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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: 169239; Chapter Total: 4870 Author's Notes: Please review! |
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Test Three I trudged down the hill, towards the sprawling mound of a tomb, tucked between two of Ireland's hills. Lucius walked ahead of me, with the book open in his hands, muttering to himself. Bill walked beside me, his arm around my shoulders keeping me up. I had not slept well the previous night. Alasdair walked behind me, his wand drawn. “What's test three all about?” I called to Lucius. He did not answer. “Malfoy!” “You cannot know!” he snapped. “You must be in an ignorant state of mind for it to work.” “More like agitated,” I mumbled. Bill chuckled. I did not smile. “Why though?” Alasdair asked. I glanced back at him. He was frowning. “In order for the test to work, she may not know what she's facing,” Lucius snapped. “Stop badgering me.” I scowled. “Stupid test,” I mumbled. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, trying to ward off the chilly fog that hung in the air like an animal breathing down my back. Like a demon. A flash of an image entered my mind, a giant beast looming over me, laughing. I shook my head jerkily. I had to stay focused. But as I pushed away the image, another flashed before me. The dream I had of Harry, dangling from the rope. It left as quickly as it came, but I stumbled. Bill caught my arm, keeping me from falling to the ground. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Fine,” I lied, forcing a smile. Bill smiled in reply, though his smile was weary. We reached the bottom of the hill, and Lucius stopped outside the tomb entrance. He turned to me, and glanced down at his book. “There is nothing I can do to prepare you,” he said. “When you enter, you should find a potion table before you, with a recipe. Follow the recipe as best you can. I don't know what it will call for, but all the ingredients should be there.” “Wait,” I said, “aren't you going in with me?” Lucius shook his head. “You must enter alone the test and only with the pieces and your wand.” He pressed the pieces into my hands. “There is a warning in the book I am allowed to share with you. If something is in the circles of the test, you can't create it.” “What?” “I don't understand what it means either.” “Do I go now?” “Yes.” Lucius glanced at the tomb entrance and back at me. His shoulders slumped as he looked at me. “I don't know what will be in there,” he said. “But there will be something to fight you. The test is layered, one test on top of another. The book says there are seven of them, called the Seven Circles, each twice as difficult as the last. That much I can say. Be strong, Ginny.” I opened my mouth, but there were no words flowing from my brain to my mouth, so I shut it again. I nodded, and stepped towards the entrance. I glanced at Bill, and he waved me on. “You can do this, Firefly,” he said. I gave him a smile, even though my heart was pounding in my chest and I felt like throwing up. I turned towards the door, and pulled it open. There was no light inside. Fear raised a red flag in the back of my mind. I ignored it. I stepped inside, and the door swung shut behind me. I shivered in the cold air. No light seeped through from the outside to me. I raised my wand. I couldn't even see my hand through the pitch blackness. “Lumos,” I whispered. My wand tip glowed. And then it went out. “Lumos!” I repeated, feeling panic start up in my stomach. My wand remained dark. The fear in the back of my mind took a more insistent presence. “Fear of the dark is one thing that makes you unworthy.” I froze as the woman's voice struck my ears.. “Who's there?” A single ray of light appeared in front of me. A candle, held in the hands of a dark figure. I surged towards it; something knocked me back. “You're weak! Useless!” the figure yelled at me. I struggled to my feet. “Who are you?” I yelled. “Defiant. Rebellious. Disobedient. You're a child.” I pressed forward, but the something held me back. “You don't deserve that light, weakling.” I felt the fear ebb, and anger replace it. “Show yourself!” “Rude as well. You would have done better to throw yourself off a cliff than dare disrupt my rest.” “I had to,” I said. “Don't make excuses!” “I'm not making excuses,” I snapped. “I need to get Harry back.” “Bah! Let him stay dead. Death is better than what that child deserves.” The fear vanished. I pushed against the force, straining, not to get at the light, but to strangle the figure holding the flame. The something pushed just as hard, but my anger pushed me harder. I shoved it away, and lunged at the figure. My hands closed on her cloak, and the figure dissolved. The candle fell to the ground, and the flame went out. Suddenly all around me, torches flared to life. I looked around, my grip on my wand tightening. I stood in a circular room, lined with mirrors. I saw my reflection in one. My hair was tangled, my clothes rumpled. I was pale, as though my skin hadn't seen the light of day in weeks. I looked scared and weary. My reflection vanished. I frowned, looking around. All the mirrors refused to show me anymore. And then, I saw Harry in the mirror. His arm stretched out, his face showed surprise and delight. His mouth moved, forming words I could not hear. I ran for him, but then all the mirrors lit up with his image. I froze in the middle of the room, startled. His hand pressed against the glass. Next to him, his mouth moved again. I still could not hear him. “Twelve of these are mirrors,” said the woman's voice. “One is a window.” I glanced around, trying to find the window. “To find out, you must break the glass. If you break the glass in the window, you move on. If you break a mirror, well, let's just say something bad happens.” I gulped. “How do I tell?” “Which one pulls you more?” I glanced around. All the images were of Harry, and a moment ago they were all identical, mirroring each others movements, but now they shifted and changed. Next to me a Harry pounded on his glass, but across from me Harry had his hands cupped around his mouth, his mouth working furiously. I turned slowly on the spot. All of the Harry's wanted to get out, obviously. One caught my eye. In this glass, Harry wasn't shouting. He wasn't pounding on the glass, he wasn't begging me. He simply had his hand pressed against the glass, looking at me with sorrow and longing in his eyes. I stepped towards him. All around me, other Harry's redoubled their efforts to catch my attention. I raised a hand, and pressed it against the glass over Harry's hand. The glass shattered. The mirrors all vanished. I stood in an arena, with a spot light shining down over me. I look around, and I find my next test. I stand ten feet from me. An exact copy. I step towards my copy. My copy steps toward me. “Well done, Ginevra. You passed to the third circle. This test will be infinitely more difficult than your past tests. You fight hand-to-hand with someone at your exact level. Yourself. To move on, you must defeat yourself.” Suddenly my copy lunged at me, hands outstretched and a look of calm on her face. I dodged, and swung my fist. My copy ducked under my arm and swept my leg out from beneath me. I grabbed her shoulders as I fell to the ground, taking her with me. My copy landed a punch, her knuckles sinking into the soft flesh of my stomach, the wind was knocked out of me. Wheezing, I kicked her as hard as I could. She rolled away and jumped to her feet. I did too. I feigned left with a punch and brought my right fist towards her stomach. She caught my right fist and dodged my left, and shoved me away. I stumbled back. She hesitated, waiting for my attack. Which is what I was doing. I stepped to my left. My double mirrored me. So, my copy had all of my skill, which to be honest with myself, wasn't as good as it could be, and she had all of my tactics. I stepped forward, raising a fist. She darted forward and grabbed my hand, preventing me from striking. I used her distraction to knee her hard in the gut. She was caught off guard and bent double, gasping as I knocked the wind out of her. I jumped back. She limped away. My copy was not invincible. Nor was I. I shifted my weight between my feet, thinking quickly. My copy sucked in a breath, trying to recover quickly. My copy had my every move inside her head, so I racked my brains to think of something that wasn't like me. I had once gotten myself into a fistfight as a child, outside the village near my house, against a boy much bigger and heavier than me. I had lost, with a good shiner and cracked knuckles. I fast-forwarded the memory, playing through it, thinking through what I had seen. Where had I gone wrong? When did I start to lose? The boy had punched me hard in the stomach. He knocked me down. While I was still on the ground, trying to catch my breath, he had attacked, which I had thought was unfair. I had started loosing then. My copy was still trying to catch her breath. She expected me to stay back, trying to recover from my own weaknesses, because that was what I was doing. Quick as a flash, I darted forward and swung my fist. My knuckles caught my copy's cheek, knocking her back. While she was startled, I swung my other fist, making contact with her stomach, her weak point. She tried to stay strong, but I knocked the breath back out of her. I kicked hard at her knee, sending her crumpling to the ground. I felt my breath coming in ragged gasps. My copy wheezed on the ground. I had knocked her down. Now what? I stepped back, waiting for the arena to disappear. Nothing happened. “She will not stay down long,” the woman called. “End her now, while she is down.” I stiffened. “End her?” At my side, a low table appeared. On it, glimmering in the light of the spotlight, lay a dagger. “Do it now.” My copy lay on the ground, weak. I stared between the dagger on the table and my double, shock slowing my brain. My copy pushed herself up, and drew back her fists. I was too stunned to move. My copy lunged for me, I stepped out of her reach, and her momentum carried her past me. I grabbed her arm as she past, and twisted it. She gasped, I heard a faint pop and let go quickly. My copy grabbed her shoulder, wincing. I pressed my hands to my mouth, horrified at what I had done. She drew back her sleeve, exposing her shoulder. It looked all wrong. I had dislocated it, it seemed. She rubbed at it, her face twisted with pain. I heard another, gruesome pop as she jerked her arm out, and her shoulder popped back in place. “It seems you have the power in you to kill her with your bare hands, weakling,” the woman said. “So take the dagger now, and kill her before she kills you.” I glanced at the dagger. My copy did too. I saw her eyes widen with fear as the realization hit her. I guessed my own eyes were wide as dinner plates as well. Was I prepared to kill to save Harry? My copy's eyes met mine. She stepped swiftly away from me, fear plain on her face. Did I look like that? I glanced at the dagger. When my eyes returned to my double, she was in a fighting stance, her face twisted both with pain and fear now. I raised my fists slowly. Had I injured her so badly? My double darted towards me. She brought her fist forward, aiming for my stomach. I blocked her best I could, but her knuckles made contact with my side. I felt the pain as the impact jarred me. I punched her, hard, striking her nose. It was hard, and cold behind my knuckles. She fell back, hands clutching her face. When she lowered them, I saw blood flowing from her nostrils. I glanced down at my knuckles. The were bloody as well. My copy shot towards me, her hands outstretched. She knocked me down; I hit the ground with a yelp. Her hands closed around my throat. I let out a strangled gasp of surprise. Her face showed shock and fear, not anger. Her fingers squeezed gently, not enough to cut off my airways, but enough to scare me. I saw a glimmer of metal out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head, and saw the dagger lying on the ground right beside me. I snatched it up, and my copy gasped. She jumped up, staggering backwards, away from me and my weapon. I kicked at her; she cringed away, but my foot caught her in the side, sending her sprawling to the ground. I stepped towards her. My shadow fell over her face. Her wide eyes locked on mine. I raised the dagger. “Do it!” the woman encouraged. “Defeat her, while you have the chance.” My arm shook. I glanced at it. The dagger trembled in my hand. My whole arm vibrated, whether with adrenaline or fear, I could not tell. My copy let out a low whimper. I looked down at her; she closed her eyes, seeming to accept her fate. Was I willing to shatter my soul to rescue another? Was I willing to kill an innocent to save my match? The dagger fell out of my hand. It fell to earth, hitting the ground with a clatter. “No,” I whispered, stepping back. My copy opened her eyes, surprise on her face. “No?” the woman asked. “NO!” I yelled. “I won't!” And then, suddenly, my copy smiled, startling me. Her body turned to dust, crumbling, mixing with the earthen ground. The dagger disintegrated, the table broke down, and the light dimmed. “Perhaps you are not weak after all,” murmured the woman. “What?” I looked around, confused. “The third circle has been passed,” said the woman. “You have had luck on your side, so far. The fourth circle won't be as easy.” I blinked, as the arena faded before my eyes. “This was supposed to be easy?” “Compared to the rest, it is.” I swallowed nervously. “What's the point of all this?” I called. I was met with silence. “Hello?” I said. “The fourth circle is prepared for you,” the woman said. “Step forward.” A door appeared before me. I stepped towards it, when another door appeared on my left. “Choose to move on to the fourth circle.” I looked between the two doors. Choose? Hadn't I done a 'pick one' already? “Choose, unless you want to stay here forevermore.” The doors were identical. Basically, she was asking me if I wanted to go left or right. I turned to the door on the right, examining the wood. There were little images carved into the wood, meaningless pictures of people and animals, dancing around bonfires and drinking from goblets. I saw detailed grape vines and ivy crawling up the wood. I turned my attention on the left door. It too had images carved into the wood, but unlike the other one, there were no people dancing, no vines, no fires carved into the wood. There were flowers carved on the edges, but nothing else other than a simple picture in the center. I touched it, letting the wood cool my fingers. Two people, standing side by side. I dropped my hand to the brass doorknob. It was cool in my fingers. I thought a moment,and backed away. I touched the other door's knob, and jerked my hand back in surprise. It was hot. I glanced between the two doors. One was warm to touch, one was not. One had visions of people and flames carved into the wood, one had only flowers and two people. One was left, one was right. One was right, one was wrong. I turned slowly to the left. I stretched out a hand to the knob, and turned it slowly. I opened the door. I heard low laughter above me. “Whatever you may be, you are not unintelligent. I applaud that. Let us see if you can handle the fourth circle.” I stepped through the door. It slammed behind me, shoving me forward. I rubbed my rump, turning to glare at the door, but it was gone. I looked around. I stood on a mountain top, and beneath me, a vast city sprawled over the rolling hills. “Stay.” “What?” “Stay where you are.” “Why?” “In that city is an abundance of food. There is every good thing you could imagine.” As she spoke, I felt my stomach rumble in hunger. I had not eaten since we left Israel. “If you were to go down there, you would be welcomed with open arms. They would feed you, give you fresh clothes and safety. There is nothing in that city to harm you.” My stomach growled rebelliously. I ignored it. “What's the catch?” “There is no catch. If you were to go down now, you would be given everything you desire.” “Everything?” “Anything your weak mortal heart could desire.” I felt a twinge of annoyance at the jib, but the annoyance was drowned by my stomach howling. I placed a hand on it, looking down. “Go on, I would not blame you if you were to desire the city's options. You would be given riches beyond compare.” “There has to be something bad,” I said. “Nothing is that perfect.” “No, no wrongs are done in that city.” I frowned. “Why am I here?” “Go down there now, and they would treat you like a queen.” “Who's there?” “Whomever you wish.” An idea sprung up in the back of my mind. “Would Harry be there?” Silence. And then, “No. The city can recreate everything you wish for but him. That is the only limit. You would be given any man you desire in his place. Anything, anyone. You may even see your dear departed grandfather again.” My grandfather? I hadn't thought about him in years. He had died before I started at Hogwarts. I had always adored him. If I could see him again... My stomach rumbled again. I massaged it gently as I thought. “The city has everything you could want.” “Everything but Harry,” I whispered. “True, but it is at peace. There are no wars here. No dark wizards. No bad dreams. Not even fear.” Fear? I thought of last night, of my huddling in the tent, afraid of shadows. Could that city keep me safe from the shadow I heard? “Nothing could harm you,” the woman said. “Not even demons can penetrate the defenses of the city.” I felt hope enter me. I would be safe there. But I wouldn't have Harry. “Could I just visit?” I asked. “I suppose you could, but once you enter the city, you will never want to leave.” I looked down at the valley beneath me. The city sparkled in the morning sun. It seemed so tempting... But Harry wouldn't be there. And if what my tester said was true, I would never want to leave the city once I set foot in it. “Your family waits for you. Your brother, Ron, was it? He waits for you, whole and healed. Don't you want to see your family again? Don't you want to see your dear grandfather? He's waiting for you, with open arms.” I looked down at the city. It would be great to see Grandpa Weasley again. But Harry wouldn't be there. “You'd have your selection of men, anyone you wanted.” “But I want Harry,” I said. “You can create your own man, if you wanted. Pick through a selection of looks and characteristics, create the perfect man. He could be just like Harry, if you want.” I was sorely tempted. The city sounded perfect. But even if I made a man who was identical to Harry, he wouldn't be him, not really. “Am I supposed to go down there?” I asked. “How do I move on to the fifth circle?” “You don't want to go to the city?” “No.” “Why ever not?” “Harry wouldn't be there,” I said. “And it wouldn't be real.” “It would be as real as you want.” “No it wouldn't!” I said. “It would be an illusion! How do I pass this circle?” “Very well.” The city faded. The mountain did too. “It seems you are determined,” said the woman, her voice penetrating the nothingness of my new surroundings. “I am.” “The fifth circle waits for you.” The nothingness vanished. I glanced around. I stood in a dimly lit empty room. I turned around. Behind me was an unmade four poster bed. And that was it. I approached the bed curiously. A form lay on it, a boy, sprawled across the mattress and tangling the sheets. His black hair was a mess, setting a contrast against his skin. He shifted, and looked up at me. I stifled a scream. “Harry?” I gasped. “Is that you?” “Last time I checked, yeah,” he said, turning onto his back. “Come back, I'm not done with you yet.” “Done with me?” Harry reached out and grabbed my hand. I was too shocked to protest. I fell onto the bed beside him, and he wrapped his arms around me. “You smell delicious,” he murmured in my ear, nuzzling my neck. My brain froze up. Harry kissed the nape of my neck. I sat up quickly. “What?” he said, frowning. “What's the matter?” “This is a dream,” I muttered, ignoring him. “I'm dreaming. This isn't actually happening.” “Do what is right, Ginevra,” the woman said. Harry wrapped his arms around me. I was very aware of the fact that he was not wearing a shirt. His fingers slipped beneath my shirt and brushed my stomach. My skin tingled where he had touched it. Do what was right, the woman said. I stood up. “What's the matter?” Harry said, frowning at me and standing up too. “Was it something I said?” “No,” I said, my face felt very hot. “No, it's not you. I- I just...” I trailed off. Harry wasn't wearing pants... He raised an eyebrow at me. “What is then? This is what you want, right?” I moved my mouth, but no sound came out. My brain refused to move past the fact that Harry was wearing only boxers. I cleared my throat and forcibly moved my gaze from his most interesting state of undress, to his face. “I have to go,” I muttered. I turned away from him, but Harry caught my arm, stopping me. “Just one kiss?” he said, sticking out his bottom lip. I couldn't say anything; I was just speechless. Harry grinned and brought his mouth down on mine. I've heard that you can't kiss someone in a dream. Well, apparently you can in an hallucination. I went weak at the knees. My skin was on fire. Harry's hands were at my back, but one was dipping down into the waistband of my jeans. I pushed him away. He frowned. “I can't do this,” I said. “I've got to keep going.” Harry brushed his fingers over my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring the connection. “Good.” I opened my eyes. Harry and the bed were gone. I could still feel his fingers brushing my skin. “Perhaps you are more than lucky,” said the woman. “Perhaps you actually have some sense in that minute brain of yours.” I ignored the insult. “What next?” “Sleep.” “What?” “Sleep, child. I did not expect you to go through the circles so quickly, and so the sixth circle is not quite ready. Go to sleep, and when you wake, I will be ready for you.” A twin size bed appeared on my left. This time, the bed was made and empty. I sat down on it, sinking into the mattress. It was soft, and the bed was warm. A wave of exhaustion hit me; I pulled back the blankets and slipped between them. I lay down, and sleep claimed me almost immediately. I sat still, watching her light flicker and fade. She gains color and loses it a moment later. She's fading fast, but there is nothing I can do. The invisible force whispers in my ear, telling me exactly why I could not help her. I stopped listening a while ago. I only watch her. She lies still. She's asleep, I think, because her light is brightening, and pulsing as well. I wonder what she dreams of. I wonder if she dreams of me. |
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