Journey of Time
Disclaimer: Plot, mine; characters not in HP books, mine; characters from HP books, anything related to HP books, not mine.
A/N: Yey, I like this chapter! I really hope it's as much fun to read as it was to write! (*hint hint* review!) I try not to post a chapter until I have the next one written but I might break that rule on this chapter...I'm just so excited about it! And the story is only about halfway through...so don't think it's the end...
Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, you guys RoXoRs! I appreciate every single one of them. And I'm beginning to like Damien a bit myself...
Chapter 5
Ginny opened her bedroom door and peeked out into the darkened hallway. Looking quickly left then right, she ascertained that she couldn't see anyone around. Good. She paused, straining her ears for any unusual sound. Only the steady beat of rain on the roof above. Excellent.
She slipped out from behind the door and tiptoed her way down the deserted hall. She still had her nightgown on and also her newly washed and returned cardigan. She decided to keep her feet bare since she was most likely about to be soaked. She wasn't sure how far away the east lawn stables were from the castle but it was raining pretty hard; she was sure to be sopping wet in a minute.
Ginny found her way to the front door, thinking quickly. If the castle was east, the east lawn would technically have to be behind the castle. She had forgotten, however, about the guards.
The doors were slightly uneven so she peered through the crack they made. One appeared to be sleeping, the other she couldn't tell. If he wasn't, she had to come up with a quick excuse for traipsing around the grounds in her nightclothes. Holding her breath, she pulled the door open slowly. Neither guard turned. The second one was sleeping propped up against the sidewall.
Gratefully, Ginny let her breath out slowly and ran past them. Grinning inwardly, she wondered what the Earl of Winchester would think of his guards sleeping on the job, but she didn't give it a second thought. Soaked in an instant, she jogged toward the back of the castle, staying close to the stone wall. She reached the east lawn, spotting the stables; there was a single window with candlelight coming through. Pulling her cardigan tighter over her shoulders, hoping for some warmth, she dashed toward the stables, intent on getting there. She had to speak with that woman.
Reaching the door she hesitated before finally knocking. The door was thrown back and the man that had entered the Great Hall earlier stood there, glowering down at her. "You've been expected," He said gruffly in his strange accent. He stood back to let her in.
Shaking, with cold or nervousness, she wasn't sure, Ginny entered the unsteady building. To her right was the stable area, she could hear voices laughing and talking in strange languages. But the man put a rough hand on her shoulder and steered her to the left where there was a door. Opening it, he shoved her inside and closed the door behind her. Ginny glanced back at the door before looking around the room. There was a makeshift bed of old straw with a blanket on top. The floor was dirt and the room smelled of earth and rotting wood. Ginny spotted the woman on a stool near the window at a small table. There was another stool and on the table was a burning candle. The woman motioned Ginny to sit down with a soft smile.
Numb from the cold, dripping from the rain, Ginny walked over and sat stiffly. She never took her eyes off the gypsy.
The woman looked Ginny up and down, delight in her eyes. Finally, she spoke in a rich voice with the same strange accent. It was the voice from Ginny's dream. Somehow, Ginny was not surprised. "You have questions," the woman stated. Ginny nodded once. "And you think I have the answers." The woman arched an eyebrow at her.
Ginny was surprised when she heard her own voice ask, "Do you?"
The woman chuckled then tilted her head. "Some," was all she replied.
"I had a dream of you," Ginny whispered, thinking that this encounter seemed strangely surreal itself.
The woman nodded. "I am not surprised," She replied simply. "I've been waiting for you," She added.
Ginny sucked in her breath quickly but didn't speak; only stared at the woman. She was quite beautiful; long, curly, raven dark hair, piercing black eyes and smooth, pale skin. Ginny waited for the woman to continue.
"My name is Kiandra," the woman looked out the window. "I am…special…to these people. Special in a way that can never be known to others." Kiandra looked back to Ginny. "What do you know of magic?" she asked bluntly.
Ginny was caught off guard. Wasn't magic forbidden in this century? She remembered reading about the women accused of being witches that were exiled or burned for being different. Most of the time, they weren't even magic people, just outcasts and nuisances that the public needed to get rid of. To speak openly of magic had to be dangerous. The woman was waiting for Ginny's response.
"You know why I'm here?" Ginny answered the question with a question.
Kiandra laughed. "Smart girl," She nodded again. "You are here because I brought you here," She grinned wryly. "Does that make you more comfortable to speak of such things?"
Ginny was full of questions now. "How did you bring me here? Why? Why am I here? Can I get back, is there a way?"
The woman held up her hand, silencing her. "You must answer my question first, then I will tell you all I know."
Ginny took a deep breath, sizing Kiandra up, wondering if she was trustworthy. What do I have to lose? She thought finally, letting her breath out slowly.
"My name's Virginia, but everyone calls me Ginny," She started, figuring it would be nice to introduce herself as well. "I'm from the 20th century, 1997 to be exact," Kiandra clapped her hands together excitedly but didn't speak. Ginny continued. "Magic, let's see, there's so much…" Ginny launched into an explanation as best she could about Muggles and Wizards and her life at Hogwarts. Kiandra listened enthusiastically, only making Ginny pause a few times by asking questions, but most of the time listening silently. Ginny finished by saying that witchcraft was still not acceptable by all Muggles, but most of the time the witches and wizards could hide it from those who wished not to believe. "Oh yes, and burning people at the stake is no longer acceptable," She added.
Kiandra's eyes were lit up with delight. "Your time sounds fascinating, Ginny. I must admit, that is why I created the spell, I wanted to know about the future," She confided. "The 15th century is much to mundane for my tastes," Her eyes looked down at the table, losing some of their luster. "I have always had…'special' abilities, since I was younger. My mum hid them from everyone, afraid I would be put to death by people who didn't understand. After she died, this clan of gypsies, unafraid of unusual happenings, took me in. Some may be magic people themselves, although I have never observed anyone attempt anything unusual." Kiandra looked back up to Ginny. "I am rambling…you deserve an explanation," She smiled stiffly.
Ginny nodded. That's what she wanted, and explanation of what was happening. Kiandra exhaled slowly and looked out the window. "I never thought it would actually work," She started, pausing. It seemed forever before she spoke again, the only noise being that of the rain falling on the sagging roof above. "I am a curious girl, by nature, Ginny." Kiandra began again. "The future is my true weakness, I am obsessed with finding out all I can about it." She pulled something from her robes, setting it on the table in between them. It was a deck of Tarot cards, the back the same as the one Ginny used to port to this time. Ginny let an audible gasp escape her lips. She turned upset eyes to Kiandra, waiting for her to continue.
"Tarot cards," Kiandra nodded. "They have these in your time?" At Ginny's nod she proceeded, shuffling the cards unconsciously. "They were invented about ten years ago, 'Visconti Trumps' they are known as, to most. I chose 'The Wheel' as it involves the properties of Time and Knowledge. I researched for almost a year before I attempted to enchant the card with a spell of my own making. The intention was to send myself into the future; however, I must have mixed words up or said them incorrectly. I thought I had failed, that my card didn't work." Kiandra turned her dark eyes on Ginny, smiling slightly. "I guess I was wrong," she whispered. "It worked, just not how I intended."
There was another long pause. "Can you reverse it?" Ginny finally asked the question that was bearing most on her mind.
The woman looked her straight in the eye. "There is no reversal that I know of. I did not think of one much less make one. When I went into the future, I wanted to stay," She informed her, looking a bit sad. "There could be a way, but I do not know what it is," she said quieter.
Ginny couldn't stop the disappointed sigh from escaping. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Another dead end, she thought wearily. I may be stuck here forever. "Why me?" She asked out loud, biting her lip to hold back the tears that were suddenly threatening.
Kiandra looked up at Ginny. "That I can answer," she grinned half-heartedly. "Although it may not be the answer you want to hear," she added. Ginny looked at her, waiting for her to explain.
"Magic has a life of it's own, it's a living, breathing entity. It only needs people to give it life, it decides it's own fate. Once a spell is cast, it has a mind of it's own. It chooses whom it obeys, it chooses who it wants to effect. I only started the magic with my spell on the card, I gave it a beginning. It has created it's own end. Magic chooses who it will act on; it chose you, not the other way around."
Ginny stared at her, processing her words. They made sense, as weird as the concept was. "So I have to figure out the trick, the ending that the spell created itself?"
"Yes," Kiandra replied.
Ginny sighed. She was right, that wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. Kiandra smiled. "I will help you find your way back, Ginny. You're not alone anymore." She reached a hand out and rested it on Ginny's shoulder, trying to reassure her.
Ginny stood up, angrily pushing her chair back, jumping away from Kiandra's hand. "You did this," she hissed; mad at the situation, more than mad at the girl. Kiandra kept her face indifferent but her eyes showed that Ginny's anger hurt her. Ginny didn't care. "You brought me back here by messing with something you didn't understand. Now I'm stuck here, away from my family and my friends, and all you can offer me is how I got back here. No solutions. No answers. You say you'll help me...how? How can you? If what you say is true, then there's no way to know if the spell will ever end!"
Ginny's raised voice caused a knock on the door. The man opened it, looking at Kiandra with concern. "Is everything alright?" He asked, glaring at Ginny.
Kiandra nodded quickly. "Yes, I think it's time for Ginny to go back to the castle, however. She's had enough for one night." Kiandra turned her gaze back to Ginny. "We'll talk more tomorrow morning," She promised.
Ginny stared at the woman. Tomorrow? She wanted to go home now. She opened her mouth to protest but a rough shake of her arm stopped her. The man was dragging her out of the room, whether she wanted to go or not. Ginny's mouth snapped shut, allowing herself to be pulled; there was no way she could fight him. He shoved her outside and slammed the door in her face, seeming to be glad to be rid of her.
Ginny stood in the rain, staring at the closed door. The only person that could answer her questions was inside. But she didn't have the answers, not the right answers at least. Ginny refused to believe she was stuck here forever. She turned gradually and began her way back to the castle slowly.
The rain hadn't let up in the time she spent inside. Ginny hardly noticed. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn't even notice when someone stepped in front of her until she barreled into them head first. Two arms reached out to steady her before she fell backward. Ginny looked up and met the gray eyes of Damien Despencer.
"What are you doing out here?" She asked a bit breathless from their run in.
"I could ask the same," he growled, shoving her away from him. "Except I know,"
Ginny blinked, staring at him. "You know?" She asked, wondering what he meant.
"I followed you out here, Ginny," His voice was deathly quiet but she could hear it clear as day over the rain that poured around them. "I followed you out here and I listened to what you said, Ginny. I know."
Ginny's jaw dropped, she was struck speechless. She grasped for words to explain but none came to mind, she could only stare at Damien who began advancing on her. "You are a witch," His voice was icy but Ginny could swear his eyes looked hurt. She took a small step backward.
"It-It's not like you think, Damien," Ginny stammered, finding her voice. "I never lied to you,"
"You lie as we speak," Damien cut her off, halting his progression toward her. "You do not know what I think, so how could you assume I am wrong?"
Ginny blinked and frowned, not expecting that answer. "Damien, please, I'm only trying to find my way back, I'm just a victim in this whole thing," She begged, unsure of the expression on his face. The rain matted his hair to his head and rivulets of water fell down his face. His gray eyes searched her face intensely but the rest of his manner was unreadable. "Don't hate me," She added before she could stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes pleading with his. Both forgot it was raining.
He blinked, expression changing to surprise. "I do not hate you, Ginny," He replied, taking a small step in her direction. He was only inches away from her, but somehow, Ginny didn't feel threatened. A thought crossed her mind that startled her. He finally understands.
"Ginny," He started, but faltered. He brought a hand to her cheek, brushing the back of his knuckles on her soaked jawbone. Ginny felt her eyes widen in surprise. He looked so sad, so uncertain that Ginny wasn't sure what to do.
She didn't have to know. He closed the gap between them, bringing his lips to hers. Ginny was so startled she couldn't react at first. Their lips were cold from the rain but the instant after they touched she could feel them warm. She found herself kissing him back, feeling her body sink into his. One of his hands found its way around the back of her head and she felt him run his fingers through her wet hair. The kiss grew more intense, his other hand lifting on her lower back. In the recesses of Ginny's mind she faintly thought he smelled like a mix of rainwater and ginger. She felt intense emotions swirling in her head, making her dizzy.
He was the one to pull away, still holding her in his arms. He looked down at her, eyes still sad. "I am sorry, I should not have,"
Ginny silenced him, shaking her head. "No, Damien, don't be sorry," She whispered. She stepped away from him. "We just...can't." She finished, her own eyes sorrowful.
With a small nod, he too took a step back. He looked up to the sky, seeing the rain as if it just started. "We better get you inside," He said lightly. "We would not want you to become ill," Damien took her hand and led her back toward the castle without another word.
Ginny felt herself shiver, but from the chill of being drenched or from his touch on her skin, she wasn't sure. That kiss had been intense but she knew in her head she couldn't dwell on it. If she was to find a way back to her time, she couldn't attach herself to anything, or anyone, in this time. She had to suppress any feelings she had for Damien. Her heart was telling her that was easier said than done.
Sneaking back through the still sleeping guards, Damien paused in the Entrance Hall. "This is where I leave you," He turned to face her, his face barely lit by the last burning candles. The sound of raindrops on the roof echoed in the hall. He bent in a small bow and took her hand, brushing the back of her knuckles along his damp lips. "Good night, Ginny," He whispered, before backing away into the shadows.
Ginny stood in the Entrance Hall, dripping, for the longest time. She was too unsure of herself to move. She glanced from side to side, but no one was coming. The castle seemed peaceful and at rest. I should really get to bed, she thought, suddenly exhausted by the day's events.
There was a pounding on the door, so sudden Ginny almost tripped over her own feet when she heard it. Nervously, she turned, eyes wide, holding her breath, waiting to see if it happened again. It did, this time, she was facing the door, and she could see it buckle inward with the blow. She started to creep backward, too terrified to think clearly.
The next blow splintered the wood. Whatever was trying to come through would accomplish just that within seconds. Ginny took a deep breath to yell for help, regaining some of her senses, when the final blow tore through the door.
Soldiers came pouring in like insects, spreading out and filling the hall. The tallest and most heavily armored, apparently the leader by the way he yelled at the others, spotted her and moved toward her. Ginny was paralyzed, caught like a deer in headlights. She couldn't feel her legs and they wouldn't move, as much as she willed them too. She heard herself whimper slightly as the man heading toward her raised his sword over his head, and she saw the beginning of its arch downward.
She was suddenly thrown to the side, the wind knocked out of her, her wet hair clinging to her face. She couldn't see anything but she felt herself being pushed to her feet and in a certain direction. Not knowing what else to do, amazed she was still alive, she allowed herself to be shoved into a room. Ginny heard the door crash shut behind her and a noise like a lock being turned.
Desperately she began to pull at her hair, trying to wipe it from her eyes. Succeeding, she saw someone with silvery hair trying to push a table in front of the door. Ginny ran over hurriedly and helped Damien shove it the final few feet. Just in time it seemed, as the pounding began only seconds after.
Panting, they both sank to the floor. Ginny looked at him, still gasping for breath. "You saved me," She breathed, a bit in awe.
He shook his head and sat back, taking a deep breath. "No, they are still coming," He pointed at the door. "I hope I have not only delayed the inevitable." He muttered unhappily.
Ginny was at a loss for words. She stared at him helplessly as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the dark gray stone wall. There was a tear in the sleeve of his shirt and upon further inspection it seemed to be bleeding quite a bit.
"You're hurt," She stated, looking around for something to stop the bleeding. They were in the practice room that Ginny had seen Damien and his father practicing swords in earlier. Not much but metal and wood.
Damien waved it off, not opening his eyes. "I am fine." He replied.
Ginny realized it must have happened when he pushed her out of the way of that man's sword. Looking down at her soaked clothes she stood up and ran over to a set of swords. Finding the sharpest she could, she began sawing at the hem of her nightgown until it began to rip on it's own. Letting the sword fall to the ground with a clatter, she tore off a strip of cloth from the bottom of her clothes and went back over to Damien. Tying it tightly around his wound, she looked at his face. He seemed pale, but that was usual for him...or was that Draco? Wasn't Damien a bit tanner than Malfoy? Her head was swimming.
Renewed pounding on the door made Damien's eyes fly open. He looked down at her handiwork then at her with an attempted smile. Pushing himself to his feet he glanced around the room. "Over there, go," he pointed to a corner concealed in shadows.
"What about you?" Ginny asked, standing, grabbing his good arm.
He looked down at her, his eyes softening for the briefest second. "Do not worry about me," He replied, kissing her gently on the forehead. He pushed her lightly in the direction of the corner and went to retrieve a sword. He was going to fight.
Not knowing what else to do, Ginny obeyed him, heading for the dark corner. She watched as he swung the sword in practice with his good arm. He kept glancing at the door, knowing they would break through any moment. He seemed to avoid looking toward her corner.
The door finally gave in; three soldiers crawled in over the table, followed by their leader. He was glaring harshly at Damien, though Damien didn't seem to notice. But Ginny could see he was watching their every breath out of the corner of his eye.
"Leave us," the leader snarled, motioning for the soldiers to go. Hesitating only a moment, the soldiers crawled back out the way they came.
"deFerrers," Damien said in greeting, still not looking at him. "You have made a mistake," Ginny shuddered at the coldness of Damien's voice. DeFerrers didn't even flinch.
"We shall see," he replied, crouching down in what Ginny figured was the 'ready to fight' position. Damien followed suit.
Ginny held her breath as she stared at the two of them in their face off. The rain had let up slightly and the incessant patter on the roof was waning. The moon must have been peeking from behind the clouds because it was shining through the window on Damien's hair, illuminating him, making him look surreal. The candles that we were still lit burnt low, fluttering, ready to go out. Ginny felt like time stopped, that the moment lasted for hours.
Damien liked to be on the defensive, he waited for deFerrers to strike first.
The clang of metal was startling to Ginny, still unfamiliar to her ears. The noise caused her to breathe, a good reaction since she was starting to see black spots.
The swords were a silver blur to Ginny. Her mind could barely grasp that they were actually moving that fast with sharp, pointy objects. The noise filled the room, drowning out the rain.
Damien's face was a picture of concentration. DeFerrers had a slight maniacal look, maybe it was the evil smile, but he looked ready to win at any cost. And he was much better than the bandit she saw Damien fight earlier.
Damien held himself well, especially considering his injury. Ginny almost forgot he had it. Her eyes widened when she saw deFerrers strike at an unprotected side of Damien. She gasped silently when his sword contacted with skin, slicing through Damien's shirt.
It was what Damien wanted; it left deFerrers open for the final, killing strike. Damien glared fiercely into the dying face of his enemy, pulling his sword out from deFerrers' body and shoving him to the ground.
Ginny couldn't move. In her time she would have just witnessed a self-defense murder. Here, in this time, this was commonplace. She stared at deFerrers' dead body, feeling sick to her stomach. The realization that it could have been Damien caused her knees to fail and she sat down hard on the stone floor.
Damien turned his head toward her. Their eyes locked across the room He took a step toward her then cringed, holding his wound and sinking to his knees. His sword dropped with a clatter.
Even though she lost the feeling in her legs, Ginny got up and raced to his side. He was on the ground, looking paler than Malfoy, eyes closed. She put his head in her lap, afraid for a moment he, too, was dead. His eyes fluttered open to her immense relief.
"You're not dead," She sniffed, brushing his still damp hair from his forehead.
"Not yet," He grunted, attempting to push himself up on one elbow. It hurt too much; he fell back, wincing.
Ginny leaned over him, inspecting his wound. It didn't look too deep but she didn't know much about 15th century medicine. She wished she had her wand.
She felt the tears begin to threaten. "I don't know what to do for you," She whispered worriedly.
His gray eyes, clouded with pain, met hers but he managed to smile. "I will be okay," He promised, reaching a hand up to touch her cheek. She saw him wince slightly at the effort.
"I-I wanted to thank you for saving me," She thought maybe if she talked it would make him or her feel better. "Twice," She added, seeing a tear roll down her cheek and fall on his shirt. It wasn't helping her.
His expression turned solemn. "Ginny, don't," He said, his voice rough with pain. His fingers brushed a tear from her cheek before falling to his chest. She took it in her own hand, sniffing.
"I wish things were different, Damien," She rushed on, not heeding his plea. "I can't stay, I have to find a way back," She felt herself ready to start sobbing and quelled the feeling before continuing. "I wish I could because, I...I'm..."
His eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I know," He tried to give a reassuring smile but to Ginny it just looked pained.
I love you, She thought, trying to convey it with her eyes. We can never be together, but you understand me, and you've saved me and I've fallen in love with you.
Ginny saw his eyes widen with surprise. "What?" She asked aloud, looking over her shoulder at the empty room. She turned back to him, worried. "What's wrong?"
He held her hand up that was clasped to his. It was pale in the moonlight, almost translucent...wait, it was translucent! She saw her hand fading in his and looked down to find that she could see through her whole body.
"Wait!" She cried, realizing the spell was over and she was going back to her time. But she wasn't ready, it was too soon. But the spell, ever intent with it's own agenda, did not listen.
"Good-bye, Ginny," Damien managed to sit up and hug her unsubstantial, quickly fading body. It looked as if it took all his strength to do so. "I love you, as well,"
And suddenly, the world was black.
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