"When it is dark enough, you see the stars." - Charles Austin Beard

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The man ran down the alley, crying out hysterically for help. As his feet splashed in the puddles, the man ran for his life towards the other entrance of the alley, only too late realizing his mistake.

There was no other entrance.

Looking around desperately for an exit, the man quickly spun on his heel and pressed his back against the brick wall behind him as he stared in fear at the shadowed figure at the alley entrance.

"N-No! Please! I'll do anything!" he cried pathetically as he raised his hands intuitively in futile protection.

"Redemption," whispered the figure in a feminine voice as she took a step forward.

"P-Please!" repeated the man.

"Power," the woman then said, her left foot absently stepping into a puddle, making it splash slightly.

"I-I'll give you anything! Money!"

Splash. The white cloak was spattered by a few droplets of water.

"Glory."

"L-Lands!"

"My God has it all," the woman recited, as if chanting a deeply religious mantra. Her steps came closer now, the pitter patter of the rain softly hitting her cloak. The man had neve beforer seen anything so utterly terrifying in his life.

"Slaves!"

Almost immediately, the man felt himself be pressed painfully against the wall. Opening his eyes, which had shut due to the reflex action to the pain, he saw that she'd raised an open palm towards him.

"Let all those who love God, all those who fear him…"

"P-Please! I beg of you!"

Suddenly, the woman, who had been meters away, now had her face close enough that he could see under the hood. Fiery red hair billowed slightly inside the white hood, and chocolate-coloured eyes were staring at him neutrally. A pale, freckled, and yet, beautiful face completed the visage of his killer. Despite himself, the man felt enormous attraction to the woman who was about to end his life.

"W-Who are you?" he asked breathlessly.

"…Let us all praise God."

The man grunted in pain as he suddenly felt a cold presence pierce into his stomach. Looking down as the woman stepped back, the man saw blood blotting his clothing and, giving his killer an incredulous look, he saw a retractable blade covered in his blood peeking out of her right sleeve.

As he felt his life leave him, the man desperately desired to go out on his terms—giving one final insult to the woman who'd killed him. His body, on the other hand, protested the action, and he slowly slumped forward onto the ground, a pool of blood spreading from underneath his lifeless corpse.

Staring down at the dead body, the woman said one more thing before disappearing into thin air, having performed the symbol of the cross in the air with two fingers..

"Hallelujah."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I've killed again…

Ginny quietly watched her husband passionately argue in the Queen's presence for swift attacks on the American west coast, where several Resistance cells had petitioned for aid from the Empire.

My hands are strewn with blood…

Looking down at her pale, delicate hands, Ginny couldn't help but envision the almost constant presence of that red liquid splashing her hands as her work forced her to take one life after another. The same hands she used to carry her beautiful daughter, and used to touch her husband and friends.

Why do you love me?

It was a question that haunted her after every mission. How could her Harry love her so much despite her ever-growing list of kills? How could he bear to even look at her, knowing that to some other man, she was the last sight he'd seen on this world. How could he bear to touch her, make love to her, knowing she was tainted with the blood of nearly a hundred men?

How can you touch me?

She felt dirty all the time now. Even more so when she carried her beloved daughter, or made love with her husband. She could feel the hatred, the fear, the very horror of her victims all the time. Even turning to religion had not calmed her conscience.

Why do I do this?

She knew the answer, of course. Even then, she repeated the question to herself after every kill, after every death. She knew that all her victims deserved their fate. Slavers, arms dealers, Death Eater generals, Collaborator leaders—all scum that needed to be eliminated for the Empire to rise to the Heavens.

But even then, she knew it wasn't about the Empire. It wasn't the war that drove her to don the white Arabian outfit. It wasn't loyalty to the Queen that made her sharpen her retractable blade before every mission.

I love you, Harry, Sarah…

That was all there was to it. She loved her family. She loved her little daughter, who seemed to be constantly bursting with insatiable energy. She loved her husband, despite his faults and many sins. With all her body, mind, and soul, she loved her family.

And so she donned the white hood, sharpened the hidden blade, and killed men ruthlessly in alleyways all around the world.

She watched now as Harry was authorized for his mission. He had that look on his face. Pride, courage, and determination. All qualities that made her love him every day. Despite his occasional cruel streak, despite his orders to occasionally wipe out entire villages, she loved him. She was determined to see his succeed, to see him reach his goal.

My soul is a low price to pay for that…

Ginny stared at her latest victim, who was looking up at her, raggedly coughing out blood as his hate-filled gaze pierced her eyes.

"You'll never win, Shadow Queen," he sneered, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. "You'll never be remembered, either. A shadow, that's all you are! History will forget you!"

Ginny cupped the man's head between her hands and lowered her head near to his ear.

"But you'll be forgotten first," she whispered, before bringing down her blade into the man's heart.

The man gasped in pain for a second before slumping, dead, against the wall, his wide, horror-filled eyes staring blankly at the overcast sky.

Standing up from her crouching position, Ginny looked up at the sky as well, allowing the first trickles of rain to fall on her pale, beautiful face.

I am shadow. I am death.

Ginny kept looking up, even as the shouts of the local guard came closer.

I have but one mission. One goal.

The guards finally reached the entrance to the alleyway and shouted in dismay as they saw their leader's corpse, but no one else.

I will help you reach your goals, my love.

Ginny watched neutrally from the top of the building as the guards swarmed the alley, looking for their leader's murderer.

For that, I will be your shadow.

She dropped in the midst of the group, blades extended out of her sleeves. The Death Eaters shouted in panic as they barely had time to realize what was going on.

For that, I will kill.

A slash here and a stab there, and two more men fell victim to her. One of the Death Eaters tried to put her Cruciatus on her, but a flexible bending of her back allowed her to dodge it and instead cause the man to curse a colleague instead. Neither men had time for apologies, as she swiftly dispatched them. Four down.

For that, I shall be a Shadow Queen.

Ginny stood in the rain, a mass of watery blood at her feet as all sixteen of her assailants lay dead at her feet. Again, she looked up into the sky, letting the rain wash off her cloak of the blood strewn all over it. The scent would never leave, the sense never diminish. She was forever tainted by her sins, but she did not care. For her husband, for her family, she would murder her God, if need be.

Hallelujah.

AN: Sorry for the darker interlude, but it was necessary to explore Ginny's character a little more in depth. After all, all we've seen of her is indirect appearances, without actually going into why she tolerates Harry's behaviour, or how she feels about the Empire at all. Hopefully, this resolves those questions. Like Lion's Roar, this is meant as a prelude to the next chapter. - MB