A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters

word count: 1611

Warning: major character death, war

The sky was impossibly blue. That was Ginny's main thought as she sat on the steps to the flat. There was a slight breeze, cool but not cold. It should have been the perfect Spring day, but her chest felt

hallow, her head was spinning slightly form the pain potions she'd downed before walking over here.

Everything was too bright, too beautiful for the day. The birds sang happily, and if she squinted, Ginny knew she'd see the start of buds on the large trees over hanging the steps. She wasn't ready to face the inside. She wasn't ready for this, but she knew she'd never be ready for it.

She slipped her hand into her pocket, her fingers curling around the cold metal keys. She pulled them from her pocket, the beads on her key chain nearly sparkling in the early afternoon light. A wave of sadness crashed over her, nearly drowning her before she forced herself back to the present. The beads had once been part of Hermione's bag, the one she'd had with her during the war, the one that had once carried her whole life. Now nothing remained, save for these few beads Ginny had managed to save as the bag, and most of Hermione's possessions had been destroyed by ministry officials.

The war had gone wrong, horribly wrong. In the end, yes, they'd won, but at what cost? They'd disobeyed, broken laws, done illegal things, and in a sane world, they'd have been pardoned, labeled heroes, never mind the fact Ginny had still technically been a child. No, everything had gone wrong. Voldemort crumbled, falling to the ground, dead, and in that moment, the moment that should have been filled with celebrating, everything changed.

Ginny had no idea how far the corruption went, that maybe it had been there long before Lord Voldemort had returned. She wanted to believe the ministry officials that swarmed the castle were under the imperious curse, that they didn't know or want to do what they were doing. She knew it wasn't true though, they were corrupt on their own, taking things into their own hands. Kingsley were murdered in front of her, in front of everyone. His body fell and a hush fell over the crowded as everyone tried to understand what was happening.

It was as though the battle hadn't ended, as if they'd never won. Order members were arrested, yanked from their loved ones, taken before the dead had even been mourned, before the injured could be healed. Ginny didn't know how she'd done it, how she'd gotten away. One minute she was there, blood on her face, her heart pounding in her chest as Harry was handcuffed. He fought, screaming. His screams haunted Ginny's nightmares, even now. She'd wake up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding, her head spinning. Hermione snoring next to her.

Harry was dead. They both knew it. That day, the day they'd won, they'd lost as well. Ginny and Hermione had managed to escape, slipping out into the muggle world. This was their flat where they waited for the day the wizarding world would be safe again. Ginny finally rose to her feet and jammed the key into the door.

The door was still locked. They hadn't broken it down, just apparated in without permission. She wasn't sure what she expected. The flat was in shambles, chairs smashed, burn marks on the wall. She could tell Hermione had put up a fight. The question was though, had she even survived?

Ginny searched the flat, frantically hoping. Hermione wasn't here. Her body wasn't here. If they'd killed her, they'd have left it, a message for Ginny to find. They'd taken Hermione, locked her in Azkaban. Ginny knew they wouldn't hold her long, she'd be Kissed tonight if possible, and then, everything, everyone Ginny had ever loved would be gone. Her hands curled into fists. She couldn't lose Hermione.

Slowly a plan, part of a plan, filled her mind. She and Hermione had talked about what would happen if one of them were taken. Having a plan hadn't made Ginny feel better or safer. Now, now she needed to focus, remember it. It had been a suicide plan, one that if it didn't work, well, Ginny didn't care about that. If it didn't work, then she didn't want to live anyway.

Grabbing her and Hermione's wands from their secret hiding place, Ginny closed her eyes, apparating to the shore of the sea surrounding the inescapable prison. The plan had involved Hermione having her wand, but Ginny had it now. She needed to make this work. She took a deep breath of the horrible salty air.

She could see the prison silhouetted in the misty air. The dementors were back, guarding it, making it Hell on Earth. She needed to focus, clear her mind. She used her wand to shrink Hermione's, and then managed to make Hermione's work to shrink her own. That part was easy. The next part was harder, no matter how many times she'd practiced it, no matter how many times she'd done it in the safe control of the flat, nothing could compare to doing it now.

She sat down on the ground, crossing her legs. Deep breath in, exhale slowly, slower. The world started to grow around her, the air taking on a different feel. She released the last of air in her lungs and looked at herself. She'd done it, managed to transformation here. When Hermione had said they needed to become animagi, Ginny had thought she'd gone mad. Now, she was glad she'd endured the process.

She lifted her little hands, curling them around the wands. She'd never known otters had pouches beneath their arms that acted almost like pockets, but it was one of the many facts she'd learned about the creature she could become. She tucked the wands into the pockets and dove into the water. It was like ice against her fur.

Part of her mind was screaming DANGER!. She ignored it. Hermione was all she could think about. She swam the water, every move getting harder and harder as she tried to ignore the fact she was putting herself in danger, that this plan was most likely going to get her killed.

Finally she reached land. Popping out of the water, she took a good look, her first look, at the worst place in the world. No one noticed her, she was just another creature. Slowly she walked around, finding a small hole in the wall. She crawled inside.

Hermione, she needed to find Hermione. She sniffed the air, her little otter nose picking up the scent of another otter! Hermione! Ginny ran, following the scent. The dementors didn't affect her much in this form. Sirius had been right about that. If he wasn't dead, Ginny would have made a note to thank him.

She could still feel the despair in the air, the guilt at having survived this long, the pain of loss, the faces of everyone she'd lost in the war floating to the surface of her mind. She couldn't dwell on that now, she had more pressing matters. She continued to follow the scent and finally she found Hermione's cell, or at least a large metal door with the scent of otter wafting through the tiny barred window at the top.

Glancing around, Ginny pulled out the wands, setting them aside as she transformed back into herself. She grabbed the wands, almost smiling because they'd done several tests and the magic still worked even if the wands were tiny. The door was locked, but because they figured the prisoners either wouldn't have a wand, couldn't do magic without a wand, or were power dampened, a simple alohomora opened the door.

Hermione was curled in the corner, a ball of trembling brown fur. Ginny walked over, turning back into her otter self and nudged Hermione. Hermione raised her head, her eyes seeming to widen at seeing Ginny. Ginny nodded to the open door and they scurried out. As they ran, they could hear the other prisoners calling after them, begging them to help. Hermione paused, looking to Ginny.

Ginny nodded, once again turning human to unlock all the doors as she ran. She grabbed otter Hermione and they ran, joining the now growing crowd as she unlocked even more doors before she turned the corner where she'd slipped in. Setting Hermione down, now safe from the crowd which had gone straight towards the main doors.

Ginny handed her her wand. Hermione tucked it in her arm pocket. Ginny turned back into an otter and they slipped out the small hole, scrambled down the bank and dove into the water. They swam side by side, close to the bank, neither knowing where they were going. They swam until the day turned into night, until they were both too tired to move.

Finally, they climbed onto the land, huddling together as the temperature dropped with the setting sun. Hermione was the first to transform back to human. She held little otter Ginny close to her chest, letting her sleep. Ginny had done it, she'd saved her. Yes, the plan had been practiced and memorized, but Hermione had never dreamed they'd have to use it.

Ginny became human again about two hours after Hermione. Neither witch spoke as they ventured into the woods, being careful to cover their trail. They both knew they'd have to find a new place to live, new names to use, new everything because, even if they didn't want to admit it, the world would never be safe for them again.