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Elemental	By : AngelaBlythe Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 3286 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
ELEMENTAL

~by The Labris~

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

My Skin Is Not My
Own�

Visiting Rights

Ultimately it was the only thing that could be done. Surveying the
landscape, Molly Weasley found herself frowning and wishing she could hold her
sons tight � or at least lock them up in some distant mountain�s cave until the
danger had passed. But, alas, her boys were Weasleys through and through, and
nothing, no amount of motherly nagging, pleading, crying, or pouting, would get
her sons anywhere near the vicinity of a distant hideaway.

So she opted to dote on them while she could, instead of listening to
the cute blonde-headed young lady whom George seemed quite fond of. What was
her name? The Order was letting in all sorts of youngsters these days. Ah,
Bowman � Victoria Bowman. Yes, George was indeed partial to her; Molly could
tell by the way he teased her. Maybe her son was indeed growing up!

That particular thought was dispelled immediately when George reverted
to pulling hair to get poor Victoria�s attention. Childishness so instilled in
her foolish son would not be so easily dismissed. Another sigh brought the
attention of her nearest son, which, at the time, happened to be dear Percy.

Yes, he was her dear Percy. �Perfect Percy,� his brothers teased him,
but Molly knew the truth. As much as Percy longed for his famed perfection, it
escaped him all the time. He had gone the straight and narrow, become Head Boy
in a much more straightforward way than Bill. He had married (and Molly�s
grandchildren were due within the next two months � twins by the size of poor
Penelope) first, got a proper Ministry job first, and had been gifted with an
aspect of his heritage that would bring him respect and probably popularity.
The Weasley Blood Berserkers were famous for their powers and battling
abilities.

Hopefully, when all this was over, Arthur would be able to explain it to
Percy properly. After Percy had blacked out, practically right in front of
Molly, he had been out for a long while. Indeed, it was only by the sheer force
of his personality he was able to secure his position on the defensive team.

The defensive team. Some of them were too young, Molly noted. Some were
ripened old Aurors with more than a few battles under their belts. But some,
yes, some looked as though they were barely out of school. A frail looking girl
with a fire in her eyes strode by, and Molly tisked silently. This battle
wasn�t one children should fight.

And yet�and yet there were so many children close by. Most of the s�ance
members were barely adults. Yes, yes, she knew they were young ladies, but
really, Hermione Granger was barely eighteen, not even out of Hogwarts, and,
despite being a candidate for the Coven, was still just eighteen! Just
eighteen! It was ludicrous! Unthinkable! And those two Indian-looking girls,
Patils, about Hermione�s age, weren�t much better.

If Molly was in charge� But Molly wasn�t in charge. Right now
Dumbledore was in charge, and she was following him in this. There was no room
for argument with the way Dumbledore presented the plans. He had fairly
listened to everyone�s opinion, or so Percy told it, and had then come to a
decision about what was to be done. After all�they couldn�t just leave Ginny.

Slowly, Molly�s eyes wandered from her son Percy, who was talking to
her, towards the great wall of fire. They, the s�ance and defensive teams, were
safe enough where they were, but much closer and they would be fed to the
tornado of fire and wind. It was hard for Molly to look at the awesome tornado,
knowing her youngest child was at the center of it. �Caught,� Victoria Bowman
had called it. �Caught in her own Elemental drive to survive and gain power.�
Victoria claimed �the sole purpose of a TRUE Element was to gain as much
power as it could, violently if necessary.�

Molly knew a lot about Elementals. She had done excess amounts of
research on them when Ginny was a baby. She knew just about everything, but
Victoria knew more still. Perhaps being an Elemental brought you some
enlightenment that was instinctual � not learned. But with all her studies,
Molly could never find any proof that something like THIS had ever
happened.

Victoria described it as �the base of every Elemental. Down deep in
every Elemental�s soul, there is a purely elemental core; Fire�s have fire,
Earth�s have earth, and so on. When an Elemental taps this power, it can
overrun the human side of their soul. In the case of your daughter, Ruby Queen
Dreamweaver Prewett, I�m not even sure there is a human side anymore. It could
have been�assimilated. That would be dangerous, not only to her, but to us. If
someone found a way to control her��

Her words made Molly shudder, and she closed her eyes. She could still
see it though. It was a great, circular wall of flame and wind, towering
infinitely into the sky. And her baby was inside of it, controlling it�or it
was controlling her.

�Mother?�

This time Percy�s voice penetrated the quiet shell around Molly�s mind.
She looked at him, a wan smile on her face, and patted his cheek. �Yes, Percy?�

�I asked if you were feeling up to this. You look tired,� he said,
concerned.

Molly just smiled again and looked over at the tower of flame. �I�ll be
better when this is over, Percy-love.�

Percy gazed at her for a moment longer then nodded. �I�m going to go
talk to Fred and George, Mum. You want me to send anyone your way?�

�No.�

Percy�s retreating back drew her attention to Dumbledore, who was
walking directly towards her, a wayward smile on his face and hands clasped
behind his back. He stopped before her, nodding his head slightly and taking a
seat next to her. �It is time, Molly.�

A sigh escaped Molly�s lips. Folding her hands in front of her, Molly
questioned the headmaster. �Do you think this will work, Albus?�

He looked at her sharply over his spectacles. �I have hope, Molly. I
have hope. If anyone can make contact with Ginny, it will be you.�

�I certainly hope, Albus,� she said tiredly. �I cannot help but think
that my boys may not make it through the day � motherly concern.�

�Understandable. I expect the fighting to start about the time the
s�ance begins. Lord Voldemort will not take kindly to our actions, however
blind he is to them now. My magic can only shield us for so long. After
that�well, it is up to our Aurors.�

Molly could see Dumbledore�s eyes going towards the wall of flame, and
she sighed again. �Well,� she said, putting her hands on her knees and standing
up. �No time like the present, eh, Albus?�

He shook his head and led Molly to the circle. Around a grove of trees,
half hidden in the brush, nine women sat calmly. To all eyes, they were
separate entities, but if one looked closer, inspected each, one would find
they were indeed connected. It wouldn�t be a far cry to call them a hive mind.
When one woman inhaled, they all did at the same time. When one woman�s eyes
flickered, they all flickered. When one woman had a thought, they all thought
the same exact thing.

It was a dangerous state to be in, if not completely protected and
trained. It was why, Molly remembered, so many witches of old attempting the
s�ance died. One unsynchronization and they could all be lost. Molly shuddered
at the thought and looked up at the headmaster. �I will just talk to Ginny like
she�s right next to me then?�

He nodded then drew a strange marking on the ground outside the circle
of women. �When you enter or exit the circle, be sure you do it here.�

�Yes,� Molly agreed, taking a deep breath and stepping in front of the
symbol. She took one last look at the fiery tornado that was her daughter and
stepped over the joint hands of Parvati and Padma Patil. It was now or never.

Inside the circle, there was a magnetic feeling; electricity charged the
air with negative energy. It was similar to being inundated with too much magic
at once. Molly gazed about her and saw that things were certainly different
looking out of a s�ance than looking in. Outside it was clearly visible that
nine women were holding hands in a circle, deep in a trance. But inside�there
were no women. There was no sky. There was no earth, and there was no sun or
moon. One was just there. No colors, no darkness, no light. Molly equated it to
being in a Dreamweaving trance, but knew better.

She wasted no time aligning her mind with her daughter�s. It was simple;
she�d been doing it since Ginny was a young girl. Molly had always paid special
to Ginny, not only because of her Elemental blood, but because Ginny had been
intercepting other people�s dreams since she was old enough to form coherent
thought. Blocking the dreams had been cake for Molly for years, but as Ginny�s
mind and subconscious developed, Molly found it hard to keep up.

Ginny�s dreams finally raged out of control after her first year, and
Molly had to ask the Council of Dreamweavers, Dorothea specifically, if they
could put a block on Ginny�s subconscious. Even with the strongest witches
protecting her mind, Ginny was still attacked at night from time to time. Molly
learned to connect to Ginny�s mind within seconds to calm her, so reaching her
daughter now was fairly simple.

Once Molly found herself on the correct �channel,� she tried to fill her
mind with calm thoughts, so as not to add to the chaos no doubt racing around
in Ginny�s head. A scene from her childhood: playing in the field behind the
Burrow in springtime filled with flowers. Ginny had made a chain from flowers
and was wrapping them around herself. There was a sweet breeze, and only then,
at the moment Molly was thinking of it, did she realize it must have been Ginny
making that breeze subconsciously. Molly smiled and placed herself in the
vision, bringing her and her daughter�s minds parallel.

It was like being physically scorched. Molly tried frantically to draw
back from the metaphysical fire in Ginny�s mind, but couldn�t do it. She was
being sucked into the raging fire spout with no hope of being drawn out. Either
Ginny�s Elemental powers were manipulating Molly, or Ginny�s mind was just far
too strong to escape when it came to Dreamweaving techniques. Molly was scared
� down to the marrow of her bones, she was terrified of this power � but the
memory that Ginny was her daughter, her only daughter, gave her strength. Ginny
loved her, and she loved Ginny. Love conquered all.

�Ginny? Ginny, baby? It�s Mummy, darling! It�s your mother. Come and
talk to me, Ginny. I love you.�

The voice she heard was not the voice she expected. Of course it was
Ginny�s voice. That much was clear. But then again, it wasn�t Ginny�s voice. A
hard, metallic sound was layered over it, as though two people, speaking at the
same time, were talking through Ginny.

�Mummy! Mummy! I�m scared!�

Molly was assaulted with a barrage of emotions, all of them thrown at
her simultaneously. Electricity shot down her veins, frying her nerves. Molly
felt her eyes roll back in her head, but kept consciousness. She had to. She
had to save Ginny.

Fear, pain, hope, hate, danger, anxiety, terror, betrayal, love � they
freefell into Molly�s subconscious, and all of them were Ginny�s. Try as she
might, Molly couldn�t organize these emotions for her daughter, much less calm
them, and was swept away with the vast current of her daughter�s mind.

�Hold on, baby!� Molly cried out frantically. �Hold on. Now be calm for
Mummy, Ginny. Stay calm. I love you. I�m here. I�m right here with you.�

There was a substantial difference in Ginny now; Molly could feel it.
She took this as a good sign and kept going. �I�m here with you, baby. We�re
getting you out of this. Dumbledore�s here. Your brothers are here. People are
protecting you. People love you. Come on now; tell me what�s happening.�

Visions flew past Molly�s eyes. Not her memories, however; they were
clearly Ginny�s. Great valleys of fire. Large hands squeezing her neck. A
snake, large and terrifying, slithering towards her, red eyes glowing. A blonde
boy, tall and lean, bending over to brush a hair out of her face and kissing her
cheek lightly. A terrifying vision of Lucius Malfoy very clearly kissing her
and then flinging her away. A flash of blue and red, her vision clouding with
colors and then finally blackening.

�Am I in trouble, Mum? I don�t know where I am! Save me!�

Ginny�s voice was more distant now, as if she was fading away and the
metallic voice was taking over. Molly felt a shift of power and realized she
couldn�t possibly be in the presence of Ginny anymore. This wasn�t Ginny�s
mind. This was much larger and more terrible than Ginny�s mind, and much more
powerful. It was hotter too. Molly tried to release herself, but she just got
sucked in further.

�She is ours, human. Leave her to us. She is our tool. She is our
masterpiece.�

The Fire Spirit and the Wind Spirit were speaking to her again. It had
been nearly seventeen years, but Molly would NEVER forget the sound of
that voice. And Molly also remembered there was a deal. Her daughter�s, her
sons� and her own life for Ginny to be their hybrid. They COULDN�T do
this. They were bound.

�She is MINE! My daughter and you can�t take her! We had a deal! WE
HAD A PACT!� she raged at the Elements.

There was a long moment of silence, but the voice spoke again. �You
invoke the rights of our pact? You hold us to our word, though your daughter is
no longer a human?�

Hard faced, Molly answered with a question. �No longer�a human? What do
you mean? Speak clearly.�

The booming voice, confident and awful, spoke again in its metallic
quality. �Her Elemental blood has been fully activated. She called us. She
asked for our protection, and we gave her power. She will be an Element soon,
our masterpiece. She will be Wind and Fire, the only of her kind. She will
leave this plane of existence and travel on the parallel of the Elements.�

Molly felt despair down to the bottom of her heart. They would steal her
daughter. �No� No, they wouldn�t. Molly would stop them. Dumbledore would stop
them. Someone had to.

�I�ll never give up my daughter.�

�It�s not your decision. It was hers. She made it. She asked for it. She
WILL be one of us.�

�I will fight you. WE will fight you. Don�t you DARE think
you will win!�

Molly signaled the end of the s�ance with a message aimed at the nine
women encircling her and was immediately sucked out of Ginny�s semi-conscious
mind. Very carefully, very purposefully, Molly strode out of the circle in the
marked area and looked Dumbledore straight in the eyes.

�Do whatever you need to take down these Elements, Albus. I won�t let
them take my daughter.�

Death Fall

The first of them started to appear over the ridge within minutes after
Dumbledore let down the protective shield. It wasn�t an anti-Apparation shield,
more of an anti-magic shield, one that prevented those of magical blood from
crossing over it. Percy thought it was ingenious. But then, Dumbledore was the
one who created it, and to Percy, everything Dumbledore did was ingenious.

Percy looked to his left and his right, just to make sure the Aurors
were all ready. He knew they would be � they were hardened killing machines,
only the good kind. Fred and George fingered their wands restlessly to his
right, and about ten meters to his left, Percy could see Moody and a few of his
followers � a waif-like woman, a black man, and two men with brown hair �
gathered about.

The approaching Death Eaters seemed shocked at the fire burning in the
distance and were visibly in awe of it. Percy steeled himself over, thinking
only of protecting those in the s�ance. They would need it, after all. Fred and
George winked at him and then touched the ends of their wands together.

They had developed the attack themselves. Something about being twins
and spending every waking moment together gave them powers different from other
witches and wizards. Not that they weren�t capable of working separately, but
when they worked together, let their magic combine and mix, they put a
different spin on their powers that was deadly. When they put their wand tips
together, it was a signal � watch out, you aren�t going to like this.

The Death Eaters cast the first spell. A man in the front of the charge,
all in black, raised his wand above his head and shouted, �Morsmordre!�

The battle began as the snow began to fall.

Fell Memories

Draco looked out the window at the falling snow. He, Potter, Weasel,
Zabini, Creevey, and Thomas were being kept � for their own safety � in a small
tower on the eastern wing of the castle. Filch was guarding them, but Draco
knew he was guarding against their escape, not protecting them. The crooked old
man and his cat stood by the door, viewing all of them with a distasteful eye �
especially Potter and Weasel, who were huddled in the corner farthest from his.
Zabini, Creevey, and Thomas were sitting on a couch near Draco, discussing some
trivial nonsense Draco had blocked from his mind long ago.

The wind gusted outside the window, and the fire in the room roared.
Draco still felt cold inside. He was cold with fear, feeling this was his
fault. It was his fault. He could have � should have � told her the minute she
came back. Then he would have had an easier time. She would have had an easier
time. They could have gone their own way after that, if that was what she
wanted. And he would have let her go. He didn�t deserve her, not after killing
so many people.

But he couldn�t help touching her again. And kissing her. His hands that
had signed the death warrants of countless Muggles and wizards couldn�t stay
safely away from her. When he�d seen her walking cautiously down the hall, her
eyes anxious and her hair red as a rose, he knew she was all he ever wanted or
needed. Nothing could fill the void she would leave.

He was weak, and he knew it. Part of him wanted to hate her for this.
All of him hated Lucius for this. Why did he have to read the diary? If he�d
left it there, not opened it, just let it be, he would never have put Ginny in
danger. But then, he never would have loved Ginny either. She had changed him,
let him love, let him feel. It had been there the whole time, but it wasn�t
acceptable. Not acceptable to Lucius. What did he know? Draco would kill him
for this.

Draco would kill all that came between him and Ginny from now on. He
would always know where she was, know how to reach her, and be by her as much
as he could. No other man would touch her; no other person would touch her�maybe
her parents�and possibly her brothers. Not Weasel though� Perhaps it
borderlined on insanity, but Draco could never let this happen again.

Draco gripped the windowsill and put a hand on the glass. It was cold,
but it was warmer than he was. Puffy, white snow clouds obscured the sky. He
sighed, closing his eyes and trying to remember their last conversation. How
could he have done it differently? What could he have said�done�explained?

Why did you have to make me love you, Draco? Why?

Echoing silence droned in Draco�s mind. She loved him. She had really
loved him. And now she hated him for it.

Ginny, please, you have to listen to me. Please, Gin?
Just put down the wand. I want to explain to you, please.

No, I won�t listen to your lies anymore, Draco. I can�t
believe I ever did. That�s all it was to you, one big lie. One master move in
your game of life. I was just a pawn you used to get the prize, right?

A pawn�she thought she was his pawn. Couldn�t she
see? How could she be so blind? He was her pawn. He was her pawn to do with
what she wished. If she had told him to kill himself, he would have thrown
himself out the window right then. And she thought his love was a lie. A lie?!

No, Ginny. Not you. I would never play that game with
you. Please let me explain, Gin. Please. I love �

SHUT UP, DRACO! I won�t believe your lies anymore! You
haven�t changed at all! I won�t let you manipulate me! You just leave me alone!
I�m not going to let him get me again! I refuse! Don�t make me hurt you, Draco;
stay in that bed.�

Ginny, please! Listen to me! I beg you!

No. You listen to me, Draco Malfoy. I gave you a
chance. I gave you my heart. I gave you a lot of things. And if I thought for
one minute that your love was true, I�d give them a thousand times and not care
about you being a Death Eater or not. But you lied to me. You took false words
and made me believe them. I may not hate you now, but someday, when I can heal
from this, I will find you to be the most despicable human on the face of this
earth.

Draco felt himself crumpling. She loved him. She loved him. And now she
hated him. She thought he was �the most despicable human on the face of this
earth.� And what hit hardest was that she would have loved him beyond being a
Death Eater. She would have loved him still, even though he killed and pillaged
and committed countless atrocities. She was willing to forgive him all this�but
not lying to her.

She had been lied to far too many times in her life. She lied to herself
sometimes even. She couldn�t help it. It was all she knew. Damn Voldemort and
damn Lucius! Damn Tom Riddle, too! They had manipulated her. They had placed
the seeds of distrust. They had made her, unwillingly, their pawn. And when she
broke free of them, she trusted that the next person she gave her heart to
wouldn�t do the same.

And Draco had.

If you know what�s good for you, Draco, don�t follow
me.

Don�t follow me� It played continuously in his head. He should
have followed her. He could have caught her. He could have stopped her. He
could have pinned her down on the ground if necessary, shown her Godric�s Crest
and made her believe. He could have taken her to the headmaster and told him to
tell her. Of all the things he could have done, he didn�t follow her. He sat on
his bed and let her run, feeling his world crash around him. She told him not
to say he loved her. It wasn�t any use. He did. He would never stop. Not even
in death.

If you know what�s good for you, Draco, don�t follow
me. �Draco, don�t follow me. �Draco�

�Draco?�

It was a fuzzy sound on his ears. He couldn�t tell who said it because
he couldn�t see anymore. Just figures with undeterminable shapes blending in
with the background. His hearing wasn�t responding�he felt something leaving
him� He was weak� falling� falling� down� down� down� into the rabbit hole��

Draco jerked awake, startled and ready to kill. It was an instinct he�d
learned that summer. His wand was in his hand and a curse on his lips until he
saw it was Potter�s face he was seeing.

�Get out of my way, Potter,� Draco said angrily, putting the heel of his
hand on Potter�s forehead and pushing hard.

�Hey!� Potter yelped indignantly as he flew back a few steps, frowning.

Draco was on his feet by then and looking around suspiciously. Everyone
crowded around him, looking anxious. �What?� he snapped.

Potter got a snotty look on his face, frowning and crossing her arms.
�Well, excuse us for caring, Mr. Pass-Out-And-Scream. Next time we�ll let you
go into uncontrollable spasms all by yourself.�

Draco merely gave him an imperious look and then frowned. Something in
the room felt wrong. Something felt very wrong. �The fire is out,� he said
calmly.

�Thank you, Captain Obvious,� Weasel mumbled, sneering cheekily at Draco
and crossing his arms as well.

�And the wind stopped blowing,� Draco added, frowning.

�Are you suffering from brain trauma, or are you just plain stupid?�
Weasel ground out. �For the love of Merlin, Malfoy ��

�Ron, shut up,� Zabini snapped, his eyes dark and serious. He turned to
Harry, Ron, and finally Draco. �Malfoy � Draco.� Draco winced. �What�s going
on?�

Draco paused a moment before answering. Something was definitely wrong,
but he couldn�t say what. It was as if�something was missing. Something really
important that he didn�t know he had until it was gone.

�There�s supposed to be a blizzard today,� Zabini commented dryly in his
drawling accent. �Where�d the blizzard go?�

Then realization dawned on Draco. �My wind�� he said softly. �My
power�it�s gone!� He leapt to the window � no wind, no nothing. Just
free-falling ice crystals. Then, completely mad, �Something�s happening to
Ginny!�

What the Sky Sees

The sky was the lone observer of the atrocious acts of the man below.
Hidden well beyond the range of any shield or detecting device was an enclave
in the rock of a cliff. Carved twenty feet above the man were large,
human-sized runes. In the runes, there were faint traces of blood from the last
sacrifice made there. This was a dark place, unknown to those who hadn�t seen
the scripts of Mordred�s secret book � Morte D�Mordorde.�

The sky watched as the man spilled his blood in the runes of the dark
cliff. It took only a drop to ignite and a cupful to empower the dark magic of
the area. The man drew unevenly on the ground ancient scrawl of the dark tongue
of the witches and wizards long ago. They had called it Ogrambe, but
today it was called Dead Speech by those who had read it in Morte D�Mordorde.
The man spilled more of his blood on the ground to reflect his actions in the
runes and lit the blood afire.

He stood to the side of a giant circle in which the words, crudely
outlined in blood, burned; the fire grew with intensity as he shouted and raved
the Dead Speech. Then, out of a bag at his side, he spoke three words,
unintelligible and crass, and a giant gust blew up around the fire, entwining,
braiding, blending, and becoming one. The flame-winds rose high in a mirror of
the tornado and then sank into a puddle on the ground. The puddle � a burning
hellfire of elements � raged and licked dangerously at the trees and sky.

The man, white with terror and sick joy, began the second verse of
prose. He raised his hands to the sky, calling on some force to aid him in his
evil. All around him glowed with a dark aura, black and awful, and his eyes
became solid black orbs. Black bolts of energy came from his fingers, and he
laughed sinisterly.

�Come to me, Ginevra,� was all he said.

Comfortable in
Your Other Skin, Part III

Something was wrong. Molly could feel it. Something was definitely
happening that shouldn�t have been. She frowned, helping the small-boned
Victoria woman drink some water. The members of the s�ance were practically
drained of all power and life by the time Molly had stepped out of the ring.
She and Poppy were taking care of the women, a safe distance from the battle.
There were a few wounded men Poppy had seen to right away. No one Molly knew,
but people she cared for nonetheless.

�Coven Witch Prewett,� Victoria mumbled heavily. Her eyes strained to
open, and her light complexion wasn�t creamy � it was white. She stumbled over
a few words, and Molly tried to shush her, tried to make her rest, but she
persisted. �Your daughter is in trouble,� she murmured sleepily. �Go��

Molly dropped the glass of water and let it spill on the ground. She
looked over to the swirling tornado of wind and fire and saw it was diminishing
slowly. Were the Elements relinquishing their control over Ginny? Bowman had
said Ginny was in trouble.

�What if she wasn�t in trouble from the Elements?

�Poppy! Something�s happening! Stay here!� she shouted over her
shoulder, drawing her wand and running her fingers down the smooth wood as she
strode purposefully towards the tornado.

She was closer than anyone had been so far. A deathly scream penetrated
Molly�s ears, and her purposeful stride became a frenzied sprint. That was
Ginny�s scream. The closer she ran, the hotter it became, but for some reason
Molly was able to bear it. Between the trees, she could distinctly see her
daughter levitating in the air.

Through the torrents of wind and fire, Molly saw what had happened to
her daughter.

Ginny�s eyes were wide open in shock and pain. They were a solid red
color, shimmering with metallic quality. She was completely bare, her clothes
no doubt burnt off. Despite this her skin remained unblemished and glittering
white, or translucent opal maybe. It had a magical characteristic Molly
couldn�t rightly place. But Ginny�s hair was the most magnificent part. It was
pure flame, red-orange and dancing like a candle in the breeze. The palms of
her hands and the soles of her feet were releasing controlled, small fires, as
if the heat inside her had no other way to escape.

Molly cried out for her poor daughter. And just as she was about to
throw herself into the fire, it abruptly stopped, dissipating into nothing.
Ginny hung suspended in the air for a moment and then dropped lightly to the
ground. Her hands and soles were no longer flaming, but as she lay crumpled on
the ground, Molly saw her hair was still a mass of flames, and her skin glowed
with shimmering light.

�Ginny?� Molly asked soothingly as she stepped towards her daughter. The
heat was almost too much for her to handle, but she proceeded.

�Mummy?� Ginny said weakly. Her eyes cracked open, and Molly gasped.
They were blood red and swirling like ruby molten silver. �Mum�� she repeated
tiredly. �I�m scared, Mum. I�m sorry��

�Oh, Ginny!� Molly cried, throwing herself at her fallen daughter.

Her hand barely touched her daughter�s cheek when she felt a supreme
burning pain, and she was thrown back with such force that when she hit a
sturdy tree, she felt blood pouring down her forehead, and her eyes went black.
She did, before passing out, see a ring of fire and wind wrap around her
daughter; letters or runes, she couldn�t tell which, formed the base of these
powers. Ginny let loose a blood-curdling wail and disappeared in a flash of
light. The runes burned themselves into the ground, and Molly�s world went
black around her.

Manifestation of
Destiny�

Percy took his first loud step into the entrance hall of the
dark-tainted castle. He sniffed the air and found it rank and old, as though no
one had breathed in it for centuries. He frowned and looked around himself.
There were thousands of places for Death Eaters to hide � stairwells, corners,
doors, shadows. He looked about and found the windows were encrusted with a
thick layer of dust, and he couldn�t see the dim light of the evening through
them.

Tightening his grip around the man�s neck, he raised the Death Eater to
eye level. Truthfully, Percy had forgotten the man was there, even though he
had dragged him through snow, mud, rain, battle, and the elements. The man
shivered and shook, terrified of being with an authentic Weasley
Blood-Berserker, the oldest and most powerful family line with the
Blood-Berserker gene.

Percy knew he should know the man�s name. He couldn�t remember in his
bloodlust, however. It was a man that had inflicted pain and anguish, not only
on his family, but on thousands of innocent witches, wizards, and Muggles. The
long, blonde hair and pallid skin should have told him more than it did, but in
Percy�s state he tended to see things in good and evil. Percy was good, and
this man was evil; therefore Percy had a civic duty to cleanse the world of
this man through death.

�Where is he?� Percy ground out through clenched teeth.

�He� was, of course, Voldemort. Percy had every intention of finding
Voldemort and making him beg for his worthless, sniveling, repulsive life. And
then Percy would kill Voldemort � preferably with his bare hands. And then
Percy would take his blackened heart and give it as a present to Dumbledore.

Percy nodded to himself and increased the pressure on the blonde man�s
neck. �Tell me where he is, and I�ll kill you slowly,� Percy demanded.

��or� Don�t you mean �or�?� the older man said, chuckling. �Weasleys
really aren�t good for anything��

The Death Eater was a prideful one, Percy noticed. �No. I said �and,�
and I meant �and.� Now�we�ll try again,� Percy said softly as he pushed the man
into the wall, his head cracking on the black bricks. �Tell me where your
master is, and I�ll kill you slowly.�

�Lord Voldemort shall rule all! The name of Malfoy will not be disgraced
by a puny Weasley brat! I will ��

CRACK!

The man�s neck snapped in tiny shards, and Percy dropped him to the
ground.

�Incindio!�

The man burned. Then Percy dusted off his black robes, now covered in
dirt and mud, and looked about him once more.

On guard at the sound of hands clapping, he spun around and formed a
spell in his mind. Upon seeing who it was, Percy lost most all of his senses.
The spindly man was tall and wiry, not very appealing to the eye, and dressed
in long, shapeless, black robes. His white hands and bald head were all that
appeared even vaguely human, and his flat, snake-like nose repelled Percy�s
aesthetic tastes.

�Voldemort,� Percy hissed, his eyes drawing together.

He felt hatred and power bubble within him. Without realizing it, rage
and chaos enveloped his senses, and all Percy could feel was the need to kill.
The competition of two wizards, two enemies, two men, each one with a reason to
kill, each one with a goal to attain, overwhelmed Percy. He felt his hairs
stand on end. It wasn�t out of fear. It was out of determination, out of
adrenaline, and out of anger. He would win. He would kill Voldemort.

�I�ve been hearing about you, my little Weasley,� cooed the stalking
figure. Voldemort descended the stairs slowly, slithering. �The son of the
great Arthur Weasley, the most feared Blood-Berserker of our time. Oh, yes, he
caused many problems for us in the first uprising, as I�m sure you intend to do
now.

�It is unfortunate for you,� he continued, reaching the bottom of the
stairs and removing his wand from his sleeve, �that you meet me in my prime,
when yours is still years away.�

Percy was in no mood to banter with a dark lord. All he was meant to do
was enter the castle � which he had done � find Voldemort � which he had also
done � and then kill Voldemort � which he was about to do. Everything else was
trivial. In the deep places of his mind, Percy felt an untapped power,
something he couldn�t reach. It troubled him, but his confidence told him this
would be the end. The end of Voldemort or the end of him � he wasn�t sure he
cared which at the moment.

�You could,� Voldemort said after a moment, extending a hand towards
Percy, �reach my level�potentially.�

Percy wasn�t interested. He let that be known.

�We would make strong allies, Weasley,� Voldemort continued.

�Your fear betrays you, Voldemort,� Percy said smoothly, with undertones
of anger. �Fight me if you do not wish to seem cowardly.�

Voldemort seemed nonplussed. He narrowed his eyes and retracted his
skeletal hand. �Very well, Weasley.� Then he sneered, a mask of evil forming
over his face with porcelain terror. �Prepare to die. Crucio!� he hissed
maliciously.

Percy felt the strangest sensation of pain he had ever known. He could
tell his body was in pain. He knew it had to be. No one stood after the
Cruciatus Curse. But Percy was. In fact, Percy was not only standing; he wasn�t
affected by the pain. It was there, but it didn�t hurt. He let the sensation
wash over him twice more before he reacted.

Percy reveled in the power that surged around him. It was old,
corrosive, and, above all, strong. It swirled around him in vibrant shades of
red and formed itself into a funnel before him. Percy sneered and felt another
Cruciatus hit him. Without a word, he released the tornado of power, and it
struck Voldemort with such force that it propelled him into the wall,
shattering it and reducing the brick to rubble.

Striding purposefully to the dust, Percy stood over the fallen
Voldemort. There was no form in the debris, but Percy noted there was blood. He
half smiled at this and turned around to face his enemy. Voldemort was
unclothed, his robes no doubt burnt from his body. He had large gashes in his
torso that wound in curving shapes, oozing a black-red blood.

The dark lord coughed up blood and let it dribble down his chin before
wiping it away with his wand hand. �You�ll pay for your insolence.� It was all
he said, save, �Bormosda!�

Percy felt cold hands grip at his neck, and he tried to pry them away.
Then it was as though a thousand iron-hot knives were being stabbed into his
stomach, his back, his ribs, his legs, and his arms. It was like no pain he�d
ever felt, and soon he was bleeding from every wound inflicted by the Stabbing
Cruse. Percy�s stomach lurched, and he puked nearly a fourth of a liter of his
own blood, or so it seemed.

Somehow Percy found his way from his knees to his feet, and he ripped
off his bloody robes and shirt. There were stab wounds everywhere; blood seeped
from his nose and mouth onto the ground.

Percy spat blood to the side and clenched his fist as tight as he could.
Slowly but surely, lightning bolts formed inside his fist, gaining in
electrical power and size. It flashed dangerous red and gold, splintering off
in tongues of deadly power. Percy smirked his most cruel smirk and hurled the
mass of lightning into Voldemort�s middle.

�Protectus!� Voldemort shouted.

A green barrier formed around his body, but it lasted half a second
against Percy�s Blood-Berserker power. Voldemort�s body convulsed on the ground
� fingers of lightning entered his ears and exited his mouth and nose and eyes.
Blood quaked out of his wounds, his eyes, his mouth.

When the lightning dissipated, Percy, amazingly still standing, leered
over Voldemort. �You will pay.�

�And you will die,� coughed the nearly immobile dark lord. He rose a
weak hand up and whispered two words. �Artesip Cerus!�

Air left Percy�s lungs, and his skin grew hot. It grew so hot that Percy
watched in horror as it began to melt from his body. The pain was excruciating.
Voldemort in the background laughing, cursing Percy�s family, his name, his
wife, his unborn children, and his future, furthered the pain until Percy
thought he would pass out.

And then Voldemort was quiet. Percy�s pain stopped. When he looked at
Voldemort, he saw a very long blade sticking out his bloodstained neck.
Voldemort fell on his chest and jerked a few times before he stopped moving completely.

Behind where he had stood was a familiar figure with dark brown hair,
tan skin, and large, irregular teeth. The man � in the same year as Percy when
he was held back � nodded towards Percy and spoke in a deep, gravelly voice.
�You alright, Weasley?�

Percy coughed up a mouthful of blood, but nodded. �Flint. Miss Mariner
said I would find you here.�

The shorter man glowered. �We need to leave now. Can you walk? Or do I
have to carry you?�

Percy spat. �Don�t touch me, Flint,� he barked. Then, painstakingly, he
stood, leaning on a large chunk of debris. �Is he dead?� he asked calmly.

Flint snorted and shook his head. �Of course, he�s not dead, Weasley!
He�s Lord fucking Voldemort! That�s the point; he doesn�t die! I just bought us
about ten minutes before his regenerative powers start working. We have to go
now!�

�Not when we can finish this right now!� Percy said, staggering towards
the mangled body of Voldemort. �We could kill him right now, Flint! One more
curse would kill him!�

�NO!� Flint yelled, pushing Percy back roughly, drawing his wand.
�We can�t kill him! Only one person can kill him; that�s the design of the
potion. Only one who shares his blood can kill him. Only Harry Potter!

�If you try to kill him, you will only end up killing yourself trying;
nothing will work on his body, Weasley. Nothing. Now we need to leave,� Flint
finished.

Percy looked purposefully at Flint, then the body of Voldemort, then the
door. Unfortunately, his moment of thought and reflection was cut short by the
words, �Stupefy� and �great, arrogant git.�

Flint slung Percy�s arm and leg over his shoulders and carried him out
of the castle�s Anti-Apparation field before Apparating to a safer location �
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

My Skin Is Not My
Own�

Ginny gazed silently at her skin. It was silvery and silken. She could
see she was no longer human in that sense. She didn�t have any feelings of pain
or discomfort. In fact, Ginny felt great. She felt as though someone had
stripped her down to atoms and built her up better, stronger, faster all over
again. She flexed her fingers and marveled how her skin seemed to move
constantly. Well, not her skin specifically, but the wind reflected on her
skin.

Her hair was long and raged like a forest fire behind her. She saw this
in the mirror. However, it didn�t burn her surroundings. It was controlled and
only adopted the appearance of flames. She sighed, running her hands through
it. There was no texture, no heat, no mass � just fire.

But the mirror showed something more terrible, more frightening to her
than anything she had seen in it thus far � her eyes. They were an imitation of
marble, sparkling red with veins of silver running in them like a tornado. She
had to look hard to see the silver streaks, but they were there.

Reaching into her mind, Ginny realized she was no longer what she had
been for sixteen years of her life. Before, she was a normal girl. Well, as
normal as one could be. Sure, she was a Dreamweaver. It was a family trait.
Every family had those. Sure, she was an Elemental, a Wind-Fire Hybrid, first
of her kind, grand experiment of the Elements, but that had been an accident.
She had tried to live as normally as she could.

And now�what was she now? She was the ultimate Element. She wasn�t a
human, though not a shadow of a human as most Elements, such as Water,
Lightening, and Earth were. She was an Element in human form, so not truly a
human, but an Element wearing the mask of one. Two Elements to be precise �
Fire and Wind. She was Fire and Wind.

And try as she might, she couldn�t cry.

�My skin,� she murmured softly to herself, �is not my own. My skin is
not my own��

The man stood behind her again. Black eyes and black hair with a few
grays about the edges, broad and nearly two meters tall, he made a striking
figure in his black robes. He was always looking, always watching. He had
looked and watched ever since she woke. He didn�t say anything when she spoke
to him, asked him for his name, for help, and for information. She thought he
might be deaf or mute, or even both.

She was almost ready to get up and leave when the man finally spoke. �My
name is Duncan.�

Ginny bit her lip and looked down. �I�m Ginny�Ginny Weasley. Do you know
where we are?�

The man half smiled and nodded. �Far away from anything that will ever
bother you. Far away from fear and harm. Far away��

Ginny had her suspicions now. He seemed harmless, but a little insane.
He could be a psycho-wizard living in the woods because he enjoyed being
isolated and she was the first person he�d seen in a long time and that was why
he was so weird�but she didn�t think so.

She took a deep breath and sighed. �Do you know what happened to me?�
she asked.

He nodded his head. �You got tired after you escaped. You dug too deep
for your Elemental powers. They took you over. You unlocked the vault and
unlocked the forces within you. It was dangerous, but I found a way to control
them.�

Ginny�s eyes grew wide, and her voice pleaded with him. �Can I go home?
Please?�

The man, Duncan, just shook his head and smiled slightly. �You�re mine
now. You can�t do anything I say you can�t. I�m your master now.�

Teeth clenched and anger boiling over, Ginny stood up and moved to burn
the man to ashes.

�Sit!� the man barked.

Ginny sat and couldn�t get up. She writhed and whined and screamed and
yelled and used all her resources to get free. But she couldn�t. She sat there
still, and had a feeling she would sit there forever unless the door before
her, the one which didn�t let her access her powers, opened again. She wanted
to cry so desperately, but she couldn�t, so she sat there and glared at her
captor.

�What do you want with me? Why won�t you let me go? What did I ever do
to you?� she said angrily, her arms crossed before her.

Duncan�s eyes softened, and he moved towards her, getting on his hands
and knees in front of her on the floor. �You didn�t do anything to me. I won�t
let you go because I love you � you and your child. I don�t care whose it is;
it�ll be ours. And we can be happy together forever.�

Ginny felt her hands move unexpectedly to her stomach. Her jaw fell
open, and she reeled backwards, standing and going into a corner of the room to
sit. She knew. The baby was his. The baby was Draco�s. And now�now, no matter
how much she hated him, he might never see his child.

Ginny wished fervently for the ability to cry. No tears came.

��My skin is not my own.� � Leto Atreides, Frank Herbert�s Children
of Dune

��down� down� down� into the rabbit hole�� allusion to Lewis
Carroll�s Alice in Wonderland

�Morte D�Mordorde � I totally made this up. Roughly, it means
�The Life of Mordred.�

�Manifestation of Destiny � rip-off of Manifest Destiny (History Brief:
Manifest Destiny was the excuse the settlers used to cross the Mississippi
River and go west to California, Oregon , etc. It stated that it was the white
Christian�s right or destiny to own and exploit the continent of America.)
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