A/N: HAHAHA! YOU'RE ALL SO STUPID!! You REALLY thought that I was going to KILL Ginny! Hahaha. Sorry. It's not nice to laugh at people's mistakes. –grin- Thank you so much to reviewers! I love you all. Sorry it took me a while to update.
Disclaimer: I am not lucky enough to be as smart enough as to invent these characters myself. They are not mine. Too bad. –pout-
The Stone Speaks
Chapter Forty-Five: Join The Fun
GINNY
A blaze hot enough to challenge the earth's core was thundering up from the very pits of the dragon's belly, creating fire, and then it poured from its throat. It was almost like liquid, pouring over a flame-proof tongue, and curling past hard, dark lips, and flooding over disconcertingly delicate-looking ivory teeth, yet not damaging or chipping or even burning the fragile white.
And then the fire was upon her.
…
Ginny didn't have time to scream. Hell, she didn't have time to make her eyes widen slightly as she thought, Crap. The fire simply rushed out of the Hebridean Black's mouth, into the fire, and then at her.
I wonder what being burnt alive feels like, Ginny wondered. Actually, it all happened so fast that she pondered this thought after she was already safe. Then, finally, her eyes widened slightly and she thought, What the hell? I'm alive!
The necklace, ever present, hanging against her collarbone, was palpitating and throbbing rhythmically with Ginny's heartbeat, and near-invisible waves of light were pulsing outwards from her fingertips – she had flung her arms in front of her face as instinctive protection, before the dragon had even opened its mouth. Flames were still rolling past her… but they first circumnavigated a great, invisible orb of protection that was formed around the terrified and puzzled redhead.
"What the hell…" breathed Ginny. Her voice rang and echoed distantly, sending a shiver crawling down her spine. She looked down at the still-pulsating amulet that leant against the dark cloth of her shirt. She pointed a finger at it. "That is the second time you've done that now, mister," she said, accusatory. Then, she tilted her head to the side. "Thanks."
Well, now that we've all agreed that the necklace is quite helpful after all, can we move on? We're stuck in a giant flame-covered bubble, approximately seventy feet high into the air, on the back of a rather peeved dragon.
Fair point.
The fire had faltered long ago, and Ginny reached up to the black onyx triangle, camouflaged against her dark clothing. The protective sphere flickered and dissolved.
The Hebridean Black blinked, bewildered. What the devil was that girl doing? She was supposed to be incinerated – right? It let loose another impressive snarl. Before the roaring of its stomach calling upon fire could even begin, Ginny was on her feet, scrambling clumsily across the dragon's scales, slipping and sliding and generally causing more self-harm than progress.
She quite cleverly placed one fall; fire rushed over her head, singing a few stray tresses and removing hairs from the back of her neck. The roaring flame tailed off, and Ginny staggered back to her feet.
Only a few feet left.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
The Black roared and dipped into a barrel roll before plummeting vertically downwards. Ginny yelped, but before it could transform into a fully-fledged scream, she was falling forwards. Then the dragon shot sharply upwards, and the sixteen-year-old thumped down, skidded a little, and then came to a sharp halt.
What the- Ginny had landed on the Hebridean Black's large, muscular shoulder. Confused, the dragon was now screeching, twisting and turning violently to find her, so that Ginny had to cling desperately to its neck in order to stay put. She grabbed onto a spine that was jutting out from the side of the dragon's neck, and wrapped one arm around it, before sitting behind another spike.
"Oh, God, this had better work," she muttered, and drew Draco's wand. If this doesn't work, I just wasted twenty minutes getting myself killed. "IMPERIO!"
White light flashed, blinding her eyes. Then, with a harsh dragonish scream, the Hebridean Black froze.
And fell.
"CRAP!" she yelled. "NO! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!"
It was plummeting through the air, fast, frozen as if it had seen a Basilisk. The ground was rushing up to meet them, fast, fast, faster than fast… Ohhhh God I'm gonna die.
"Er – DRAGON!" she bellowed. "UM – FLY!"
Nothing.
The ground was deadly close… Ginny squeezed her eyes tightly shut. FLY, she screamed inside her head, pushing her thoughts towards the Hebridean Black. FLY!
The ground was too close – and then the dragon stretched its wings. They caught air, and it swooped upwards again, "YES!" whooped Ginny, punching the air. "Come on, dragony!" She held tighter to the two spikes on the Black's anatomy to hold herself in place. Now kill the Death Eaters.
The Black let loose a roar that chilled Ginny's blood, but this time it wasn't at her. It was at those who used to be its allies. Then it plunged down again, claws curling into lethal hooks. A terrifying scream tore from its hard, black lips, and it snorted fire as it sped to earth.
Claws – ripping – tearing – blood. Teeth – gnawing – pulling – blood. Tail – crushing – destroying – blood. It was making Ginny faint but she stared determinedly down, attacking each enemy in her mind, and then the dragon followed through. They landed, crushing several enemies as they did so, and then the Black was more capable of crushing and eating and setting everything alight.
Blood spurted high in the air, trickling down the dragon's neck and matting Ginny's hair. Determinedly ignoring this, she focused on the nearest Death Eater. The dragon pushed off into the air, leg muscles tightened like springs and then firing away. With a cry of surprise, Ginny slid backwards and tumbled down the Hebridean Black's shoulder.
Feeling her skin peel from her back, she skidded down, shrieking hysterically. I can't see! Agh – I hate going down slides backwards. WHY SHOULD A DRAGON BE ANY DIFFERENT? Unconsiously, she drew out of the dragon's mind; it was now free to do its own will.
"Catch me!" she screeched.
The dragon did not obey; on the contrary, it realized where she was, and made a beeline for her – and a very angry bee it was. The Death Eater that Ginny had planned on killing spun.
Macbain.
His dark eyes widened, and he raised his wand. "IMPERIO!" he hollered.
Oh, great. Now, instead of being an angry dragon, its an angry dragon in the control of an angry Death Eater. Wow, someone up there must hate me.
However, the dragon's scales were immune to absorbing spells, and the curse reflected away and hit a rock. The rock did not look pleased, but as it was a rock, it couldn't make any move towards fulfilling its desires.
"STUPEFY!" Macbain attempted, waving his wand. The dragon was not knocked unconscious, but it was stunned, and it reeled backwards.
What the hell is he doing?
Then, more astonishing than trying to knock out his own army's dragon, Macbain ran forwards, and spread his arms out, after quickly stowing his wand. With one final shriek for good measure, Ginny collapsed into his arms. Macbain grunted and yelped with pain, but after a moment's staggering, he regained his balance, and looked down at her.
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with horror and bewilderment.
"Savin' ye," grunted Macbain. "Unless, 'course, ye'd prefer I didn'." He raised one bushy black eyebrow.
Ginny opened and closed her mouth, like a fish, as he set her down on the ground. "But-" she stammered. "You're a Death Eater – why – you're supposed to… kill me. Not save me." Hazel narrowed suspiciously. "Why aren't you hurting me?"
Macbain eyed her for a second. Then he said simply, "I made a promise to someone." Seeing the blank look on Ginny's face, he sighed. "Never mind," he said, and then, clumsily patting her shoulder, said, "Be careful, kid."
She watched him walk away, and then, frowning about his 'promise', turned her back on him. She had a war to fight.
So far, Ginny knew that Avery was dead, and Macbain seemed to be on the good side. Dolohov was bound and unconscious. Snape was on the good side, and she had seen Bellatrix Lestrange's body lying in the mud some distance away (she mentally congratulated whoever had slain the Death Eater 'scarlet woman', as Ron would say).
But, oddly enough, Lord Voldemort was not in the fight. Where was he? It wasn't like him to miss out on all the fun.
At the very instant that Ginny thought those words, there was an explosion of green light and thick black smoke, swirling and spinning on the ground. The Hogwarts side generally screeched and ran away; the Death Eaters all instantly formed a rough circle (more of a jelly-bean shape, it had to be said) around the light and smoke, dropping to their knees and donning their masks.
Ginny vaguely noticed that Macbain was not among them.
The light was so bright and so toxic-green that it burned the image onto Ginny's eyes, hurting her brain and making her heartbeat throb faster and faster. Then, gradually, it faded down to nothingness.
And there was Lord Voldemort.
Her breath caught. She hadn't seen the Dark Lord properly since she was fourteen, trapped in the Department of Mysteries with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna and Neville – with Draco in the Shrieking Shack, the epitome of evil had been shrouded by darkness, and she had been too blinded by fear to take in what she was seeing.
He hadn't changed. Tall, lean. Smooth white head. Long, cold fingers. Ragged, dirty fingernails. Snake-like nostrils. Thin, narrow, glowing crimson slits of eyes. A thin, hard mouth. Flowing black robes, so flimsy that it seemed as if he was standing in a cloud. Scanning the area smugly, taking in the dead bodies with glee. He looked around at his Death Eaters; counted them.
Six were missing.
Ginny counted the heads as well. Mulciber wasn't there. Lord Voldemort glared, noticing the same thing. Then he noticed the numbers of the Hogwarts army – few. And he threw back his head and let out a cold, high, cruel laugh that resounded through the air, chilling everyone's blood.
"Well, well, well!" he crooned. "Look what I've been missing out on… I guess I'd better join in the fun!" He lifted his white-bone wand high, equipped with the phoenix-feather brother of Harry's own wand, and cried out.
Professor Flitwick fell.
"NO!" cried Ginny, unable to contain herself.
Her favourite teacher. Dead. Murdered, in half a second.
The fight was officially on.
A/N: Omg!! You know, I think, just to annoy, I'm going to let Ginny burn horrifically, die in Draco's arms, and then the Dark Lord triumph. Then I'll do a sequel all about Draco's pain. Yeah, that sounds cool. Ginny-fans, say your goodbyes. UNLESS, of course… I COULD possibly be swayed, by, say, I don't know, a review? Oo Why don't you try? xD
By the way, the thing with Snape is that ol' Snapey saw himself in Draco – an unwanted, abused, Slytherin reject of the social world, who fell in love with the beautiful redhead, only to have her stolen away by Potter and then killed.