"So tell me, does anyone know the answer to my next question: What is the antidote for hucklicious tantrum?"

Ginny looked around her expectantly and, as usual, Hermione's hand shot up in the air. Grinning supportively at her, Ginny recited to herself Kipper fins as Hermione said boldly "To overcome the hucklicious tantrum, one should ingest kipper fins."

"Correct!" stated Professor Wylie, smiling at Hermione. "Now who can answer my next question: How would you know if a person is suffering from jambolitous tipitoes?"

I know this! Ginny thought to herself excitedly.

"Ginny, you know this! Tell him!" whispered Hermione under her breath.

Her palms started to sweat as she slowly raised her hand.

"Yes, Ginny?"

"Um, erm… A person suffering from jambolitous tipitoes has incredibly smelly feet and has to endure uncontrollable tapping of their feet."

"Correct! Marvelous, Ginny! Now, on to the next question…"

Sighing with relief, Ginny swiped her palms on her robes. Hermione smiled proudly down at her then turned back to pay attention to Professor Wylie. It was their final examinations and Professor Wylie's way of testing required their full attention. Ten points per answer and a bonus point if you answered his 'special question.' Hermione was dead-set on answering that question and was staring at him through narrowed eyes.

I passed. I actually freaking passed! I'm a mediwitch!

Ginny was so preoccupied with her success that she didn't notice her best friend stiffening suddenly. Mentally dancing a little jig, Ginny turned her attention back to Professor Wylie when she noticed a rather damp palm clutching her elbow tightly. Frowning, she turned to Hermione and at last noticed that her friend had gone deathly pale. As she reached out her hand to touch her friend's hand, she heard a sickening crash and then the room seemed to be falling down on them.

Lights, wood, bits of the ceiling, everything, it seemed, were falling down on her. Screams, the sound of running feet…the sound of falling bodies…

Suddenly, she was under the table and immobile. Shocked, she realized that Hermione had forced her under the table and cast a spell on her. In that moment, she had been hit by a rebounding spell.

Hermione! Ginny screamed in her head as she watched her best friend stumble slightly, clutching her chest.

Laughter. Low, cruel, sadistic laughter reached her panic-stricken ears. There was only one person who would laugh like that. With effort, Ginny looked at their assailants. She was right; there was no mistaking that white-blonde hair, that cocky grin, that swagger. And there were his two lug head cronies, flanking his sides as usual. Her blood began to boil as she felt the spell cast upon her weakening. She quieted her mind and with a huge effort, broke through the magic. She was free.

"No," she heard her best friend gasp softly, "hide."

"What did you say, you filth?"

"I said, oh, you're gonna die."

"Why you filthy, weak little twig!"

And with that, he pointed a steady arm towards her and started to speak the words that were so familiar to Ginny's ears. "Avada…"

"Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"

Two of Ginny's surprise spells hit the two dim witted sloths but the last one flew past the blonde tyrant as he skillfully deflected it.

"Ah, the Weasley girl. What a nice little bonus. Two for one, I must say I'm feeling rather lucky."

"Piss off you piece of shit! C'mon Hermione, c'mon!" And with that, Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm and started sprinting for her life. She ran past the overturned tables, pushed aside the smashed chairs, jumped over the fallen innocents… She had no time for tears, though; he was right on their trail. Ginny realized that Hermione was getting more difficult to pull along. She was clutching her chest and gasping desperately.

"C'mon Herm, just a little bit more. Once we get out of here, we'll be safe. Please stay with me; it's not that much further," she begged.

She heard impatient bangs from right behind her. He was blasting everything in his path in his effort to get to them. Fear clutched her heart as she realized she might not make it out of there. She sent out a silent prayer and sped up, trying to create as many blocks between them as possible without stopping. She stumbled, but picked herself up immediately and kept on going.

Light, she saw light. A sliver of pure sunshine. An opening. They were saved.

Jumping out of the tiny crack in the wall, she thought Privet Drive!

A breathless moment later, she was standing outside a normal suburban street with Hermione in tow.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey," Ginny gasped out as quietly as she could.

Immediately, the houses numbered 2 and 6 split apart to reveal house number 4. Fastening Hermione's arm around her neck, Ginny strode as quickly as she could to the front door which opened automatically as she reached it. Tiny hands reached out and caught Hermione as she slipped off Ginny's neck and nearly crashed to the floor. Ginny watched helplessly as a number of elves carried Hermione to the nearest room.

Other elves quickly got her a chair and several others ran off to notify the appropriate people. Soon, Ginny found herself surrounded by the remaining members of the Order. Bright pink hair, Tonks; long grizzly hair, Moody; round anxious face, Neville; and long blonde hair, Luna. She heard them all asking her specifics but all she could think of was Hermione's condition. She pushed past them and ran into the room she saw the elves carry her best friend to.

She watched as the mediwizard, the best of the best, leaned over Hermione, tapping her lightly with his wand. He reached where she was clutching, her chest, and then slowly sank onto his knees. Hermione looked him straight in the eye, as though searching for some answer. She saw something that Ginny could not, then closed her eyes slowly. She remained motionless.

Ginny let out a dry sob. The mediwizard turned and stood up. He walked to Ginny's side and guided her to a chair he conjured up. He ran his long fingers through his hair as though searching for the right words as Ginny continued staring at the motionless figure under the covers.

"She's alive, Ginny. But…I'm afraid…for not very much longer…she's…she's been infected."

"How much…"

"Two days, tops."

Ginny looked into the mist coloured eyes for comfort. She saw pain, and understanding; and then she saw nothing.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

She woke up to find a pair of piercing blue eyes staring at her. A shock of familiar red hair framed the worried eyes that were watching her as she slept.

"Hello Ron."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Where's Hermione?"

"She…she's downstairs…"

"Why aren't you with her?"

"I was with her just now but…but, I wanted to check up on you."

It was then Ginny noticed the tear trails running down her brother's freckled face. The innocence was gone now, like all of them, his eyes slighter colder, his face slightly tighter. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Pulling on her robe, she shuffled to the door. He jumped up and helped her to open the door. Thanking him softly, she shuffled down the hall, down the stairs and into Hermione's room.

There she lay, pale and so obviously in pain. There he was again, the miracle mediwizard who was powerless against the infection. The infection created by those he so desperately wanted to please before, the infection to destroy all muggle borns. He turned slightly away from his patient at the sound of the door then returned to his work at the glance of red hair.

"Is she alright?"

He jumped, spilling some of the potion he was concocting. Turning a delicate shade of pink, he looked her straight in the eye and shook his head slowly. She nodded curtly, unwilling to look into the eyes of such familiarity and walked to Hermione's side. She gently took Hermione's hand in hers and gave two short squeezes. She felt two weak squeezes in return.

It was then her tears began to fall. Her tears splashed upon their intertwined hands, wetting both of their palms. He looked up in surprise, and then backed away quietly as the other redhead took the ailing girl's hand in his. He watched as the blue-eyed hero kissed his lover's hand, her palm, her face. He looked on as the long haired redhead whispered goodbye to her best friend.

He witnessed the beauty of friendship taken to a whole new level, a level where letting go was a thing to celebrate about, a level where death would not separate their souls. And as he contemplated the possibilities of life, he watched the bittersweet beginning of death. He was not even aware of the tears falling from his eyes.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Ginny sat up with a start. She looked over at the hunched up figure crouched in a corner of the gloomy room. She saw the figure's shoulders shake slightly, a soft cry emitting from his lips. She got off the bed and walked to him, wrapping her arms around him in an attempt to comfort him. She understood how he felt. Who else would understand the pain of losing everything but she?

She looked into his misty eyes, drowning in the misery she saw in there. Pressing her palm against her lips to prevent her from crying out loud, Ginny stood abruptly and ran into the bathroom where she proceeded to strip and walk into the shower.

Filth. Get the filth off. Guilt. Get rid of the guilt. Pain. Wash away the pain.

She scrubbed at her skin, willing the pain to subside, willing the guilt of surviving to dissipate, willing the filth she felt on herself to be removed. She had tried this before. He always stopped her. But she knew that he won't now. He won't because he knew she would do it again. He won't because now, he understood how it felt to lose everything. He won't because he did it to himself.

Ginny watched her red hair falling limply by her sides, her skin torn open by her nails, her flesh exposed. Tears welled up in her eyes as the realization hit her.

No one's going to save me from the past.HErHH