The Third War by dumbledorefluertwins
Chapter Notes: Here's the next chapter guys, sorry it took so long; for some reason, my beta sent it back, but I didn't get the email. **Shrugs**
By the way, updates might be a little slow from now on, because I'm trying to write a time travel story for the spring challenge - VERY DIFFICULT! When it's up, please read it!!! Anyway, I hope you all give me more reviews than I got on the last chapter - FIVE! For possibly the most difficult chapter for me to write and therefore the one I put most effort into and I only got five! Don't dissapoint me again, guys, you know how much I love reciving your reviews, even if their horrible ones!
~Evie
Ginny was roughly dragged to her feet, she didn’t struggle, it was as if she was in a trance. But tears still streamed down her face, an endless flow of salty water droplets, which clung to her pale face. She was almost deaf to Harry’s cries and pleas, to the Death Eater’s taunts and to the strange spell that the old, vulture-like man was chanting. All she could hear were her children’s voices, from memories, echoing in her head. Everything else seemed distant and far away.
She barely acknowledged the man as he raised the silver dagger above his pasty face, repeating the chant over and over again. She hardly noticed the two Death Eaters to either side of her back off, releasing their tight grip on her arms, leaving marks that would later become bruises, if given a couple of hours. She looked through tear filled eyes at the man, who was coming steadily closer, the knife gleaming from some unknown light source to the right of her.
Harry watched with horror, pleading, begging Bellatrix to let her go, to stop it. He would have stood and run up to Ginny, pulled her back, stood in the way, if it weren’t for the two Death Eaters pressing down upon his shoulders, preventing him from rising.
He soon began to plead with Ginny, screaming at her to turn and run, and never look back. But she didn’t seem able to hear him; she just stood there, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed, the bitter tears rolling down her face.
“DON’T GIVE UP, GINNY!” Harry yelled desperately, still struggling to get up. This seemed to snap her out of it. He watched as she suddenly reached out, trying to push the shining dagger away from her chest, struggling violently with the old man. One of the Death Eaters, seeing Ginny’s resistance, ran forward and joined the elderly man in trying to overpower Ginny.
Harry’s words had unleashed a new source of strength, power and determination from Ginny. She knew that she would not go down without a fight. Yes, over the last couple of days she had sunk into a depression, pining desperately for her children. This was meant to have stopped when Harry killed Voldemort, by kidnapping her children out of the blue and planning to use them to resurrect Voldemort, the Death Eaters had taken away her usual spunk and fierce determination. But now, she’d got it back.
Her arm strained as she tried to push the dagger away to the side, a bead of sweat trickling down her forehead. The old man continued to chant, she vaguely remembered being told in her seventh year that many ancient dark rituals required a chant to be spoken continuously during a sacrifice, if the chant was broken once it had begun, the ancient spell would not work. The obvious thing to do would have been to try and punch the man in the jaw, but the dagger tip was less than three inches from her chest, and another Death Eater was trying to push her to the ground.
Summoning up the last bit of strength inside her, she pushed the dagger up, while kneeing the old man in the stomach. He fell down, still gasping out the chant, shakily trying to stand again. Ginny, still feeling the other Death Eater’s pressure on her shoulders, bent over. The Death Eater did an untidy roll over her back landing on the old man, who was still chanting.
Ginny heard a shuddering gasp from the Death Eater. With repulsion, she saw the bloody tip of the dagger come through his back. She looked away. The old man scrambled up, apparently still as flexible and strong as he was when he was young. He kicked the dead Death Eater over.
“Philip’s dead,” he spat, looking into the glassy eyes of the dead Death Eater with disgust, no sorrow evident. He scowled at Ginny, then up at Bella.
“What am I meant to do now? I haven’t got the energy or the time to do that damn spell again.”
“There was a sacrifice, not the sacrifice we wanted, but a sacrifice nonetheless. The gate will open. Bring the blood traitor over here, we’ll tie her up again and deal with her later.” Ginny didn’t allow herself to be tied up as easily this time. She kicked and bit the Death Eaters, slapping several in the face and kicking one unfortunate male Death Eater where it hurts most.
It took a total of eight Death Eaters until she could be tied again, and she was still struggling and shouting. She was forced to kneel next to Harry in front of Bella again. She began throwing a volley of insults at Bella, who simply rolled her eyes at Ginny and pointed her wand at her lazily.
“Langlock. Your children will be arriving in a matter of minutes. It’ll be no use shouting, they won’t be able to hear you. You, Ginny, know the spell you’ve been placed under, one of the, ah, Half-blood Princes? Yes, you know it. And, Harry? You shouldn’t bother either.” She swept her wand in front of her, and a shimmering blue dome appeared, encasing Harry and Ginny in an electric blue dome, that disappeared in a few seconds. But Harry could still sense its presence, it was… static. Like, he remembered when he was a small child; putting his hand close to the television screen as his aunt turned it on. That brief second while his fingers tingled pleasantly, soon to be cut of by his aunt snapping at him to “get out of the bloody way”.
“This is another useful invention of Snape’s, although he invented this a couple of years ago, so you won’t find it in that book. No one outside the bubble can hear you aside from me, the caster of the spell. Don’t try and get out of the bubble because it’s very painful, isn’t it, Darius?” A small, nervous looking Death Eater nodded. All of the fingers on his right hand were missing. With that, she turned and left. Making her way over to the veil, which, for the first time in years, was not whispering. She bent down by Phillip, and dipped her fingers in the pool of crimson blood on the floor. She wiped it on the top of the arch, muttering some names as she did so.
“Rosaline Cutts, Danny Lupin, Lillian Potter…” Harry fumbled with Ginny’s ropes, trying to untie them. Death Eaters noticed but, knowing that they would not be able to escape the bubble, didn’t bother stopping them.
“Sirius Potter, Nicolas Taylor, Camilla Urquhart.” She stepped back grinning, as the gate opened. It sounded like a thousand windows shattering, and a great roaring noise, like a tornado emitted from it. There was a great swirling mass of colour, a warm breeze, which reminded Ginny of palm trees and glistening sands, seemed to blow through with such force that the torches that lit the large hall were snuffed out, the Death Eater’s hoods fell and everyone’s hair was blown back.
Harry squinted against the strong wind, his glasses giving little protection. The roaring noise seemed to grow quiet, but the strong wind continued. He finally managed to untie Ginny’s wrists, as she, in turn untied his.
“Hide the body! The children will arrive in one minute!” Two Death Eaters raced over to Phillips body and vanished it, along with the pool of blood.
“Now, all Death Eaters get behind the mirror!” bellowed Bella. The Death Eaters scuttled away, until the only ones left were Bella, the old Man, and Snape. Harry frowned in confusion when Bella flicked her wand at Snape, so he was almost cocooned in ropes. Snape smirked nastily as Bella gently placed a gag in his mouth.
“Sorry, Sev, I know this must be humiliating, but I promise you that the Dark Lord will hear of this, when he returns, of course.” After that, all was silent, until seven children, one woman, and a small table appeared in the centre of the hall. Harry and Ginny shouted their names, but it was no use, the strong bubble around them blocked out every sound made from within.
They made their way to the veil, and Sirius, observant as ever, looked up and noticed the smear of read on the archway.
“Blood! Whose blood is that? Someone was hurt!” Bella placed her hand soothingly on Sirius’ shoulder. Harry cried out in anger.
“Don’t worry, dear, blood was needed to open the gate, but I used my own. Just a small cut on the arm which can be easily healed. Now, come here, we need to attach you all before you go through, so you don’t get lost.” Bella finished speaking and held up a white and gold rope, made of a very soft, silky, material. She tied it loosely round each child’s wrist, and stepped back smiling widely.
“Now, Mr Shirley is going to do a very powerful chant, which will protect you as you go through, when I give the signal, you run through. You’ll just see a mass of colour at first, but keep walking straight and you’ll come through the emptiness. Remember; don’t talk to anyone there, except to find my dear Tom. Just tell one spirit-and only one- that you’re looking for him, and they’ll probably find him for you. If not, walk around and shout his name, you have all eternity. You’ll never age, and we will only have to wait a matter of seconds before you come through again.”
“What does he look like? We need to know, or we’ll never find him.” Bella sighed.
“In all honesty, I don’t know. From what I’ve studied, I believe that once you die, you may take the form of yourself at any age, but you must remember that this is what I translated from ancient Aztec scripts, so I may have some details confused.” All the children nodded, and asked a few more questions, except for Lillian. Her mind was still buzzing. Something was wrong… She was jerked out of her thoughts though, as a vulture like man began to chant, his hands outstretched towards the high ceiling, his eyes closed.
“GO!” The children ran towards the veil, knowing that their lives depended on their trust in Bellatrix Lestrange. However, as Lillian ran through the dark drapery, she remembered, in a rush of both satisfaction and horror exactly who Tom Marvolo Riddle was.