#three
#
Ginny trembled as she watched as her "hero" stepped through the charred doorframe, hailed by curtains of smoke. And all she could think was, this can't be happening.
He paid her no attention, walking lazily up the carpet of blood to the remaining Death Eater. The befreckled man grappled vainly for his life as he shot curse after curse at his assailant. They bounced off harmlessly into the walls; Ginny winced as one ricocheted wildly against the edge of her shelter, feeling its heat against her cheeks.
Harry Potter straightened up from his easy stance, his eyes an inextinguishable emerald blaze. His footsteps were a molten trail leading from the ruined doorway. His expression was unbearable, his silence terrifying.
The Death Eater found himself frozen in place as Harry reached out slowly with one hand for his face and gently covered his eyes. Harry finally spoke, his words stealing up softly like a shadow creeping up a wall.
"You don't deserve to live" was all he said.
The Death Eater then gave out a scream that crawled up Ginny's spine and doused her with a sensation of ice water. He buckled backwards, hands curling up into rigid claws rending at the empty air, body convulsing with seizures. Ginny felt her stomach lurch and rebel as she watched all color drain from the man's skin, leaving waxy white flesh in its place. The yells continued for a few more seconds, then a loud crunch, and the Death Eater's body crumpled limply onto the floor and fell away from Harry's hand. He had snapped his own spine and his life floated away fitfully like a sheet of crumpled paper caught away on the breeze.
Harry lowered his arm.
#
I could feel the lives being taken through the door; the screams of souls forcibly separated from their bodies battered me when I approached the room. It stank of terror and despair, all touched with the filthy undercurrents of dark magic. It was a sordid miasma of auras I drank in, and it made me sick. I knew the Death Eaters in there were dead already.
Anger bubbled within me, hot enough to boil rock. Therefore flames were the way to go. I took the stronger one first. Her soul was like swiss cheese, missing chunks that had been eaten away by dark magic and her own malice. Felt it burn away into the lightest of ash. Heard the screams of her partner. Screams of anguish that made me wonder what kind of relationship they shared-Comrades under the name of the Dark Lord? Lovers, maybe? It didn't matter. Neither of them deserved to live.
For killing wizards, the Killing Curse (ha, ha) was the way to go. Except using dark magic makes me nauseous. Tears me up inside-makes me empty my stomach and throw up blood. Thus, my other instructed me of alternate ways of destroying Death Eaters.
Was it murder? Hell yes. Azkaban did a number on me. So I sucked the life and magic out of the other Death Eater, kinda the same way a vampire feeds on its victims. Only sometimes I whistle as I work; I dunno if a vampire can do that while his teeth are buried in someone else's neck.
My father would have wept to see his child now.
…And his body hit the floor, leaving only Ginny shaking behind her table like the last leaf on a tree left to brave Autumn's winds. Seeing her made my throat close up a little. She looked the same.
She drew herself upright-Kudos to her courage-and looked at me. Her eyes sort of told me her story and I realized why she stood before me, all alone. Her sorrow was bitter, very better.
Then, "aren't you dead?"
I almost smiled. I figured I'd be getting that a lot in the future. My other brushed by softly in the back of my mental storage boxes in amusement. It was a mess in there, and he was nice enough to clean and label everything.
"No," I replied. That sounded funny too. My voice was totally detached from my roiling thoughts and her memories, all stirring together unpleasantly in my head.
My other whispered something that got lost in translation. I caught onto the tail end of the message and hung on for the ride. "More Death Eaters may be coming. We should go."
She had thrown me off track, and now I needed to get out of here and think again.
Ginny nodded, then followed me out of the room with a weariness that saddened me. She looked the same on the outside, but the inside stuff was broke.
#
They looked out from the edge of a mutilated London.
Harry was troubled. He'd set out to do something there in that Death Eater infested building, but finding Ginny had upset the balance of his mind and-putting it lamely, he forgot. He did know Voldie's rats would open up their windows and throw garbage (among other things) at them if they didn't hurry. Actually, Harry really didn't mind all that action, but the other voice warned that Ginny could become a liability if the situation got rocky.
Which surprised him:
"Why are we running away?"
He turned to see rage radiating from Ginny's hazel eyes. She looked fairly menacing, almost reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley's appearance when the kindly witch was rampaging about Fred or George or sometimes both. "Why are we running away?" She repeated. He didn't answer; she continued, "there's other prisoners in that building. And are you going to let all of them get away with what they did?"
He offered her a grim smile. "Evidentially you're under the impression that I'm the same Harry Potter. That's about as true as you saying you're the same Ginny Weasley."
"You're leaving them to die?" She sounded incredulous.
Harry considered, then felt what was left of his tattered Gryffindor-ness die off. He didn't survive Azkaban by being stupid, and Ginny's life on his conscience would only complicate matters. He felt the shift as the other took over momentarily. Compensated for his emotional weakness with an arctic glare, then replied softly, "we can't fight with you under our wing."
"We?" Ginny wrinkled her brow, anger momentarily lost to confusion lost to curiosity.
"Let's go" was all he said, and turned away. She watched him leave, a lean figure in a black cloak that contrasted sharply against the daytime. He never turned his head back to make sure she was following, but Ginny knew he had other ways of keeping track of her. She considered, then turned and ran back in the direction of the Death Eater's building.
Harry felt her presence begin to shrink, sighed, and followed her back in.
#
"I should have just Stunned you and dragged you back with me," Harry told Ginny, tucked behind the edge of a scorched wall. The Death Eater building was an easy structure to find; it was the only thing standing for miles upon miles around. Everything else was rubble and ruined earth. It was a monolith, a monument to Voldemort and all he stood for. Nothing lived in London outside of that building except for scavenging crows and rats, scraps of black and gray that scurried through the night.
"But you didn't," she whispered back to him. "So that's what counts."
He ignored her pert reply. "I must be fucking crazy to try this." Then he cocked his head to one side, thinking on something, and decided, "that doesn't count though. I am crazy."
"Then how'd you get in the first time?" the redhead demanded.
"You know, I had a reason for going." He looked confused, green eyes glazed over with something not quite translucent. They peeked through his bangs, fairly glowing at her. "I forgot," he admitted. "We'll remember once we get it." "We?" Ginny asked again, but was ignored as he ducked back, sitting down on the rough ground and musing over something inaudible.
It took him some time to find it again. Ginny began to feel nervous. When he'd first stepped in, he hadn't seemed real. Then his anger was frightening, then his absent-mindedness even more so. Was this the Harry she'd known in school? Of course not, she chided herself. She was drawing up false hopes, thinking maybe everything could be back to what it was at Hogwarts. Happy.
Happy without her family? Bitterness ate her up from the inside. It made her throat feel like someone had poured about a gallon of astringent down it. Closed and ugly.
Harry looked up at her suddenly. His gaze was clear; some of the old spirit was back. "Are you going in with me?" He demanded quietly.
"Yes." She held her chin up. "You try to stop me."
He chuckled slowly. It was a rich sound, and it made her warmer inside. "I wouldn't. Do you have a wand?"
Ginny made a face. "Three guesses."
Undeterred, he persisted, "do you have the remains of your wand?"
She stared. "Yes, actually, but the Unicorn hair disintegrated."
"All I need is the wood," he assured her. "There aren't any fucking trees for miles and I think summoning one would be a little too conspicuous." Ginny pictured a giant oak flying through the air and almost giggled. "Give the scraps to me."
She dug around in her pocket for a few moments, fishing out every last splinter, then deposited them into his open hand. Harry stared at the gleaming fragments and smiled slightly at them as they slowly began to rearrange back into their original form. Then, turning his attention to his own pockets, he rummaged around, finally drawing out a feather that gleamed like molten gold.
Pheonix feather? Ginny wondered. How'd he get one of those?
As if he could hear her thoughts, Harry immediately responded, "Fawkes was nice enough to give me a little gift before they locked me up. Kept me warm on cold days. It's almost a year old, so I dunno if it'll work right. Actually-" he laughed abruptly-"I really have no clue what I'm doing, but don't worry. I'll try it out first so you don't get killed." With that, he laid the feather next to the hollow wand in his hand, then gently eased it inside through the wood. The wand shuddered, glowing a little, then relaxed.
The wood was cool and smooth as the wizard took it, giving it an experimental wave and muttering, "lumos." The tip blinked dully, pale in the daytime. "Well, we know that's okay," Harry remarked brightly. "Nox." Blink, blink, nothing.
Ginny accepted the wand offered to her with a small thanks, then faced the building again. "Thought of a way to break in yet?"
"We remember I walked through the wall," Harry decided. "But we're not sure if you can do it." He thoughtfully unclasped the collar of his heavy cloak and shook it out once; it flew away as a dozen silent ravens, shedding shining jet feathers as they took to the skies. Now unburdened, he stood up, leaning against the cool cement of the wall and stretching. "We think you might as well try it," he told her.
Ginny ignored his sixth or seventh incorrect pronoun usage and agreed, "I'll try. Tell me what to do."
"I think there's a spell for this you can use," Harry mused. He reached deeper inside, pulling out the necessary words. "In vallum. Or something like that. Give it a wave and a try on this here wall." He rapped the target with his knuckles and grinned.
The redhead flicked the tip of the wand up to point at the solitary wall and repeated dutifully, "In vallum!" It quivered, ripples in the stone spreading outward from the center like a disturbed pool of water. In wonder, Ginny reached out tentatively and poked at the sudden liquid-seeming cement. Her finger disappeared into its surface, then came out again when she withdrew it.
Harry's grin seemed to be infectious, because now she had one on her face too. "How long does it last?"
"Five minutes tops. Plus we think it's undetectable from the other side."
"What if I end up in a room with Death Eaters?" Ginny wanted to know.
Harry frowned. "I'll go ahead of you. They'll be gone by the time you arrive." The glint in his eyes was chilling.
#