FicWad

I woke, disoriented, feeling fuzzy and dizzy. My left ear hurt and I raised a heavy hand to make sure that it was there. It was. Struggling to sit up, I groaned, deep and guttural. Ugh. I felt like utter crud; aside from the ear pain, all of my limbs felt heavy, my head groggy, and my right calf throbbed. I shook my head quickly at first, but more slowly when it started pulsing. What the hell happened, I wondered. Warily I opened my eyes. The room was dimly lit but still I blinked several times at the light. The walls were a paled orangish-brownish color and shelves lined each one except for the wall that held the door.
Looking down, I noticed that I was laying on a floor of checkered tiles, black, and the same grunge! My partially-zipped, light-colored sweater was covered in dirt and grass stains, my jeans forming their owned checkered pattern of brown, green, and red, no longer-- red? Tentatively, because it hurt so much. I reached a hand up to touch the mess along my right pant leg. It was mostly dry, but thick where I found wetness. The dull ache in my leg grew stronger where I touched it too. That's when I noticed many small rips within the splotches. Had something cut me? I faintly remembered something slashing at my legs, but from what... I couldn't positively say. I took careful inventory of my body then, reaching out with my senses and touching everything. Nothing was broken, as far as I could tell. I figured I could ask Pomfrey about it, but then I realized for all that my head was slow at the moment, that I wasn't at Hogwarts. I wondered then where the hell I was and how I got here. My memory failed to give me answers.
Slowly I got to my feet. Something told me that it would not be a good idea to stick around much longer. It hurt to stand on my injured leg and I wondered if one of the medical spells Hermione had taught me could do something about it. Tears sprung to my eyes at the thought of my best friend. Something happened to her, the thought came urgently, I hope she's okay. She has to be okay. I patted myself down for my wand, not finding it. The hell. If there was anything I remembered it was that Ginevra MY. Weasley goes nowhere but nowhere without her wand. I turned away form the door and back to the rest of the room. The shelves all held boxes and jars and bags of unknown material. A low table sat against the shelf ahead of me. I limped forward. Two boxes, a notebook, and a jar. That's what was before me. The same feeling that told me that I needed to get out told me that my wand was somewhere on this table. I opened one of the boxes first. Inside I found photographs, wizarding and muggle alike. I dumped them all out, hoping to find something useful beneath them all. Nothing. I stuffed the photographs back into the box, but not without noticing something.
One. Two. Three. Six. Ten.
I kept ten of those photographs. As I glanced at each one, a stab of hurt or fear pierced my heart. Harry. Pansy. Ron. Hermione. Neville. Luna. Blaise. Parvati. Draco. Myself.
Hunted.
The word echoed in my head and I knew it was true. We were being hunted. But by who? Why? I looked over their smiling faces once again. Each photo seemed to be cut from another, larger, one. Some of them looked to have once fit togeither. Pansy, Ron, Neville, Blaise and Parvati gave me a sad, hollow feeling when I glanced at theirs. I couldn't bring myself to even think the word, but my heart knew their fates. No more than three tears left my eyes before I forced myself to pay attention to the others, Harry, Hermione, Luna, Draco. My heart warmed when I though about my boyfriend. At least Draco was okay. For now. I could not help but worry, looking at them all. Where are they now? I wondered. Are they togeither still? Separated? With a start I realized that's what happened to me, I'd gotten separated from them, right around the time we were getting cut. That's where we lost Pansy too... Harry must be devastated. They must think that I'd fallen prey too! Hurried. I stuffed the photographs of my friends and myself into my back pocket and placed the lid on the box.
I glanced at the notebook. The mastermind's plans must be in there. I would have stolen a look if not for the nagging feeling in the back of my mind. I needed to be quick about finding my wand.
The nexit box was empty and the jar filled with a thick, foul-smelling, inky green liquid that reminded me of one of Madame Pomfrey's medical concoctions. I recovered it fast-like. Despite the feeling telling me I was missing something on the table, I started ransacking the shelves, attacking boxes and bags and checking every surface for the long, slender stick of wood that was my wand. Finally the nag in my head was unbearable. I returned to the table just as faint, echoing footsteps began to crescendo. A canister. There was a thick one, resting half on the shelf behind it, half on the table. Heart racing, I seized the whole thing and ran to the door.
I stood off to the side, listening, as I pried the lid from the canister. There could have easily been about twenty wands in there. I picked one, not caring if it were mine or not, but they were packed so tightly, I could hardly pry it loose. Rather than being caught off-guard, attempting to steal back someone's wand, I replaced the lid and waited. I slowed my breathing until it was nearly inaudible, but my heart was so loud in my ears that I was afraid "whoever" would surely hear. The footsteps halted right outside. Oh, hell. Luckily the burning oil lamps went out in the same instant. A set of keys jingled and I closed my eyes, wishing to be invisible. I scooted farther away from the door.
A pool of dim orange light preceded a black-clad figure. They stood in the doorway and I held my breath. What felt like an eternity later, they stepped forward. I backed farther into the darkness and stood still. Off to the right there was the lamp. As the mastermind approached the fixed, glass-globed lamp, I tiptoed out. I did not think I had him fooled. He let me escape. Sick bastard.
The corridor was lit with the same orangey dimness that the room was. Oil lamps lined the walls in alternating intervals. I wore a pair of thin flats and I could feel the raised patterned texiture of the metal through my shoes. I didn't realize that the checkered tile had been a relief to my sore feet--until now. As stealthily as I could manage, I jetted down the corridor and around the corner. I turned twice more before breaking out into a full sprint, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible. I kept straight for two turns then cut a left, colliding with something-- or someone. I cried out, falling hard against the metal floor; the canister clattered and rolled yards away. Panicked, and wishing that I had gotten a wand out, I jumped up and dived for the canister. I did not cast a look up. I just ran.
The heavy sound of my footsteps reverberated and mixed with those of my pursuer-- pursuers. That surprised me. So maybe the one I saw in that checkered room wasn't the real mastermind. Maybe there were several of them? All these thoughts only put more fear into my heart and my legs increased their pace. I heard one of them calling, but if it was to his partner, or me I couldn't tell and didn't pause to find out. I only knew the pounding of my feet against the metal, my labored breathing and sporadic breaths, the burning pain of my struggling lungs... I made several more turns, uncertain if I was heading toward or away from safety. Why the hell did I get separated from Draco and the others? I shook my head as I ran. I turned another corner. My foot caught on the wall and once again I went sprawling across the texitured floor. I lost the canister. I lost my breath. I lost the race. Most definitely and most importantly, I lost my life. I couldn't do anything but wait for my pursuers to catch up to me and finish what they didn't earlier.
"Ginny!" The voice was familiar, just above me. My eyes were closed but I couldn't bring myself to open them. "Ginny!" He sounded panicked, yet still I wouldn't, couldn't really, look up at him. It's not impossible to disguise a voice.
"Ginevra, open your eyes." This voice was different. Warm. Cold. Calculating. Loving. "You aren't dead, not yet." I couldn't resist. It had to be him. I struggled to push my lids back, my body was so exhausted.
"Draco," I whispered, my eyes landing on his melted-ice-pool irises. I breathed easer, only the slightest bit. I turned my glance to a par of acid-green orbs. "Harry." I sighed. That was two knots loosened in my chest. I looked around, struggling to sit up. Draco helped me. My heart sank. "Hermione and... Luna?" I knew without asking the result.
"They're... gone. Luna was crushed and Hermione..." Harry shook his head. While his face betrayed no emotion, his voce cracked and I could tell that he was close to tears. Both of his best friends dead in a matter of hours and he had no idea who to blame. My throat closed as well as I thought of my own besties, not even able to imagine their bodes. Instead I looked down the corridor, searching for my prize. The canister from the checkered room had rolled several yards away. I pointed it out and Harry retrieved it while Draco asked me questions about my health and how I'd managed to escape the sure death that had awaited me. As relieved as he was to see me, I could tell he was skeptical that it was really me. So I told him and Harry about waking in the room with checkered tiles and finding the photographs and canister of wands. I told them how I believed that the mastermind let me leave so that I could either escape or find them with the wands. Harry finally pried one loose and Draco used it to heal my leg to the best of his abilities. Several of my cuts had opened wider, turning my right pant leg bright with blood. it was sticky and uncomfortable, but I could deal.
Draco grabbed my hand as we walked, a sure sign that he'd truly been worried. Draco wasn't much for PDA, even in private, bit I could always persuade him sometimes. However I could not bring myself to enjoy the moment. It only came from fear and worry, I knew. Draco didn't want to lose me again. I gripped his hand tightly. I didn't want to lose him either.
There was no way to tell where the exit was. None of us knew how we'd gotten here and there were no building maps either. Actually, the place where I'd gotten separated from everyone else didn't look a thing like this. And the room where we'd all woken up and where Neville drowned looked nothing like that either. I ask to question where we were and what this place was, but now was not the time. Not knowing the layout, we simply wandered the corridors. I couldn't tell if we were anywhere near the checkered room or not, the corridors all looked the same. I read somewhere that it was a sign of... some type of mental something. By keeping the halls identical to one another, it was easier to confuse intruders-- or victims in this case. The mastermind would have a sense of control, a greater sense than taking our wands and killing us off one-by-one. At one point I'd suggested that we just blast apart one of the walls, but both Harry and Draco were quick to tell me that if the wall was not one of the outside walls that it would be counter-productive. The explosion would lead the mastermind to our location and bring us unwanted attention. I gripped my wand in my left hand, my right grasped in Draco's. I itched to do something. My fingers twitched upward, moving in spell patterns and flicks to soothe myself, but it didn't work like actually performing the magic. It was frustrating. Draco squeezed my hand, a warning as much as it was reassurance. He must have felt my tension.
Minutes-- hours?-- later, the three of us were standing on a terrace about four stores from the ground floor. Relief flooded through me. We were almost out, we could finally rest. I slumped over and lad my head on Draco's shoulder. I'd started feeling sluggish and my head was feeling groggier than when I'd woken in the checker-tiled room. Draco's hand in mine was the only thing that kept me going. We approached the rail, looking out into the larger room. Harry, beside Draco, pointed.
"Look over there-- that's the exit." he indicated a pair of double doors with a neon-red sign over the top reading, EXIT. Harry pointed in a different direction. "Over there's the stairwell." I craned my neck.
"Where?" I asked, unable to see. Harry leaned forward on the rail.
"Right th-- augh!" Before either Draco or I knew what was happening, Harry was on the ground, limp and unmoving, his limbs bent at odd angles. A section of the rail lay beneath him. I cried out, my eyes not moving from his body. Harry could not be dead, it was impossible. He was the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, our Savior. The three of us had made it to the end of this fucked-up game. The exit was right there, for gods' sakes! Warm tears streaked down my face and my legs gave out from under me. The mastermind wasn't fished yet. There weren't going to be any breaks for us. We weren't safe.
"Ginny," Draco called softly. "G-Ginny, please, don't. I can't..." Draco didn't know what to say. He wasn't used to me crying. Hell, I wasn't used to me crying. This wasn't something he could say "it will all be okay" to and be done. Harry was dead. All of our friends were dead. We were the last. The only. And it wasn't guaranteed that we would live.
Draco squatted down in front of me, placed his hands on either side of my face and forced me to look at him. "I'm not going to play around and say that it will be okay because it's not." He spoke almost as if he'd read my thoughts. "But listen-- we aren't safe yet. You can't break down yet. We're almost out, but anything can happen, just like it did to him. I can't tell you that it will all be over, but we will most definitely be safer out there than in here. Pull yourself togeither, Ginevra, okay?" Draco was the only one besides my mother who could address me by my full name. I liked how it sounded when he sad it, and he liked the name. I nodded, wiped my eyes and attempted to stand. My legs felt numb and I could hardly move them. Draco realized something was wrong.
"Ginny? Are you aright?" I shook my head.
"I don't... my legs aren't working right," I told him. I gripped his shoulders as Draco lifted me to a standing position. I fell as soon as he let me go. After two more failed attempts, Draco put me on his back and I clung to his neck.
"I saw where," he stumbled shyly over Harry's name, "was pointing. The stairwell shouldn't be too far from here."
Draco jogged to another set of double doors around the corner from the Terrace of Death. The ride was predictably bouncy, but I wasn't complaining. I knew Draco was dong whatever he could to get us out of the building safely. At the bottom of the stairwell I asked Draco to stop. I pulled the wand he'd claimed from the canister from his pocket and handed it to him.
"We don't know if he's down here," I told him. "And please, try to avoid..." I didn't need to say it. My heart felt like somebody had an iron fist around it, it hurt so much. I took several deep breaths to calm myself and closed my eyes.
"No, you take it." Draco told me. "I'll be concentrating on getting us across. Besides," Draco pushed open the doors, "you're quicker than I am." I opened my eyes and focused. My head felt a little worse than before and it was all I could do to hold on to Draco's waist. But I complied only nodding so he could feel it against his neck.
Despite my desire to avoid it, my eyes searched for Harry's body. I glanced up and found the terrace and the missing piece of rail Harry had fallen from, but below-- nothing.
"Draco," I pointed to the grounded section of rail. "He's... he's gone." Draco stopped.
"The hell--?" he changed course, going to examine the spot.
"You don't think... Harry couldn't still be alive, could he?" Draco shook his head.
"No, that was the fourth floor, sixty feet at least. Nobody could survive that. And head first?" Draco shook his head again, out of shock and confusion this time, rather than disagreement. "Ginny, give me that wand." I did. Keep yours out too. I've got a feeling..." anything else he might have sad was lost when we were thrown sideways. Draco landed on his back and in turn, me, before rolling about four feet away. I looked up to see the same black-dressed man from the checker-tiled room. I struggled to sit up and pulled my wand from my belt loops. The mastermind flicked his wand at me and I flew further backwards, my wand flying from my hand. I hit the wall hard, my head making a solid thmp! against it. I sank to the floor, my vision blurred with colored dots and bright white stars. The spot right between my eyes throbbed forcefully. I didn't want to get up but when I heard an agonizing scream, I fought to orient myself and find my wand. My legs still did not work properly, so I did a sort of crawl, dragging myself forward with my arms as if my lower limbs had been crushed and rendered useless. A deranged vision of Luna popped into my head and I decided that that may have been the wrong simile. I felt around for the slender stick of wood my and Draco's lives depended on. The seconds ticked by slowly as I searched still half-blind, and the screams of who I knew had to be Draco grew even louder until it was the only sound in my ears. Where the hell was the stupid thing?!
Finally after what felt like hours of torture and seeking, my fingertips connected with the magical tool. I whipped around, the first spell I could think of falling from my lips and the words' echo bouncing against the metal structures. The effects off the Cruciatus Curse ceased and those of my infamous Bat-Boogey Hex commenced. Draco collapsed, limp on the ground and I crawled over to him. Before I said anything, he was struggling to turn over.
"I'm alright," he sad, "But that...." Draco pointed to the cloud of darkness and conjured bats surrounding the mastermind, "That's not... going to last... long." As Draco said the words, my spell began to fade. Anyone else could deliver a pathetic Bat-Boogey Hex, but mine were mastered to the point of almost-permanence. People I hexed had nightmares for days. How did this one only manage to stick for five minutes?
"Stupefy." The simple Stunning Charm would suffice for us to escape, that much I was positive. "Can you stand?" Draco struggled to his feet clumsily. I couldn't help but think that either that Cruciatus was powerful beyond measure, or it wasn't an Unforgivable at all. Parts of his body kept twitching.
"Yes, but I don't think I can hold you," I looked down. I just felt so slow and groggy and disoriented.... I wondered, What happened to me before I woke up? Neither Harry nor Draco showed signs of being messed up as I was, and the cuts on my leg throbbed. Something happened to me while I was knocked out in the checkered room, maybe before then.
"I'm not sure if I can hold myself," I admitted, reaching up to Draco. My left leg could support me a little better than my right, but only slightly.. Draco still carried most of my weight. Outside it seemed to be predawn. We ambled forward, more slowly than either of us really wanted to go. I shot another Stunning Spell at the mastermind before we closed the door behind us.
Several times I begged Draco to stop and leave me behind, but each time he only gripped my waist tighter and told me, for the sake of being blunt, to shut the hell up and keep moving. I wanted to scream, Can't you see I'm in pain? Let me de in peace! If you love me, leave me! Of course, I couldn't bring myself to say the words, because I loved him too much.
An incessant ticking became all too noticeable after yards-- miles?-- of walking. I searched our surroundings, but all I found was the dirt road in front of us, the dirt behind us, and the trees that bordered it. Obviously Draco heard it too because his head swiveled around as often as mine did.
It was minutes-- I was sure this time-- later that Draco stopped walking and exclaimed, "Bloody hell!" I looked up from laying my head on Draco's shoulder. I was so tired.... I was shocked from my drowsiness by the sight before me.
That cruel, deranged, piece of monster. I would have been sick had I the energy to do so. And I couldn't advert my eyes from the trees. Beside me, Draco stood just as fixated as I was.
Neville, looking as washed-up and pale as anyone drowned would.
Ron, the razor-sharp arrow still lodged sideways through his skull. His face was covered in so much thick blood that it almost looked liked paint.
Parvati and Blaise, their charred-grilled forms barely recognizable.
Pansy, her skin disgusting and raw where the blades made deep gashes. I could have easily been her.
Luna's bones poked through her flesh, her perpetually serene expression now haunting.
Hermione... I couldn't be sure that she was all there...
Harry, broken and limp.
They all stared, blank-eyed and terrifying. The mastermind had taken the bodies and hunt them with the trees, coupled up: Neville tied with Luna; Ron surrounded with the pieces of Hermione; Parvati and Blaise still held one another; Pansy and Harry. I gripped Draco's forearm tighter. We could have been there. I should have been up there. Any of those couples hanging from those trees.... This all was just too fucking real.
"Please," my voce was barely audible. "Let's go. Now." Draco nodded and we continued up the dirt trial. I tried to keep my gaze down on the stretch of brown before me, but somehow I kept finding myself looking into the trees and into the eyes of dozens of other corpse couples.
My feet dragged along the ground. I could barely move them. I allowed Draco to carry me in his arms. We moved quicker now that he was recovered.
The ticking increased in frequency. We couldn't seem to get away from it though we were certain that we weren't moving towards it. So we ignored it and hoped that it would go away.
At the end of the Forest of the Dead, as I'd dubbed it, Draco finally realized something-- he was the ticking noise. It would have taken me no time at all to realize that there was some form of explosive in Draco's wrist watch had my had been clear. That was the first point. The second was that Draco was unable to pull the watch off. Permanent Sticking Charm. None of the spells either of us could think of were able to disarm the explosive either. Draco had been right, it wasn't over. I no longer believed that I was safe.
"Ginny," Draco spoke with barely a hint of emotion. "You need to walk. You have to. I can't... You can't stay with me anymore. if I'm going to-- if I'm going to die, I want you to be safe. You have to be." I nodded but he didn't understand, I couldn't move. I couldn't force myself to. It was all I could do to remain conscious, to be alert. I told him so, but to no avail. Draco wouldn't hear of it. The ticking escalated.
"It shouldn't be that hard. Come here." There was no point in the order, not like I was going anywhere. Draco crouched over me and pulled up my right pant leg, revealing the many small cuts he'd healed earlier. I gasped. Where there used to be one healed bright crimson slash, there was now a deep purple, bruise-like scar. Draco ran a finger over the dried blood still covering my leg and sniffed. I didn't know what he was dong, or if the frown that creased his forehead was him getting upset or him concentrating. Seconds later, Draco was prodding each former cut with his stolen wand and muttering something under his breath. Slowly, I gained feeling in my leg, albeit a heavy one. I stood up it didn't bother me so much anymore. The ticking did.
Draco did the same to the two cuts on my left leg and instructed me, "Go. Get yourself to a hospital. And...." he reached out, cupped my face and kissed me. While it was the most amazing thing I'd ever experienced, it scared me-- I'll never see him again. Tears sprang to my eyes and I hurriedly brushed them away when we were finished. "You didn't need to cry," he ordered. "Just know that I love you." I nodded. I knew that. He'd never told me before, and it killed me-- wrong adjective-- that it had to be now that he did, but I already knew nonetheless.
"Yeah. I love you too." I told him. There was nothing left to do. I took two tough steps backward, turned, and began running. The ticking was going at an alarming rate. The greater distance I could put between us, the greater chance I had of not being within proximity of the explosion.
My legs felt as if I'd stumble over them at any moment. My lungs were once again on fire. My heart thudded loudly in my ears. I doubted that I'd even gone a decent mile before I felt heat at my back. I increased my pace as much as I could while fighting back tears. It was only me now. I was officially alone.

I staggered into the ER doors and went directly to the woman at the desk.
"I need... help..." I struggled to speak. My throat felt like it was closing. My limbs weighed a ton and it was a wonder I could keep breathing. My heart thudded too loudly and too slow. I could barely hold on to consciousness. I was just so tired!
"Okay, can you fill this out please?" the receptionist requested. Like hell I was going to fill that thing out! Who did she...? The thought escaped me before I could finish it. The woman behind the desk held a clipboard to me and I took it, leaning against the wall for support.
NAME: Ginny Weasley.
DATE OF BRITH: August 11, 1998
ADDRESS: The Burrow. But no, they don't know where that it is. What do you call that area? Surrey? No, that was Harry. Oh, Harry... Oxford? No, that wasn't it either. Where...?
My thoughts became burry and through a haze I remembered telling the woman that I couldn't fill the paper out. I wanted to sleep. I needed to sleep. But something told me that if I did, I wouldn't wake back up. So what? I wouldn't have to deal with realty. I won't have to worry about psycho killers. That would be fine by me. So I slumped down the wall, the clipboard held to my chest and slept.