She was on top of her game recently. More driven than ever. It was the measure of a quidditch talent to excel under pressure, and she was feeling the pressure extensively. There were three days left until the assault, three days until she would walk into that prison and claim revenge. It wasn't just about revenge though, It was about her entire future and where it would lead.

Just over a year ago she'd been happily married, something she never thought would change. But now it seemed very far away, and yet she still felt the echoes of it. Harry wasn't the same any more, and she didn't feel the same about him. She didn't hate the way things were going, but it was jarring. Sometimes when she woke up she still expected to find her patient and kind-to-a-fault husband lying there.

Alfred was nice. He was more book-smart and organised. The typical 10+ OWL student on a fast-track in the Auror department. They had similar features, but they couldn't be more different. Harry was and always had been more instinctual. He had a knack for finding just what was missing, for noticing the inconspicuous. It was no wonder that with anything but perfect morals he was standing at the top of the Ministry. He was even helping her, selfish as his help was. So there was still some part of Harry in there, just more… unburdened.

He had asked her to talk. She had an inkling what it was about. He came to the Harpies pitch, which was unusual these days. He was chatting outside on the pitch with Kiera about the season. They knew each other, another echo of their marriage. He'd always been liked by the Harpies, and since she told them repeatedly that they were on good terms, they didn't extend the grudge of a messy divorce to him.

She walked up to them, her damp hair glinting red from the twilight. He turned to her and smiled like a divorcee only could, broadcasting apparent awkwardness to the rest of the world.

"Hello, Ginny," he said.

Despite feigning awkwardness, there was a commanding aura about him. He was becoming more than just the Auror, the habitual hero, the ace up Magical Britain's sleeve. He was building something of his own, and she had positioned herself to be part of it. Thinking about it sent a shiver down her spine, and it gave her some clarity in the midst of all the chaos.

"Hey," she answered, "did you want to go somewhere?"

"We don't have to if you don't want to," he answered.

Kiera got the hint that they wanted to be alone and said her goodbyes. Seeing her leave the pitch, Ginny went towards the locker room without another word. Harry followed. Not so long ago, they would have done something very different than talk following a visit to the Harpies locker room. Definitely not today, not ever again in fact.

She closed her open locker. "You're worried I'll mess up, is that it?"

"Not really," he answered, rubbing his nose in a vestigial gesture. "I just want to make sure you're not going into this without being prepared. I know you can handle yourself in a fight, as much as anyone who's not part of the Auror department. But Fiendfyre… you understand what I mean? You're not exactly the Dark Lady Weasley, or you've been very good at hiding it."

She fumbled with the straps of her bag. "I guess I never told you," she said softly. "Imagine that, Ginny formerly Potter with secrets. It's kind of personal."

"Really all I want to know is that you're not going to burn yourself to a crisp like little Crabbe Junior did."

"Worried?" she tried in a seductive tone, meeting only the thick wall of ice that was Harry's new ego. "God, you're no fun at all."

"Sorry about that," he said with a grin. "Just put my mind at ease. Tell me we're going in with five and back out with five. Whatever I think or feel, I do want that."

She hesitated to open up. This was a litmus test for her future, the last doubt that when she would be committed, he would also be committed. It was too late to turn back.

"Fine," she sighed, and sat down next to her bag, leaning back against the lockers. Harry came to sit across from her.

"Remember after the battle," she started, letting her thoughts drift to the memory. "You left me and I don't think you even regretted it back then. Always doing the right thing. You've always been a bit self-centred when it comes to those things. Family was no help. So the day you went away with Kingsley, I took my broom and flew away into the highlands.

"I was so angry back then. I knew if someone said something to me, even if they meant well, I might just lash back at them or hex them whoever they were. I just couldn't stand being in that castle and have anyone try to calm my anger. I wanted it to be free. I'd have let you, but you went away. I stopped at the edge of a forest, in the middle of nowhere. I must have remembered the spell from when we made those trips to the restricted section that year… or maybe I just knew how. Maybe all spells already exist and are just remembered by whoever discovers them.

"It was like my anger left through the tip of my wand and consumed the innocent patch of forest. I just watched the flames… so much red and yellow… glints of black and violet. The heat probably should've burned me, but it didn't. I started to think what would happen if it did, if you'd be very sad, how annoyingly my mother would cry and the helpless grief they would feel. It felt… empowering. But I was really angry at Malfoy and his father, and their disgusting little Death Eater friends who had crawled back into their holes the moment their leader died. I wanted to kill and torment every single one of them…"

Harry looked back at her intently, and there was not a single hint of judgement or compassionate worry in his eyes. "Maybe it's a good thing after all that you can't burn the entirety of the Malfoys in one go. I think you can do it, and I'll let you do it."

"Just like that?" she said, a little surprised.

"Just like that." Harry stood up. "This is going to change things," he sighed. "I just don't know how."

Just when she thought she would be left with her thoughts, he turned around. "Say, are you sure nobody died in that fire? Muggles go hiking all the time in the forest."

Her eyes widened. She'd never really thought about that. "I don't know."

"All right then. Three days. Let's get this done and the Harpies might just win the cup this year."

#

Whether the Harpies would win the cup was as much of a mystery as anything else in her life. They were good, but the Magpies had taken their game to top level and training reflected how nervous they all were. But before the stadium would flood with fans at the match of the season, one Harpy would make a flight of a different kind.

She apparated to the lone hills where once the Potter Manor stood. She was the first one there, more than twenty minutes early. The weight of what was about to happen fully gripped her. The red twilight gave the valley an eerie look, illuminating the juniper and rosemary with an incandescent tint. A wailing wind passed through the brush and blades of grass, whistling towards the east.

She paced, and loosened her wrists, switching her broom from one hand to the other. Her own subconscious formed questions, coming in the form of Fred's disembodied voice.

So, you're really doing this sis? All for a good helping of vengeance on my behalf?

She shook her head, throwing off the doubt that was building. She had only ever killed anyone that one time, a lashing out of anger and pain. But what if she couldn't do it?

Then you'd be in a heap of trouble, Gin. Maybe Harry'll do to you what he did to Ron.

No. She would do it. She knew what this was, an agreement. She'd asked for this, to be included in the new turn of Harry's life. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the pollen and cold fragrant air. She had fought Death Eaters before, she'd held on for months under their draconian and unfair tenure at Hogwarts. This was her chance to get even, to make things right.

So you've made up your mind, sis?

"Yes," she whispered. Fred's voiced concerns left her and the wind stilled with a last rustle.

Three pops announced the arrival of others. She frowned to see Harry and Hermione accompanied by Mathilda. Harry answered her questioning look.

"Change of plans. Mathilda is coming with us."

Mere seconds after, Alfred appeared. They were all wearing dark clothes, to hide their approach to the prison. Harry clapped Alfred on the back and they congregated not far from the hatch leading to the basement.

"Still ten minutes before we're supposed to meet them," Harry said. "Let's not dawdle, we still have to divide up the labour."

Hermione produced a large copper gear from her bag and handed it to Harry. They all held on and with a swish of magic, were transported hundreds of miles away on a rocky outcropping off the eastern coast. It wasn't quite an island, but large enough for ten people to meet on comfortably. The waves gently lapped at the stones, surrounding them with a salty mist.

"We'll make final plans once they get here. All that's settled is that Ginny will take care of the destruction of the prison, which leaves us to take care of the guards and patrols."

"No survivors," Mathilda added. Harry nodded.

"The Azkaban jailors, they're not bad people…" Alfred said.

"Everyone knows that," Harry said. "Why mention it now? You could have sat this one out, if it was too much for you."

"I'll do it. I just wanted it to be said."

"Your concern is noted."

She had talked at length with Alfred. She wasn't comfortable telling him all her doubts and fears, but he knew this wasn't an easy thing for her. There was an uncomfortable silence in the air. Between her and Al, and the three others there was a difference.

A few paces from where they were standing, five more popped into existence. The Council also were draped in dark clothes, save for Dahlia, whose robes were still ornamented with brass.

"There are our cousins from a distant land!" Marlene said, her arms in the air.

"A pleasure to meet you again," Harry said.

Dietrich stepped forward and shook Harry's hand with a smile. "So it is. So it is. Nothing like a good raid between friends, is there? And—Ah!—I was under the impression young Mathilda would not be joining us."

"Changed my mind," she said, shaking Dietrich's hand.

"The more, the merrier."

His smile turned more gentle as he came face to face with Ginny. "And the star of the show will be you as I understand it?"

"As usual," she grinned.

Dietrich laughed merrily. "Too right!"

Dahlia seemed very glad that Mathilda had joined, she was just as interested in her as before, chatting as the others reacquainted themselves. They assembled in a circle on the plateau.

"Let's figure out how this will go then," Ferdinand said, his permanent frown giving him a dangerous look.

"We'll set out north-east, flying low," Harry started. "There are twenty-three guards on brooms patrolling, two groups of eight and one group of seven. I can pick them out before they ever see us. Once we get there, we'll have to deal with the guards inside. There's a main entrance, under an archway, and a back entrance beneath the rocks where ships can dock. We'll have to guard both of them while a group goes inside and gets Ginny where she needs to be."

"I can take care of the broom patrols," Dahlia said, lifting her hand. "As long as I know where they are."

"They'll probably be split up. So we need three groups."

The divisions were decided. Dahlia, Andros and Mathilda. Marlene, Ginny, Dietrich and Alfred. Ferdinand would accompany Harry and Hermione.

"Our group will guard the main entrance," Ferdinand said. "Dahlia's group will take the rear exit. The rest can go in with Ginny."

"Sound plan," Dietrich said.

Harry and the rest nodded in approval. "Any final preparations? We leave when the sun sets."

Dahlia paced around and started to do voice exercises.

"La, la, la, la, LA, laaaaa! La, la, la, la, LA, laaaaa…"

She had a marvellous voice, turning quite a few heads.

Harry an Hermione checked their brooms, and Ginny did the same with Alfred.

"Ready?" he asked, inspecting the bristles of her Firebolt Exigo.

"I am."

"I'll be there if anything happens."

"I know," she said, watching him aimlessly look for any imperfections on her impeccably maintained broom. "Alfred, this is something I need to do by myself. I mean in the end. This has to be me."

"Why does it?"

"It just has to."

"Okay," he said, standing up. He put his hands on her shoulders. "Just make it back in one piece."

"I will," she said, and smiled. "You too, by the way."

He smiled and looked back to Harry, who was standing steadfast softly talking with Hermione and Ferdinand. Marlene came up to them, with Dietrich close by.

"Hey there!" she said. "I can make things quite easy for us once we get inside. We're supposed to get you to the lower levels right?"

"Right."

"Marlene is very good at using others for her own benefit," Dietrich said. "It might be best to have a guard show us there."

"You mean the Imperius curse?" Alfred asked.

"Something like that," Marlene answered. "I have this potion I'd like to test and this seems like the perfect opportunity."

Ginny stared deadpan at Marlene, and looked back to the others. Andros was stretching his back with his broom, talking about the South American Quidditch League with Dahlia and Mathilda. They all seemed so relaxed, like this was nothing, and Marlene saw this as a good time to test potions. Alfred and her were the only ones who weren't so carefree, or deranged.

"Sure," she bumbled. "Uhm, yes. As long as we get to the lower levels it's fine."

"Wonderful! Oh, look, the sun is almost under."

They faced north-east and mounted their brooms.

"It's half an hour of flight," Harry said. "I'll tell you when we get close. Stay together."

They took off in the last rays of sunlight. It was still clear enough for her to see how each of them handled themselves. Harry was making sure Hermione stayed on course. Andros yawned, flying hands-off. Dietrich guided the handle of his broom with a light touch. This group of people was something, and she was part of that.

Night fell and they flew by the stars, only seeing vague dark shapes beside them. No one should see them approach like this. It was almost unfair. She let her foot catch the tip of a wave occasionally, splashing about more salty mist.

"There," Harry said quietly, "a few miles now."

Against the firmament near the horizon, there was a dark shape obscuring the tiniest amount of stars. Azkaban, the winding fortress with its towers and bowels beneath. Her heart beat faster with every passing second.

"I see them," Harry said again, and flew up to Dahlia, although Ginny could only tell because they hadn't switched since they flew out. "Follow my hand, that way. Eight in an arrow formation." He then moved to Alfred. "Seven straight ahead, a little upwards, moving away." He then went back to Ferdinand and Hermione. "You follow. On three scatter. One. Two. Three."

Alfred lead the four of them, going in the direction Harry had pointed. A few seconds later they saw the dim light of a wand, the group of guards. Dietrich flew beside Alfred.

"Quickly, yes? I'll take the front."

"Aye," Alfred responded.

They neared the light, getting brighter and brighter. It veered left, and they followed. Ginny readied her wand. Just as she thought she could make out the outline of a person on a broom, a singing voice, soft like honey sounded from her left side. She turned, and recognised it as Dahlia's voice. Then a whistling sound, like the firing of fireworks, and a glint of metal in the darkness of the sky.

When she turned back forward, Dietrich had already left, taking the front of the patrol's formation. Alfred veered right in a pincer movement and she followed. She felt like she wasn't supposed to be here. A chorus of cries from the front of the pack, screaming in agony as she saw something rend the shapes. "Attack, we're being atta—gaaag!"

A blasting curse scattered one of them near the rear. In the distance she heard more cries. She held up her wand, ready to fling a curse at one of the shapes. To her left again far away, there was a glint of bright golden light, and she lost her target. It was gone. She couldn't see any more of the dark human-sized shapes.

Dietrich spoke. "All done! Good show, young man," he said to Alfred. "Looks like the others are finished as well, let's regroup."

In a matter of seconds they had taken out two dozen men and she hadn't even fired a single spell. She felt frustrated as she followed Dietrich back to the others.

"Good flying," Harry said.

"You're not too bad yourself," Ferdinand answered. "And that was an interesting one, Hermione, you'll have to teach me that some time."

"With our feet on the ground, yes, that would be fine."

They all laughed.

The fortress appeared, dark and ominous against the starlight. Torches shone at the entrance, to the left and around.

"Leave one for me, Ferd," Marlene said.

"Don't call me Ferd!" Ferdinand said, speeding away towards the entrance.

Dahlia's group went off towards the lower end of the island.

"Don't be too nervous," Marlene said to her. "We're not Aurors or warriors like the rest of them, and you have the most important job."

"Thanks," she said, her throat feeling dry.

A few minutes later, sparks shot from the entrance's side. They flew down and landed beside the great stone arch of Azkaban's entrance. Above it in large letters was written the often unmentioned phrase that every convict saw as they were put away. 'THEY SUFFER - WE FORGET'

Beside the door was a man in a black Azkaban Guard uniform, slumped unconscious against the wall. Marlene put her broom aside and stepped forward, standing in front of the heavy iron gate blocking the entrance.

"We're not going through the back?" Ferdinand asked.

"It's a maze," Harry answered. "You'd sooner get lost than get where you want to."

"You can open it?" Hermione asked.

"Hm, hm," she hummed, inspecting it. "Hm, hm. Interesting. Ah! Tut tut, cutting corners? Well, it is government work."

She brandished her wand and shot a spell towards the deeply embedded hinges. The metal creaked and after a few seconds, sixteen nails fell out of the hinge. She repeated it five more times for every hinge on the right side. Every time, the nails simply fell out of them.

"Everyone stand back," she said, moving backwards.

The door lurched, and painfully slowly swung towards the ground. Dietrich moved his wand and the shimmer of a large cushioning spell appeared. The door was caught by it, making no sound.

"Thank you Dietrich," Marlene said as she moved over to the unconscious guard.

"You made that look easy," Alfred said.

"To me, it was," she answered. "Shall we go in? This young man will guide us once I get him sorted."

"I'm ready," Ginny said.

With a spell from Ferdinand, the man woke up groggily. Marlene knelt beside him and handed him a dark glass vial. "Drink this, you'll feel better."

The man groaned and took the vial, drinking from it and making a face of disgust.

"Sorry about the taste," Marlene said. "Everyone, step back again, I'm not one hundred percent certain that this will work."

The wizard had a tired look. He started to retch, holding his stomach and bending forward. He looked green and his eyes were redder the more he retched and coughed. He then let out an agonising wail. "Uuuuuuuughn!"

His eyes started to pop out of his skull and his left arm bulged. The sleeve of his robes tore, revealing putrid flesh bloated with purple corruption. He shouted a muffled scream. His face was a mixture of red and green, darkening by the second. Ginny startled as one of his eyes popped out of its socket, only bound by nerve and muscle.

"Merlin," she groaned.

The transformation continued, his back gaining a nauseating hump and his shins bending into a crescent. Whatever he was turning into, Ginny didn't know, she had never seen something so revolting in her life. She thought it might be some werebeast transformation, but that thought was quickly wiped away when she saw the man's teeth rot in his mouth to be replaced by a glinting row of metallic saw-like protrusions. His body was uneven and wafted a smell of death. His limbs were rotten in several places, and yet he stood up, his remaining eye landing on Marlene, who smiled happily.

"Success!" she exclaimed. "Who's a good little pet?"

"Guuurgh!" the creature groaned.

"Now, take us to the lower levels. If you see any of your colleagues, rip them to shreds." She turned to the others in the group. "Let's go."

Ginny faintly nodded and walked beside Marlene, Alfred and Dietrich.

"Good luck," she heard Harry say, but she was too horrorstruck by what Marlene had created to reply.

Slowly they went forwards into the fortress, the monolithic walls of the entrance guiding them deeper. They arrived at a bend to the right and the creature, which had so far been shambling along on its mangled legs, moved ahead at an unnatural speed. There was the start of a scream, ending in a gurgling death-rattle. As they turned the corner they saw the creature standing over a guard, its slack jaw full of saw-teeth red with gore. They stepped past the corpse of the guard, which was missing most of its neck.

She had seen dead bodies before, but never really thought much on how horrific the sight of a mangled corpse was. It was something terrifyingly obscene. And now she was walking a path that would lead her right into that abyss of death and mutilation.

"You get used to it," Dietrich said. "It's like seeing someone naked, shocking at first, but it's just a hump you need to get over."

Marlene giggled.

She concentrated, putting the thought of death and decay out of her mind, remembering every turn they took, every staircase they went into. They met three more guards. Two in a pair doing rounds who were cut to pieces before they could even realise what was happening and one who shot a stunner towards the shambling horror in vain before being decapitated. Finally, they arrived to the stairwell leading to the holding area. It looked like a descent into the depths of the earth, a winding great staircase going deeper and deeper. The lower levels were somewhere down there.

"We'll get to see your enemies now?" Marlene asked. "They're all down there, I've heard."

"They are," Alfred said. "Harry put a good number of them in there after the war, together with Mathilda."

"Let's go," Ginny said.

She was thinking of all the faces she would see down there. Lucius Malfoy. Fenrir Greyback. Amicus Carrow. She'd wanted to hurt them for a long time. Now she had the chance to, and yet, she was still nervous. There was a big difference between the fantasy of murder, and actual murder. They descended the stairs.

She was left once again frustrated when she realised that the cell blocks were embedded into the walls of the staircase. A set of bars led to hallways filled with cells out of sight. The path wound ever downwards. They walked for something like fifteen minutes before they saw the lower levels. They stood on a platform above a final stretch of staircase leading to the bottom of the pit.

"Here ends our escort, Ms. Weasley," Dietrich said.

Marlene guided the creature towards the edge of the staircase and pointed her wand at it. She unceremoniously fired a cutting curse at it, splitting it in half.

"You can go ahead," Alfred said, and Dietrich nodded, walking back up with Marlene.

They were left alone in the echoing shaft. Ginny turned her wand in her hand and gripped her broom tightly, not looking at Alfred.

"You don't have to do this," he said. "I could, or we could get someone else. Merlin knows they wouldn't mind doing it."

She laughed weakly, looking at her wand. "I've been feeling useless all this time. Not just coming out here, but before. All the terrible things that happened to us… my brother… I felt so powerless, but Harry was there to make things right, I thought."

"And now?"

Her wand looked very solid, its venerable wood radiating strength. She turned to him, and felt certainty for the first time since Harry had made the proposal to burn down Azkaban. "It has to be me. For everyone who they made suffer. For my brothers… but mostly for myself. I need to do this. I need to end this." She knew, looking into his eyes, why she had held on to Alfred. It wasn't because Harry made her, it was because out of all the misfits of their group, he was the one who could be her conscience.

She put an arm around him and kissed him. "You go ahead," she said. "I'll see you in a bit. Promise."

"All right," he said with a smile. "We'll get some Italian at that muggle place afterwards, if you want."

She laughed and watched him walk up, his form shrinking as he went higher. She leaned against her broom and listened. The air was dead still, humid and old. She could hear movements, cries, resonating along the shaft, down to her ears. The prisoners of Azkaban would never see her face, and she'd never see theirs, but they would all die at her hand. She readied her wand. Enough time had passed that they would all be outside.

"Who's there!" a voice shouted from higher up.

"I know you're here! Who's there! Answer me!"

It sounded harsh and desperate at the same time. She considered answering, but she had nothing to say. None of them deserved an answer for why she was doing this. She would just do it.

She pointed her wand below, at the base of the staircase.

"I haven't gotten food in a week!" the voice shouted. It was more animal than man, rough and pleading. "Get me some food please!"

She ignored the voice and felt a burning rage envelop her. She would burn them down, she would cremate their bones until there was nothing left.

"This isn't right!" the voice said.

"Inflamma Rapacio," she whispered.

#

They stood on a low hill overlooking the prison. Alfred had rejoined them and once they made sure no guards were coming out any more, they retreated, as not to be caught unaware by a gout of living flame when it would come. It should come soon. He had faith. He'd seen that Ginny had it in her, deep down, that she could do this one thing. He really wanted it. This was the culmination of all his efforts to include Ginny in this. He badly wanted to be right.

It felt like he'd been waiting for hours, but he didn't speak. It surprised him, a low rumble from beneath the earth, then a hiss like a thousand tormented voices. The blast was startling. One of the farther towers of the fortress burst open and a bright, yellow flame in the shape of an arm burst out, illuminating the island in a glow of solar fire.

"Ginny…" he whispered. What the hell was she doing? Did she really kill herself in a blaze of her own making? All the hard work, all the manoeuvring, appeasing, for nothing? He felt anger rise up in the pit of his stomach as he watched the fire melt the rock of the prison.

With great relief, he saw a tiny dot of a person dart out of the main entrance. He followed it, as it traced a loop around the island, and back to them. It was Ginny, alive, out of breath, yet looking calm. Alfred ran up to her.

"Hey! Gave us a scare."

"Sorry," she said, dismounting her broom. "It's done."

She looked back to him briefly with the hint of a grin on her face. Finally, Harry allowed himself to breathe out.

"Oooh!" Dahlia cried, looking at the fire.

The fire, taking the form of some beast was gnawing at the structure's entrance, turning its stone glowing red. From the lower pits of Azkaban, hellish light shone through to the heavens, giving the impression that a star was burning inside of it. The fire roared and sputtered angrily, tearing at whatever was near.

"How long does it burn?" Andros asked with a look of surprise.

"However long it wants to," Ginny answered.

They stood there for some time, watching the fire. It kept trying to find new things to burn, reaching in and out of the prison. Finally, with a very angry bang, the fire imploded on itself, dragging the island's rock into its infernal depths. The light lowered to an ambient glow.

There was one last thing he wanted to do. Mathilda had just floo'd into Grimmauld Place unexpectedly and asked him if she could come. He'd said yes, of course, but he wondered how that had worked out for her.

"Be right back," he whispered into Hermione's ear, kissing her on the cheek.

"Mathilda," he said, "let's loop around one more time before we go."

She nodded and mounted her broom, following him in a path around the smouldering pile of rubble.

"So…" he said.

Mathilda stopped her broom, resting her head on her shoulder to look at what remained. "It's gone," she said.

He'd only heard her voice like that once in his life, long ago on this very same island. She slowly turned to him, tears in her eyes. "I'm glad I came. I'm so bloody glad I came, Harry. You… You don't know how good it is to see it gone. All this time…"

He drifted closer and put an arm around her. She shook with every heave and tear. He'd never seen her so open or vulnerable.

"It's really fucking gone, Harry… Fuck this place." She sniffed and smiled at him. "Fuck this place!" she shouted into the night.

"Yeah," Harry said, looking back. "Fuck this place."

Mathilda went back after a few minutes. Harry went closer and scanned the island for any subtle glints of life. He landed on the shore. The whole island was steaming with heat. Even the sea behind him bubbled. Crabs in the shallows were retreating from the island. This place might have once been hellish, but now it was truly deserving of the name.

"Fuck this place, indeed."

#

AN: Props to Dan Abnett for getting me out of my slump (with his writing). Sorry for the delay.