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SIYE Time:2:19 on 29th March 2024
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After
By Senator of Sorcery

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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: 167856; Chapter Total: 4945







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Chapter Eighteen

The Angel's Choice


At first, I thought that I had walked into the wrong hallucination.

The Angel of Death was really a child, a young girl, with pale skin and dark brown hair. But her face was sad, dark circles beneath her eyes. Worry lines had formed between her eyebrows, despite her childish stature. Her eyes were her most striking and disturbing feature. The color shifted, going from dark stormy gray to clear Caribbean blue to black and then to palest green. She wore a plain white frock, that could have been pretty, but the hem was muddy, and her dress was wet. Her hair was tangled, stringy, and dripping with water. Her feet were bare, her nails rimmed with dirt, the edges ragged and frayed.

“You're the Angel of Death?” I said in disbelief.

Her eyes shifted to the color of turbulent sea.

“I am,” she said, her voice echoed throughout the black expanse. “This is my realm. What is your reason for intruding upon my death?”

I glanced down at the name I held to my chest. What was I supposed to say? But then something else appeared in my hands. An ancient book, and two pieces of stained glass. Then the two pieces of glass glowed and melded into one. The image of the two people holding hands rested above a patch of words, surrounded by interwoven flowers. The words twisted on the glass, and turned to English. “I'm here to request my soul match's return to the Mortal world,” I read aloud.

The Angel raised one eyebrow. “You are? And what makes you think you have that right?”

“I am a Fidelis Anima,” I said, the words flowing from the glass to my mouth like a prepared speech. “He is my only match, and I will dwindle into misery without him.”

“What is your name, Firefly?”

“Ginny Weasley,” I said.

“And your match's?”

“Harry Potter.”

The little girl cocked her head to one side, her stormy eyes fading to the color of the sunset sky. They drifted away from mine, and focused again on something close to my right. She nodded slowly, and her eyes changed again. Bright, emerald green. Just like Harry's.

“I see him,” she said; her voice was soft, and melancholic. “I see his life and his death. His parents died protecting him, didn't they?”

“Yes,” I said.

“And he died trying to protect you.”

“Y-yes,” my voice cracked.

“Why should I let him pass back into the Mortal Realm?” the Angel of Death asked me, turning her changing eyes on me. The color darkened, her irises becoming lumps of coal.

“Because-” I glanced down at the glass in my hands. “Because...” I faltered. There was no explanation upon the stained glass. Nothing to aid me now. I looked back up, and my eyes met hers. “Because I can't live without him.”

“Then you should join him,” she said. “You are no more worthy of returning to the Mortal World than he is.”

I bit my lip, suppressing an urge to yell at her. “But he is worthy! The world needs him!”

“The Mortal world has needed many in the past. It got along fine without half of them.”

“There's an evil wizard, Lord Voldemort, trying to kill us all,” I said, my voice rising in the sudden panic I was feeling. “Harry's the only one who can defeat him!”

The little Angel shrugged. “Another will be born to vanquish this lord. Many have thought they were the only one to defeat the current enemy, they died and another rose up and finished the job. What makes this one so different?”

“I love him,” I said, “I need him.”

“Again, you may join him.”

“Lord Voldemort has Horcruxes,” I said. “He can't die unless someone destroys all of them. Harry's supposed to beat Voldemort, he's supposed to live!”

“And here he is, dead,” the Angel of Death said. “The dead must stay dead, Firefly. You should accept that, and leave before your mind goes.”

She turned away from me, and took a step back into the thick darkness.

“No!” I cried. “I won't leave without him!”

She stopped, and slowly turned her gaze over her shoulder, back to me. “You won't?” she repeated. “You would take eternal madness and pain over leaving this boy?”

“Yes,” I said. “It's what I'll get anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you say that?”

“I was told by some demon that if I didn't leave Harry where he was, he would drive me insane,” I said. As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The girl turned around to face me, her eyes dark again.

“A demon visited you?” she repeated. “And threatened you? And yet you ignored his threats to try and pull your match from my grasp?”

I nodded.

“Which demon?”

“I don't know, I never saw his face.”

The Angel let out a cold laugh. “Of course you did not see his face, Firefly. If you had, you would be dead. But what shape did you see?”

“A man's shadow,” I said. “That's all.”

“I see. And this demon, what did he say to you? What did he call himself?”

I frowned, trying to remember. My thoughts still wanted to leave my mind and wander around the Realm, but I held them in place. Harry's name glowed bright beneath my fingers.

“He said he was everyone's worst fear.”

The girl's eyes flashed briefly to the color of blood. “Did he tell his name?”

“He said it was unspeakable.”

The Angel of Death muttered something under her breath. “He must really fear that boy,” she said. “To strain his prison so far to threaten you.”

“Prison?”

“You spoke with an ancient demon,” the Angel said, as water dripped from her hair and dress to the black ground rhythmically. “One older than time itself. He has been imprisoned for over a thousand years.” Her eyes intensified, becoming a mixture of black, orange, purple and green. “He must be trying to rise again,” she whispered, more to herself than to me. “That boy must be standing in his way.”

The Angel of Death rubbed her forehead with her pale hand. “My Lord will want to speak with you,” she said.

It was my turn to be confused. “Your lord?”

“The Lord of Death,” she clarified. “I have the right to allow any soul to request another soul's return, and I have the right to grant it, but with this new development, my Lord will want to make the decision himself.”

“But aren't the Lord of Death and the Angel of Death the same person?” I said.

The Angel gave me a small but weary smile. “No, Firefly. I am his helper. I collect the souls from the Mortal world and guide them to the Waiting Realm, then to the After World to be judged. The Lord of Death holds the Realm together, and rules over the dead. I am merely an assistant.”

“Are you his daughter or something?”

She shook her head. “No, I was a mortal, like you. Well, more mortal than you are. I was born with a pure mortal soul.”

“Then how did you become the Angel of Death?”

Her eyes became misty blue, and a purer sadness filled them. “I was the first mortal to cross from the Mortal World to the Realms. I was the first mortal to die.”

I sucked in my breath, startled. “How did you die?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

She fingered her wet, muddy dress. “I drowned. I did not heed my parents warnings, to not go near the sea, and I paid the price.”

I clutched the book, the glass, and Harry's name closer to my chest.

The Angel of Death gave me a look of purest regret, and turned away again. “The Lord will want to speak with you. I will fetch him.” She faded into the darkness.

I could not respond. I was stricken with a sudden fear. My mind was starting to wander again. Lily's words came back to me, and for a moment, I thought I could see them floating in the air before me.

“What ever you see, it will not be filtered. It is not meant for mortal eyes.”

The Angel had not been too frightening, but I felt a sense of depression creeping up on me. But the Lord of Death sounded much more intimidating. More dangerous. My mind already was cracking under the pressure of this place, but could I stand up to the Lord of Death?

A rumble of thunder shook my thoughts. The blackness convulsed and turned in on itself. A white outline, of a man, appeared in the black, and then details filled in the outline. The Angel of Death reappeared by the man's side. The outline filled, and I stumbled back as a wave of dark power flooded the black expanse.

“Tell me exactly what you saw, Firefly,” the Lord of Death's voice boomed throughout the expanse, shaking me. White words appeared around me. I could not speak. The Lord of Death radiated pure fear. But then I looked down, and Harry's name glowed bright gold. I reached out and gathered the thoughts that escaped my mind.

“I saw a man's shadow,” I said. “He stood only in other shadows, but I could see him because his shadow was darker than the other shadows. He told me that if I kept trying to rescue Harry, he would drive my mind to Insanity’s Domain and back.”

The Lord of Death nodded slowly. I held Harry's name closer to my heart, and the dark power rolling off him seemed to affect me less. I saw him clearly, a young man with dark hair, his hands clasped behind his back, wearing black robes. The fabric shifted and shimmered, like a breeze was pushing at him. He looked both beautiful and terrifying. His features were sharp and proud, his eyes black pits. His skin was milky white. His gaze was fixed, not on me, but at a point somewhere to my right.

“He is watching you,” said the Lord of Death. “Even now. His gaze pierces into this realm. I can sense his essence on you. This presents a problem.”

“What problem?”

“He is strong enough to invade the Angel's home. I must notify the Tamed of this. Angel, do as you wish with the boy's soul.” The Lord of Death turned away, towards the dense darkness from which he had come.

“That's it?” I said, without thinking. “You're not going to tell me anything about this? Who that demon is? Or why he doesn't want Harry back?”

The Lord of Death paused, and turned slowly back to me. This time, his gaze did land on me. I felt another wave of dark power roll over me, and I held Harry's name tighter.

“It is not your place to question my decisions,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “Even now, Firefly, your mind strains to pull your soul back into the Mortal World. Your sanity is at risk. You should accept my choice and return to the Mortal World. This realm is not meant for mortal eyes.”

“So I've been told,” I snapped. “But that demon threatened me, not you. Me. I'm going to be driven insane whether I stay here and argue with you or not. I have the right to know why.”

The Lord of Death raised a single thin eyebrow. “You have fire in your soul,” he said. “Be careful to not let that fire consume you.”

I stood my ground. The Lord of Death seemed surprised. “Seventh generation Firefly, you said,” he said, turning to the Angel of Death. She nodded. He regarded me with professional interest in his eyes. “The boy, what is he?”

“A Storm Runner, Lord,” she said.

“A what?”

“I see why she is so powerful,” the Lord of Death said softly. “And a Fidelis Anima as well. I do not think there has been a bond so strong in the Mortal world for a thousand years.”

“The last pair were Godric Gryffindor and Airis Cyfareddyc,” the Angel said.

“Airis what?” I repeated, baffled.

“Sy-fair-dic,” the Angel said again, sounding the word out for me. “She was Godric Gryffindor's match.”

“I doubt even Gryffindor and Cyfareddyc were as strong as this one,” the Lord of Death mused. “The Firefly and the Storm Runner might very well vanquish him for all eternity.”

“My Lord, it is not right for souls to re-enter the Mortal World,” the Angel said, “but following the Tamed's law might allow him to escape.”

“Do what you think is best,” the Lord of Death said, turning away again. “I must inform the Tamed of this.”

And he faded into the blackness. The Angel looked to me with her great, sad eyes. They were soft silver now.

“It is against the Laws of the Realms to allow any soul to return from the dead,” she said. My heart seized up. “But,” the Angel went on, and my heart gave a feeble beat. “Those laws were written by the Tamed, and the Lords answer to no one. Go back to your body, Firefly. The book in your hands will have the spell you need to pull your match back to the Mortal World.”

The Angel and the black expanse around me blurred. I held the objects in my arms close to my body. “I get him back?” I said.

“Yes. I get very little joy in death, and annoying the Tamed is one of my few pleasures. Go now, before you unravel.”

The blackness mixed together. The Angel of Death faded into the dark. I felt sleepy all of a sudden. I closed my weary eyes.

There was a flash of bright light. I opened my eyes, and I lay on cold stone floor. I could see nothing, there was no light. My wand was in my hand. The book, and the piece of glass rested on my stomach. There was something in my other hand, but I could not tell what it was. I sat up slowly, and whispered “Lumos.” A faint, blue light lit up my wand. The thing in my other hand was a crumpled ribbon. I opened my hand, and the ribbon rose up in the air. It twisted, and formed a word in the air. Harry. Then, it vanished. A smile spread over my face. I had done it.
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