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Category: Alternate Universe, Asylum Challenge (2013-3), Asylum Challenge (2013-3) Characters:Albus Dumbledore, All, Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Lily Potter, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Other, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Disturbing Imagery, Violence Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 105 Summary: *** Winner of Best Overall, Best Drama and the People’s Choice Award in the Asylum Challenge *** *Nominated for 2014 April/May and November/December DSTA for Best Romance and Best Drama* *Nominated for 2016 January/February DSTA for Best Drama and Best Completed* Ginny's plans for the weekend were just perfect: a day out in Hogsmeade with her girlfriends. Spend the morning window shopping and wishing, then lunch at the Three Broomsticks, and then to the local theater for a production of the Scottish Play (Macbeth). Unfortunately, the bad luck of the Scottish Play strikes before it even starts. The village is invaded by Death Eaters, Dementors, and a man she had hoped to never see again in her life. And in the middle of the battle, Ginny sees something she'd never thought she'd see. Voldemort and one of her greatest friends dueling; Harry Potter and Voldemort fighting so fiercely, she lost focus on her own battle. Harry Potter, crying out, falling, and hitting the ground. Dead. And then, someone she never expected to help her saves her from Voldemort’s wrath. Hitcount: Story Total: 169252; Chapter Total: 7333 |
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The Hogsmeade Attack This weekend started out perfect; I'd saved up money from babysitting and working for Fred and George over the summer to afford a few new sets of robes, and I was spending the day in Hogsmeade with my friends. We spent the morning window-shopping in some of the more expensive stores, and spent a few galleons in some of the cheaper ones. We ate lunch at the Three Broomsticks, and started down High Street to the theater to see Macbeth. That's when perfect turned into disastrous. Screams ripped the air, people started pushing, running in every direction except towards the end of Main Street. The air, which moments before had been showing signs of Indian summer turned cold as ice. I froze where I stood. My friends had already run off in the direction of Hogwarts. Within seconds, the reason why everyone was running became clear. Dementors were pouring into Hogsmeade, along with masked and cloaked wizards. “Death Eaters,” I muttered. They were already throwing curses and spells, aiming to kill; a man to my left was hit in the back with a jet of green light. “Ginny!” Someone screamed my name. I recognized it, and ran in the direction of the voice, pausing only to throw a stunning spell over my shoulder. I could see Ron, Hermione, and Harry crouching behind an upended table, casting and dodging spells. I darted across the road to them, and skidded to a stop beside Ron. He grabbed my arm. “Are you okay?” he asked. Harry straightened and cast a curse towards the Death Eaters. “I’m fine,” I breathed. I jumped up, and hurled a Bat-Bogey Hex at the Death Eaters. I heard a satisfying scream of shock and terror as the hex made whose ever I hit bogies attack a multitude of Death Eaters. “Where did they come from?” “Far end of the village, Portkeys probably,” said Harry. “Dumbledore thought they would attack any day now.” “I thought there were Aurors in the village!” Hermione said. “There were!” answered Harry. “They probably took them out first. Cover me,” he added to Ron; Harry darted out from behind the table, ran towards Zonko’s while Ron and Hermione cast hex after hex towards the enemy. He ducked inside the joke shop, and stayed there. There were Dementors gliding forward, coming closer and closer, passing through the deluge of spells as if they were nothing more than a few annoying gnats. I felt nausea stir in my stomach, then my brain began to get fuzzy. A stunning spell passed two inches from my right ear as I cast a Reductor Curse at another table the Death Eaters were using for cover. A Dementor separated from the group, and glided along the ground toward us. “Expecto Patronum!” I yelled, conjuring an image of Christmas dinner at the Burrow last year in my mind. Silver vapor poured from my wand tip, however it faded before even nearing the fast approaching Dementor. “Expecto Patronum,” I repeated. Vapor again. Christmas dinner with my family at Grimmald Place turned to my first Halloween at Hogwarts, paint and feathers covering my robes. Mrs. Norris petrified. “Expecto Patronum!” I said, thinking of my eleventh birthday, when I received my Hogwarts letter. Mere vapor again, but the Dementor slowed as the vapor reached it. I heard Ron yell the incantation, and saw a silver terrier burst from his wand, and charge the Dementor. It halted as the little dog reached it, yapping and growling. But the Dementor waved a rotting, gray hand, and Ron’s Patronus dissipated. Hermione tried. Her silver otter didn’t even make five feet away before it too, faded. A second Dementor joined the first, and the two of them slowly approached us. I shut my eyes, and focused on my memory of the Yule Ball, two years ago. I focused hard on the feeling of dressing up and going, of dancing and the laughter at Fred and George dancing with each other. Keeping my eyes closed, I pointed my wand, and whispered, “Expecto Patronum.” Even with my eyes closed. I knew it had not worked. Ron tugged on my arm, I looked. He and Hermione were standing, Hermione running for safety, Ron pulling me up. The sounds of the battle died. The Dementors’ rattling breath filled my ears. Ron’s lips moved, but I could not hear him. Hermione, now standing in the doorway to Zonko’s shouted something. Ron gave me a look of fear, and pleading, before turning, and running to join Hermione. I stood. Curses, hexes, and jinxes sailed past me, not one hitting me. The Dementors hovered over the ground not fifteen feet away. One drifted closer. I raised my wand, my arm trembling. The Dementor hissed, baring long fangs. No, no, it wasn’t the Dementor. It was something much worse. Tom Riddle whispered in my ear, his breath raising goose-bumps along my skin, complimenting me. Tom took my hand. “Come with me,” he said. “We’ll rid the world of the unworthy together.” I flashed back to my first year at Hogwarts. The feeling of being alone. The way I felt like no one understood me. No one but Tom. Tom understood. Tom knew what it was like. His words were soft, comforting. Then, the sick, resentful feeling of the person who disrupted my fantasy. “No,” I said. “No, go away.” The Dementors crept closer. They soon were joined by more, and they surrounded me. Tom put his arm around my shoulders, a handsome smile curling his lips. “You can be my Queen, Ginevra. You can stand at my right hand, ruling the world.” “I — I don’t want to.” “Yes you do,” Tom murmured. “You want to be praised. You want to be wanted. You want someone to call you beautiful. I can give you that, and more.” “No.” “You are beautiful, Ginevra. You deserve what I’m offering you.” I trembled as Tom cupped my cheek. His touch was cold, and uninviting. His dark eyes were alight with desire and ambition. Also with malice. “I’m offering you what no one else can. I’m offering you the world.” My body shook with fear. I fell to my knees, looking up at him. “You needn’t bow to me, Ginevra. We are equals.” I looked away. His dark, handsome features, enticing voice, and smooth words were too much. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying the Dementors would leave me. I opened them again, to see Tom kneeling beside me. “I need you with me, Ginevra,” he whispered. “You are my Queen.” In the back of my mind, I heard my name being called. I heard people outside of my ring of Dementors calling me. “I promise to be faithful,” Tom said. He was moving closer now. “I promise to fulfill your every desire.” “Ginny!” “Don’t listen to them, they want to discourage you,” Tom said, returning his palm to my cheek. “They are jealous of your potential.” “Ginny, get out of there!” “They’re afraid of you, of what you can do,” Tom said. “I’m afraid,” I whispered. “I know,” Tom said. “I can show how to forsake fear. I can teach you things others could never imagine.” “Ginny, I’m coming for you!” My mind registered these words, and I realized it was Harry’s voice. Tom’s handsome features flickered from cool persuasion to anger, and then back to the former. “Follow me,” Tom said. “Pledge your life to me!” The Dementors shifted. I heard voices yelling the Patronus Charm. One voice rang out above the others. Harry’s voice. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” A bright, silver stag burst through the circle of floating horrors, scattering them like splinters. Tom’s features twisted with rage. “Pledge yourself!” Tom insisted, grabbing my arms and shaking me. “No, no, I can’t. I mustn’t,” I whimpered. The stag charged Tom. The image broke and faded, a hallucination dissipating in the wind. The stag nudged me. Get up, it said. Run, it said. I stood shakily, my eyes on Harry’s Patronus. Harry himself ran up to me just then. “What you doing, come on!” he said. My eyes drifted away from the stag, to the line of Death Eaters advancing on us. Tom was leading them. Except, he didn’t quite look like Tom. No, he was older, less handsome, more frightening. “We have to get out of here, let’s go,” Harry insisted. He turned to follow my gaze, and his face paled. “Get out of here, Ginny,” Harry said, stepping in front of me. My mind clicked. I stepped out from behind him. “You’re coming with me,” I said. “I have to fight him.” “Then I’m fighting him, too.” “No! Run, get to Ron and Hermione, they’ll protect you.” “I’m staying, I have to help you!” He turned to me. “That’s Voldemort, Ginny. Not a regular Death Eater. Voldemort!” “I’ve fought him too, I can fight him again!” “That wasn’t really him, it was a memory! Now run!” The Death Eaters were twenty feet away now. Part of me wanted to run, but the rest of me was filled with anger. Anger directed towards the beast of a man before me, that had single handedly ended my childhood. “I’m staying, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Voldemort stopped, twenty yards from us. “Well, well, well,” he purred. “What have we here? A damsel in distress and her brave knight in shining armor?” Harry moved forward slightly, putting himself between Voldemort and me. “Leave her alone,” Harry snapped. “Ah, chivalry, is it? Risking yourself to save her pretty little neck?” “I’ll give up my own life before letting you hurt anyone else to get to me!” Harry spat. “Oh, is that so?” Voldemort murmured, his voice silky, his tone dangerous. “I can arrange that, you know. With one teensy flick of my wand.” Voldemort raised his wand, turning it in his long, skeletal fingers. “I’ll fight you,” Harry growled, holding his own wand aloft. “And of course you will,” Voldemort said, his eyes narrowing and his already slit pupils dilating. “But, can you fight two?” [DA HELL WAS I THINKING FUTURE SELF THOUGH FIX THIS I DON’T WANNA RIGHT NOW] Tom stepped out from the ranks of the Death Eaters; handsome and young, his dark, brooding eyes rested on me. The look on his face was one of pure evil, pure lust. And he was looking right at me. Harry faltered. Voldemort and Tom both smiled. “Yes, you feel it don’t you, Potter,” they said in creepy unison. “The Angel of Death approaches.” Voldemort and Tom opened fire. Harry pulled me behind him as he shouted “Protego Maxima!” Two curses hit his shield at once, and it shattered. I shot a stunning spell at Tom, but his deflected it easily with a quick shield charm. Immediately, our targets were made. I was after Tom, and Harry was after Voldemort. As we fought, I noticed the ring of Death Eaters forming around us, and the lack of allies. The village had emptied, everyone had fled, leaving us alone. My sights were set on Tom. Cast a curse. Dodge his. Throw a stinging hex at him, and throw up a shield charm. Fling a Bat Bogey Hex at him, another shield. My brain shut down, my gut took over. I moved on instinct, dropping, dodging, and rolling out of the way of each of Tom’s jinxes and curses. With my each evasive move, Tom grew more and more frustrated. His hexes grew more erratic, his aim sloppy. He was drunk on power, but his bottle was empty. Tom glared at me, and cast a curse. I side-stepped it, but a fragment of red light brushed past my hand. One fragment. I dropped to the ground, pure agony erupting in my arm, spreading up to my shoulder, to my chest, to the rest of my body. It felt like someone had dumped me into a vat of white hot boiling acid. My skin felt like it would melt right off my bones. Tom laughed. I screamed loud enough to rip my throat to pieces. The pain was too intense; I was going to die. Then it was gone, just as quickly as it had come. I opened my eyes, not knowing I had closed them. Tom stood over me, a maniacal and triumphant grin twisting his features grotesquely. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the curtain call, now would we?” he hissed. He grabbed my arm and pulled me roughly off the ground. My eyes fell on Voldemort, laughing, as he pointed his wand at Harry, who stood stock still, staring at me, an expression of complete horror on his face. “It’s time for you to die, Potter,” Voldemort crooned. Harry didn’t move. My heart cried out to him, begging him to move, but my lips and tongue lacked the energy to form the words. I sagged in Tom’s grip, praying that Voldemort would gloat a little longer, so I could gain back some strength, and fling myself between Harry and the Dark Lord, so I could protect him. But I didn’t have the chance. Dementors had gathered around us, as those accursed lips formed the curse that, while Harry survived it once, I was sure he could not live through again. “Avada Kedavra!” I screamed again. The light left Harry’s eyes. He crumpled. I shook. I shoved Tom away from me, shock pouring through me. Tom and Voldemort laughed while I screamed. I staggered to Harry’s side. He lay still. “Harry,” I whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes. His glasses were askew. He was… Dead. I stared blankly at him. Tears dripped onto his face. Shock turned to grief. Grief turned to anger. Anger turned to rage. I blinked away my tears, and rose to my feet. My vision suddenly tinted red, and I turned to face Voldemort. He was still laughing. “CRUCIO!” The incantation left my lips before Voldemort even realized I was pointing my wand at him. He grunted, but it seemed my curse was weak. Voldemort straightened, glaring at me. He jabbed his wand in my direction; I was too limp to dodge it. I fell to my knees, ropes appearing at my wrists and ankles. “You could have been powerful,” he panted. His eyes were bloodshot, and red as he leveled his wand at my heart. “Now you must die.” “Any last words?” Tom asked. I glanced around. All I could see were Death Eaters, and Dementors. My back was to a crumbling shop front, beside me was the dead body of Harry Potter. “Go, kill me,” I whispered. “We’ve lost.” I heard Voldemort laugh. “You admit defeat, very good.” Cold fingers gripped my face and jerked it upward. I stared into Voldemort’s red eyes, glinting with his victory, then spat in his face. He recoiled immediately, then struck my cheek with the back of his hand. “Even in defeat, you still have spite,” he said softly. “No matter. Harry Potter is dead. I have triumphed, defeated Harry Potter at last! Huzzah!” “Huzzah!” came the cry of the Death Eaters. “Harry Potter is dead!” “Huzzah!” “I have achieved victory, just as it has been foretold,” Voldemort said. I looked up at him, my brow furrowing, as he went on. “Let this be known, such is the power of love and infatuation; Harry Potter has fallen because he was too distracted by a pretty face!” He threw up his hands, and cried again: “Huzzah!” “Huzzah!” Lord Voldemort turned back to me. “In his worry for your safety, foolish girl, I have finally killed the Boy Who Lived. Are those tears?” Voldemort bent forward, and wiped the pad of his thumb across my cheek. I leaned away from him, and he chuckled. He rubbed my tear between a forefinger and thumb, a malicious smile curling his lips. “Thank you, Ginny,” Voldemort said. “You have saved me a great deal of hard work.” “I hope you burn in hell,” I whispered. Voldemort laughed. “Such fire, such anger… it is commendable, regretful even that you so stubbornly allied with Harry Potter. Had you pledged your allegiance to me, you would have been granted much glory.” “I wouldn’t pledge the dirt under my nails to you.” Voldemort’s eyes narrowed. “It matters not, for I am going to kill you regardless. My goal has been achieved, and faster than I expected it would be.” “Then kill me,” I said in a flat tone. “You wish death so quickly? Well, I am a merciful Lord; I grant death to those who desire it. Once again, I thank you for your help in killing Potter. Say hello to him for me in the afterlife.” Voldemort raised his wand; I squeezed my eyes shut, I didn’t want to see the curse coming. A tight feeling wrapped around my chest, a swooping sensation filled my stomach then clenched. Was this dying? “Open your eyes.” My brow knit together; hesitantly, I cracked open one eye. “Malfoy?” I said. |
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