The Rebirth

Chapter 10

The Life Debt

January 9, 1998

Shannon held her wand up in front of her face. "Coadunatio Draco Malfoy." The wand glowed blue, trembled slightly, and then returned to normal. It was the spell Draco had taught her to use when she wanted to talk to him. It caused his wand to vibrate as well, informing him that she had news and would be waiting in their designated meeting spot, an unused classroom in a corridor off the entrance hall. By the light of her wand, Shannon glanced at the chairs that faced the long-unused blackboard, but then looked at the thick patina of dust and grime that covered every surface and elected to stand. The black trousers she wore belonged to Gwen, who would have a heart attack if Shannon returned them in anything less than pristine condition.

The door creaked open and Draco eased into the room. Shannon tilted her head curiously; she had never seen him look anything less than one hundred percent neatly put together. This evening, although he was still in his school clothes, his unclasped robes billowed about his body. He had discarded his gray sweater, and his green and silver striped tie hung, unknotted, around his neck. Shannon's heart beat hard against the inside of her ribs; he was even more handsome when disheveled than he was when impeccably dressed. Through a supreme effort, she pulled herself together and observed, "You look like you've been through the wringer. Who was she?"

Draco shot her a dirty look. "Lumos." The glow from his wand enhanced the light from hers, but the room was still quite dark. "I was reviewing for a very important Transfiguration exam, if you must know. This had better be good."

"It's about Ginny," Shannon told him, silently thanking the gods for giving this beautiful person such a terrible superiority complex. It seemed only fair; otherwise the girls of Hogwarts wouldn't stand a chance. She herself wouldn't have had anything to do with him if he hadn't offered her the golden opportunity to work for the downfall of Voldemort while still preserving the rights and privileges of the pureblooded class.

"I figured that it's about Ginny," he said, his tone scathing and impatient. He was not pleased at being called away from his books; it would take him another half-hour at least to put himself back in the proper frame of mind for studying. "All right, what burning news did you call me up here to report? Did she have a fight with her brother? Get top marks on a DADA assignment? Agree to be the test subject for another of Winters's stupid beauty charms?"

Shannon rolled her eyes. "Those things happen all the time."

"I know. So unless you have some actual, pertinent information for me, I'm going back to Slytherin."

"Dumbledore took Ginny to the hospital wing."

Draco's eyes widened in interest and he opened his mouth to speak, but a sneeze came out instead. Shannon giggled. She'd never imagined Malfoy sneezing. She'd always figured he had house elves to do it for him. He cast a baleful look around the dusty room and said, "First order of business tomorrow is finding a new place to meet. The amount of dust in here is absolutely unreal."

"Are you allergic?" she couldn't resist asking.

He stopped short. "I...yes, I am. Back to the matter at hand—"

"There's a potion you can take, you know. To combat allergies."

"I know, Shannon. I took some last season." His irritated look only grew darker when he sneezed again, twice in quick succession.

"Maybe you should take some more. I think it's worn off."

"Your," sneeze, "concern is duly noted. Now," he trained his blue-gray eyes on Shannon, "why is Ginny in the hospital wing? Is she sick?"

"No, she's going to be fine." Shannon told Draco all about Ginny and Ria's run in with the Dementor, and how Dumbledore had sent Ria back to Gryffindor and whisked Ginny off to see Madame Pomfrey. Draco would have bet every Galleon in his father's Gringotts vault that the Headmaster hadn't taken her to the hospital wing. He turned Fudge's behavior over in his mind. Draco had been present when the Dark Lord had put the Minister under the Imperius Curse at Christmas. If Fudge had brought a Dementor to the school, it was because Voldemort had ordered him to do so. But why would the Dark Lord have wanted...oh. Well, that had been a useful epiphany. He'd have to speak with Blaise and Alicia as soon as possible. After he got some of that allergy potion. While he was in the hospital wing, he'd check to see if Ginny was there.

Shannon stood silently, allowing him to think. Draco briefly considered filling her in, but thought better of it. He still wasn't completely sure of her loyalties. Someday she'd be in his inner circle; she had the magical potential for it, as well as the devotion to his cause. But not yet, not until he'd thoroughly tangled her in his web. "Thank you," he told her.

Shannon's lips quirked up in obvious pleasure. "Did you just thank me?"

"Your information was helpful. Good manners dictate that I express my appreciation." Sneeze.

She had never met another seventeen-year-old boy who spoke that way, like an adult. Still, she said, "I'm sorry, but the snide condescension isn't believable when you're having an allergy attack. I'm afraid you'll just have to be genuine for a few minutes."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time. Thanks for the tip." He smiled at her, a real smile, and she almost melted. Almost, but not quite. Remembering just in time that it was Malfoy looking at her like that, she said, "I didn't do it for you. I'm not doing anything for you. I'm in this to save the wizarding people."

"In that case, the wizarding people thank you." He cracked the door open and looked out into the hall. "We should leave separately. Why don't you go now, and I'll wait a few minutes."

"Why?"

Sneeze. "You wouldn't want any Gryffindors seeing us together. Your stock would plummet."

He had a point. Shannon extinguished her wand and started for the door. Just before leaving, she turned to him and said, "You might want to tidy yourself up a bit. You're a mess."

Draco looked down at his clothes, their unkempt state just fine for lounging on his bed reading Transfiguration but not the thing for wandering around school hallways. He had an image to maintain, after all. He nodded to Shannon and said, "Remember, we need a new meeting place. A room without dust."

"I'll see what I can do." Shannon tossed him a cheeky grin as she left. She had no intention of finding a new meeting place. It had been so funny to see him sneezing his head off. It made him seem nearly...human.

Draco waited a while, working out what he was going to tell Blaise and Alicia about the Dark Lord's attack plan, and neatening his appearance, knotting his tie and fastening the clasps on his robes. After enough time had elapsed for Shannon to reach her dorm twice over, he left the classroom and shut the door firmly behind him.

* * * * *

Harry exited the greenhouse, holding the door open for Neville. The cold snap of winter air after the warmth in the glass building shocked his skin. "Thanks for the extra help," he told his roommate.

"Anytime," Neville said cheerfully. "You shouldn't have any trouble on the exam, if you reread the chapters on flying ferns and divining weed."

Harry privately thought that the Herbology exam would be quite a bit more difficult than Neville seemed to think, but was grateful to his friend for tutoring him. As they neared the castle doors, Harry saw one of them creak open and a petite, red-haired figure slipped out. He knew right away that it was Ginny and he could tell by her posture and the slow, deliberate way she walked that something was wrong.

"Who's that?" Neville asked. "Doesn't she know that the Headmaster said nobody is allowed outside after dark unless they're doing schoolwork?"

"It looks like Ginny. See the hair?" Harry said. "I'm sure she's out here for a good reason. Why don't you go on in? I'm going to say hello."

Neville nodded. "All right, then. I'll see you back at Gryffindor."

As his classmate entered the school, Harry lengthened his stride to intercept her as she stalked towards the oak tree that guarded the banks of the lake. "Gin, wait up!" he called, the words sweeping to her ears on the chill wind that ruffled his hair and pinked his cheeks.

She stopped mid-stride and turned. When he got close enough to see her face, Harry paused. The smile slipped from his face. To anyone who wasn't Harry, Ginny looked furious. He recognized, however, that she was afraid, and she was using anger to counter her fear. It was acceptable for Gryffindors to be enraged, less so for them to be frightened. "What happened?"

Her throat worked; it kept closing up, she couldn't speak. Finally, she forced the words out, her voice higher than usual. "Dumbledore took me in his Pensieve."

Harry didn't like the sound of that. "What did you see?"

Ginny shut her eyes, but the gruesome scene was branded on the back of her eyelids. "Professor Moody."

"Oh, Gin." Harry wanted nothing more than to fold her in his arms and give her a reassuring hug, but he didn't dare touch her. If he showed her any sympathy, she'd break down. Ginny wouldn't thank him for shattering her control; she hated to show weakness.

She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. "It was terrible. And he brought up auror training again. I didn't know what to say." She raised her eyes to his; they were dark, and bleak. "Harry, what am I going to do?"

"Did you know that Seamus and Dana were in Hogsmeade the night the Death Eaters attacked?" he asked. Ginny shook her head, and he continued, "Apparently Dana has some Otherworldly powers. She used them on a Dark Wizard."

"I know she has a bit of power," Ginny acknowledged. "Her sister does too. I saw it on Christmas."

"Gin, they tried to grab her when they saw that her magic was silver. If Dumbledore hadn't shown up when he did, Dana would've been Voldemort's prisoner. That could've been you."

"But it wasn't."

"But it could've been," he insisted. "You need to learn how to fight them off. You need to know the things auror training will teach you, so that someday you can face Voldemort on equal footing."

She exhaled, a harsh sound that wasn't quite a sigh. "That's not likely to ever happen, is it? Equal footing? He's had about forty years practice at being a Dark Lord, and I've only been the Pendragon for two months."

"You've been the Pendragon for sixteen years. Longer than that, even. Auror training will start you out."

Ginny was quiet for a moment. She looked at the ground, at his trainers, scuffed and dirty against the rich white of the snow. "You should go," she said, glancing at the oak. It beckoned her, promised to soothe her frayed nerves and anxious mind. "I have to...You should go." Ginny thought she should inform Harry of Fudge and the Imperius curse, but she just didn't have the energy.

"Will you be okay walking back to Gryffindor on your own?"

"I'm not a little girl, Harry. I think I can handle it."

He didn't take exception to her sharp tone. "I'll see you later then."

"Sure." She watched him walk the way she'd come, towards the castle. Her head down, fighting for control, Ginny walked over to the tree, wrapped her arms around it, and rested her cheek against its rough, cold bark. Trees were balm to her soul; she felt better almost immediately.

* * * * *

Draco was on his way through the entrance hall toward the stairs that led to the hospital wing. When he paused to blow his nose in a handkerchief emblazoned with the Malfoy crest, something out the window caught his eye. Potter and Ginny Weasley stood outside, illuminated by the glow from the torches that sat in brackets along the outside walls of the school. They were talking so intently, a flaming meteor could've crashed into the front of the castle and Draco didn't think the Gryffindors would've paid it the slightest bit of attention. Then, Harry turned and walked towards the building.

Draco leaned against the banister of the main staircase and waited. Potter was a strong wizard; one of the strongest Draco knew. He had rebuffed Draco's offer of friendship before, but some impulse told the Slytherin to extend the invitation once again. He loathed Potter, and probably always would, but personal dislikes had no place in his plan. With the Pendragon's other protector devoted to his cause, he'd have no problem bringing her under his control. Draco was going make his rival an offer he wouldn't refuse, unless he was abysmally daft. If Potter turned him down, more fool him.

The door latch echoed in the cavernous hall. Harry got three steps into the room before he noticed his nemesis leaning indolently against the stair rail. He'd have to walk by to get to Gryffindor tower. Silently repeating Hermione's words, He's not worth the loss of house points. Don't let him get to you. Whatever he says, he's not worth it, Harry held his chin high and walked toward the stairs, devoting every fiber of his being to ignoring Malfoy.

Unfortunately for Harry, Draco would not be ignored. He stood up straight and placed himself directly in the Gryffindor's path. "I'm glad you're here, Potter. There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

His tone gave Harry pause. Not since that morning on the Hogwarts Express six years ago had Draco spoken to him in a voice free from venom and malice. "What do you want?"

"I need to ask you something," Draco said, stepping down onto the stone floor and walking over to face Harry. The Gryffindor was an inch shorter than he; this pleased him. It gave him a psychological edge.

"Ask me something?" Harry wondered if maybe Malfoy was ill, or had amnesia, or anything that might explain his sudden change of attitude. He wasn't friendly, but he wasn't seething with animosity either. This was enough to put Harry on guard.

"How devoted are you, exactly, to the fight to overthrow Voldemort?" Draco asked, trailing his fingers along the windowsill and glancing out at the school grounds. In the moonlight he could just barely see Ginny, her arms thrown around a tree. How very strange.

Harry straightened and shot Draco a suspicious look. "That's a stupid question."

"There are no stupid questions. Only stupid people."

Harry drew his wand, not sure whether Malfoy had just insulted him. Draco held out his hands, palms facing Harry. "Pax, Potter. I'm not here to fight; I'm here to talk. What if I told you that our goals aren't so different?"

It wasn't sporting to point a wand at an unarmed opponent, so Harry slowly slid it back into his pocket. Draco lowered his hands and continued talking, seeing that he had the Gryffindor's curiosity. "I want to talk to you about the Dark Lord. I think you and I can both agree that he needs to be stopped."

Harry walked over, joining Draco at the window. "Can we agree on that?" he asked, wondering if perhaps he had misjudged Malfoy all this time. Or if he was being set up.

"We can, and we do," Draco confirmed. "The two of us both plan to devote our lives to bringing about his downfall, just as Professor Moody did, and your father. If we worked together, think of how much we could accomplish."

"You're lying," Harry snapped, furious that Draco would even pretend to have anything in common with his father. "Your family's all as dark as they come. You'd never work against Voldemort unless there was something in it for you." His eyes widened at the look that crossed Draco's face, an acknowledgement of the truth of Harry's statement.

"Very good, Potter. There is something in it for me, and for you too, if you're smart and play your cards right."

"The death of the darkest wizard in history is enough payment for me."

"How dreadfully noble of you." Draco paused, weighing his words carefully. He couldn't sound as though he was maligning the Headmaster; Potter worshipped the ground his idol walked on. "Tell me, what has Dumbledore offered you after Voldemort is gone?"

"I don't understand."

"Has he given you any promises? Any guarantees of your place in the new order of things?"

"What do you mean?" Harry said slowly, wondering what Malfoy's point could possibly be. Whatever it was, Harry didn't think he was going to like it.

"The new order of things," Draco repeated. "With Voldemort gone, the world is going to change substantially. New people will rise, old players will be swept away."

"This is why you want Voldemort gone, then? So you can get power for yourself?"

"You have an annoying talent for making delightful words like 'power' sound quite distasteful. Tell me, Potter, what's wrong with power? You enjoy it yourself, on the Quidditch pitch, and at Dueling Club. This is just power on a grander scale—you love it so much now, imagine how you'll feel then. You could make those relatives of yours cower at your feet."

At his mention of the Dursleys, Draco glimpsed the same hungry desperation he'd seen in Delia Silvermoon. He'd found Potter's price. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Draco continued, his gaze trained, unblinking, on Harry's. "Paying them back for all the years they mistreated you, am I right? Giving them exactly what they deserve. Don't tell me you haven't dreamed about it. I can give it to you."

"Why would you do that?" Harry asked. Six and a half years of mistrust for Malfoy were not so easily forgotten. "Why would you ever give me anything?"

"I told you, we have a common goal, such as it is. I want the Dark Lord gone just as badly as you do. And it just so happens that you have something I want."

Harry would've laughed, had Draco not looked so earnest. "You can't be serious. The two of us, fighting him together..." he trailed off at the odd look on Draco's face.

"Not the two of us." He cast a look outside at Ginny, and then turned back to face Harry. "The three of us."

The exchange between Ginny and Dumbledore the night they'd found out about the Pendragon rushed into Harry's head. "Or the second protector is the son of a Death Eater." "That is also a very real possibility."

Harry stared at Draco. "You're the other one!"

"I am," he confirmed. "It's in her best interests that you and I stand together. I'm offering you the opportunity to work for the overthrow of Voldemort, with the promise of a vast amount of personal power afterwards. It's certainly more than Dumbledore can give."

"You're not including Dumbledore in this scheme of yours?" Harry asked, but then he answered his own question. "Of course not. He'd be in the way of your power trip."

"We don't need him," Draco said. "Not as long as we have her. We'll use her to snuff out the Dark Lord, and then we'll step in and fill the power vacuum."

"Who's we?"

"What, you think you're the first person I've talked to? There's a group of us, small right now but growing all the time. By ourselves, we wouldn't stand a chance against the Dark Lord. But she's the ultimate weapon."

"But she's not a weapon," Harry protested. This conversation was making his head spin. "She's a person, and she'd never help you set yourself up in Voldemort's place."

"She would, if you supported my cause as well. As her protectors, the two of us together will be able to control her; you more so, since she already trusts you. This is what I'm asking in exchange." At Harry's dawning revulsion, Draco snapped, "Don't think I can't get to her without your help, Potter. Your support would make my path easier, but if you say no that doesn't mean I'm giving up on her." His face took on a cruel leer. "Think of your relatives, and how much you'd love to make them beg for mercy. You want that more than you want your next breath. You couldn't ever tell Weasley or Granger; they'd only judge you for it. But you and I understand each other. Take my hand, and we'll have a bargain. Revenge on your family and power beyond your wildest dreams in exchange for your aid in controlling the Pendragon."

Harry looked at Draco's outstretched hand. Ending Voldemort and revenge on the Dursleys...In exchange for your aid in controlling the Pendragon. His confused thoughts crystallized; he raised his eyes to the young man's face. "Her name is Ginny," he said, "and you can go fuck yourself."

Draco blinked in surprise, and then slowly withdrew his hand, wondering where his misstep had been. "It was worth a try," he said with a smirk. Potter was too blind to see which way the wind was blowing, and someday he'd pay for it with his life.

"When she finds out what you're planning, she'll never want anything to do with you," Harry bit out.

Draco didn't want Ginny to discover his identity for a long time; the closer she was to him, the more likely it was that Voldemort would steal her away before he was in a position to keep her. In addition, if Potter spilled his identity now, he'd have years to poison Ginny's mind against Draco and his plan. Priority number one was to keep Potter from talking. Time for some damage control. "You're going to inform her, then? So this is the fabled Gryffindor cunning at work. By all means, tell her about me. It sounds like a fantastic plan. A real winner."

Harry glared at Draco, but didn't dignify the Slytherin's taunting with a response. He was too busy holding himself back from breaking that elegant Malfoy nose to be capable of rational speech. Draco, seemingly oblivious to Harry's internal struggle, kept on talking. "I mean, I'm sure the Mórrígan has told her she has to find both protectors. Of course," and now he shot Harry a shrewd look, "I'm equally sure Dumbledore has told her to do no such thing. He wouldn't want to risk exposing her identity to Voldemort; there's no way he'd know that I'm just as much against the Dark Lord as you are, albeit for different reasons."

"What's your point?" Harry hissed through clenched teeth. Being around Malfoy made him feel unclean; he needed a long, hot shower to wash away the mental grime.

"My point is, if you tell her that I'm her other protector, she'll be in a bit of a quandary. Does she avoid me, or does she rush out and complete the mental link? Who to obey? The Mórrígan or Dumbledore? Which do you think she'd choose, Potter? And how badly would her choice hurt the Headmaster's cause? I do live in Death Eater headquarters, after all. My plan could be exposed at any time. If I were linked with Ginny, Voldemort would know it in a heartbeat. All it would take is a bit of Veritaserum."

Harry felt ill. Draco had him cornered, that's all there was to it. He couldn't tell Ginny that Draco was her other protector. After Dumbledore's Pensieve display earlier that day, she'd jump at any opportunity to defy him. There was no question in Harry's mind that Ginny would choose Mórrígan. No doubt the goddess had her reasons for wanting Ginny to find both protectors as soon as possible, but that wasn't Harry's problem. His loyalty was to Dumbledore, and to the Headmaster's fight against Voldemort. "Never mind," Harry said, angry at being outmaneuvered. "I won't say a word."

"Then this conversation stays between us," Draco said, casting another glance out the window. Ginny had just detached herself from the oak and was moving toward the castle. "May the best man win, Potter." He brushed by Harry and then walked down the dungeon stairs; he didn't look back.

The door eased open and Ginny slipped inside. She saw Harry and smiled. "You didn't have to wait for me." But she was glad he did.

"Do you feel better?" he asked.

"A lot better," she said with obvious relief. "I can't even explain what it is about trees. They're a connection with the Earth, and they all have this heart of Otherworldly life...I wish you could see it. It's the most peaceful thing I've ever looked at."

Harry thought uncomfortably about the secret he was now keeping from her. "Do you still have your sight on?"

She shook her head. "There's no point in the castle, is there?" She pulled up the cuff of her shirt and looked at her watch. "I should get back to the tower. I bet Ria is ready to lose it. She didn't want to leave me." Then Ginny remembered about Fudge and the Imperius Curse. She had to tell Harry. After all, what if Fudge showed up and wanted to take him somewhere? For a...photo shoot or whatever it was famous people did in their free time? "Harry, is there someplace we can talk? A lot happened today, and you should—"

Ginny paused as a house elf bustled into the hall and up to Harry, an envelope in her outstretched hand. Ginny recognized the loopy green penmanship on the summons. Harry tore the message open and scanned it. "He wants to see me."

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Ginny said. Dumbledore would fill him in on the Fudge situation.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Harry asked. She had been through a traumatic experience; he remembered how he had felt even months after the end of the Triwizard Tournament. Ginny hadn't seen anything less horrifying, he was sure.

"I'm not all right," she said softly. Harry was glad that she respected him enough to give an honest answer. She picked her chin up and looked him square in the eye. "But I will be. It'll take more than a trip through Dumbledore's Pensieve to break me."

* * * * *

January 10, 1998

As usual, Ginny ate breakfast with her roommates. Gwen was running a comb through Shannon's chin-length hair. Ria made a face. "Could you not do that at the table? I don't need her hair in my food."

Shannon eyed Ria's porridge. "It might be an improvement. How can you eat that slop?"

"Don't let the house elves hear you call it slop," Ginny said, polishing off her last bite of toast. "They'd commit mass suicide."

Gwen dropped the comb, and wisps of hair went flying everywhere. "Don't even joke about that, Gin. It's not funny."

Ria grimaced. "I can't eat like this. It's disgusting."

"They've been primping at the breakfast table for six years," Ginny said. "By now you should've learned to live with it."

"She survives a Dementor attack and suddenly thinks she's my mother," Ria teased, crossing her eyes at Ginny.

Ginny crossed hers back. Ria shrieked as a mail owl dropped a red envelope in her bowl, splashing the thick brown porridge all over her shirt. "Dammit!" she cursed. "Gwen, clean me up, will you?"

"You mock the primping, but then when you're covered with slop I'm the one you come running to," Gwen said with a sly grin. "I think you owe me an apology, Ria."

"Just get rid of the stain," Ria said through clenched teeth, affecting a menacing expression.

"Repeat after me. I, Maria Johnson."

Ria cast Ginny a desperate look, but Ginny wasn't coming to her friend's aid. "Fine. I, Maria Johnson."

Gwen paused, and then turned to Shannon. "You do the rest. I can't think of any big words this early in the morning."

Shannon smoothly took over. "Hereby affirm that beauty charms are a valid, productive, appetizing use of time. In addition, porridge is gross."

Ria blinked. "Um...hereby affirm that charms are...Shannon I can't remember all that. And porridge isn't gross. I happen to—oh my God!" The envelope was smoking. She pulled it out of her bowl and turned it to look at the address. "Who sent me a Howler? Hang on, this is for you!" Ria hurled the envelope across the table; it skidded and came to a halt in front of Ginny.

Now the Howler was smoking in earnest. "Hurry up!" Shannon cried, tossing Ginny a nail file. "Get it open!"

Ginny fumbled with the file, but quickly managed to slit the offending letter open. An angry scream reverberated off the walls of the Great Hall. For a moment the sound was so deafening Ginny couldn't make out any sense—it was just noise. When her ears got used to the decibel volume, however, the shouts that bounced around the stone room resolved themselves into words. "...It was my favorite toy. I got it for Christmas from my grandmother, and you had to go and break it! What did I ever do to deserve such cruelty? An innocent child's toy broom callously destroyed by his annoying, jealous playmate. Ginny, do you have any idea how much that hurt? I died that afternoon, and your mum's apple turnovers just barely brought me back to life." Bloody hell, it was Mike Fletcher.

The envelope burst into flames and was gone. The hall was silent. That was, without a doubt, the strangest Howler in Hogwarts memory. Every eye in the room was trained on Ginny Weasley, who sat, very pale, an unreadable look on her face. Slowly, she stood and walked over to the Ravenclaw table, every step echoing. Ron, who watched the scene with interest, thought he could've heard a pin drop, should anyone in the hall have a pin and then drop it.

Mike sat with his housemates, a girl on each side. One fed him scrambled eggs; the other cut the crusts off of his toast. He looked up and gave her a sunny grin. "Morning, Ginny. That was quite a show just now. Everyone is looking at you."

As a collective entity, the student body gasped at his audacity and then strained their ears to hear her response. "What," she bit out, "was that?"

The brunette to Mike's right held up a fork laden with eggs, and he motioned for Ginny to wait while he chewed. Then he smiled again. "Are you saying it didn't happen? The broom was my favorite toy. It worked just fine that morning, but you were alone with it for twenty minutes and it never flew again."

"Mike," Ginny choked out as the brunette offered another forkful of eggs. "I was four!" Her voice steadily increased in volume until she was shouting. "You had turned my hair green the day before! What was I supposed to do? Are you insane? You get revenge by sending me a—"

"Not revenge, Gin. Justice. Justice for Isobel."

Ginny's shoulders began to shake. Ron, who could only see her back, thought for one terrible moment that she was crying. But then a bubble of laughter spilled out from her lips, followed by another, louder and louder, until she laughed so hard she could barely breathe. Tension released, the rest of the hall laughed too and then returned to their usual conversations. Ginny gasped, "You named your broom Isobel?"

"After Isobel Miggs, the Mad Muggle's Mother." Mike still had that same sunny grin on his face. Ginny roared with laughter, long and happy. It was a sound her friends had sorely missed these past few months.

Without sparing the Ravenclaw girls so much as a glance, Mike jumped up from the bench and rounded the table, taking Ginny's hand. "Come on," he said in her ear. "Let's go do something fun."

She stood on tiptoe to whisper back, "What if I'd rather get into trouble?"

He whirled her around and, still laughing, they ran for the door. "It's Saturday, Gin," he said over the noise of the Great Hall. "No reason we can't do both."

* * * * *

Ginny and Mike were not the only ones enjoying their day off. In the Reading Room, an area off of the main library that housed books mainly read for fun, Dana sat in an armchair and hummed softly as she skimmed the book in her lap. With her legs tucked beneath her she turned the page and frowned. "It figures. I just got comfortable and now I have to get a different book," she mumbled to herself. Setting A Keeper's Guide to Quidditch to one side she unfolded her legs and stood.

Dana scanned the Quidditch volumes. After a few moments she realized the tome she was searching for was gone. "Now that's not fair," she murmured under her breath. "Who would want that book anyway?"

"Which book?" a familiar voice asked.

Dana turned with a grin. "Flying With a Charming Chaser. It's been misshelved, I think. It's not where it should be."

Seamus held his hand up and waved the paperback in front of her face. "Not misshelved. I've got it."

Dana tried to grab it, but he held it up over her head. "Give it over," she said, laughing. "I need it."

"What for?"

"In practice yesterday I had trouble blocking the Pythagoras dive. Dee is always telling me I need to understand the theory behind something before I can understand the thing itself, so I need the book."

"Sorry. It's not happening."

Dana jumped for the book, her mouth in a wide grin. After a few attempts, though, it dawned on her that Seamus wasn't kidding. "Come on," she said. "I need it."

"Well you're not getting it from me," Seamus told her. "Someday you're going to be moved up to first string keeper, and then what will happen? You'll be able to block the daring, brave Gryffindor Chasers' Pythagoras dives. I'm sorry, Dana, but my duty is clear."

Dana looked from the book high above her head, to his grinning face. Then she grabbed his sides and tickled. Hooting with laughter, he brought his arm down to ward her off. She grabbed the book and pulled, wrenching it out of his hands. "Ha! Victory is mine!"

Seamus's arm snaked around her waist, and he pulled her close, claiming her mouth in a heart-stopping kiss. Dana was momentarily shocked; Seamus hadn't ever been this forward with her before. Just as she was getting into it, though, he took advantage of her distraction and pulled the book away.

"Victory is mine," he corrected

Thinking two could play this game and hoping she hadn't misunderstood, Dana leaned into him and returned the favor, bringing her hands up to run her fingers through his hair. Seamus laughed against her mouth, knowing exactly what she was playing at. He kissed her back with equal enthusiasm, but held the book well out of her reach. Dana's hands crept down his back, traced around his waist, and then she pulled away, his wand in her hand. "Accio," she said, a devilish smile on her face.

"Unfair!" Seamus protested as the book flew out of his grasp.

"All's fair in love and Quidditch," Dana said, skipping out of reach. She handed the wand back and told him, "Next year's Gryffindor chasers appreciate your efforts, unsuccessful as they were. Better luck next time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go meet my sister." She tossed a wink over her shoulder on her way out the door.

Seamus leaned against the shelf and watched her go, a silly grin on his face. How could a Slytherin make him feel this happy?

* * * * *

Dana slid through the partially open door and closed it behind her, saying, "I hope this is the last thing you need, Dee, because I am not going to risk getting caught again. Professor Snape would be livid if he knew."

Delia consulted her parchment. "We've got everything. The tiger lily extract has to go in right before it's ready to drink." She took the jar from Dana and measured out a precise half-cup; dumping it into the cauldron that sat in the corner.

"Don't we need a fire?"

"The potion is brewed cold," Delia said tersely, eyeing the liquid inside. "Have we had a fire yet? Even once?"

"No," Dana answered, irritated at her sister's tone.

"Then why did you ask?" Delia took two tumblers from her bag and filled them with the ladle.

"Because it's the only way I'll get any information out of you sometimes," Dana muttered to herself.

Delia held out one of the tumblers. Dana eyed the potion skeptically. It was the color of vomit flavored beans. "Isn't there any way to make it look better?"

Delia made an aggravated sound. "Do you want to turn into an animal or not, Day? The book said," she fiddled with her notes, "the first step of the anamagus transformation is the potion to prepare the subject's physiology for transfiguration."

Still, Dana didn't take the glass. "Are you sure you did it right? This is a hard recipe, and you're only a fourth year."

"For heaven's sake, Day, I'm not trying to poison you," Delia said, insulted at her sister's lack of faith in her potion abilities.

"In that case, you won't mind drinking yours first."

Delia looked hurt. "Since when are you the suspicious type?"

Sighing, Dana reassured her sister, "It's not that I think you'd poison me. Of course not. It's just, what if you made a mistake?" Seeing that her sister's feelings had not been soothed, Dana took the glass and downed the potion in one gulp, before she could lose her nerve. "Yuck! It even tastes nasty!" She ran for Delia's water bottle to wash out the acrid flavor.

Delia waited for Dana to finish and took the water bottle from her sister before picking up her own tumbler. "Well here goes." Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she drained the glass and followed it very quickly with the water. "For once I have to say you were right. That was horrible."

Dana studied her sister. Delia didn't look any different. And Dana certainly didn't feel any different. "Are you sure it worked? Because if it didn't, we might as well scrap the whole project. I'm not going to steal all these ingredients a second time."

Delia went over to the table and shuffled them around, scanning the information. "According to my notes it takes months for the potion to completely take effect. At that time we'll be able to do the next step. I think there was a test you could do...here it is!" She pulled out her wand and pointed it at her sister, "Transformio confirmio!" A gold light shot from her wand and enveloped Dana, quickly fading to silver. Looking at her notes Delia said with a grin, "It worked! Try it on me."

Dana drew her wand (still not as fast as Ginny could, but she was getting better), and pointed it at her sister. "What were the words again?" Delia handed her the parchment, and Dana read over the incantation a few times, sounding it out.

"I can't believe I'm related to someone whose lips move when she reads," Delia remarked dryly.

Dana gave her sister a sarcastic look, and then performed the spell. Just as had happened with her, Delia's cloud turned from gold to silver.

Delia nodded, supremely satisfied with herself. "That's that. We have a whole year, now, to practice the next step."

"The charms, right?" Dana asked, scanning Delia's parchment.

"Right," Delia confirmed. She went back to the table and picked up a set of pages that she handed to her sister, taking back her original notes. "Learn those spells. I made you a separate copy but don't lose them."

"I won't, don't worry." She gathered her Quidditch book and went to the door, "I'd better get back to the common room." She opened the door a crack and, seeing that the way was clear, she slipped out leaving her sister to pick up everything else.

"And for goddess's sake, don't let anyone see. Those roommates of yours are a bunch of twits. I wouldn't want them turning us in," Delia called after her.

* * * * *

January 12, 1998

The night was clear and cold. The stars and moon shone down on the Earth, bathing the castle and village in their pale silver light. Suddenly, though, the peaceful atmosphere took a sinister feel. Heavy gray clouds rolled in, covering the landscape with darkness oppressive enough to be felt. The nocturnal animals scattered, running for their burrows, flying for their nests, desperate to hide from the encroaching menace. In her tower room, Ginny's eyes flew open. She was momentarily disoriented, not sure what had jerked her out of sleep so violently. But then she heard it. The discordant sound of decay and evil, disrupting the symphony that played in the back of her mind. The tuneless screeching was loud, and grew louder. Only one thing could cause that sound, the noise of something that was an affront to nature itself.

The Dementors had left Azkaban.

HARRY! she screamed through the link. WAKE UP!

Ginny jumped out of bed and grabbed her black school robe from its hook on the wall. Shoving her arms into the sleeves, she grabbed her wand, wiggled her feet into a pair of trainers, and raced out the door without bothering to tie the laces.

Harry stumbled down the stairs and took in her appearance—black drawstring pajama pants and a black tank top under unclasped robes, untied shoes with no socks, hair tangled from sleep, and eyes wide with horror. "Are you all right?" he asked, his first thought for her safety. "Are you hurt?"

Ginny was glad to see that he had put on shoes and that he slept in sweatpants and a T-shirt. There was no time to waste waiting for him to change. She ran for the portrait hole. "We have to find Dumbledore right away."

Harry didn't question her; he tightened his grip on his wand and followed.

* * * * *

Draco sat in his dorm, oblivious to Crabbe and Goyle's snores. Through the small slit of a window near the ceiling of their dungeon room, they watched the sky. "Do you know what time it's happening?" Blaise asked.

Draco saw the clouds roll in, covering the moon. He stood and grabbed his invisibility cloak from its place on the back of a chair. "It's started. They must be on their way."

Just before his head disappeared beneath the cloak, Blaise said, "Be careful, all right?"

Draco gave his friend a small smile. "Always." Then he vanished. His voice came once again, muffled by the cloak, "Gods, I hope she can make a decent Patronus." The door swung open, and then quietly shut. Blaise was left alone.

* * * * *

Ginny and Harry sprinted up to the gargoyle statue that blocked the stairs to Dumbledore's office. Facing the stone guardian, they momentarily froze. "Password," Harry said frantically. "What's the password?"

"Figgy Pudding," Ginny tried, but the stone didn't move.

"Cockroach Cluster!"

"Stringmints!"

"Lemon Drops!"

"Vomit beans!"

The statue didn't move. "Come on! Open!" Ginny smacked it in frustration, and then groaned, shaking her hand at the sting.

"Well, well, well," an oily voice said from behind them. "Two students out of bed, and attempting to break into the Headmaster's office. This is quite an infraction of the rules, even for you two."

They whirled around to see Professor Snape eyeing them with what, on any other person, might be considered glee. "Let's see," he continued, "I think I'll make it fifty points each from Gryffindor for sneaking out, sixty points each for the break-in attempt, and," he eyed them scornfully, "another twenty from Miss Weasley for assaulting the statue."

Ginny said, "We need to speak to the Headmaster right away. The Dementors have left Azkaban; they're on their way here."

Harry's eyes widened at the news, but Snape showed no reaction. "Miss Weasley, just because you have had a nightmare does not mean you can go running through the school at all hours of the night. Another thirty points from Gryffindor for being unable to distinguish dreams from reality."

"You don't understand," Harry protested. "If she says that's what's happening, then it's the truth. Please, you have to let us up to see him."

Snape lifted an eyebrow. "I have to, Potter?"

Ginny knew in that moment that Snape had no intention of letting them see Dumbledore, no matter how hard they begged. There was only one she could think of to convince him. She hooked a finger underneath her silver chain and pulled out the ring. Slipping her index finger through the talisman, Ginny held it up in front of Snape's face so that he could see the dragons etched on the sides. Her eyes bored into his. "Look. I know what I'm talking about. The Dementors have left Azkaban. Please, what's the Headmaster's password?"

He looked from the ring to her face and back again. He remembered that night in the forest, when he had felt as though she could see right through him; it all made sense now. Pushing between the two students, he strode over to the gargoyle and barked, "Canary Creams." The statue slid aside, and they took the steps two at a time.

* * * * *

Draco stood in the shadows, his cloak covering every inch of him. He couldn't go too near the light; even invisible people cast shadows. He didn't want to be as obvious as Potter and Ginny. The teachers gathered in the entrance hall, clutching their wands in white-knuckled hands. Draco counted twenty people, twenty-one shadows. The two Gryffindors were under a cloak near the castle doors; he just knew it. Draco eyed the dark, lumpy shape on the wall; he didn't want to miss them if they moved.

Dumbledore assigned each Professor to an area of the grounds. Madame Pomfrey handed out bricks of chocolate. As the Headmaster moved about the room, Draco noted that he was making his way towards the door, and the invisible people beside it. Deciding that it was an acceptable risk, he slipped into the hall and skirted around the wall, keeping to the pools of shadow created by the torchlight. The room was very quiet; the teachers all looked deadly serious. Draco drew near enough to the door to hear the Headmaster murmur under his breath, "You two stay close to me," and then Harry's voice, "Understood."

The doors blew open, slamming against the walls on either side. Dumbledore, Harry, and Ginny only just managed to jump clear in time. Draco caught his foot on an uneven flagstone and almost tripped, but regained his footing just in time. He couldn't afford another mistake like that; exposure would ruin everything. Not for the first time, he found himself jealous of Potter and his many adventures. Draco didn't have the faintest idea of how to conduct himself in a combat situation; his strength came in manipulating people. Still, he thought as he clutched his wand tightly, he was invisible, and fully intended on staying out of the way. He could produce a halfway decent Patronus, if necessary, although he hoped it wouldn't come to that. The one time he'd ever been near enough to a Dementor to feel its effects, that day on the train his third year...Draco shuddered. He didn't ever want a repeat of that experience.

"They're here," Dumbledore said, his power gathering around him like an invisible storm cloud. The sight gave the rest of the Professors courage; they followed him out of the building without looking back. Just like a bunch of lemmings, Draco thought.

A frigid wind whipped across the grounds, lifting snow from the ground and blowing it into drifts. Ginny set her teeth against the cold and held tight to the Headmaster's invisibility cloak, praying that it wouldn't blow away. She wanted to cast a warming charm; she was still in her pajamas, after all, but knew that she'd need to save all her energy for what was coming.

The monsters advanced on the school. Hundreds of them stretched in a line, shoulder to shoulder, tall and faceless. Their shrieking music roared through her mind, and another sound too. His voice, once again. "Ginny, he's going to die. After tonight, the famous, great, good Harry Potter will finally be beaten by Lord Voldemort. Don't you feel proud?" And from far away, on the other side of the link, she could hear the same voice, only older. "Stand aside, you silly girl."

All around her, the teachers were yelling, "Expecto Patronum!" Ginny focused on the first happy memory to come into her mind: waking up in the Chamber of Secrets to see Harry's face, white and worried, and knowing that Tom hadn't gotten him. That he was going to be fine. A silvery white bird burst out of the end of her wand, its wingspan at six feet across. With a shriek, it took flight, chasing the monsters down. Ginny struggled to get a good look, and then started in surprise. Her Patronus was a crow. Bright animals raced all over the grounds, charging down the Dementors. Some of them evaporated on contact with the Patronuses, others were driven back.

Still, though, they kept coming. Professors Gosselin, Sprout, and Montague had fallen to the ground, unconscious. Professors Figg and Dumbledore held their own; their Patronuses were the strongest on the field. Harry's had gone out a few times; he'd had to recast it. Ginny clutched her wand and focused with all her might on her happy thought, but his voice wormed its way into her consciousness. "Don't you want to know how I did it, Ginny? It's so tiresome being a genius when no one is around to admire your handiwork."

"Shut up!" Ginny screamed aloud. Her crow began to flicker. Through it all, Tom continued his chilling monologue. "I fed off of your emotions, Ginny. This is what happens when you let yourself feel. People take advantage, and then people die. It was so easy, Ginny. Your emotions made you weak, but they made me strong."

"No!" she cried as the crow disappeared all together. Tom's words surrounded her mind; her vision began to close off, the world grew darker, and Harry's hand, warm and strong, closed around her upper arm.

"Gin," he called, turning his attention to her while trying his best to maintain his Patronus, "stay with me! You can't black out; we're never going to get rid of them without you. Whatever he's saying, it's not true!"

But it was true. She knew it, just as surely as she knew her own name. "You stupid little girl! Opening yourself up so completely," he laughed, high and cold, "You gave me everything, didn't you. Everything you had to give. It's made you so easy to control. I'm very nearly real, and you're just a shell, a shadow of the person you were when we first met. We're going to go down to the chamber and wait for your hero to rescue you. He will, you know. And do you know what will happen then, Ginny?"

"Expecto Patronum," she whispered. Nothing happened.

Professor Skylar fell.

"I'm going to kill him. And I'll let you watch."

"Expecto Patronum!" She was desperate, deep in the throws of panic. The spell didn't work.

"You have a front row seat to history, Ginny. You should be on your knees thanking me. Perhaps you will after."

"I won't! Expecto Patronum!"

"You'll kneel before me and pledge yourself to me without a thought," Tom planned. "Then, I'll brand you with my mark. It will certainly be a delightful shock to Dumbledore, and to your family, when they find your body in such a state."

"Ginny," Harry said loudly, tightening his grip on her arm. "Stay with me. Stay on your feet. Think of a happy memory; you can do it."

Professor McGonagall fell.

Tom laughed. "Don't try to fight me, Ginny. This is all your own doing, isn't it? Open the chamber."

"Please," Ginny whispered. "Somebody please help me."

Pale and shaking, Draco could see that the professors were in trouble. More than half of them had fallen in the snow, and still the Dementors advanced. He didn't know what kind of special magic Ginny was supposed to be doing, but he hoped she'd start soon. Another few minutes and the monsters would be on him.

Suddenly, a bird came winging through the sky, flying hell-for-leather straight at the fray. It very nearly took his head off on its frantic rush towards the conflict. The animal landed on an invisible perch; Draco knew it must be Ginny's shoulder. By the light of Dumbledore's Phoenix Patronus, Draco made out that the bird was a crow.

Ginny felt its talons dig into her shoulder. The pain brought her vision sharply into focus. Tom's voice vanished as abruptly as though he had been turned off. She raised her wand, suddenly confident that the spell would work. "Expecto Patronum!"

A raging amount of Otherworldly power slammed into Ginny with enough force to make her scream in pain. It filled her body, coating her nerves and veins, bones and muscles, and then flowed into her arm and shot out through her wand. The huge crow flashed blinding silver, and soared towards the monsters, screaming as it went. The Dementors unlucky enough to get in its way dissolved with a shriek that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. The others retreated to the edge of school grounds, and vanished. As soon as the last Dementor was gone the crow, too, disappeared.

As soon as they were gone, the fallen teachers started coming around. Madame Pomfrey moved among them, handing out chocolate. No one paid any attention to the crow that perched in midair. No one but Draco, and Dumbledore.

The teachers slowly reentered the castle, the stronger ones helping those who were shaking and weak. Inside, they were silent for a moment, unable to believe that they had truly survived the danger without a single casualty. Then, the questions started. "Who's was the crow? Was it yours?" "No, I had the bear. Maybe yours?" And then Flitwick's tiny voice piped up, "No, mine was an owl. Maybe it was—"

"Perhaps we should continue this conversation in the staff room," Dumbledore said. "Ring for the elves to bring up warm drinks and, Poppy, make sure everyone has plenty of chocolate."

The Professors, flushed with victory but tempered by the horror of the memories they'd been forced to relive, slowly wandered out of the entrance hall. None of them noticed that Dumbledore hung back.

Once his coworkers were out of sight, the Headmaster strode quickly to the door. Still covered with the cloak, still with a bird perched on her shoulder, Harry and Ginny went inside. Draco just managed to slip in behind them before the Headmaster pushed it closed again. He moved, quickly yet quietly, an acceptable distance away. It wouldn't do to have any of them running into him. He wanted very much to return to his dorm where he and Blaise had stockpiled bars of Honeydukes chocolate in preparation for tonight, but his work wasn't yet done.

"There's no one here to see you," Dumbledore said. "You can take the cloak off."

As Draco watched, Harry and Ginny appeared from beneath the fluid silver fabric. The crow gave a little hop, and then returned to her perch on Ginny's shoulder. Harry busied himself with casting warming charms on her. Ginny studied her shoes and didn't look up.

The Headmaster watched her for a moment and then said, "He was trying to draw you out. This is the second time in as many months. It's never going to stop, and you're never going to be safe. Your family, your friends, the people you care about, none of them are safe. He'll hunt them all down. You must be trained to protect them. The auror division can and will teach you the skills you'll need."

Draco froze. If she became an auror, it would put a nearly insurmountable stumbling block in his plans.

Ginny raised her eyes to Dumbledore's face. "What will I have to do?"

In that moment, Draco's despair turned to hope. Her gaze was flat and cold, dead. He could see no emotion in her at all, beyond anger. She had that in spades. Given time, her fury would fester and turn into resentment for the Headmaster and his cause. She'd be ripe for persuasion.

Harry saw the same thing Draco did, and his heart constricted with worry. Whatever memory it was the Dementors had made her relieve, and he was pretty sure it had been Tom Riddle, it had changed her. During the battle, however brief it might have been, Ginny had grown hard. Childhood was gone forever, nothing now but a collection of memories and faded photographs; she was an adult now, for better or worse. Her eyes were the oldest he'd ever seen. Older than the Headmaster's. It was the look he'd seen in Sirius, in the months following his godfather's escape from Azkaban. Harry felt lost at the idea of Ginny suffering so, and nearly despaired at the idea that there was nothing he could do for her. Chocolate helped, but time was the only thing that could truly heal wounds caused by Dementors.

Dumbledore was also troubled by the look in her eyes, but he didn't comment. Instead, he told her, "An agent from the division will meet with you and Harry in a few months, to discuss the training program. I'm glad you see the importance of using your powers to fight Death Eaters, Ginny. The wizarding world will be safe under your protection."

Ginny trained her bleak gaze on the Headmaster for a moment more, and then dropped her eyes back to the ground. "Thanks for the warming charms, Harry. I'm going to bed."

She turned on her heel and walked away without another word and Harry, after an eloquent glance at Dumbledore, followed.

Congratulating himself for getting through the attack without dying or doing anything embarrassing, Draco slipped down the stairs to the Slytherin dungeon.

* * * * *

In the sixth years' dorm, Ginny's friends all slept soundly. She couldn't believe that they were completely oblivious to the chaos that had briefly reigned outside. The crow hopped off of her shoulder and perched on her finger. It was heavy. Ginny said, "I expect I'll be seeing you later." The bird cocked its head in acknowledgement, and then flew to the windowsill. Ginny pushed the glass aside, and Mórrígan was gone.

* * * * *

Ginny found herself in the middle of a field. It looked like the one she'd visited on her first trip to the Otherworld, except that it was now full of uniformed people who ran to and fro, in and out of brightly colored tents and pavilions. In a small shelter nearby, a blacksmith tempered a sword; the clang of his hammer on the steel reverberated in her ears. The smoky smell of food cooked over a campfire enticed her nearer to the center of camp, but Ginny was distracted by a most remarkable sight. A roped-off area had been kept empty; men and women dueled there, using brilliantly made, deadly looking weapons. Ginny picked out a mace, three swords, and two axes, along with instruments whose names she didn't know.

A hand dropped on her shoulder, and she turned away from the soldiers to face the goddess. "What's going on? Who are these people?"

"They are my army, Virginia." At the Pendragon's confused expression, Mórrígan said, "I'm a war goddess. Surely you must have deduced that I have soldiers under my command. You're not that stupid. Or maybe you are."

She looked around the camp. Those who weren't practice fighting were polishing and sharpening weapons. "It looks like you're getting ready for war."

"So it does," Mórrígan acknowledged, turning and walking away. A long, deadly sword had joined the daggers around her waist. Ginny followed her through the camp, past a corral of snorting, stamping horses and another two practice fields, until they came to a rich pavilion set apart from the rest. This must be where the goddess slept.

"Who are you fighting against?" The idea that anyone would dare challenge the Mórrígan was beyond her comprehension.

The goddess paced in front of her and adopted the lecturing tone of one of her professors, albeit with a great deal more impatience. "I am not preparing for a war, but for the threat of war. The first step to being a successful general is analyzing the severity of threats and then taking steps to neutralize them."

Ginny was momentarily arrested by Mórrígan's demeanor. For the first time ever, the goddess seemed tense, on edge. "Virginia, are you paying attention?" she snapped.

"Neutralize them," Ginny repeated back. "I'm listening."

The goddess sent her a frustrated look, and then turned and disappeared inside her pavilion. She came out with a long, deadly looking sword and handed it to Ginny, who gingerly grasped the handle. It was heavy.

"Do you know how to use one of these?"

"No."

"You're about to learn." Mórrígan unsheathed her own weapon, and Ginny took a step back. "There are no cowards in my service. You will fight with bravery, or you will answer to me."

"In your service? Who said anything about my serving you?" Ginny had a moment of panic, thinking that the goddess intended to keep her in the Otherworld. Ginny didn't know how to get back on her own.

"I saved your life at your school tonight. You owe me a life debt," Mórrígan said.

"A life debt means that someday I'll save your life," Ginny protested. "You're a goddess; you'll never be able to collect on a life debt."

Mórrígan raised the point of her sword. "Don't display your ignorance. You will pay off this debt, starting now. First, you must learn to use a sword. One day, you'll have your own, but this one will do for now. The old man doesn't understand; he thinks mortals can teach you the skills you'll need. You were wise to go along with his plan, but I will be the one to instruct you. We are bound by your debt, Virginia, forever. You will do as you're told, study tactics and strategy, develop your powers, and someday you will serve your purpose."

"What's my purpose?" Ginny asked, hefting the sword. Its point wavered; it was too heavy for her to hold still.

"To save your people, and mine."