Molly Weasley rocked her daughter in her arms. Ron had gone to bed without much issue. Percy, Bill and Charlie were all asleep as well. The twins were currently being worn out by her husband, Arthur, upstairs.

So now all that remained was Ginny. Ginevra, really, but Molly had a sneaking suspicion that her daughter wouldn't be keen on its old-fashioned nature.

Ginny was notoriously difficult to put to bed. She had the energy of the twins at only three months old.

She whimpered in her arms and Molly sighed, standing from her chair and allowing herself a full range of motion in lulling her daughter to sleep.

As Ginny continued to stir in her arms, Molly started to sing.

"My spark, my fire, you are all I see.

I watch as you run.

Oh, to be so free.

Though you may be young,

I know you'll travel farther than me.

My spark, my fire, you are all I see."

Molly set the sponge to scrub away at the morning's dishes. She looked out the window above the sink at her children playing in the garden. Ginny was kicking sand into the pond – a favourite activity of hers – while Ron tried to convince the twins to let him ride their broomstick. Of course, Ron was only four. His magic hadn't developed enough to let him use a broom in the first place.

"Ron!" Ginny cried from the pond. Dragging his name out to catch his attention. "Come look!"

Ron hunched his shoulders and stomped off to his sister. Tears brimming in his eyes. Molly shook her head in amusement. She was quite looking forward to seeing how her children would grow. Who would be closest with who? Ideally, they'd all be equally as close and supportive, but she knew that was rather unlikely.

That night, as she said goodnight to Percy, the twins, and Ron, she descended the stairs to tuck Ginny in.

She was sitting on her windowsill, hairbrush in hand, staring out at the night sky. Winter was on its way, and the stars were well visible in the cloudless sky.

"Are you ready for bed?" Molly asked, not like she needed to. Ginny was already dressed in her pyjamas and waiting for her.

Ginny nodded; eyes still fixed outside.

Molly approached her and took the hairbrush from her hand. "Do you want me to brush it?"

"Yes," Ginny replied, simply.

Molly sat behind her daughter; positioned at a good angle to brush without needing to bend her arm uncomfortably. "The only reason I ask is that last night you said you were too old to have me brushing your hair."

Ginny nodded, worrying her bottom lip. "That was before I tried,"

"You tried brushing it yourself?" Molly asked with a hint of amusement in her tone.

Ginny sighed. "I'm wu-rubbish at it,"

Molly chuckled at her struggling to pronounce the letter 'R'. "That's alright. Young ladies like you don't have to know how to brush their hair on their own,"

Ginny sagged in relief. "Good."

With her hair brushed, and her buttons done up properly, Ginny slid off the windowsill and got into bed. Molly followed her and brought the sheets up around her shoulder, tucking them in behind her arms before pulling the duvet over top.

Molly sat on the bed and ran her hands through Ginny's hair, massaging her scalp.

"My spark, my fire, you are all I see.

I watch as you run.

Oh, to be so free.

Though you may be young,

I know you'll travel farther than me.

My spark, my fire, you are all I see."

Eight-year-old Ginny Weasley stomped off to her room. The twins exchanged worried looks.

"Why can't we let her fly with us?" Ron asked defiantly. "She's never going to learn if we don't let her,"

George shrugged. "It'll take so much time to teach her… plus, mum doesn't want her flying."

Fred nodded. "Yeah, that's a good point. Mum doesn't want her flying."

Molly listened to the conversation from the kitchen, illuminated only by the moonlight. Making a quick decision, she let magic finish the cleanup work, and headed up to Ginny's bedroom.

She bit her lip, thinking of what to say, before knocking on the door three times. "Ginny, dear? Can I come in?"

There was no response from inside. Molly sighed and carefully opened the door. "Ginny?"

Her daughter was curled up in bed, her back facing the door.

"Ginny, can we talk? About today?"

Molly stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

"I don't want to talk," Ginny replied, her voice muffled.

Molly nodded and sat on the foot of the bed. She looked over her shoulder down at Ginny and noted tear tracks on her face.

"Oh, sweetheart," Molly crooned. "They just don't understand,"

"They all should," Ginny cried. "They've all had to wait their turn to learn how to fly…and- and they all got that chance,"

Molly placed a hand on Ginny's feet, squeezing them. "Well… one day you'll get the chance to prove them wrong,"

Ginny's sniffling ceased. "What?"

Molly let out an uncharacteristic giggle. "Don't think I don't know about your twilight excursions to the pitch. You're quite good you know. Better than Charlie was at your age,"

Ginny sat up, wiping her eyes quickly and patting her hair back. "You know about… you aren't angry?"

Molly quirked an eyebrow. "No, I'm not angry. I was worried at first but then I went out to watch you,"

Ginny looked down abashedly. She seemed to be smiling a bit and Molly laughed. "Don't hide that proud smile, Ginny,"

She looked up at her mother and let the grin widen. "I want to fly for the Harpies someday," she blurted out randomly, causing Molly to set her shoulders back on instinct.

"Well, you better make it then. Make sure I'm there to watch you wipe the smirks off your brother's faces," Molly playfully pushed Ginny's shoulder and stood from her bed.

"Are you ready to get some sleep?" she asked tentatively.

Ginny nodded. It had been a long and emotionally exhausting day.

"Right then," said Molly under her breath. She performed the usual routine. Carefully tucking all of the various blankets and sheets in around Ginny.

"My spark, my fire, you are all I see.

I watch as you run.

Oh, to be so free.

Though you may be young,

I know you'll travel farther than me.

My spark, my fire, you are all I see."

But for the first time in eight years, Ginny hadn't fallen asleep. Instead, she peered over the covers and said in a very quiet voice, as if she was afraid to ask her question, "Hey mum? Could you maybe… not sing for me every night? I'm… well, I'm a bit old for it now,"

Molly couldn't help but let her face fall a little. She took a breath and nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course. I suppose you're right… you are a bit old for it…"

Molly sat in the sitting room, staring at The Evening Prophet without taking any of it in. Her Hogwarts-aged children had just come home for the summer after a truly terrible year. It had started off poorly with Ron having taken the car to Hogwarts, then strange things seemed to affect her daughter all year round, culminating in a truly dreadful affair in The Chamber of Secrets.

Ginny was upstairs, now. Occasionally waking up in a cold sweat and often times, screaming. The night terrors had been reportedly difficult at Hogwarts, but now it was even worse. She rarely, if ever, got a full night's sleep.

A blood-curdling scream rang out from upstairs, and Molly got to her feet and wearily climbed to Ginny's bedroom. She'd set a silencing charm on all the doors in the house, so as long as everyone was hidden away in their rooms, they couldn't hear Ginny.

Molly opened the door and faced the horrible, inhuman sound of one's child screaming for their life. She rushed over and picked Ginny up, enveloping her in her arms.

"You're alright. You're here, you're home. You're safe now," Molly reassured her daughter, rocking back and forth. She could still remember when Ginny could fit in her arms without any trouble. Now it was quite the process.

Ginny's eyes stared blankly up at her mother. "I didn't mean it. I didn't kill him I swear," she mumbled, unseeing.

Molly scrunched her face up to keep herself from crying. "I know. I know, Ginny. You're safe now. It wasn't real. You didn't do anything wrong,"

Ginny nodded, blinking rapidly and coming to her senses.

There was a long silence where Molly did nothing but rock back and forth, supporting Ginny's head.

"Mum?" Ginny's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yes?"

"Can you sing to me? Like before?"

The word 'before' meant to much now. Before school, before the Chamber. Before the Diary. Molly nodded fervently and took a few calming breaths. She knew there was more to it than Dumbledore or Ginny was saying, but she didn't believe it was worth discussing. It was in the past now. All they had to do was move on.

As her breathing calmed, and Ginny's eyes stared pleadingly up at her, Molly sang.

"My spark, my fire, you are all I see.

I watch as you run.

Oh, to be so free.

Though you may be young,

I know you'll travel farther than me.

My spark, my fire, you are all I see."

"This is not my daughter," Molly said through gritted teeth. The body that lay before her. The body that had caused so much terrible harm to her heart. The body that would surely reach The Prophet.

"Mum don't make this harder than it needs to be," said Bill, his voice cracking. "Please don't make this harder."

Molly felt as though she was going to vomit. Her shoulders shaking, she pointed at Bill. "She isn't. Dead!"

"Molly," Arthur's calm demeanor had been completely shattered. His face reflected that of terrible pain. "Molly, please."

"NO!" she screamed. Everyone jumped. "You do not understand I can feel her. I can feel her heart," she sobbed, "I can feel her heart beating. I am her mother. I know this, Arthur, I know she is alive I can feel it."

Percy huffed in irritation and stomped off to the corner of the autopsy room. "Someone needs to tell Ron and the twins. We need to get to them before The Prophet does."

"How can you go right back to… business as usual?" Bill shouted, his hands shaking. "OUR SISTER IS DEAD!"

Percy said nothing. His back remained to the family.

"He's right," Arthur whispered. "We can't let them… they need to hear it from us."

They all turned as one to face Molly and the body. The desperate mother clutching her daughter, singing an old nursery rhyme.

My spark, my fire, you are all I see.

I watch as you run.

Oh, to be so free.

Though you may be young,

I know you'll travel farther than me.

My spark, my fire, you are all I see.

Regretfully Uncaring

Chapter 39: A Grave by the Pond

Nymphadora Tonks drummed her fingers on the table in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Her hair was a tasteful piss-yellow today, which wasn't by choice. She'd lost a bet to Sirius, who sat across from her at the other end of the table and was now forced to wear it for the rest of the day. She'd signed some ridiculous Marauder's contract and everything.

"Anything?" Tonks asked. She knew that Sirius understood her meaning. The question had gone from: 'Any news on Harry and Ginny?' to 'Anything on Harry and Ginny?' to 'Have you heard anything?' to its final form they used today.

Sirius shook his head, scribbling away at something on a notepad before levitating a miscellaneous object into a large pack.

"Where are you going, anyway?" Tonks asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Dumbledore's orders."

"What happened to everyone being in the loop?" she huffed.

Sirius put his quill down and sighed. "I'm going to France to try and find Greyback," he said curtly. "I'm checking things off my packing list,"

Tonks raised an eyebrow. "Why would Greyback be in France?"

Sirius opened his mouth to answer before abruptly closing it and shrugging. "I think Dumbledore is working off a theory right now,"

They lapsed into silence as Sirius continued to roll things up to their physical limit before placing them in the bag.

"You can just shrink things," Tonks offered. "You know… with magic,"

Sirius flicked his wand and sent a pair of socks careening into Tonks's face. "I'm well aware of that… I'm not phenomenal at getting it back to the right size."

Tonks snorted into her coffee. "I thought Transfiguration was your best subject?"

Sirius turned his back to her and rummaged around in his pack. "It is a hotly debated topic among my inferiors as to which subject I was best at,"

Tonks hummed in amusement, earning another pair of socks to the face.

Sirius suddenly slowed his movements and stood up, casually turning to face her. "What happened to that Dursley kid?"

Tonks shrugged, sipping away at her drink. "Dunno. He didn't want anything to do with me so…"

"Tonks," Sirius said, his voice suddenly uncharacteristically calm. "You were supposed to keep an eye on him."

Tonks gaped up at Sirius, slowly lowering her cup.

"TONKS!" Sirius shouted, trying to rouse her from her stupor.

"YES?" Tonks shouted back, matching his volume.

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. "When was the last time you saw him?"

Tonks closed her eyes to think. It can't have been that long, can it? Today was Saturday, September 16th, 1995. A lot had happened.

"You're taking too long to remember this for comfort," Sirius mumbled.

"End of May," she said after a little while longer. "When I brought Harry to see him."

"TONKS WHAT THE FUCK?" Sirius bellowed. "THAT'S FOUR MONTHS AGO! How had you not thought of checking on him?"

Tonks stood from her seat and held her arms out to the sides. "Oh, I don't know, it's possible I've been a bit preoccupied with, let's see," she held up her hand and began counting on her fingers. "Grindelwald escaped-

"That was before Dudley,"

"Depends on how you look at it." Tonks countered.

Sirius rolled his eyes and waved her off. "Alright, so you've been busy… sort of. We all have, but we haven't neglected our duties, now have we?"

Tonks was growing frustrated. "Alright, I forgot! I'm sorry, and I'll go check on him now!"

Sirius bowed his head to her. "Good. Get back before three. That's when my portkey leaves."

Tonks summoned her coat and wrapped it snuggly around herself, making her way to the apparition point and picturing St. Mungo's.

She loudly apparated into the lobby of the hospital, apologizing to the many disgruntled mothers whose children were now awake and wailing from the sound.

She ran to the front desk and patted the old wood surface, waiting for the secretary to notice her.

"How can I help you?"

Tonks forced a smile on her face. "Hi, I'm good thanks… so, I was wondering if I could visit Dudley Dursley?"

The secretary ran a hand through the magical logbook, its pages flipping on their own at the name 'Dudley Dursley'.

The pages stopped at DU and the secretary looked it over. "There is no Dudley Dursley here,"

Tonks's stomach dropped. Trying not to appear too concerned, she peered over the desk to get a look at the book herself. "Erm… see that's not… are you sure?"

The secretary nodded.

"Any chance I could look for myself?" Tonks asked.

The secretary was growing impatient. "If you have no business here, why bother? I mean, you can if you want,"

Tonks nodded gratefully and bolted for the lift.

The fifth floor was rather busy, but Tonks could do crowds. Hell, she could lead crowds.

She weaved rather gracefully for her standards around the heelers and visitors and retraced her steps from months before to go and find Dudley's room.

She pushed the door open and was met with nothing. Two empty beds in an empty room. "Shit," she hissed. She checked the next room and the ones beside that. All of them were either empty or filled with patients she didn't know with ailments she didn't care about.

"Can I help you, miss?" a woman asked, smiling brightly.

It was a bit unnerving.

Tonks debated withholding the information, but she'd already revealed her purpose to the secretary. Swallowing past the lump of dread in her throat she said, "I'm looking for Dudley Dursley. Have you seen him? If not… do you have any information on him?"

The woman's eyebrows shot up. "Dudley Dursley is dead… unless you tell me why you're looking for him,"

Her voice had changed. It had gained an accent, like someone who hadn't spoken English in some time.

Tonks cursed under her breath. "What happened to him?"

The woman smirked. "I told you. He died... unless you answer my question."

Tonks clenched her fists to control her mounting anxiety. "He's my… friend's cousin. I was meant to keep an eye on him but I was never told of his supposed death."

The woman nodded. "That makes sense. You weren't on his emergency contact list. Only Harry Potter was, and we all know that boy is gone and done with,"

Tonks took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "Where's the body."

The woman flicked her wand, and everything around them started folding and collapsing as though they were trapped within a kaleidoscope.

Tonks was fully panicking now. Her heart pounded in her ears. "What's going on?"

The woman sighed. "Don't you think it odd that Dursley's old room was completely empty? I mean… this hospital is packed all year round. You should have noticed the trap then,"

Tonks wrapped her hand around her wand in her coat while tapping her foot on the hard concrete below them.

"This… trap you find yourself in is of Egyptian nature. Where I've spent the better part of the last four years…"

"I really don't give a damn about your life's story." Tonks interrupted.

The woman nodded, smiling gracefully. "Greyback kidnapped Dudley Dursley at the end of May. It was quick and successful. The boy is wherever Greyback is…"

Tonks was so genuinely taken aback by the woman's cooperation that she couldn't get herself to form a response for a few seconds. Once her thoughts had finally caught up with her, she asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

The woman's face fell. "Because I am the one tasked with taking you to them."

Tonks tried to pull back, but the woman's arm reached out and grabbed her wrist in a firm hold. A spell shot out from the woman's wand in her other hand and sent Tonks into an unconscious heap on the floor.

Sirius was pacing in front of the door to Grimmauld Place. Tonks should've been back by now, but his portkey was leaving in the next half hour. He'd send her a message via Patronus, but he knew how Tonks was. It took long enough for her to focus on anything. He didn't want to risk drawing her out of that, no matter how impatient he was.

So, instead, he nervously shouldered his bag and apparated to his nearest Employee Ministry entrance. It was simple enough, really. All he had to do was step into the toilet bowl, and flush. It was his favourite for this very reason. It reminded him of James and tended to bring a smile to his face before work every day.

Of course, there wasn't much worth smiling about now.

He spun down the toilet and stepped out into the British Ministry's atrium.

He was greeted by the now common sight of Voldemort's pulling of the strings. To get to the wand check, he had to walk past the seemingly endless line of muggleborns waiting to be tried. Some had been there for weeks on end, holding their spot to face Dolores Jane Umbridge with a defense that wouldn't matter. Thousands of innocent men, women, and children, forced to stand trial in a world that had thrown them aside.

It was incredibly difficult to stomach, but Sirius couldn't show any kindness to them. He couldn't even pick up a dropped object for them. If he displayed any courtesy to one of them, his name would be flamed in The Prophet or on the Pensive Radios. Not to mention the Wizarding Wireless, which was still a primary source of information for witches and wizards all around the world.

So, instead, Sirius held onto the knowledge that someday, the muggleborns would enact revenge and relish in the glory of it all. That the people who had done this to them would face the consequences of their actions.

He only hoped that they wouldn't group him in with those who had caused them so much pain. Though he wouldn't blame them. Doing nothing made him feel just as responsible as Voldemort.

Sirius handed his wand over to be checked and registered. The boy working there was young. Just out of Hogwarts, surely.

"And how are things for you?" Sirius asked, intent on just talking.

The boy shifted awkwardly. "I'm doing fine, thank you, sir. I hope the same goes for you,"

Sirius smiled. "It does, thanks," he replied, even though it didn't. "What do you plan on doing this evening? It is a Saturday,"

The boy chuckled, performing a number of charms on Sirius's wand. "I hope to spend some time with my mum," he nodded to the unending line of muggleborns. "I'm just waiting for her to… erm… be cleared of all charges,"

The boy handed Sirius his wand back and smiled up at him. Sirius didn't know what to say, so he merely nodded and tried not to let his anger show.

And so, he stepped into the wider Ministry. The monolith that was the 'Magic is Might' statue cast a terrible shadow over the Atrium. Depicting hundreds of muggles being crushed under the power of the Ministry, the symbol for all magical people on the British Isles and Ireland, was horrible.

Sirius gritted his teeth and acted as though it didn't bother him. He tried to focus on something else entirely, but everywhere he looked was filled with pain. It felt as if he'd traveled back in time, and he was trapped alone with his mother in that terrible house. His eyes blackened and his ribs bruised. It felt like everything he'd ever fought for had won. That Lily and James' sacrifice was for nothing.

It was true, in many respects.

He tried not to think about it.

The line continued down into the lifts, and Sirius took an employee shortcut to get to international travel.

Sirius walked into the portkey office, his bag straps held tight against his shoulders.

"Sirius Black to Paris at three in the afternoon on the sixteenth," he said to the girl behind the desk.

She nodded, bored with her life and her job and completely disinterested in the world around her. Sirius tried very hard not to judge people on a single action, but things were so much different now.

And no one was doing anything about it.

He quickly shut down those thoughts, especially seeing the fact that the very concept of it all was hypocritical. Who was he to shame others when he himself continued to come in to work every day, continued to bow his head, and stay in the Ministry's good books?

His portkey was a large, discarded cardboard box.

"Since you're already here," the woman said in a bored tone of voice. "I can send you on your way once your finger touches the box,"

Sirius nodded and lifted his finger to the box.

"Have a safe trip!" she said with forced enthusiasm.

Sirius lifted his finger off the box for a moment to quickly tie his shoe.

It was then that the Patronus flew into the office, causing the young woman to scream in terror, running out of the office and leaving Sirius completely alone.

It was in the form of a large wolf with sparkling eyes.

"Remus," Sirius breathed. His old friend never contacted him unless it was urgent. He'd never once sent Sirius a message by Patronus before. Not that he could remember, anyway.

He quickly waved his wand to shut the door, throwing up some privacy charms while he was at it.

The wolf waited patiently while Sirius locked down a perimeter.

"Alright. Speak," commanded Sirius.

"Ginny's dead," the wolf with Remus's voice said, its voice full of emotion. "The body was found yesterday,"

Sirius felt as though a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured over his head. He couldn't move. He couldn't think.

Dead.

"Oh, Molly," Sirius cried, falling to his knees and looking at his hands in disgust.

Ron could tell that something was off with Remus all lesson. He was fidgeting and eyeing Ron out of the corner of his eye the entire time. It was incredibly unnerving. Especially since Ron had never seen him this… wrong.

Greengrass was sat next to him again, but she hadn't said anything. She'd come to class with red eyes and a frown. Evidently, no one was having a good day.

The bell rang and Ron made quick work of brushing everything off into his bag. He hauled it over his shoulders, and just as he was about to make his now typical long route out of the classroom, Remus called his name.

"Ron," he said, unsmiling. "I need to speak with you. The rest of you can run along… well, unless you've got questions about the assignment but besides that, you can all get to dinner."

Ron could've sworn he heard Daphne choke up at Remus's request. He turned to look at her and found her standing with clenched fists and her eyes tightly shut.

A part of him felt like he should ask what was wrong, but he was distracted by the boiling of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. It was like being told to come down to the kitchen to 'talk' as a child. He was thinking over every single action he'd made since the start of term, wondering what he could have done to deserve whatever punishment Remus wanted to throw his way.

Once everyone had left, Greengrass being the last of the lot, Ron continued eyeing the floor with apparent interest.

"Ron, I have… news from home," Remus began.

"What is it?" Ron asked, the dread in his stomach less palpable. If it was news from home it was probably just his mother acting up over the fact that he'd yet to write her a letter.

"I want you to sit down," said Remus quietly. His eyes seemed so hollow here. Like they had in the Shrieking Shack over a year ago now.

Ron sat back in his seat. His pack still resting on his back caused him to sit more on the edge of the chair than anything.

"There was… a body found in the river yesterday,"

"What river?" Ron interrupted, an odd sense of nothingness enveloping him.

A body.

Remus shook his head. He wasn't making eye contact with Ron. "I don't know."

Ron sighed and waited for him to continue.

"Audrey Williams, you know Audrey?" Remus asked tentatively. He still wasn't making eye contact.

Ron nodded. "Met her over the summer… she has the daughter… Crouch's daughter, right?"

"Yes. That's Audrey," Remus paused. "She found the body last night. They were dead at the scene… Ron, I don't know how to tell you this,"

And then the puzzle piece slipped right in, and Ron understood. His forced indifference to the entire story thus far vanished as comprehension set in. He felt oddly detached from himself but he knew who the body was the moment Remus looked up with tears forming.

"Ron, I'm so sorry," he choked. "It's her. They did the tests. It's her body."

Ron stood up slowly, his knees cracking. He turned to leave the class. He felt as though he was gliding.

Then, he stopped. Turning on the spot, he faced Remus. "She isn't dead," he said calmly. "I can hear her. All the time," anger was bubbling in his throat now. "Every. Damn. Day I hear her! From… from the walls," tears streaked down his face. "From in my own head, Remus for Merlin's sake I hear her!"

Remus wiped at his eyes and watched Ron with a mournful expression. "Have you ever entertained the possibility that this voice is from beyond the grave?"

Ron was shaking with anger. He pointed an accusatory finger at Remus. "Don't you dare. DON'T YOU DARE tell me what is and isn't… I'm…" he threw his arms up into the air and shook his head. He felt hysterical.

"Fred and George are being told by Minerva as we speak. The funeral is tomorrow," Remus said. His voice was quiet, but it echoed across the classroom.

Ron clenched his jaw and stuffed his hands in his robe's pockets. "I'll see you tomorrow then," he spat, before rushing out of the classroom and slamming the door behind him.

"Ron! Ron! Wait!" a girl called from behind him. She'd evidently been waiting for him to leave.

"FUCK OFF GREENGRASS!" Ron bellowed, causing a few scattered first years to scamper off.

But Greengrass didn't leave him alone. She started running. Her boots made an obnoxious repetitive sound on the stone floors as she tried to catch up with him.

"I need you to listen to me!" she cried. Her tone was desperate.

Ron continued stalking off.

"Stupefy!" Greengrass shouted, the spell flew over Ron's shoulder and he drew his wand, spinning around to hold it on her.

The spell was on the tip of his tongue as she practically screamed, "I CAN HEAR HER TOO!"

Ron froze, his wand leveled on the girl's neck. She was panting heavily. Her chest heaving and her cheeks flushed.

"I can hear her too," she repeated, breathless.

"Who?" Ron asked in disbelief.

Greengrass swallowed and wiped at her nose. "Ginny's. I have since August. Her voice just… I don't know. They come in random bursts… once or twice a week,"

Ron nodded, his mouth hanging open. "Are you sure it's Ginny?"

Greengrass nodded. "It's her."

Ron bit his tongue and finally lowered his wand. He checked his surroundings and pulled the blonde into a side passage. "Is she alive?"

Greengrass blinked rapidly and drummed her fingers on her thigh. "I don't know… I've… I haven't…" she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't know."

Ron felt tears forming at the back of his eyes again. They stood in silence, Daphne still breathing heavily from her short bout of exercise.

Ron pulled at his hair and continued to fight the tears from sliding down his face. He needed to change the subject.

"Why were you… erm…" Ron tried to conceal a sniffle as everyday congestion. "Why were you upset… earlier?"

Daphne looked up at him, then back down at the base of his neck. She shook her head silently.

Ron nodded in understanding. He didn't know how to leave. What situation was this? How was he supposed to navigate this? She could hear Ginny, and so could he. There was something going on and Ron was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"I should go," Daphne whispered, wiping her nose. Her arm brushed against Ron's torso in the cramped space.

Ron nodded, squirming slightly at her touch.

"Good luck tomorrow," she whispered, her body standing silhouetted in the light of the passage's entrance.

There was a long silence. Ron didn't know what to say. He refused to think about why he was being taken from school tomorrow. He didn't want it.

He needed her to be alive.

The sloshing of water on a gravelly beach was the first sound Tonks heard as she came to. Her hair was a soaking brown mess, and her long auror coat was weighing her down.

Suddenly, a warm breeze passed over her. Drying her clothes and hair in the process. A drying charm had been cast on her. She spun on the spot to locate the perpetrator.

There stood the woman who'd captured her in St. Mungo's. She was standing a few feet down the beach from her.

Tonks frowned at the wand being held on her. "I'm assuming I'm unarmed?"

The woman nodded but said nothing.

"Where are we?" Tonks shouted over the wind.

The woman remained silent. Choosing instead to point to the right.

Tonks followed the woman's gesture and was met with a towering structure. Clouds obscured its true height, though that may not have meant much since they were so close to the sea.

It was a giant, black cylinder peppered with large cavern-like holes all the way up. Moss lined the edges of each cave. The entire thing looked wet and cold and horrible.

It wasn't Azkaban, though. That, Tonks was certain. There was far too much plant life.

"Come," the woman said in her hoarse voice. She led the way off the pebbly beach and up to the fortress.

"Is this where Greyback is?" Tonks asked even though she was sure of it herself. It grated on her that the woman was speaking less than she had done in the hospital. She wanted information.

As they approached the towering structure, Tonks felt warmer and warmer.

It was radiating heat.

"Who are you?" Tonks asked, not expecting an answer. It was to pass the time, really.

"Chiara Lobosca," the woman replied. Her voice was a little less gravely as they reached the entrance to the stone fortress.

Tonks stopped dead in her tracks. How had she not recognized her? They'd shared a dorm for seven years.

"You look so different," Tonks breathed.

Chiara nodded. "I see your opinion on werewolves has changed over the years,"

Tonks shook her head fervently. "Of course not… I…"

"You abandoned Dudley," Chiara pointed out. "The Nymphadora I knew would never have done such a thing."

Tonks didn't know how to answer. Chiara didn't understand the circumstances of everything that had gone on with the Dursley situation. She was being ignorant.

Instead of replying, she just gestured to the torch-lined hallways in silence and continued to follow Chiara.

The passage was unbearably hot. The whole thing was one giant circular ramp leading to something above the clouds.

"What is this place?" Tonks asked again, now that Chiara seemed to be in a more talkative mood.

Chiara rolled her shoulders and quickened her pace. "This is the Eadem Mors," she looked back over her shoulder at Tonks. "It means 'The Same Death'."

Tonks stuffed her hands in her pockets. "And where is it?"

"It is deep in the waters of the Mediterranean. Invisible to all those who shouldn't see it," Chiara explained. Her voice was becoming more and more humanlike the further they climbed.

"Shouldn't see it… as in muggles?"

Chiara hummed to herself. "Not necessarily. Only those who are able to see it can see it, and that is that."

Tonks didn't like that answer. She wasn't a logical person, but this was ridiculous. So, she decided to come up with her own theories. Only werewolves being able to visit didn't make any sense since she herself wasn't one. Muggles had to have been kept out but, then again, since when did Greyback and his sympathizers care about them?

"Do you know why you're here, Nymphadora?" Chiara whispered in question.

Tonks shook her head, her hair turning a dark red in reaction.

"You are here as… rite of passage. Your being in sacrifice for… a Lowen's promotion."

Tonks felt the trickle of dread turn into a flood of anxiety. She couldn't die. There was the war back home. Her mother didn't know where she was. Remus. There was Remus on top of it all.

They continued to climb for what felt like hours. Tonks could've sworn her back hurt more than usual. To be fair, it had been bothering her for the past week, but still, the climb wasn't helping things.

Chiara's fidgeting increased the higher they got. Tonks could've sworn she could see the heat waves coiling off every surface.

Finally, Tonks heard something.

Drums. Loud and barbaric. They sounded in unison, then apart, then back together again.

Chiara stopped dead in her tracks and held out an arm to catch Tonks.

"What?" she asked.

Chiara swallowed. "I do not want to do this," she said quietly. "I would never have joined him… but I had to,"

"Why?"

Chiara lowered her eyes to meet Tonks'. A lone tear slid down the side of her face. "He took her. He took my daughter."

Tonks's eyes widened and she gripped Chiara by the shoulders. "Where is she?"

Chiara pointed to the sound of the drumming. "Up there. Raised to be a gear in a well-oiled machine."

Tonks relinquished her once-friend and pulled at her hair. "Why haven't you tried to escape?"

"I have. It's impossible," the werewolf said, tears brimming once again.

Tonks shook her head in frustration. "Why you? Why… how did he find you? You were in Egypt, were you not?" she asked frantically, pulling a random piece of information from an earlier conversation she'd discarded.

"He spoke directly to me… on the night of the forced moon," Chiara's eyes gained a distant look about them. "April… he spoke to me, Remus, and a Scamander woman,"

Tonks nodded in understanding. The night Charlie had died. The night Grindelwald had escaped. She was focusing on one piece of information, however.

"Remus," she groaned. "You three must be his biggest mistakes. He bit you and Remus. One of his lackeys killed Alyssa's parents and infected her… he needed to correct them. He's out for the three of you… he's taking your children,"

Chiara nodded. "That's what I just said,"

"I know I was just putting it together… thinking out loud, or whatever," Tonks waved her off. "Remus hasn't got any kids…" she frowned. "That I know of,"

Chiara cleared her throat. "It's time. I can't hold you here any longer. I just needed you to know…"

"That you aren't doing this for Greyback," Tonks finished for her. "It's fine. I understand."

Chiara's lips almost formed a smile before dropping right back down. She turned away from Tonks and continued the climb to the drums.

It was another thirty steps when the ramp opened up into a giant cavern. It was so sudden that Tonks froze for a moment, taking everything in.

The drums and drummers carved out a narrow pathway for her and Chiara. Behind them, hundreds of grimy, scraggly men and women stood in silence. The clothes they wore were heavily tarnished and filthy. That was if they wore any at all. Most of them were completely nude.

At the back of the hall, way down the pathway, was a large throne built on scraps of metal and wood. Behind the throne was an enormous rune etched into the stone and painted in red.

It was a large triangular eye with a line right down the middle.

Tonks walked in silence through the drumming and the growls. Her hair was its unnaturally natural mousy brown, and her heart was racing like a dying rodent.

On the throne sat a man. One leg draped over the arm while the other supported his body in its lounged state. He wore no clothing. All of who he had become lay before her.

"Nymphadora Tonks," the man on the throne, Greyback, sneered. "How very kind of you to make an appearance… at last,"

"Didn't mean to keep you waiting," Tonks replied, trying to maintain her usual attitude.

Greyback grinned with blackened teeth. "It's no matter, Dora," the nickname sent a shiver down her spine. "Your… appearance has been… rather surprising."

Tonks attempted to conceal her shock. Wasn't this whole thing scheduled? Wasn't this all some plan to lure Remus to her? A sacrifice?

"You see… for a Lowen among our ranks to reach… well, any level of respect," Greyback explained, twirling his hands to elaborate. "They must prove themselves worthy of my grand army,"

He gestured to the enormous crowd around the room, causing them all to yelp and jump up and down.

The drumming continued its slow beat.

"They must destroy whoever cares most for them," Greyback continued. "Now, Dudley Dursley told us that no one cares about him. That his friends are nothing more than pawns, that his family is dead, and that his cousin was repulsed by him,"

The crowd snickered and cackled. Greyback smiled among them. "Yes, quite pathetic, isn't it?"

Tonks noticed for the first time that there was a tall young man in the corner. Shrouded by darkness. She could only make out his feet and his arms. The rest was completely shadowed over.

"So we determined that whoever would go and check up on him in St. Mungo's… that foul place," Greyback spat on the floor in front of Tonks. "Would be who to which we assigned this role. So, you, in whatever act of kindness you displayed today, are the one who cares most for Dudley Dursley!"

Tonks was thinking through every possible means of escape. She couldn't come up with anything. The only exits she could see were some passages at the back of the hall that surely burrowed deeper into Greyback's lair.

Well, that and the way she'd come in, but a quick glance over the shoulder told her everything she needed to know about that. It had already been closed off by a wall of feral people.

When she turned back to Greyback, the man who had been obscured in shadow had revealed himself. Sure enough, it was Dudley. Taller, leaner, and more brutish than before.

"Now, before we get started, we must test you, Dora," Greyback insisted, turning around and retrieving his wand, which was little more than a gnarled wooden stick.

He stepped towards Tonks; his heaving muscles wobbled with each step he took.

"I may not know many spells," Greyback coughed, "But I know this,"

He leveled the wand on her and began muttering an incantation. The drumming increased in speed and volume until there was nothing left to hear. Tonks tried to step out of the way, only to realize that her legs and arms were locked to her sides. She was in a full body-bind and hadn't even noticed the spell hit her.

Greyback gasped and took a step back. A cruel smile worked its way onto his face. He reeked of blood and decay.

The drumming ceased.

He leaned forward, his face in line with hers. His breath was somehow more terrible than his body. She gagged and he laughed, grabbing her face between his long, black fingernails.

"I have some good news for you, Dora," Greyback purred.

Tonks couldn't move, but how she wished to spit in his face and make sure he'd never use that name again. Very few could say it without getting themselves hexed.

"Your dying day is… not today," he rhymed, chuckling to himself. "You have something of greater value than…" he shot to his feet suddenly, and threw a fist at Dudley unexpectedly, sending him down on the floor. Dudley yelped and made to cover his head. "THAN A BOY TOO CONFLICTED TO BECOME WHAT HE IS DESTINED TO BE!" Greyback roared.

Tonks was forced to stare at Greyback's middle for far too long for comfort before he crouched back down in front of her and reached up to touch her face. He squeezed her cheek. "You see, Dora… as you may have guessed… this army of mine is more than just… an alliance. It is a weapon. A weapon that is…" he shook his head with his eyes closed, as though he were trying to lull himself to sleep. "Almost ready. The trouble is," he licked his lips and waggled his eyebrows. "We need three to complete the ritual… three to get this weapon… off the ground, so to speak,"

Greyback picked her up and hauled her under his arm, carrying her to the throne and placing her there, like a statue.

He took a few steps back and opened his arms. "Wolves!" he announced, drawing all attention back to him. "We have our third child!"

Tonks was regaining feeling in her face. She could frown and move her eyes, but she couldn't speak.

"Remus's little pet here… carries a few more secrets than we thought," Greyback went on. "She would have been a useful tool to lure him here, dead or not. Hell, she could've given us information on old Albus's plans," the army growled and snapped at the name. They were truly wild animals. Brainwashed by Greyback's lust for blood.

"You see, the woman who stands before you harbours a child!" Greyback said, raising his arms into the air and laughing in delight.

Tonks felt all the air rush out of her only to be replaced by chilling feelings of realization. The back pain, the irritation with the smell of Sirius's cooking.

They'd been so careful.

"Now there is but one remaining…" Greyback's voice dropped back down in volume. "The Scamander girl has had enough time with Weasley's pest. I will not have it!"

Tonks was breathing heavily now. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

She was pregnant.

Greyback had taken Chiara's daughter.

Now they were after Alyssa's kid. Charlie Scamander, named after her father.

"DURSLEY!" Greyback roared, rounding on the young man getting to his feet. "YOU WILL PROVE YOURSELF ANOTHER WAY!"

Greyback clicked his tongue repeatedly. The sound echoed off the stone walls. "Lobosca!" Greyback summoned Chiara from the corner. Her face was drenched with tears, and Tonks noticed her avoid eye contact.

"Wipe those off," he commanded. Chiara dutifully wiped her eyes and stood tall. "Take Dora to… well you know where don't you?" he smirked. "Take her away. Give her the same protection as the rest," he waited for a few moments before shouting. "BE GONE WITH YOU!"

Chiara nodded and hurried to Tonks, tapping her wand to her head to remove the body bind, and leading her down off the throne and to one of the two passageways.

Tonks was in complete shock.

"DURSLEY!" Greyback's roar could be heard no matter how far away they were. As was his command. "Find Alyssa Scamander… and bring me the girl."

Ron couldn't quite define how it felt to carry a casket to an open grave. He couldn't describe the absolute torment of it all. His mother's vacant expression. His father's defeated personality. How Bill and Percy hated every second of it. How Fred and George weren't smiling or at the very least carrying the trademark glint in their eyes.

Everything was lifeless. It wasn't how things were supposed to be.

As the coffin was lowered into the grave by the pond, - Ginny's favourite place besides the picture of Greece their mum had in their room - re-covered by the family members and eventually by magic, the speeches began.

Speeches of how she was taken too soon. That there was no parent who should have their child die before them.

They highlighted her strengths and her greatest moments. They spoke of whatever came to their minds.

It all felt like she hadn't even earned the chance to become a person.

All that was said was spoken through tears and desperate wails to the void.

Now, Ron sat in blissful indifference, staring at the family clock.

Ginny's hand was fixed on 'Lost'.

He blinked and felt tears roll down his cheeks. He didn't feel the emotion that was causing them. Nothing was real at this moment.

Ron heard a loud cawing from through the window, into the bright sunny sky. Of all the days for it to rain, Ron wished it was today. Ginny even liked the rain.

He hadn't known his sister. That had been the biggest wake-up call of the funeral. He'd taken her for granted. She was always there, he'd always known her. But he hadn't known what made her laugh. Not really. He didn't know what she desperately loved beyond measure.

Perhaps it was the cynic in him that felt that way. He couldn't tell.

Bill and Ron's parents seemed to be the only two who had anything real to say. Though neither of them could get through it.

He felt incredibly guilty over the whole thing, and every single one of his thoughts contradicted the last.

The cawing sounded again and Ron groaned. He hated ravens, and they were everywhere.

Except, as he looked out the window, this one stood alone.

Ron shrugged it off. That wasn't uncommon. Ravens didn't really hang around each other, as far as he knew.

He decided to go back to watching the family clock.

"Are you alright, boy?" a voice caught Ron off guard and he spun to face the source of it.

There was an old man sitting in what had always been Ginny's chair. His beard was well-kept, and there was a strange twinkle in his eyes, much like Dumbledore's.

"Who are you?" Ron asked. He could hear footsteps and he immediately turned toward them.

Percy and Bill had come to the sitting room. Their shock at the sight before them lasted for less than a second before they'd drawn their wands and started blasting the man with a barrage of spectacular spells.

All of them were absorbed by an invisible shield around the chair.

"Boys," the man greeted. "I'm sorry for your loss,"

Ron had never seen more hatred, more fury in Bill's eyes. "You'll pay for what you did!"

The man sighed. "As I explained to your sister and her husband, I'll explain to you now,"

The three boys were all surprised by that statement.

"You spoke to our sister?" Fred asked, who'd just arrived alongside George.

"Ginny's married?" Percy asked at the same time.

The man held up his hands to silence them all. "Please sit, I will explain myself,"

The remaining Weasley brothers shared a look before taking up their own casual positions. Sitting, leaning against a wall, or whatever else they'd come up with. Ron was sitting on the edge of his seat.

Maybe Ginny wasn't gone.

The man introduced himself. The name sent a bolt of rage through Ron's mind, but he fought it.

Gellert Grindelwald.

He described his perspective on who Greyback was and why he, Grindelwald, made the decisions he did at Nurmengard. He explained his cryptic warnings, and how they could have understood if they'd tried. It was condescending and insulting to Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Fleur. It was all so ridiculous. The entire situation was silly and irritating.

But Grindelwald was right. On a technical level, anyway.

"Why are you here," Bill asked after Grindelwald's long-winded explanation. "You sure as hell don't give a damn that our sister is dead."

Grindelwald bowed his head. "I am a seer, as you well know," Bill and Percy shifted awkwardly. "and your sister's fate is… uncertain,"

Percy laughed humourlessly. "We know her fate," he shrieked. "SHE'S DEAD."

Grindelwald shrugged. "She may not be. I have seen futures in which she is, and some in which she isn't," Ron's breath hitched. "It seems death… time… has yet to decide on your sister and her husband,"

"Why do you keep saying that?" Percy demanded. "She was fifteen when she died. Fifteen! There was no ring on the body…"

Grindelwald lifted a single finger. "Ah, but that is the question, isn't it? And I should clarify… husbands. There is much debate among seers as to which she will choose,"

"How many of you are there that are debating our sister's love life?" George said, a hint of humour in his lifeless tone.

"Oh, just two," Grindelwald clarified. "My friend and I… well, we have lots of free time,"

"Stop speaking in riddles and get to the point," Bill spat.

Grindelwald sighed. "I suppose I owe you that," he cleared his throat and explained. "Your sister isn't dead. That body you buried? Not hers. It is a copy made by Bartemius Crouch Jr. with a piece of her hair and the corpse of Peter Pettigrew. Quite a brilliant plan, if you ask me, except for the fact that You-Know-Who doesn't know of this plan."

Ron was furiously taking mental notes. Holding on to each detail.

"Her body and mind are… out of reach for me… but closing in on others. Your sister is playing a dangerous game. Death is growing impatient, and the world relies entirely on what Miss Weasley will choose," Grindelwald finished, sitting back in Ginny's chair and tenting his fingers on his lap.

There was complete silence in the sitting room. Their mother and father were presumably, still out by the grave, thanking guests and cleaning up.

"Ginny isn't dead?" George whispered.

"We can't take a word of what he says at face value," Percy insisted, his one eye roving over the group. "We need to remember that."

"He is quite right," Grindelwald said with a frown. "You have no reason to trust me. But I think you'll find that hope is more powerful than fear, and that fear is what you are fighting."

Everyone fell silent after that. The ticking of the regular clock was all that prevailed through to their ears.

"How do we find her?" Bill asked.

"I don't know," Grindelwald replied immediately.

"When did you see her?" said Fred, stepping forward.

"On August 11th,"

"Her birthday," Ron observed.

Grindelwald nodded.

"She could have died since then," Bill muttered quietly.

"He's a seer you dolt," Percy retorted, unexpectedly.

A blood-curdling scream rang out from outside, interrupting the discussion. Grindelwald shot to his feet and drew his wand while Bill, Percy, and the twins did the same.

"It's him," Grindelwald growled. "Stay behind me,"

Ron didn't know what world he was living in as he fell into step behind Gellert Grindelwald and his brothers, out to the grave by the pond.

There, suspended in the air, was Ron's mum. His dad was sending spells at a furious pace, at a tall man with pearly white skin, and blood-red eyes.

It was Voldemort. His wand in one hand and a white rose in the other. He was batting away Ron's father's spells with little more than a slight frown on his face.

He hadn't noticed the approaching brigade.

Grindelwald threw a bright pink spell at Voldemort, who caught it just in time, messily deflecting it to the ground in front of him, causing him to stumble backward.

Ron's dad didn't stop the volley of spells and paid for it dearly. Voldemort had met his match, whether he knew who it was yet or not. There was no more time for silly games. He sent a spell to Arthur Weasley, who took it straight to the chest, collapsing to the ground, stunned.

"WHO DARES?" Voldemort screeched. Holding his wand at Grindelwald. Then, comprehension reached his eyes, and Voldemort changed his stance, ready for a true fight.

"Hello, Tom," Grindelwald greeted.

Voldemort's breathing calmed. "You do not know who I am. You do not know what I have done. You do not hold any right to call me by that name," he waved his wand and sent Ron's mother straight to the ground with a sickening crack.

"MUM!" Ron cried, but Bill held him back from running to her.

"Not yet! Not yet! He could kill you," Bill hissed in his ear.

"You're right, I don't," Grindelwald admitted. "But I believe it is equally as unjust of me to refer to you as Voldemort,"

Ron and the brothers gasped, waiting for the familiar pops of apparition for the taboo.

Except they never came.

Voldemort seemed equally as shocked by the lack of a response, and lifted his wand into an attack position.

"How?" he said, simply.

Grindelwald shook his head. "I don't reveal my secrets to an illusion. That is all you are. A man living in an illusion of another's. You are Tom Riddle, though maybe not yet, you will be. Voldemort is dying, and you know it."

Voldemort's breathing sped up again, his face contorted into a snarl. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he bellowed, the green spell traveling straight to Grindelwald had an electrifying effect on Ron. He immediately jumped out of the way, bowling his brothers over in the process. They rolled down the slope to the pond, some of them falling into the water.

Ron immediately crawled on his stomach to the top of the miniature ridge to see what had happened.

Grindelwald had stepped out of the way. It was as simple as that. The traveling speed of the curse was slow, and Ron could still see the green bolt of magic barreling to the burrow. It crashed into the wooden surface of the ground floor, creating a large hole where the door once was.

"Don't take your anger out on your failure's family," Grindelwald spat, raising his wand in return and sending various colourful spells. They were all minor, all deflected easily, but it was keeping Voldemort on his toes.

They were both quiet, nothing but a constant exchange of spells faster than Ron could count. They were two masters of their craft, sidestepping and spinning to evade the spells their shields had missed. Grindelwald would occasionally jump in the air like a great black cloud and weave between spells.

He could fly.

Though it had been something Bill and Percy had described, it was horrifying to see in person.

Fred, George, Bill, and Percy had joined him on the edge of the hill to the pond. Their mother was in view, crumpled on the ground behind Ginny's grave.

Just as Ron was going to make a run for the body, a tremendous roar destroyed the near silence. An eruption of flame from Voldemort's wand flew high into the sky. A coiling snake of fire with fangs as tall as trees soared through the air before falling to the orchard with a crash. It hissed and thrashed about on the ground.

Grindelwald apparated a few steps back and conjured blue flames to rival Voldemort's orange. First a head, then wings, then a long winding tail. A great blue dragon, as large as the snake, landed on The Burrow's property line.

The two conjured beasts roared at each other before charging. Each tearing apart the other. The dragon grabbed the snake with its legs and hoisted it into the air, the setting sun lighting the battle brilliantly as fire clashed with fire.

The snake coiled around the dragon, forcing its wings close to its body.

The two were forced to fall, slamming into the earth and sending shockwaves to the brothers and the two wizards, who had resumed their own personal duel all while controlling their fires.

The fiendfyre seemed to dissipate only to reform from its own ashes like some reverse flame.

Ron saw his opportunity and took it. He shot to his feet and ran as fast as his gangly legs could carry him to his mother by the grave. He slid on the grass, ripping it up and destroying the well-manicured lawns to get behind the most cover he could properly find.

"Mum?" he asked, tears forming at the back of his eyes at the very thought of the possibility that his mother could be dead.

He brought his fingers to her jugular and felt for a pulse.

He glanced up to keep with the battle and saw that Fred and George were rushing back to the cover provided by the lead-in to the pond with their father carried between them.

One parent recovered.

He couldn't feel anything under his fingers, so he changed pressure points.

"MUM!" he shouted into her face. Her legs were horribly crippled, but it was nothing a healer couldn't fix.

Then, he felt it. The slow steady beat of his mother's heart.

Just then, the crackling of lightning and the rolling of thunder met his ears, and his eyes locked back onto the battle.

Grindelwald held a hand up to the heavens, his wand focused on Voldemort, throwing spell after spell. Lightning was forming in a storm that hadn't been there before. Its power charged while the conjured flames raged on in the forests around The Burrow.

Fire was everywhere, rain was pouring down in a fine line where Grindelwald's attack was charging.

Ron started trying to move his mother, but she was a lot heavier than he thought she'd be. He couldn't hear anything but the spells, the fire, and the lightning.

A hand landed on his back, and he found Bill and Percy with him, helping him carry their mother down to the bank of the pond.

The lightning bolt seemed ready, and Voldemort had nothing to counter it. It shot from the sky right on target. Colliding with Voldemort and shooting thousands of pounds of dirt high into the air. Grindelwald stood there, his dragon dissipating along with Voldemort's snake.

Everything was on fire. The Burrow seemed to be the only thing that had been saved, miraculously, from much damage.

They refused to move, however. Waiting for some sort of sign from Grindelwald that it was safe to come out of hiding.

They waited for many minutes before they heard the crunching of leaves and the click of shoes.

"He's gone," Grindelwald said, sitting back on his haunches and fiddling with his wand between his hands. He didn't seem remotely exhausted. "He won't come back."

"Are you sure?" Bill asked, getting to his feet and folding his arms over his chest.

Grindelwald nodded. "Besides, you can renew the protections over your property. They were open for the funeral, I expect,"

"Yeah," Bill confirmed.

"Here, let me help," Grindelwald offered, gesturing to their mother.

Ron held on tighter, moving away from Grindelwald. "Don't lay a finger on her,"

Grindelwald sighed and shook his head. "I could have killed you more times than you could count. I've been here since before any of you woke up… why would I harm your mother,"

"Don't lay a finger on her," Ron repeated.

Grindelwald backed off, hands raised in surrender. "Remember what I said about your sister. Remember what I said about hope."

He was fading away, like some sort of mirage in the desert. It was not how people apparated, nor how Grindelwald could fly. It was something different entirely.

"What about the other part?" Bill challenged. "About her husbands?"

Grindelwald's fading paused. "There are futures in which she chooses one, while there are many in which she chooses the other. Addiction is a tricky thing. Especially if the easy way out is offered more than it is not,"

Then he was gone. Faded out in some unnatural form of magic none of them had ever witnessed before.

"Ginny's alive," George said to the group at large. His eyes bulged out of his head.

The roar of the forest fires around them continued, and hundreds of questions burned in Ron's mind. Why did Voldemort agree to leave them alone? Why had he come with a flower for Ginny's grave?

What did they not know?

In the end, Ron didn't care.

Ginny was alive.

A/N: When I brought back Grindelwald, I knew he and Tom had to fight at least once. So here is the first time that happens. It's relatively tame compared to the next time, but still.

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