Little Girlfriend
Death smelled an awful lot like fire. Perhaps all those years of pranking Seth had come back to bite me, after all. I had just enough time to feel some regret before being slapped smartly across the cheek. I wrenched my eyes open, blinking in disbelief as I saw Ginny Potter's face peering into mine.
"Good, you're awake," she said briskly.
"W-what?" I managed.
"I wasn't going to leave you," she said, sounding scornful.
I looked around wildly, but the room noticeably lacked one vengeful man. "Where's Luke?"
Ginny's expression darkened. "He Apparated away, I'm afraid."
"H-how did you fend him off?"
She smiled slightly. "Never underestimate a mother's wrath, dear," she said and pressed my wand into my waiting hands. "I won't forget what you did," she added softly.
I heard a low, hacking cough behind me, and I whirled, my hands leaping to my chest -
Albus Severus Potter stood before me, his mouth curved into a crooked smile. "Miss me?" he managed, and, although his voice was cloaked with smoke and grit, it was unmistakably Al.
I ran forward and flung my arms around the Auror. "I thought you were dead," I blubbered, wiping tears and snot into his dark shirt. I felt the familiar pressure of his chin as he rested his head on mine. He smelled like mint and pine, and I breathed in deeply, trying to memorize every detail of this moment.
"And leave you? Never," he said quietly. "Besides, you still owe me twenty galleons. No way am I dying before I cash that in."
I let out a startled laugh and shifted so I could see his face. "Twenty galleons? For what?"
Al's eyes gleamed, and he said, "For this." He cupped my cheeks gently with his hands and, bending down, pressed a searing kiss against my lips. I felt my face go bright red as a thrill sped rapidly through my body, and Al pulled away slightly, smirking down at me with an all-too-pleased expression.
"Twenty galleons, eh?" I gasped out, feeling a bit faint. "Bit cocky, aren't you?"
The Auror shrugged, his brows wagging mischievously. "Really, it was worth fifty, but I was feeling generous," he said. Well, that was truly unacceptable. I lifted myself onto my toes, and, gripping his shirt tightly, kissed him again.
I could feel his lips curving into a smile that mirrored my own. Merlin, standing here in Al's arms, I felt so - so happy. I heard a muffled cough and, remembering Ginny (oh no - how long had she had to watch me snog her youngest son?), looked down.
Still holding my head gently between his hands, Al brushed his lips against my forehead. "I'm sorry about Aleksandra," he said quietly. "I should have told you as soon as I heard."
"Yes," I said, looking at him unblinkingly. "You should have." I was angry with him for concealing Aleksandra, I was angry with him for acting so cold to me when we'd first reunited all those months ago, but, above all, I was just happy the damned prat was alive. So, letting out a long, rattling sigh, I reached up a hand to trace the sharp edge of his jaw. "But I'm glad you're alive...even if you do insist on making up imaginary debts."
He smiled wanly but didn't respond, and I frowned. He was usually far more ready with a witty retort. "Are you alright? I mean, aside from the whole brush with death."
His eyes adopted a troubled cast, and his hands stilled around my waist. "It's hard to describe, but I feel something - or, rather, an absence deep in my chest. It feels like an essential part of me is gone, but I can't identify it or even begin to know how to recover it," he said, his voice thick with frustration.
Numberita summoned a memory of Luke: So this is what it feels like to have magic.
In the last few minutes, I'd seen my best friend die and be revived. I'd seen a Squib wield a wand. I'd seen magic I'd never even heard of. Could Luke have stolen Al's magic? The prospect was too terrible to name - Merlin, I had no idea what I'd do if my magic were gone - and, seeing my troubled expression, Al's eyes drifted shut. The dim light of the rising sun cast harsh shadows in the hollows of his cheeks, highlighting the toll of these past few weeks.
We stood there quietly, just holding each other, before another cough sent us apart. I turned, flushing slightly at Ginny Potter's deadpan stare.
"Seems to me like there is plenty of besmirching going on," she said dryly, and my blush deepened.
"Mum," Al protested, and he sounded so much like a petulant son that I couldn't help but laugh. It felt so good to have him back. My eyes traced the path of the runes, and my stomach lurched as I remembered the third occupant of the room. Aleksandra still lay, unmoving, on the ground, her arms draped over her head. Yes, I wanted her punished for what she'd done to Al, but it didn't feel right to leave her to die when I knew I could save her. No one deserved death - not even Aleksandra.
I approached her fallen form cautiously, half-expecting the witch to leap up at any moment. Her body, however, remained still, and I knelt carefully. Then, my brows furrowing in concentration, I repeated the same incantation I had used on Al, my limbs sagging as I felt the magic leave my body. The room glowed a soft blue, and Al knelt beside me.
"What are you doing?" he asked, and his words were edged with something dangerous. This was the woman who had done - something - to him, and I was helping her. I bit my lip, struggling to come up with some way to convey what I was feeling.
"I can't let her die," I said simply. After eleven long seconds, the Auror nodded, his face grim. I ran my hands over her body and watched, gritting my teeth, as the witch's chest began to move.
Once I was satisfied she would survive, I stood, my legs trembling with fatigue, and wiped the sweat from my face. "There," I said. "She should survive the trip to the Ministry's prison, at least."
The words had barely left my mouth when the room began to flash with red light.
"What's happening?" Ginny demanded, her voice shrill. Al doubled over, his teeth clenched tightly. I looked around the room wildly, my eyes struggling to acclimate to the sporadic flashes of light, and froze when I saw the empty expanse that had once held Aleksandra.
"Where-" I began. Al let out a strangled yell, and I whirled, my wand glowing red -
Aleksandra wavered unsteadily next to Al, her hands encircling his neck. Thick, noxious black smoke billowed from under her fingers.
"Aleksandra," I said, "Let him go." Although I had my wand and Numberita had summoned a dozen different suitable spells, I couldn't risk hitting Al.
The Bulgarian looked at me, and I stepped back involuntarily. The witch's dark irises appeared to be smearing, the boundary between her iris and pupil disappearing as her pupils swelled. When she opened her mouth, I could see smaller runes burning along her gums and tongue. "He will die anyway," she rasped. "It is a mercy to kill him now." The muscles in her arms tensed as she tightened her grip. Al's eyes hardened and, with one fluid motion, the Auror twisted forward, flinging the witch over his back, and slammed Aleksandra to the ground.
He pinned the witch down with his forearms, his throat bearing two blackened handprints, and snarled, "What did you do to me?"
The Bulgarian's eyes were hard as she stared woodenly at the Auror. Sensing danger, I stepped forward, the beginnings of an offensive spell forming on my lips.
"I suggest you speak," Al said, his voice dangerously quiet. His face was now cast entirely in shadow, and his body was a savagely elegant curve in the darkness. When the witch didn't respond, the Auror gripped the front of her tunic, lifting her roughly from the ground. "What did you do to me?"
"Al," I said, seeing the witch's face go purple from lack of oxygen. I pressed my hand against his shoulder. Under my touch, his shoulder was a network of tightly coiled muscles.
He looked at me, and I bit back a sob at the anger and masked terror I saw in his eyes. If Luke had really stolen his magic, then that meant even if we did manage to survive today, Al's career as an Auror was essentially over. Who knew whether the ritual was reversible?
"This isn't the way," I said quietly, wishing desperately that I could find some way to make things right, to make those cursed runes disappear. After seven long seconds, Al let the witch drop, his hands balling into tight fists at his sides.
Aleksandra let out a hoarse laugh. "You're weak," she spat, glaring up at Al. "Cowed by your little girlfriend. This is why you stand no chance against Ragnuk."
Al blinked and, his mouth widening into a thin smile completely devoid of mirth, folded his arms over his chest. "That was a mistake."
The Bulgarian frowned, saying, "A mistake?"
Well, that was my cue. I leveled my wand at the witch, grinning savagely when the Bulgarian looked at me with surprise. "Watch it, Tsvetkov. The little girlfriend bites."
A flash of something - respect? - crossed the Bulgarian's face. "I see," she said. "Still, spirit or not, your boyfriend knows his fate. The runes are a cruel mistress, and the markings require payment." At this, she grimaced and held up her hands. Like her pupils, the flesh on her hands seemed to blur into their surroundings, leaving an indistinct barrier between witch and air. She looked like she was bleeding into the room itself, leaving only the dark runes behind.
"How do we stop it?" I demanded, my voice hard.
She shook her head. "There is no stopping it," she said. "This much power was never meant to be contained in a human prison."
"Too much power?" Ginny demanded, her cheeks as red as her hair. "You've stolen all of my son's magic and now you tell me he has too much power?"
Aleksandra's eyes were sad. "Your son still possesses power, but it is power tied completely to the runes. He will not be able to use any of it, as all that energy is being channeled to Luke. You will not believe me, but I am sorry. It was never my intention to use the runes in this way." As she spoke, another rune sketched itself onto the plane of her high, square cheekbone, and she lifted her chin proudly. "It is a cursed thing, to be tied to the runes. I am ready to join my brother."
She sprang from the floor, her dark limbs spiraling elegantly, and darted for the window.
"No," I heard Al cry, his hands going reflexively for the wand he no longer possessed.
"Petrificus totalus," I shouted, and the Bulgarian went crashing down instantly. Breathing heavily, I approached her cautiously, blanching at the malice in her eyes.
"You say you are sorry for what you have done," I said, staring down at her. "This is your chance to make things right. You know just as much as I that Luke should not have access to magic. He is too volatile, too mad with power - help us, Aleksandra Tsvetkov. Help us rid the world of a monster it cannot afford to face."
Then, slowly, slowly, I released the witch from the Full-Body bind and, my eyes not leaving hers, slipped my wand into my pocket. Only Aleksandra knew enough about runes to even have a hope at bringing Luke down, and only Aleksandra could prevent the massacre I feared was occurring even as we spoke.
I offered my hand deliberately and said quietly, "Andrei would not want you to discard your life so easily."
The witch's eyes flashed at the mention of her brother, and I felt Al shift behind me. Glancing at Al, I signalled for him to stay away, not wanting to rush the Bulgarian into another rash decision. The Auror's jaw tensed, his eyes narrowed, but he nodded stiffly, trusting me to handle the situation.
Finally, finally, the witch sighed. "Alright," she agreed and gripped my hand with bone-crushing strength (yup, that was going to bruise later).
I hauled her to her feet and, smiling warily, said, "Brilliant. Now, I don't suppose there's some magical button we can press to stop Luke?"
"Unfortunately, no. I meant what I said earlier - there is no counterspell to magic this ancient and this unpredictable. I am afraid that, if you do confront Luke, you are walking into sure death."
No counterspell. I tensed, chancing another glance at Al, but the Auror's eyes were unreadable. Only the muscle twitching in his jaw revealed the pain he must be feeling. The Auror took a step towards Aleksandra and said, his voice perfectly level, "You said this much power was not meant to be contained in a human prison and that you yourself are feeling the ramifications of the runes. Is there any way we can hasten Luke's own demise?"
Numberita latched eagerly onto the idea. Al had a point; from the looks of it, the runes were rapidly consuming the last vestiges of the witch's remaining flesh. Although Aleksandra hadn't explicitly said what would happen once the devouring was complete, I had the feeling that it would not be a pleasant fate. If we could somehow speed up this process for Luke, then maybe, maybe, we could stop him.
I cast another worried look at Al, my eyes lingering on the dark curves spiralling up the pale expanse of his bare forearms. From a distance, the runes looked like harmless Muggle tattoos. I knew, however, that if I stepped even five centimeters closer, I would see the runes' edges shifting hungrily in a manner that was decidedly magic and, most of all, decidedly deadly. I squashed my despair down stubbornly. Al would live. I hadn't gone through all this just to have my best friend and sort-of boyfriend die. After all, this little girlfriend had teeth, and I was not afraid to use them.
"I-I suppose it might work," Aleksandra said slowly, her teeth flashing white in the darkness. "But Luke would need to expend an almost unfathomable amount of magic in a narrow window of time. And, if he does expend that much energy, the effects would surely be fatal for everyone within a hundred mile radius."
Her words almost - almost - squashed the small hope I clutched tightly in my chest, and I stubbornly retorted, "But it's possible. We'll just have to find some way to take out Luke without killing everyone."
"That still leaves Ragnuk and Greyback," Ginny pointed out.
I smiled grimly. "That, I think I know how to handle." I hurriedly filled them in on my observations from Gringott's - how Ragnuk and Greyback had seemed inches away from fighting, how the goblins were scornful of the werewolves' brutality and how the werewolves resented the goblins' superiority.
"So we find some way to turn them against each other," Al said, his eyes thoughtful. He tapped his long fingers against his lips, deep creases appearing between his angular brows.
"You are forgetting the neudŭrzhimi orŭzhie," Aleksandra interjected.
"The what?" Ginny asked.
"The Elder Wand," I realised, my stomach sinking. "We've all seen how much Ragnuk can accomplish with it."
Ginny pursed her lips. "My husband set that cursed wand in Dumbledore's tomb in the hopes that this would never happen," she said.
"We'll get it back," I said, sounding considerably more confident than I felt.
The floor shuddered under our feet, sending me careening to the side. Al caught me, his arms encircling my waist, and had the audacity to smirk. "Never cast you as the swooning type," he said.
I couldn't hide my relieved grin, glad that Al was joking again. His prior anguish had frightened me and, although his shoulders were still tense, at least he was smiling again. "Sod off," I said eloquently, wishing that I could remain in his hold forever.
But, alas, certain death was calling my name, and I was never one to back down from the chance to put an insufferable prat in his rightful place.
"Right," I said, brushing bits of plaster from my eyes, "let's get out of here before the giants bring the whole building down."
Three hands landed on my arm and, gritting my teeth, I Apparated us all from the danger of St. Mungo's to the considerably greater danger of the Ministry building.
AN: ehehehehehe. Thanks all for reading! :) 1000th reviewer gets a oneshot. Announcement: I've posted a Dramione one shot! There is also an interview version hosted on my tumblr (quillstrike)