It was time for the Gauntlet to begin. As the Weasleys began to line up in the small arena, the Lovegood ghosts huddled up against the edge of the ring. Witnessing the full force of the Weasleys, the watching crowd began to realise just how large the family was, the ringed box for the match to take place in swamped with red heads in every nook and cranny. The sight was awe inspiring.

'Showoffs', said Lucius bitterly through a mouthful of mini cheddars, gazing at the display of power.

From a quickly erected stand next to the ring, Dumbledore appeared, twinkling at everyone with a cheerful, mischievous glint in his eye. 'It's so wonderful to see what the Power Of Love can do', he said, twirling his fingers in a knowing way. 'So beautiful. Truly, the most powerful force in the world'

There was a small smattering of applause, and someone coughed awkwardly. The watching crowd were all pretty sure it was the power of the Weasley's biceps that was going to win this battle: certainly, the Lovegood ancestors weren't frightened of the Weasley's overpowering love. Dumbledore, however, seemed to either not notice the dissenting gazes people were giving him or not care. He gave them all a benevolent smile before finishing off his speech with a bellowed 'Let the Lovegood Gauntlet begin!', disappearing in mysterious shower of sparks and leaving a confused crowd staring at the space where he had been.

'Well, that was certainly a speech', said someone after an awkward pause.

'It was definitely something'.

The competitors in the ring looked too stunned to move, but after a few minutes Ginny Weasley was the first to rouse herself. She looked into the faces of the Lovegood ancestors, and as she did the full force of the Weasley family behind her came to life. The outcome of the match was clear to everyone: imbued with mysterious and powerful spells from the afterlife or not, those ancestors were toast.

Draco watched the weedy figure of Harry Potter leaping about, eyes narrowed as he sipped his paper cup of Shloer. The boy was decidedly far more graceful in flight that on foot: witnessing his pathetic hopping about, Potter clearly had two left feet. Voldemort had told the Malfoys to alert him when Potter was at his weakest, but Draco thought this moment was difficult to quantify as he always appeared to be at his weakest. He watched idly as the boy flailed about, attempting to punch a tiny old ancestor who looked as though they could be blown away by a breath of wind. Well, he supposed that now was as good of an opportunity as any. He looked at his father, who was happily tucking into a scotch egg; noticing his son staring at him, he seemed to get the gist. He shoved the entire egg into his mouth and, still munching nodded at Narcissa to help him roll out the carpet. As they shooed people out the way to make room to lay it out, Draco pressed his Dark Mark.

/

As Mrs Weasley fought several ghosts at once, crushing them almost instantly, she looked fondly at her daughter. Ginny was a true terror on the battlefield: she had got hold of a steel pipe that had been laying on the ground and was now hurling it over her head, decimating the ghosts in their multitudes. She watched as one ghost attempted to summon a spell of impenetrable darkness but was cut short by the metal instrument chopping it in half. Reincarnated ghosts were massing sulkily by the side of the ring, having been forbidden to re-enter once they were 'killed': she watched as one irritably blew a raspberry in her direction. Mrs Weasley's eyes teared up as she watched her family fight for her daughter: truly, Dumbledore had been right, The Power Of Love was a tremendous force. That and substantial muscle mass gains, of course. As she decapitated a ghost through the sheer power of her proximity, Mrs Weasley glanced sadly at Harry, who was attempting to cast Expelliarmus on the ghosts: evidently, he hadn't bothered to pay attention in their theory sessions. Only pure muscle could defeat ghosts, spells were completely pointless. She sighed, determined to give him a good talking to when they got home.

/

As the crowd cried 'WEASLEY! WEASLEY!' in an ecstatic chant, Voldemort apparated smoothly onto the red carpet. He was dressed in his black robes, Nagini round his shoulders, a bone chilling sight. His voice came out in a grating hiss, the very sound enough to send shivers down the spine.

'I have come for Harry Potter'.

Unfortunately for him, the crowd was shrieking so wildly and were so intently focused on the intense battle raging before them they didn't hear his soft whisper, or even notice him at all. Voldemort cleared his throat irritably, before trying again.

'I HAVE COME FOR HARRY POTTER', he said loudly. This time people heard, slowly turning in horror to stare at him.

Terrified faces gazed in shock as he walked down the red carpet to the ring, the force of his malevolence radiating in waves, a deadly silence following in his wake. Potter, having finally realised his spell work was pointless against the ghosts, turned to place his wand in his pocket. As he did so, he noticed Voldemort, swore loudly and dropped the wand in shock. It rolled off to somewhere in the arena, quickly enveloped by the crush of Weasleys. Cackling madly, the Dark Lord ascended up the steps to the ring, blasting the rope apart with a spell ready to murder the thorn in his side once and for all as Harry fumbled on the ground, desperately trying to find his wand, the battle still raging around them. Most of the Weasleys were so filled with bloodlust they hadn't noticed the sudden silence from the crowd, nor the entrance of pure evil into their ring. One of these fighters was Ginny: she spun madly with her pipe, sending ghosts ricocheting through the stratosphere, moving like a dancer, twirling the pipe overhead, attempting to hit a ghost-

And instead hitting the head of Lord Voldemort, whom had been reciting his glorious speech of victory as he prepared to polish Harry off. He landed with a splat on the floor: finally, all the Weasley's heard the deafening silence around them and realised something had changed. Everyone turned their heads to look at Ginny, and the body of the Dark Lord on the ground.

/

'Wow', said Luna. 'I never realised the Lovegood Sword could tremble like that. And did it emit a whimper when it officially knighted you into the family?'

Ginny shrugged, giving her girlfriend a nonchalant smile as she attempted to steer them through the hordes of fangirls ringing the square. It was a couple of weeks since she had killed Voldemort, and in that time Ginny had been elevated to a position on the Wizengamot, set up a small business selling protein shakes and bought a mansion with her prize money. A trend for weightlifting and going to the gym had swept through the ecstatic wizarding population: Quidditch was now a thing of the past, as was Harry Potter. To be fair, Ginny mused as she escorted Luna into a limo before getting in herself (which would drive to her brand new mansion), The Boy Who Lived was coping with the sudden fall to being average very well, in fact he seemed to rather enjoy it. As soon as he had realised the media attention was no longer on him he had set off for a six week camping trip with his new boyfriend Draco Malfoy, both of whom had apparently been harbouring crushes on one another since first year. Outside, the sky was blue and birds chirped merrily. They passed enormous statues of the Weasley family which had been erected on one of Hogsemede's main streets. Oh yes, Ginny thought as her girlfriend kissed her, life was good.

The method that Ginny used to kill Voldemort was a little reference to one of my favourite podcasts Fanatical Fics and Where to Find Them. If you know it, you know.

I hope you enjoyed this story! I will be posting more (on this fic) , but I might take a small break to work on my other fic for a while. Please follow and review, I really appreciate it.