand down to touch them both with a kiss for her, sending her into seventh heaven.

Letting out a moan of ecstacy, she returns from her momentary daze, painfully aware that her loves were likely all gone forever. It had been so real she is a bit embarrassed at the naughty results pooling in her hidden womanhood. It was years since she swore to no longer be bound by her raising under "Good girls don't." She is furious at her shame in longing for her man and witches. She is a free, liberated witch.

"Well maybe I need a good soak to clear up the foggy cobwebs in my empty brain so I can figure out how to remember how I got to live. Par- Par must have gave me this chance. But why and what did she want me to know?" Gin hisses at her loathsome prudishness. "In any case I must not be a fright if I am to live for them."

That last was more a reminder that she has to live if Par and Harry thought their lives were worth the cost. She doesn't believe it but she is sworn to this path.

As cloudy and worn out as she is it proves a challenge to embrace Saidar and hold it with any modicum of stability. It was frightening how very close it were to the days she was under the tutelage of Kaliandra Sedai. This time's lone difference is that she has no guide or compatriots to cheer her on. What she does have is the will to not fail her lover's whom sacrificed everything for her to survive them.

Coming to her aid is the ghostly ingrained memories of her five heart's loves gazing on her with adoration and joy. With their presence in her heart and mind she can gather her focus to not give in and pass away here in this unknown forest. For them she has no choice but to live on as long as she can in this madhouse Age.

Crafting an impromptu earthen tub by using Air, Water, and Fire digging, packing and baking the abundant clay mud in an open air kiln she is alive in Saidar's bliss. Once it is solid and sturdy enough for it she fills it up with the clean fresh water warmed by a light heating charm weave on the whole creation. Soaking away the grimy oil tainted sea water is a delicious idea to heal her emotional and physical trouncing. A far superior idea than taking a final dip in the deep as her heart is wanting of her right then.

Stripping down bare to the Light save her found treasure necklace, she slips into her bath with a sigh. Her hopeful prayers of being reunited with her lovers returns her to dreamland. The startling feel of realness is both a balm and a fiendish trick on her aching soul. Caution flees alongside reason as she yearns to be back in the loving arms of her five true loves wherever they've been stolen away to. Her mind and body are alive in the fantastic shadow play of them caressing and washing her free of her pains. Spectral kisses and sighs of mutual need lead her to abandon her childhood fears of being a dirty bad girl to touch herself as she hungers for them to do with her.

Angry lustful desire tears away her reservations to increase her furious self love as she lets her mind play out its secret wishes in her dizzied abused head. Harry is under her as he is taking her where nature did not intend and her Par is reaching into her with a frenzy she cannot resist screaming out in want of them. Visions of her other Circlemates ravishing her and each other is too much for her to holdout any longer...

"Please!" she screams out to the unhearing universe as she feels as if she is on the verge of exploding and then vanish in a puff of smoke to be carried away to a blissful eternity. What she was begging for wasn't perfectly clear, she just knew she needs it desperately like the feel of her lovers loving her. What she does know as a fact is how the decadent libertine taboos in her fantasy just make it that more desirable in her need to be her own person and not who her mum wished of her.

Fury at her need and loss of her soul mates has the fantastic vision blur and spin as she almost tastes her Ione's secret as the girl lets her kiss where good girls should never be kissed. The edge of sanity is well and truly passed as she erupts physically with a shuddering release and her head explodes on the inside as the libertine bliss takes her sailing away. She felt perfect and free as her shame, at being so disgustingly wrong in the eyes of her raising, is washed away with her inhibitions. The cleansing release is liberating with its whole body euphoria relaxing her.

Sleep sneaks in and allows her to drift aimlessly in this mind blanking euphoria. Somewhere in her dozing frustrated release, adrift in the silences of her mind she is shifted to a new vista and dreams she is unready for or wishes to witness.

In a heavy surreal reality she is back home at the Burrow on a perfectly happy sad day. The wind is lightly whispering through the open windows bringing in the evocative scents of her mum's garden alive with growing life. Sweet teasing smells of cooking and baking call her from the kitchen where her mother is humming one of Celestine Warbeck's more naughtier tunes. Out the front door Gin sees a huge pavilion being erected by the men of her family with carefully orchestrated spell work. All save her oldest brother Bill that is as she hears him upstairs talking with his best mate in from Egypt.

Watching the men at work she realizes it isn't a simple party coming, but that of a wedding. A touch of envy she did not notice before is tugging at her heart as she remembers that this is not her own the day is about to welcome in. Shifting and hazy, the images of guests lingering all about outside and passing through to the kitchen she recognizes some in a distorted fashion. She is hiding in the recessed shadows of the stairs as she is feeling overwhelmed to where she yearns to escape or puck or both. It is only in the most distracted passing thought that she is in a dress of a bridesmaid made of elegant maroon silk, its back is unzipped to the top crease of her bum. Her silky muggle knix are unseen by their daringly hip hugging shortness. As for a bra, she is a little impishly delighted to have to pass it up to wear the daring dress picked out by the bride to be.

The stringent codes of propriety her mother would be in a right snit at seeing her in this getup has her smiling in her mind and this ghostly other self. More so when she thinks of how it is flat out stoning scandalous in the eyes of her adopted Age where she has been growing to feel closer to than her birth one since finding her liberating voice and unorthodox love life.

It is a bit of an irritant that the restless and heartsick Hermione is upstairs packing furiously for some secret trip, but is crying because of Gin's brother Ron being a birk as is his normal state of being. Both her dream self and her disconnected real personality are ready to go off and hex the ginger git, but in the dream she knows that her and the distraught witch are not together. They have secretly experimented with kissing and touches, but nothing more out of violating the law or upsetting their heterosexual crushes. Or boyfriend in Ginny's case, which is leading both herselves to wonder how Hermione can not see that Harry is a superior match for her broken hearted best friend upstairs. Yet if Hermione and Harry were an item, would he still be her beau in this mind boggling dream. Would she be able to get her mum to accept her more liberal but traditionalist wizarding hopes of romance and marriage. Defying Molly Weasley in their family is just a thing that is never done if they are the woman's daughter.

She so wants to hex her brother for both Hermione's sake and his possibly ruining this emotionally charged dream day. Yet her real self is also wishing to hug the stuffing out of him as she dearly misses her family in this lost Age. To know that she will have died before even her ancestors ever take the name Weasley is a hard potion to imbibe.

All around her she is seeing a wider assortment of witches and wizards in a heightened state of alert, with more than a few wands at the ready or just simply drawn. But none are even seeming to be coordinated to work in tandem or rotating duties on the wards they occasionally stop to add strengthening to as they wander about. None are keeping a watch over possible escape routes or entry points. Worse yet they are typically magicals in that none are carrying muggle types of reinforcements like Warders and Tower Guard do for the White Tower's Aes Sedai. Meaning they have hardly a hope if it came to a barny breaking out they wont be able to kill or repel any unwanted interlopers busting in spells ablazing.

"Gin," she hears Harry speak from the foot of the stairs where he is standing one hand on the railed banister and another in his pocket. "Merlin your beautiful."

"Oh yeah mister mine, why don't you come help me zip up and tell me more." she saucily responds in the dream but is a bit afraid at the vision of this Harry. His approach is gangly and akimble like all teen boys she once knew in her birth Age.

Turning her back to him in invite of his aid and touches, she is crying inside as it is so sweet to witness his awkward eagerness over flowing with hesitant longing. However as much as it feels delicious to her dream self it was as if a stranger was touching her to her real self observing this tender moment.

"Tell me why I can't be your girlfriend again?" she hears herself demand of this stranger Harry.

"Gin.. I have to leave and fight like Dumbledore hoped I would. I can't bring you and I can't tell you out of fear for you." Harry sighs as he finishes zipping her up.

"But I love you." she weeps, "Did he tell you some stupid noble tosh that you can't be loved before he let himself get killed by Snape?"

"Ginny," this alien feeling Harry groans as if tired of this argument, "you know Dumbledore. He has his reasons for everything. I just know he is trusting me to finish what he was working on with me. More than that I can't say."

Both versions of her were less than impressed with this stupid non-answer. "What in Merlin's name has he done to you? What absolute shite has he poured into your tea to get you to do this and not-"

He looks pained as he snaps, "Gin he died trying to do this. He trusted me to do this for him and all of us."

"All of us? Did he trust Hermione too with this?" she hears her other self hiss.

His sheepish face tells the tale. Dumbledore only wanted the pure blind boy devotee to the great and good old lier's games. Wanting the boy to do whatever even the old man couldn't do all alone. Ginny wants to scream in outrage with this absolute load of gryphon shit the old man has done to the boy and the world for his too clever games.

She feels so much fury she spits out of this other Ginny's lips, "What a load of shit Harjit. Dumbledore is screwing with you as always. He doesn't or more didn't care a rats arsehole about you. He only ever loves his own cleverness no matter the cost to anyone. He left you to be beat half to death by that land whale uncle of yours while coddling that toerag Draco for every little petty crime the ponceling can figure out to try in a year."

"Harjit?" he asks in confusion.

The other Ginny is now back in control and is confused too, but is feeling liberated enough to take up the cause, "Harry, I don't know why I felt you have another name but that doesn't change the truth. Draco tried the killing curse on you. He didn't try it out of fear or what have you. It was in his heart to kill you. Who got in trouble in all that Harry? You, not the tiny baby Deathy. Who was going to kill the old man, not you but Draco. But who does he expect to do the impossible, not himself but you and to do it alone. Did he even tell you what to do?"

He is staggered and silent under this. But not the other Ginny, "I see. That is a no. He wants you to go- go... Oh help me whatever helped me earlier... I know I need the help. I can't lose him and... and Hermione..."

A bit startled herself and afraid it is all from her injuries, Gin-Gin still comes to this other her's aid, "Harry, the old bastard didn't help or teach you did he? Stop think and listen before just following what is just told to you. Be a man and not a puppet. For once in your life and our lives. We love you and by we I mean this Ginny here and more. I should know as I'm her too but lost you just as we had it all figured out. That scar in your head is not a scar its- its part of Tom Riddle like the-"

"Like the Diary?" he asks in unison with Hermione coming down the stairs. This other Ione is not hers. For one thing she's blonde and has a pair of thick glasses but is Hermione nonetheless. However the two versions of her girlfriend have the same spirit in their chocolate eyes.

"He- He knew..." the other Harry wobbles, "Ginny how do you know?"

She is feeling sick and is waking. Why she was even talking to or caring what this dream life felt she doesn't know, but says in parting, "Ask the Twins to take you to the Snake Room in Hogwarts. Take Daphne Greengrass as she Speaks..."

She jerks awake and throws up over the side of her steaming hot tub. Her world is alive and real to her but the weird disgust with herself and that dream world are sticking to her as she hurls up some more. It was as if she had found herself in a mirror world of her true one. The way it felt was real in its own way, just not a place for her to have been. It also galls her that any one with half a brain would be able to tell that Dumbledore is tricking Harry into fixing whatever mess the old fart screwed up. When at first that Harry spoke, Gin-Gin was alive with a fearful hope. Her love was back for her. A lie as he wasn't her man but a pale weak little speck of a shadow, yet very well could have been her man if they hadn't came here.

Thinking of her Harry, the very real and living man she loves with all her being she makes up her mind in a low groaned vow, "The next time I see Harry I will bond his lovely bum right off." Unlike that scared silly bent version of herself in that dream, she was not a voiceless mouse but a real and strong survivor witch with a mind and voice of her own born out of her Chosen loves' love.

Just like how that whole rotten ruddy world was real for her but not. Far too real to be a mere dream, only it were wrong in a million fractured slices of what should be. Her Harry and Ione need her and each other to much to be apart just to fit a generic norm of those whom could care less about any of them. Plus the feel of that boy was wrong as if she had been touched by a complete stranger. He was Harry true enough but wrong in too many ways to ever let herself stand his touching her. His inner being has a similarity but he is too weak and care worn to face what he must. Plus the hodgepodge wariness of the guests was as like as not to collide with itself or simply crumble under even a half prepared force of determined attackers.

She's witnessed too often first hand how selfish unprepared individuality in a crises has ruined things or as good as when the chips are down. Her own personal faults in this regard, including coming unglued on the Fair Eyed Lad turned a bad situation into a nightmarish debacle. Now she is left her emptying her stomach in an unknown forests till it hurts too much to think or breath. And adding insult to her self recriminations is how she had been very much well on her own way to becoming just as big a twit as those dream versions of her loves and her.

Light headed from exhaustion, she slowly falls back into a dozing fitful daze. Drifting in and out of her consciousness is the uncountable slices of her life, and more than a few brilliant gem like images of her Circle and their Harjit. In the lot is a startling fact, becoming a hundred percent their witch has inalterably changed her from the clueless little chit she once was and would've been. At Hogwarts she'd been a silly bent afraid of disappointing her family and friends, lived to serve at the leisure and whims of Dumbledore, and was blind about how ludicrous the lives of magicals really are.

Back home magic is a toy some rely on as a tool to do what most folks do better manually. Everything from brushing teeth, to building a home, to even wiping themselves in many cases like her own dearly unloved Aunt Muriel prefers. The moronic habit of the shrew stems from some rot about muggle toiletries give magicals dragon pox, or is it the Spanish Flue?

But for all of that integral dependance on "magic" of her kind in her birth Age, they live in a cowardly state. Digging into traditional shadowy enclaves, they cower their lives away with belligerence against needful changes instead of actively contributing to the world. Well nothing unless one considers treating the non- gifted as hardly human. This is a far cry from the White Tower which has become a sort of secondary governing body in the West, even in places like Amadicia where her kind are considered dangerous criminals from birth. A state Statecraft that is religiously upheld and maintained by women whom wield Saidar as a precise weapon or scalpel ready to hand to excise trouble in sometimes ridiculously underhanded and harsh ways.

If some woolheaded witch ever dares to try using such a revered gift for such base things as wiping, the woman's Sisters would be packing her off to penance before the concussed cow is fully clean. And yet none of the Sisters can ever truly envision ever expanding the borders of studiable legal uses for the One Power.

Laying in a sick stupor, she tries to banish the images and feeling of that disturbing dream version of her home Age. It wasn't real and that was that. Though the thought of her Hermione in a cute blonde pixie bob and naughty librarian get up with those thick glasses has her tingle a little bit again. Too spent and afraid her splitting headache will burst her head open like a melon, Gin drifts in the longing for her loves and home. Home where they were safe and free.

Sighing she starts to finish up her soaking bath so that she can get a camp set up. It also was hard to relax with her sick up spilled all over the forest floor next to her. There are a few new unpleasant discoveries she stumbles on here. Well there are a few blessings as well. One is that she had met the inestimable Therill, without whom she wouldn't have had a single clue how to prepare a suitable campsite and light guarded fire. When she had came to this Age she'd been totally lost in the arts of wood lore. Waiting for a Warder to do as is his duty to do every physical chore for her as an Aes Sedai may be the standard of all White Tower witches but it can leave a witch in for a world of hurt if the unthinkable snatches away the Warder.

Woozy as she is and getting worse, it takes her hours to get a half presentable spot to rest and get her head back on straight. This throbbing headache is a bad sign if she is to guess. Resting as she has been the last few hours or so in her tub, she should have done a fine job on the ruddy mind altering pain. Its always worked back home when a headache has her down. Then again she'd never been ran through a wringer by a storm for the Ages out on a sinking ship in the middle of who knows where before either.

Knowing that her delicate stomach is in need of sustenance she works herself back into an Aes Sedai calm. After the arduous battle to let Saidar guide her into embracing it, she summon catches a small troat of some sort for a meal. It takes a royal effort on her part to hold onto Saidar for longer than a few seconds at a time.

However as she cooks the fish, her middles growl with a long denied desire. When she examines its doneness her mouth is literally watering in anticipation. Both signs that she hopes are on the plus side as to how well she is if her apatite wasn't lost at sea along with everything else. An apatite that grows to ravenous as she takes her first burning hot bite.

"Hey girl got any more of that?" a voice from the shadowy woods around her camp has her come half out of her skin.

Whipping around to see her unexpected guest, she is thrown in a dizzy whirl that drops her to her knees and side across the loamy underbrush somehow bumping her head on the edge of her tub in the offing. It hurts as if her head were already barely accepting some unremembered past abuse. Blurry lights popping in her sight has her unable to see much more than a spinning swirl of twisting colours. When it stops with her taking several head shaking lengthy blinks has her a bit alarmed as all that she sees is tinged in yellows. Its as if the world has lost all colour to become yellows and blacks alone, like some faded aged photo long forgotten on a high shelf. Hufflepuffs may love the spectrum shifting to this but not her or her stomach as she promptly hurls her piscatorial breakfast all over her front and the camp.

Tears pour from her sore eyes as she lays there in a stupor of self derision as she wonders if she were worth Par's sacrifice. Worries that the signs are pointing to something being broke inside her has her cursing her sorry hide and the Wheel for deceiving Par into a sacrificial act that isn't proving more and more a tragic waste.

Warbley misshapen bodies rush to her sides as she half lays stupefied on the ground drenched in her own filth. The small hot fire should be warming her but she is a bit chilly she notices distractedly. Blinking owlishly she manages to slow the tilting spin of her vision some again to a bearable degree. Scarily she is positive in a sneaky suspicion mocking her that she has little or no chance of maintaining a stable hold of Saidar if it comes down to it. In fact she is afraid she is hardly able to stay with it enough to not pass out or puke again.

"Gin-Gin, are you alright girl?" Ange's musical but stern voice penetrates her fugue.

"I- I don't think sooOOHH..." she confesses with a dry heave and tears leaking out of her eyes in a fractional ray of hope lifting some of the gespair she's been holding in. Was the girl really here or is this another delusion? "Som- Something..." she heaves up some more, "My head- hurts dreadfu-" She manages to throw up a bit more this time.

Alicia's less stern voice intrudes to ask, "Did that knock on this- Is this a clay bathtub?- Did the fall into this do it? Or did you knock your bean about another time? Gin, focus baby girl, please. Stay with us. You can do it. Ange, we could be seeing a concussion here. What do you think? She's looking as bad as I've seen it."

"I'm thinking the same Ali." Angelina replies with fear in that normally unflappable voice Gin knows can send her brothers a running.

"You're better at dealing with them. I'll go get Fred. He's like as not to be jumpy as it is, we've been gone for nearly an hour. He may try come dragging himself after us." Alicia decides as Ginny struggles to sit up better.

Lifting up in a jerk at the blossoming joy exploding in her heart that her family may all be here and alive, Ginny quickly regrets that to fall back in a renewed unfocused stupor.

"Good idea. Gin doesn't look right. Hey see that floating plank or whatever. Use it to get Mr. Manly Man back here before he gets the idea he's as unbreakable as Potter or some such rot. Bloody flaming idiots the lot." Ange directs but is only part understood by Gin whose world was tilting in odd spins and stomach churning jerks.

A restraining hand on her chest has Ginny look up into her future sister in-law's worried eyes to ask, "Fred? What about - about the- rest"

"We don't know. We've been searching, but we've only managed to find you so far. As for your brother, he got caught in the explosions of that ice rubbish and the grog going up. Sent him arse end up into the galley stove mid air. Me and Ali fished him out of the drink before he joined the ship in the here after." Ange explains with a wide mouthed yawn, "Now hold still. I'm going to use some Quidditch first aid on you. Its not much, but then I'm not that much of a Healer either."

With how difficult it is becoming to focus to any degree, Gin-Gin is left merely riding a series of small icy surges in her head instead of learning the weaves. The ordeal took time, but when finished she is less likely to lose any more of her breakfast and true colours have returned to replace the yellows of earlier. Her hunger though is also resurgent in its desire to devour whole seas of fish, or a full cow at minimum. If allowed she could probably do it in one sitting without a bit of hesitation. This is a trade she is more than willing to endure in order to make her lost Parvati's sacrifice worth the cost.

Gin has to go on living and to do great things for her stolen girlfriend's wish she live on.

Once more weak as a kitten, she falls into a weepy mess of mourning. This time though she is held in the gentle care of Ange's shaking arms. Having some of her family back is wonderful but is bitter as the losses hurt all the sharper to think long on.

"I know girl. I know." her friend croons with a choking sob.

Clinging hold of one another, they both cry into each others shoulders. No one is an island or an unfeeling statue. Not even those women trained in the marble halls of the indomitable White Tower. Some losses are too great to shrug off as if they were nothing at all.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++WOT/HP+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Soft warm wet rain sprinkles the sodden forest road that once had been paved and lined with impressive sized statues with splashing bursts of water, further drenching the region. A sky full to bursting with grey mournful clouds blanket the world from seeing the sun, leaving everything in shades of dour grey. Rains have bedeviled and haunted Ginny and her bone dead tired sister in-laws as they troop inland with a half feverish Fred bound tight to their floating shutter turned gurney. Having no clue what so ever where they were, their lone guide to civilization is to follow the forest's lost roadways. This current one was grimly empty of travelers, however there are signs there are those using it aside from them recently.

Campsites, now cold and deserted appear at irregular but easily reached intervals. Then there is the multitude of wagon tracks cutting the semi muddy road where the pavement is no longer dominant. If people have passed this way maybe there is a village along the desolate highway. Towns meant Inns with warm beds, and the chance of a Wise Woman or Reader or whatever the locals call their Healers in these parts.

Trying to hold onto her hopes of meeting up with the missing members of their hodgepodge family, Gig-Gin is growing a bit cross with life in general. Witches in this Light Cursed Age are this side of noble snooty do nothings that can, and often do, send kings to hop to and fetch water for them if so wished. Flip side to that knut is they expect and demand girls like her to not learn a lick how to survive in the rough. Warders run and play the parts of loyal footmen, chef, hand maid, courier, and stable hand for most Aes Sedai alongside being bodyguard, plus some add boytoy or whipping boy to that list. The cost of this attitude is that if on an off chance should a witch be left afoot and adrift out in the arse end of nowhere she is as useless as tits on a boar hog. Which is actually how her and her sister in-laws are left being just now.

"This is crackers." grumbles Ange as they slog along this ribbon of a dead civilization leading off to who knew where.

Nodding while pulling on the rope they've attached to Fred's shutter, Alicia yawns from the exhaustion they all have.

They are not completely without some aid as they have no trouble making fires for camp even with all the sodden wet wood, Ginny is handily a friendly Firebug after all that can melt solid granite to molten slag in moments. They can get clean water even in this swampy mess by a weave of Water they all can whip off easily. However they are pants at hunting and gathering. Then there is the fact they're having to split their nights up to keep watches as they are only three women and a busted wreck of a young man. The last doesn't help matters as poor Fred mutters nonsense about something eating his bones, marrow first nonetheless. They are certain that to any bands of brigands, they look a bunch of easy tasty meat.

Afraid of being caught flat footed or if Fred's dreams are Taint born, they have been sleeping less and less of late. When the Warders and boys were about and healthy, none of the witches had to do more than make tea. Even cooking is a duty the boys did unless Luna was free as her missing girlfriend adores the chore.

What a humiliating death for a Weasley witch to face, death because she is a useless pampered priss, and all three witches were Weasley witches even if yet to be legally. A blow to the hard working and industrious Weasley Line, and a thing Gin's mum would be ashamed of ever hearing take place with Ginny. Even if she is a freakish cauldron stirring bad witch, she knew her heritage demands her to not be a pretty pampered tit even more.

Staggering to a stop next to a statue of a partial statue of a bare pair of bare chested women once hoisting something aloft, Ginny curses her residual headaches. Ange's concussion prevention charms were great, and have kept away much of the loopy insensible symptoms, like off color hues to everything. She still has hazy dreams of other hers in different lives, most she can't remember a thing of, others she just awakes bent out of all sorts of shape by. A few she even has awoken being doused in water weaves from her sister in-laws. Worse were the ones she feels she has been either a right rotten little slag or that she is left mourning her loves alone beside their graves while slick gits like Dumbledore profess it was for the best. However when her headaches are added to the mix she has to bite her lips and keep well away from Saidar. The problem stems from her pains only being muted, not cured as that takes true Healing or time to rest and recoup fully. Trudging through sloppy mud river beds pretending to be roads with next to no sleep is not in the slightest resting.

"Bugger it all." she waspishly spits out holding her head and weaving as a halo swims through her vision, distorting her world to where she wants to burn things.

"You can make it Gin." Ange tries to encourage her, "We've got a few hours more of daylight yet to get a few more miles out of this stretch of paving."

"Through this muggy muddy mess and into honest folks lands you mean. I know this, but I'm buggered and ready to see if one of these god awful statues are edible. Why were we so bloody stupid to not stock up on food while we packed in the Tower? Oh right," she snaps her fingers and lights a tiny flame above her thumbnail, she thinks its pretty and leaves it be as she continues, "we were bringing our boys along to hop to for us skanky prisses. They hunt, cook, clean, and guard us just for the little pats we give them on their pretty heads. Why be more than stupid air headed pretties out on a lark when our boys will pamper our princessly bums? Aes Sedai never go without as long as the have their leashed attack dogs with benifits, right?" she grumps while letting her tiny pet flame hold her attention in its comforting flickering. She loathes feeling as big a giant tit for sitting like those rich snooty slags shopping at Madam Beaufrie's Perfumery in Diagon Ally.

Those pretty prissy chits have house elves. She is an Aes Sedai so she has a superior pet in a Warder. Harry is forever ready to hop about for her and she just...

Till her was...

"Nooooo!" she screams at herself and the universe as smoke is trailing up out of the bare breasted stone women behind her.

Her Harry is alive. That is all there is to it. Same goes for her Circle. She is not a pathetic sadistic spinster witch like her dearly unloved Aunt Muriel. Her loves live and she will find them. Find them and love, cherish, and never take them for granted ever again. Then after she has shown her loves the love they deserve, she is going to learn Healing, learn to get her temper under control, learn to be more helpful, and most assuredly to get her lovely Harjit to train her as if she were a Warder instead of a puffed up chit in pretty silks. He will also never ever again be treated by her as her bit to itch her needs for a man once in a while. He is her loving hardworking husband not her pet horse to take for a ride just for something to do. Same goes for her Circle as she fears the White Tower twisted her love of them to that of just tastes of the taboo and not her life partners. She is not going to be her mum. Her dad may adore being a doormat but her witches and Harry are more precious to her than that.

"Gin?" Ange yawns with worry as a Water weave cools the slightly charred offensive statue.

"I'm fine." she hisses and tries to leave. Standing still wasn't getting them anywhere. "Just bloody well fine. Just wondering when our- Never you mind. I'm just being the mad little skeeming skanky slag dyke bitch abomination everyone thinks I am for some bloody reason. S' just peachy thats me."

As if the Pattern were a prankster like her brother Fred, she is tripped up by her rain soaked skirts drooping down low to be snagged by her own treacherous feet. The subsequent fall was quick and utterly shocking for her as she isn't one hundred percent positive how she got herself sprawling out over the muddy half paved road.

"A horse! My kingdom for a horse!" snorts Angelina while helping her stand, "Or more four for us. This padding it down the merry old chipped brick road is simply just not doing it for me. I'm a witch. We ride brooms and take the floo to our chosen destinations, not hoof it blindly to who bloody well knows where. Wherever we are, I think I understand why everyone left. We're in the drowning middle of nowhere."

Fred wheezes to the surprise of everyone, "Illian... still- still to- Trolloc Wars wiped this kingdom off- butch... Butchered them all..."

Staring at her brother in stunned disbelief, Ginny and the rest of the witches whom were eventually getting around to studying this world and its history. As every Aes Sedai must know the ins and outs of this medieval Age. They thought the boys were solely learning creative and unholy ways to kill, maim, or other wise ruin any Tom Noddy to try and touch their witch bondholders. Well that and woodlore with servant craft to better be able to pamper their owners.

"How did you know that?" Alicia softly questions the feverish wizard.

"Knowledge of where- where, when, and- and... Safe- must... duty..." Ginny's brother trails off in a renewed fever born muttering ramble. "Blood tastes- tastes of oil in my... Can't you smell it? Fire from the ice... freezes like the sunnnnUHhhhhh."

Sharing a worried glance, the witches start off once more. Pushing themselves takes more effort than learning to embrace Saidar. Bone deep exhaustion has to be bested in order to get Fred to a Healer and soon. Holding back on extending their strides and days walking was going to cost them the wizard. Ginny again is caught up in an endless loop of self recrimination. And she wasn't alone either.

Ange spits out with acidic self loathing, "Smart one girl. Learn to play with the Mask and the Mirror to be a better illusionist and other useless rot. You knew damn well the boys were going off to play with sharp pointy things, and what did you do? Why you bloody well take a pass on Healing. Pass on your ruddy book work too. Boring you told your smarmy self, saying Angie Pangie why worry Pads and Ione got that covered, now look at us! Lost in a bloody arse end of nowhere, in a long dead kingdom like a silly Loobie Lou. Well ain't we a right fine sight now. Proud of yourself now girl? Tell us brilliant girly, are you happy now?"

The similar thoughts to Gin's own has her curse her being so singularly focused on Fire and skiving off she's emulated another Weasley and not in the best of lights. She's been Ron in a dress is what she's been doing. She has to be better. Her loves, if she ever finds them again, are in need of a witch with an ounce of brains. She also has to stop using Harjit as her crutch. He'll be the Circle's Warder, but they absolutely can't just treat him as a pretty house elf with benefits. He deserves better than that, as does the love she worked so hard to win. The Aes Sedai may think of Warders as the loyal statuary but Harry is not a ruddy rock.

"They've done so much for us and we took it all for granted." Alicia hisses, "Its barmy how wrong we went all Aes Sedai on them. Just like those old crones we kept our pretties close expecting them to always be where we put them last, then sit like high and holy prisses."

Ginny was about to speak when out of the sopping wet forest six enormous Great Dane like mutts bound in barking madly. The suddenness takes her and her sister in-laws by total surprise. Yet it did not block her razor sharp Quidditch worthy eyesight that kicks in for escape points or other details. Fears of being a human chew toy has her notice up ahead, hidden by a partially collapsed wall is a haphazard ring of rainbow colored wagons. She also whips out twin thirteen foot whips of Fire that she keeps aloft like an oriental ribbon dancer, with the air crackling from the heat as she snaps them with thunderous reports.

All her dancing and snapping are to simply keep the big brutes honest. She isn't alone in coming alive with Saidar to fight off this threat, Ange has a swirling storm of Air and Water shoving the beasts back while Alicia is guarding Fred with a thick egg shaped wall of Air. Just as they were taken aback by the huge dogs, so to are the mutts by their shows of skill and power.

Tucking tail and heading for the high country, their canine assailants act as if Ginny truly were going to give them a smack with Fire. Something she'd never willingly do as hurting animals bothers her for a large list of reasons, though she accepts that killing some for food is a needed thing, so too is protecting the innocent or her loved ones. Yet she remembers vividly how Tom found it a great game to force her to torture and then maim or kill all sorts of creatures for his amusement. She hated the cruelty but was helpless to put a stop to it. Now she refuses to be so callus as to allow Tom's brand of a fun game take place around her.

Next out of the woods comes an eye watering tornado of people wearing an unsettling profusion of mismatched god awful color clashing clothes that did nothing for her headache or queasy stomach. Arms up in surrender and pleading for forgiveness they rush her, causing her to stumble about in order to not hit them with the flames. Overwhelmed by the colors, sounds of people, and her over taxed stamina, she falls back onto the ground with a woozy wobble under the assault on her senses. On the ground and dizzier than she's been since the days she were a sprog on the prowl, she begins to have double vision of sorts. People rushing towards her at the same time she is being awakened in a strange dark room in only her knickers and bra. The latter has her focus more because of who is in it.

In a hazy half image, like a daydream stuck in one's eyes, she sees and hears...

..."I'm sorry Ginny, but there is nothing I can do for you now other than this. Your mum and Dumbledore have forced my hand. I didn't want this for you, I promise I won't hurt you." a grimeyed and yet healthier Harry than he was back in the 3rd Age is staring down on her.

Behind him are her friends Luna and Hermione alongside the Patils, Greengrasses, a witch her brother Charlie once dated, and even McGonagal. All but Luna and Ione were wearing strange almost sinisterly pretty chokers, as they sat in a room that has to be in her birth Age.

He begins to intone a magical command and the Ginny that she is riding in begins to cry.

Not having it with whatever rot is going on here Gin-Gin embraces Saidar and Shields Harry with a hissed, "Stop!" as he gasps from his power being cut off mid cant, "Oh no you don't. If that rat bastard Dumbledore has you doing this then I will not have it, no matter if I love you and the rest. That rotten old goat is a schemer and has probably trapped this whatever it is to keep you from being what you are meant to become. Tell you what, find Fred and George, get their sorry hides to take you to the wonky room with snakes at Hogwarts. Take Daphne there as she is a Speaker too and you must have her with you. It's the real bloody Chamber of Secrets and you absolutely must relearn what magic truly is. Damn it all I'm slipping away again, take care of this Ginny as she loves you beyond words just didn't think it was in the cards. Bugger me sideways and especially bugger that old sodding geez."

She lets Harry loose then cries out as if to her real loves through these mad images of them, "Par, Ione, Luna, Daph, And you too Harjit, I mean Harry I love you even in..."

...She finds herself under the concerned study of an ancient old woman with a long silk head bandana of banana yellow and purple fringed trim over long curly salt and pepper hair tide in a pony tail with a green ribbon with red and white tassels. Also with this stranger is an exotic pretty girl with flashing laughing eyes that can turn a witch's head just to devour the joy in those sloe blacks. This girl's hair is also curly and held back, but is a lustrous silky black begging for a woman's hands to reach up and touch, bury into as if finding the locks of an angel. Same for the slightly tanned skin and full smiling toothy mouth which beckons for a witch to kiss hungrily. If Gin wasn't already claimed by five amazing lovers, she'd be quite smitten by this exotic laughing girl above her.

Fred is being carried into a wagon by several middle aged men under the direction of an elderly rogue with a purple silk shirt and a sea foam scarf and floppy burgundy hat. Yet it is the girl that gets her to keep her wits about her. There is something about this stranger that Gin should know.

As for the girl, she was examining Ginny rather closely, with a peculiar tiny sigh.

In the background Ange is telling the old woman, "She took a bad knock to her head recently, but I can't truly Heal it. I've no idea what she is spouting, but I know its not normal for her. She's not right in the head since the shipwreck, but we're lost so getting help..." were the last words she hears after the old woman forces her to drink the foulest concoction she's ever had in her life.

She does see the pretty thing say something to the elder then come and pet her hair with a soft winning smile that glows rather fetchingly.

Standing in the edges of the ruddy orange campfire light, Ginny is held by her love as they try settling their minds and hearts to survive and thrive in this new dangerous world. The haphazard ring of brightly eye wrenching coloured wagons is alive with hearty laughter and free living frivolity. Yet too them it is only a sharp stabbing pain of a reminder of what has been a mixed bag of blessings and curses of this trip into the unbelievable. They have been running through a wild ride of things that shook them and their understandings of how the world works and who they can love or trust. They are not giving up yet, but it does hurt tremendously that they've let fools rip apart what they just began to build.

"We will find Harry." she hears her girlfriend Ione whisper into her ear with a kiss of reassurance for them both.

"I know Babe. I just wish I knew what we were thinking when we brought Ron along. Again he's ruined what we and others who love Harry have been trying to do when we need our wizard more than ever before. What were we smoking?' she hisses bitterly once more since the disaster on the road to Whitebridge. "So what if Harry is contracted to a Slytherin or that we're all lovers in our Circle. She's better than we once thought. If- Why did he have to start that fight when Lan told us to keep our traps shut? Light he was such an unmitigated arse.. If he had kept his trap shut when you kissed her for saving me we all would still be together now. Just imagine if it had been Harry you kissed instead, if we can ever find him like Moraine swears we can."

An eruption of laughter at what Neville or Perrin may have said or done was nearly drowning out what Hermione says after readjusting those heavy glasses Ginny thinks are sexy as hell. "He'd likely dragged me off and tossed me to the Trollocs is what. Truth is he is a bit possessive. That is why he seems to stick to us even if he isn't exactly a friend."

"Does that give him the right to scream all that about Harry and us? Merlin Ione, are we doing the right thing? Following Moraine Sedai gives us witches a teacher, but I think she's only interested in Rand. I know Egwene thinks Perrin and Matt are important to the witch, but bloody hell they're not wizards like he is. He has to be. When I look at him I see Harry. They're nothing even remotely alike physically but," she pauses to breath deeply of her witch's invigorating scent, "But I keep nearly calling him Harry."

"I know. At least if we go to the Tower like planned, we'll earn our right to go hunt them down sooner than later without Moraine chasing or sending others after us. We'll find them all. Trollocs wont stop Harry in hunting for a male teacher. Nor will the brutes best our Pans and Circle. Ron... well I don't want him ate by the rotters, but he can go jump in that river and drown for all I care." Hermione presses their foreheads together for comfort, "What he called us in the Circle was wrong, flat wrong. I'm so glad you finished waking me up to him and his rubbish. Light I still smile at how you taught me which Weasley is my only Weasley."

Ginny blushes at the memory and how it felt when it inspired their wizard to join them when he caught them at it. "Totally worth it."

"Totally." Ione giggles then fiercely sobers, "I'm sorry it took me so long to see things this clearly, the git can stay wherever he skived off to for all I care." Ione grumps then kisses her possessively, the effect reminds Ginny why she thinks the witch is a perfect lover for her. The tender feel of... something was off she notices in herself.

"You know its rude to peek." she hears herself hiss at herself. Then adds, "Ione luv, she's back with us."

Pulling back with a jerk to ask with an urgency, the strange almost Hermione nearly loses those thick glasses that seem too weird to imagine on her real Hermione. "Did you know Harry would run off to find a teacher before we got to Emond's Field? That- That everything?"

"Uhhh..." Gin-Gin is alarmed enough to ask, "You're not just my postulant delusions?"

"You're... Crickets a'jumpin! Gin we were right. Take that Ron! You git of gits, we are talking to a mirror Ginny. Tell us- Do we find Harry, Pans, Daph and the others?" Ione begs with a sorrowful look that is almost as cute as her Hermione's.

"Pans? You can't be serious! Not Pansy the Pugcess of Slytherin? Why- I only told you about Daph. Light and love I think my head is going to kill me. And how in all that's holy did you end up with Moraine Sedai, she was going to the Two Rivers the last and only time I saw her. Far as that goes why go that way when Ghealdan was so much closer." she feels justified in chewing out these not quite her and her loved ones. "Blimey my head. I'm talking to a blonde blind Hermione Granger and- and what was Dumbledore after? Why was he sending Harry out into the bleeding unknown alone?"

"You don't know about the Horcrux? But you knew of the scar and Diary?" Gin gripes at herself then asks, "Granger? Who's Granger?"

"Horcrux?" she asks with eager need to know what is Harry's scar in the understandings of her birth Age. "We only figured most of it out on our own once we got here, or our mirror here. The Yule Ball has been one long happy nightmare. At least we escaped the Tower before the boys were captured by the Reds to use as tools to discredit that Rand tosser. My Harjit is not a tool, wherever he is. Bloody Elaida rapes Luna regularly, raises a coup to steal the Amyrlin Seat, and the Reds try kidnaping our boys. I swear I'll get my Shawl and be a full Sister, but I am so tired. Speaking of tired, why bring that energy stealing git Ron?" she spits venomously.

"Yule Ball? When did you come here or there or wherever?" Gin gasps at herself.

"That night more or less. Almost two years now I think. I could be off by a year longer but not shorter as the Tower makes time a bit hard to track for postulants." she mentally shrugs. "What I- Light..."

Out of the darkness came Egwene al'Vere looking as gorgeous as ever, but not nearly so stiff or guarded. The hint of permanent anger has yet to set in. "Light, what happened to you? What did the Seanchan do to take away such gentleness?"

"Ginevra?" Egwene asks in concern, "Are you alright enough to try the dance tonight. You look a bit off. Its almost as if your not the girl I know and love? Please don't duck out on us again tonight. Perrin and Neville are out there and I want the pair to stop pestering us about being libertines, as Nev calls it."

"She knows about you and us. We have no secrets from her." Ione helps with a half raised hand so very similarly to her own Hermione's reactions to tough questions.

"You mean?" Egwene runs over to grab her by the shoulders, "Is Rand, Matt, and Nyneave safe? Where are they?"

"I don't know any Matts, but Nyneave is as safe as you as the last I knew you two and Elayne snuck out of the Tower to- Wait Rand? The only bloody buggering Rand I know is that toerag tearing up the world single handedly as the Dragon Reborn, though we hope he's onl- Oh Bugger! Buggering humdingers! He's not another Logain is he? Light and love, Harry stay safe. Bloody minded Pattern." she groans as her head is about to pop.

Egwene was pale and wobbly, "We can't let Moraine know. No wonder... Why worry about Harry? What is wrong with him?"

"The Light forsaken Reds use wizards to be False Dragons. They're chasing Harjit- Harry to you lot- to do the same to discredit the Dragon. Don't trust Elaida or most others save Naleva Sedai. I know I may be prejudiced as an Accepted more or less going Blue, but the fact remains that the Red are your enemies." she sighs in weariness.

Surprisingly Egwene snogs her like a lover instead of a mere friend, "Thank you for sending my loves here..."

A clapping beat keeping a steady seductive tempo alongside some musical instruments star an exotic mesmerizing melody call to any listeners.

"Its time for our dance, just Ginevra tell me of Rand and- and the rest." Egwene begs of her with a look that breaks her heart to see.

"He is said to have came out of the night time mist and conquered the Stone of Tear with an army of Aiel. He- He's not your beau if that is what your asking as I know Elayne has him in her sights and will not back down." she apologizes as she remembers the two witches were after the same man but never said his name out loud.

"That's good... Wait a moment, Who's this Elayne? Padma is who we all thought a lock on winning him if Fleur plays fair." Egwene tries to reason out. "We- You're not exactly my Gin are you? The woman who shown me boys are not the sole people for a girl to find love with."

"Uhhh... I- You and I only ever cleaned pots together in the Tower. I think you're cute as all can be, but you're straight I thought and the girl for Gawyne or Galad. Though I wondered if you were not as big a Potter's Witch as me and Hermione, as I was seeing signs of you being smitten by my boyfriend. You all seem to not have been to the White Tower yet so maybe things for you all will turnout different. Elayne is your best friend and is the Daughter Heir of Andor. Pads is Nevilles Girl. And how did Fleur end up coming with you lot?" she is floored to learn that the cool headed Egwene was her lover.

"She is my distant cousin Gin, we learned that the night of the Yule Ball when she took me as her date. Scandal of Hogwarts according to the Witch Weekly "French Libertine Lesbian Incest as Fleur Delacour Openly Dates Harry Potter's Ravenclaw Seducer Hermione Ravensbourn!" It was the night we three first started to experiment with witchly love when Ron was so mean to you for being Harry's date and he didn't have one. Which had Harry get in trouble for hexing him and Dumbledore put our wizard in detemtion for attacking a pureblood for the school to save face. As my best friend outside of Harry, how do you not know that?" the blonde Ione lectures in demands with a frown of confusion.

"Harry took Parvati while he had to get Ron a date with Padma. Ron treated her like rubbish for you going with Krum. There was a fight but it was from us putting Draco in his place. We had to run from Snape. We didn't decide to try kissing and more till the White Tower. You're not Fleur's relations, I don't think as you're considered a muggleborn." she explains in countering confusion.

"Mirrors must be more varied than we thought." Hermione thinks out loud.

"Later, we can't be thinking on heavier thoughts as we dance. You know how the dance will require us to be able to remember the steps unlike last time. Ginny, bless her, will likely enjoy our dancing best if we don't fall all over ourselves instead of being as beautiful as the Traveling People are, over how we near all near tumbled into the fire during our practices." Egwene urges as the clapping picks up volume. "Besides I will have an even better reason to be my most evocative and best when I know two Gins will be watching me step about. Our visitor should get a proper thank you for bringing us together."

Gin though has to ask before this chance slips away, "What is a Horcrux exactly and what are the ones to look for?"

Hermione starts to speak but the other Ginny sighs in sorrow, "She's going I can feel how it was the last time."

"Soul Anchors are..."Hermione hurries to begin teaching...

...She sits up and almost screams as she leaves without an answer. Gin is alarmed and bone tired as she feels too heavy and held down. This is not right and she is not going to let it happen to her again. Scrambling to sit up, she finds further proof of her danger as a warm firm arm tries to hug her, pulling her back in. The owner of that offensive limb almost gets cooked alive as Gin's panic has her ready to kill anyone trying to rape her again. Strange places she doesn't remember going to sleep in and warm bodied bed mates only mean one thing to her, she's been sold again. He's somehow...

The body moves away carefully. Letting her get more of her bearings. It is dark, muggy and hot as well as cramped. Reality and her hard won rational has her stop and reassess her situation. The other body next to her isn't like the ones that brutally ripped away her innocence. The person is not grabbing hold of her with cruel laughter, nor big and heavy, but is sitting up and holding up apologetic hands. She wants to speak but isn't positive she can be civil if she does.

"Hi!" the girl chirps shyly, "I didn't mean to wake you. I just needed a drink of water if that woke you. You need your rest. I was specifically warned to keep you laying still. You haven't healed yet." the young woman, judging by the thin band of light outlining a very feminine shape alongside a musical voice to match, hurries to reassure her, "Please lay back down or my Grana will get rather cross with me and end up dosing you up again."

"Where am I?" she questions a bit sharply of the stranger.

"My family's wagon. Well mine and my baby sister and brothers after the the White Cloaks burned our parents alive for suspicion of being witches." bitter sorrow clung thickly to the girl's alluring voice. "As I don't have a mate yet and other can watch over my siblings you were moved in with me. Not that I mind though, you're quite welcome here with me. And- and your safe here with me. I won't hurt you or let others do so either."

Finding it hard to breath, Ginny begs, "Let me up, I need air, please. I can't breath here. I need to not be trapped."

Letting her up, the stranger asks, "Sorry but I have to ask, what was that. It wasn't Common or the Old Tongue. It was different, almost angular."

Sighing, she answers, "Its what they speak where I'm from. Who are you by the way, and where am I again?"

"Sorry..." the woman, maybe more a teen her own age pauses with a verbal blush, "my name is Moreni Tantage'rei, I'm a Tinker as you might now the Tua'than as. I won't be offended if you don't like us now, but you did come into our camp."

"I don't hate your people. Where I'm from you'd be called Gypsies." she tries to assure this seemingly kind stranger.

There is a pregnant pause before the woman asks a bit fearfully, "Are you an Aes Seai?"

Remembering her bit of a dance, she hiccups in an apologetic tone, "Not yet. I'm Accepted and we're hopelessly lost in finding our way back to civilization after our ship up and sank under us. These woods seem to go on forever."

"That's what the other two said too. I'd be too frightened to sail on a ship, so that has to be frightening." Moreni tries to be comforting then leans forward a little bit, "What's your name, if I can know that is? Aes Sedai ways are so scary and mysterious." Her hostess bites a knuckle to whisper near inaudibly, "Beautiful though... so beautiful..." Then excitedly tittering, "We of the People only rarely have dealings with Aes Sedai or Warders, and I've never met one near my age so... I'm at a loss how to act as you seem so normal compared to the other two I've met."

Judging the girl as a nicer sort, Gin-Gin summons light orbs to illuminate the wagons interior and startles the girl, whom turns out to be the devastating angelic girl from before. Only now in a short shift of green silk and red ribbon work trimming the hem that gave Ginny a wondrous view of athletic tan legs. When the girl moves it makes her traitorously curious if this is all her hostess is wearing. Moreni at this close is clearly no more than fourteen or fifteen at most. For herself she is in a new clean shift of goldenrod and blue lace, while a large heavy head wrap bound like a turban is binding her head tight. Her precious necklace from the beach is also still adorning her shoulders and neck to her relief. Evocative smells emanate from the cloth makes her dizzier than her headaches alone have managed. Some though is also coming from this beautiful girl gazing on her with near black brown eyes and tan brown skin glistening in the hot muggy night air.

Trying to not let her hormones lead her into something she should steer clear of, Gin-Gin answers with a lust roughened voice. "Ginevra Weasley, but I prefer Ginny, Gin, or Gin-Gin from my friends." She has a little treasonous thought of saying how awesome if Moreni was moaning her name in any form at all.

"Why not Ginevra, its absolutely beautiful in an exotic way?" the girl's dark eyes were compelling to Gin, especially when coupled with that husky musical voice that has her aching for her lovers as she is nigh on attracted to the girl.

Scooting closer to her and making her brain come close to putting up an out for holiday shop sign, Moreni inquires with a hesitant "Are you Aiel, or partly so as you're like a child of fire with your long beautifully free hair the colour of warm cheery fire. Looking at you as you were sleeping, your skin was so different and- And your so pretty- Ohhh! Listen to me just going and keeping you up and not resting. Sorry I shouldn't be speaking this way. You're just so different than anyone I've ever met in my life."

"What's wrong with my skin?" she worries, her freckles are the bane of her existence, some like Draco call her piebald because of the ruddy spotty things.

"Nothing! What I saw was that you're blanketed in tiny reddish stars. Watching you dance with fire coming out of you was breath taking. I was mesmerized and so envious. Light you're beautiful, unlike myself." the alluring girl admits to Ginny's disbelief, "I wish I could see you dance like my people do. I bet you would be incredible, with every man in camp enraptured and searing their devotion to you." then the girl grew embarrassed while admitting, "I know I would be if I were a boy. Sorry, there I go again."

Chuckling at the ludicrous notion, she confesses, "I've got a beau if he survived the shipwreck. So I've no use with a man, besides most of the lot not him are not in the least bit interesting to me. My tastes run more other directions. Without me in the way you can have your pick, unless its my man then its complicated. That is as far as I wish to keep on that conversation."

Scandalized, Moreni gasps, "You don't fancy boys? You're- Ummm... Is it this Harry you keep talking about? Or the one called Harjit?"

"He's one and the same, and yes he's special. Men don't come much better, but if I didn't have him I'd not think much more on the gender that way." she again tries to leave it there.

"But what of romance? You don't want to be loved by any one else if he's gone?" Moreni was scooting very close and seemed very interested in forcing Ginny to say more. However for her the nearness of this dusky angel is making her wonder what the girl's lips taste like.

Swallowing deep to keep her composure, she hedges and coaches the whole of her sexual identity in a way that sounds less sordid, "I do have romance but just not with men outside of my man. In the White Tower other options exist for a channeling woman to find love and companionship."

Moreni was pulled up short, or so Gin thought so till the teenaged Tinker blossoms in the heat of a blush that is fetching. "So you- ummm... Did you find that?"

"In a way. Listen I am having a hard time thinking of it. Those all I belong to may have been lost in the Sea of Storms and it still hurts." she barely keeps from biting the girl's head off.

Moreni looks sorry but then pulls her in for a hug, whispering, "Those we love are never truly gone as the pattern is a Wheel and all comes back around to those who wait. Maybe you will find that they've sent you someone in their stead."

Stiff at first, even as her rampant hormones are pleading on hands and knees to make this girl hers, she returns the gesture with a friends only sort of embrace for both their sakes, "Thanks, I don't mean to be a grouchy bear. I don't like to talk about it as not many accept it or that I'm not a monster."

"I understand. Just one question, what is it like?" Moreni pleads to know.

"Well its like any other love. Kissing a boy is a little more rough and demanding, and that makes it sexy for me only if its Harjit as he only will take it as far as I can take things. Kissing my girlfriends is more soft and delicate though they can also be a bit demanding on occasion if we're both extra frisky. Other than that its about how our hearts and souls are fed by each other. Harry and us are in tune with each other, and are wells of support and need for us. Love isn't easy for anyone, it takes work from all I've discovered the hard way, gay or straight, you have to be committed to it and work for it." she instructs her host in the truth of love and life.

"You make it sound normal. If I-" Moreni tries to add to their discussion however the wagon door swings open suddenly to allow in a pair of younger teens. One is a much younger version of Moreni, though this new girl has straighter hair that is held up in three plaits that are in turn braided together in a loose high ponytail. The other is a boy with an impish cocky fellow with twinkling dark eyes that are dismissive of the miniature Moreni.

The invaders were locked in a spirited argument, some rubbish about the wonky weather and waffling on about if this was when the People would rediscover the Song. Not certain what that was but very concerned about the noise from the duo as it were aiding and abetting her tenacious foul headache she was buckling under the strain. Her pounding head was causing her eardrums to pulse with painful jolts.

However the boy stops dead to stare at her with something nearing worshipful awe before he is bodily shoved out of the wagon by a furious Moreni, "No Talvin you too sneaky little peeker. Ginevra doesn't need an audience. You heard Grana, and don't be lying about it. Girls and Women only was and is the rule till our guest is properly healed. Scoot or I'll see you not get to sit with the men when the dances are performed, ever. Shoo! Shoo!"

Ginny's head was on fire with a deep throbbing, but the delectable view of Moreni's bare legs and the hint of more that was going to make her sleep come slowly. If ever that is as she was friskier than she were comfortable with. She wanted to cry again from frustration and the diminishing hopes that her loves would be found in this life. It did bother that she were so infatuated with this stranger.

"Hiya, Ginevra! Nice to meet you. Don't be mad at Talvin he's stupid not a peeker. He was distracted and forgot you were in here. Mor, can me and Talvin have some of that dried mango? We were still hungry and thought of them. That's why we had just shoved in." the tiny clone of Moreni asks in a part explanation and is handed the jar with a pointed nod to the door, "Thanks, see you later. Don't worry I'll keep our brother out of here. Loves Mor!" with that, the girl was out and away.

Moreni has a crimson blush rouging her cheeks but remained cheerful, "That's my baby brother and sister. They always find stuff to fight over." the girl says while sitting even more closely next to her, " I'm sorry they upset you."

"I've six brothers." she admits with a burst of heat warming her cheeks. "They've seen far more than this as we only had one privy. Now that's embarrassing."

"Oh my..." Moreni giggles then scoots in to where they are pressed tight by her side. Taking her hand the other woman asks, "Tell me what you fancy in another girl? Are they mannish like my Uncle Korlim claims about the women like you find attractive. Or are they all as devistating like you are?"

"Me?" she snorts then answers, "My loves are all as feminine as you or I. Some others may be mannish but not the ones in the Tower. Why-"

Moreni hurries to ask, "Really? Would you be able to keep a beat? I would like to show you something I'm very talented at."

"I guess I -" she tries to reply but a knock on the door has them both jump.

"Mor? Why are you up when your guest needs rest. Go to bed and remember we have an early day tomorrow ahead of us. We're low on medicinals and you promised to help me." the knocker puts an end to whatever Gin's new friend has in mind.

Ending the light orbs with a thought, Ginny and Moreni are dropped into a deep darkness. She thought they would be going to bed now to her relief, yet Moreni isn't quite done, "Ginevra, if I dance for you will you watch?"

"Dance now?" she asks in a hesitant whisper.

"Not now after Grana just scolded us. Tomorrow most like as we've not done it in a while." her friend says even if Ginny is still lost.

"I suppose so." she yawns and then is quickly kissed on the cheek by Moreni who promises, "You will love it and maybe..."

She starts to object but is a bit blitzed out by the smell and now cuddling Moreni. Staying true to her loves was proving to be a hard row to hoe she's finding out.

"Is this how Harry felt with Seandra?" she mumbles to herself.

She was right as rain that it would be murder to sleep next to a stunning woman every night for the next six as it took time for her to be fully rested. Each of them and the days in between when Moreni is caring for her only made her new friend that much cuter to her. Plus the more rested she became the more and longer her trips through the lives of other hers grew till she wishes nothing more than to cry for normalcy.

One in particular outside of the life with a blonde Hermione or that which feels closer to the life she was having before coming here, dogs her more than most. In the middle of the day Moreni is helping her bathe as she is none to steady, which was a real soar point for her as she is normally a very independent witch. And that is a huge part of her dislike of this alternate life.

Standing outside the Library with their robes on, Hermione and her are in a quiet moment for a change. Getting the Auction over was only the start. Now they have all the girls to work through and bring in. Plus the troubling discovery that their truly is another Chamber of Secrets right under Dumbledore's nose has created a worried debate among the growing families.

"I sense her." the now concubine Ginny yelps.

"Really, has she said anything yet to you." Daphne urges from behind them.

Hermione looks disturbed and demands, "Are you still bound?"

"I am, but she's not. She feels scary... I almost feel the need and desire to burn the world down and have the power to do so." the slave Ginny feels terrified.

"Oh Shut It!" she snaps at them, especially her enslaved other self. "I know that I told you how to get things fixed, why are you all about to go in there and rape another girl. I swear I'm going to murder the lot of you. Blimey let me at this "magic" and I'll end its hold. One weave of Spirit and no more using the Warder Bond to enslave poor girls, EVER!"

Hermione asks with concern, "Warder Bond?"

"That is what the Age I am in calls your demented version of Bonding. A witch and her Warder agree to be bonded. He lets her place her weave on him and- BLAMO!- they are united. This rot is pale and pathetic as neither side gets anything save the need to shag like bloody rabbits. You also can remove bonds if you know how. They are not linked to the souls of the parties involved. They are tied to a person by their anchoring thread to the Pattern. So to me you lot are a band of disgusting serial rapists. As Tommy Riddle raped me by compulsion so to are you doing the same to these girls." she snarls in a lecture for them. "I'm so glad my Ione, Daphne, Par, and Luna are twice as intelligent as you lot. My Harjit is a real man, not some twerp with a big bank account."

"Listen Gin, we have no other option for now than to do this. Dumbledore has control of Hogwarts." Hermione softly whimpers. "We hate this. We do it for love of our friends and others. We really want to end This save as a union of love and devotion."

Ginny stops to think and then asks, "How can I trust you when it was this sort of shite that I had to endure for my entire First Year?"

"What if you let us use legilmancy on you and our Gin?" Parvati questioned.

"You want to mind rape me?" she spat venomously.

"Ginny as your master and lord, I command you to let us examine you." Harry's voice commands from behind her as if she'd hop to at his silly direction.

Whipping around with a Fire whip and a Quaffle sized ball of Fire, she glares down the boy pretending to be her love. "Want to get it this time? I am not your little slave I am not bound by you and I'm seriously considering gelding your pretender hide. Now you try ordering me again and I will cook the lot of you in your own skins."

"She's not using a wand?" gasps a girl next to Harry's side.

"No fooling. I am not your little bit of a toy stick shakers. Now will you listen to me and go to the True Chamber of Secrets." she hisses.

The other Ginny pleads with her, "Don't hurt them. I love them all."

"You love them? Then let my memories be your guide. Take them to where we all should have remained aware of. Don't go unprepared and don't just keep hiding here when the war can be won if all of you listen and learn for once."she returns to the girl she is inhabiting.

A dark haired witch with one of those chokers casts a spell and suddenly the other Gin is collapsing till she takes full control. Ready to cook the bitch in a trice she is pulled up short by the other Gin screaming, "No mummy I promise I won't be bad. I promise to not ruin Dumbledore's reputation. Please don't obliviate me. Ple-"

The silence is deafening, as is the remembering of her own bit of living through that. "Satisfied?" she growls at them.

The lot swarm Gin, dragging the girl in for a large group hug that feels delicious to even the angry Ginny visiting this twisted other world. "Merlin what happened?" Harry worries oer the slave Gin.

Hissing in fury Ginny points out, "The girl's obliviations are gone. She is full and free of what was denied her. In my world and life it was simply that I wa feared to be queer and had been raped and whored out by Tom Riddle my whole freakin' first year. For Her in your world where queer witchly love is expected I'd be hard pressed to say more than she was like as not raped like me. But that may be as big a fun bonding time for you lot here. I'm funny that way."

Harry and Hermione look at her then ask in near unison. "Why do you think we do this?"

"You have demented ideas of what is a bond. You tell me if you've better." she spits from the woozy lips of this other Gin.

"We do it out of love but not out of a demented joy. If we could fix things we will." Harry snaps at her. "I hate thinking of my loves here as whores."

"If that is the case go to the true Chamber. Slytherin saw the wrong in what we chose to forget. Go and fix things."

Gin's other self asks, "Will you forgive me, Harry, for letting them try trapping you?"

He leans in and kisses her, it felt strange but loving. Gin wanted more to be taken...

... Jerking to she is being held by Moreni who is gripping the necklace with worry.

"What did you do?" she demands.

"I was trying to speak with you and then you were somebody else speaking as you say your homeland does. She sounded frightened and hurt. When I tried to keep her or you from running I caught hold of this and was somewhere else. It was me but not. I was on a silver leash and couldn't run away. Then a black haired man with a lightening bolt shaped scar was releasing me and my baby sister. His green eyes were soft and caring for us but he was a male channelor. He butchered the women who held us and others captive. Telling us that we were safe now, but was asking us also if we'd seen you and a Hermione. He had a strange pair of moving portraits of you and him in a locket.OH Gin I was so scared, but then I was here with you and holding you as we are now." Moreni whimpers and falls into her arms.

Taking off her prized necklace with trembling fingers, Ginny now knew what she was wearing. It was a ter'angriel and she'd been too stupid to see it. Then it hit her. Those were truly her other lives. That and realizing Moreni and her baby sister are witches too means the pair will have to come with her and her sister in-laws to Salidar. They must be trained as she knew the silver leashes sound like what Egwene kept crying about in her sleep when Gin and the Circle were next door planning their escapes.

"Mor?" the girl's Grana was calling through the door forestalling Ginny from revealing what Moreni truly is, "Mor tonight we dance. Ange and Ali have requested seeing it and I think it would be rather fun for the camp. Get ready for it dear as you are our best in decades."

Her friend blossoms in a mischievous smile just for Ginny, "Come on Gin. Tonight I will lift your spirits. Tonight I dance for youand you alone."

The girl swiftly kisses her on the corner of her mouth then frantically goes about changing clothes as if Gin isn't there. However the sight of her friend's bare body was a view she knew would haunt her nights with denied desire for as long as she lives. She also is reminded of her own state of half bathed and bare as a babe. She first has to pack away her ter'angriel for safety sake. She also has a nascent hope that if some mirror Harry is alive then so to can her own love be out there searching for her. Seeing the lamp nearby with its tiny flame, she is tempted to go searching that way but is afraid all she'll manage is terrifying some goodwife cooking supper.

Moreni comes over and touches her shoulder with concern, "Are you alright?"

"I am. You've given me hope. I need that." she replies, causing a blush on her friend's cheeks.

The girl slams into her with a hug that near shatters her ribs then gazes into her eyes with a look that has Ginny grow very, very warm. "Then tonight I'll give you so much more than you know." Moreni's hands cup her cheeks as their eyes are locked solidly in a world separate from anything else. "Tonight a Tua'than Dancer is promising you a show that will change your life and offer you a wagon to hook up to for as long as you wish."

Kissing her forehead Moreni leaves her rather warm and so very torn as to what she should or could do. As a well and true spoken for witch she is a bit flustered by her mad attraction for the young witch whose flashing dark eyes trap her soul at every momentary contact.

Staring at the tiny flame, she thinks of her lovers. True they might be dead but she was theirs not her libido's thus she must anchor her own soul on the hopes of them coming for her.

Staring at herself in the small polished brass mirror Moreni was using she sees the girl that had dedicated herself to her loves and not the angry lost bitch she's been of late. In fact her headache was less, almost a ghost of a memory. She knew she has been given a great gift and has aided others in redirecting their own lives but using that ter'angriel must be done with care.

Picking up the lamp she speaks the flame towards her loves, praying they had a fire near them, "Hello loves, I live and will find you. I will stay true to you all. I love you so much."

Some man's voice yelps, "Bloody be hearin' shit now, besh be for puttin' shide me drinkin'. Me blessed mum tol' me I be for danger a drinkin' like Da."

Biting her lip to not laugh but also glad she has a purpose and tools to aid her, she gets ready for the night. Telling Moreni that there can not be anything will have to come but for the now, she is going to focus on her fidelity to her loves. Maybe if they were proven dead or it were years from now with no news, they may have a chance. But she still has hope, and that is nothing to toss aside. Tears of freedom conquer her friskier tendencies.

With a smile she steps out to face the light of day, free of what she felt was encroaching madness and her uncertainties about her own heart. Fresh air and a bright sun above leads her to laugh and run out to dance in unabashed glee. She is her Harry's and their Circle's witch and she is alive in a world where she is free from slavery or terror.

"I am Ginevra Molly Potter nee Weasley and I am a witch of my choosing! I am no one's slave!" she spins and twirls in the liberating escape from her heart break and torture by the strange ter'angriel. "I am me alone!"