Now!

That night would always be firmly etched against her memories. It was the night that had bestowed her with the power to extend both separation and togetherness. Her recollection of the events pointed clearly to that which she had chosen...

From afar, only their pattering footsteps through the grassy fields would alert one of the odd pair's advancement. Once closer, however, one would be startled by the female's shocking red strands of hair and the male's presumably painful crouch. What would draw the eye of an onlooker, most of all, would be the bursts of light erupting from behind them that they currently fought to dodge. Wizarding robes swam about each of their nearly starved forms in tatters. The fabric clung to their bodies in quite as much desperation as they did to one another.

The night was dark and the sky was cloudy. The only source of light (beyond that of the colored bursts of hexes being spent on them from behind) was the silvery orb now beginning its protrusion from beneath the gray wisps that had been hiding it.

"Now, Virginia! Now!" Though an odd time for formalities in name calling, Ginny knew to overlook it. This was a cue they had agreed upon and now she was to complete the necessary actions. After all, it was obviously all he could muster to release the hoarse shouts from his strained vocal cords.

As though forcefully taking apart her own soul, Ginny Weasley let her grip fall from the man's waist. A single tear was shed against her cheek as she stood beside his crumpling form. The single drop of salty water began a path across the freckles he had once taken to counting. Turning, she abandoned her pursuit forward, her sole venture in defeating the dark powers, and the only man she had ever learned to love.

Her legs lifted over the rough ground below so that each of her leather-clad feet left vast spaces between the other's steps. She ran as fast as other worldly observers deemed possible and left her rapidly pounding heart behind just as an appalling howl was delivered into the air. It had been a howl that had no right unleashing itself from either man or beast.

Human cries soon followed and, with her dire running steps consuming so much of her very being, the only thought that achieved her attention was, 'They caught up too soon.'

She continued her pursuit away, even as the howls repeated, human cries ensued, and spells were called in terrifying shouts. Hours before, his frantic explanation of this defeat had been simple to understand. She need only run. He had failed to mention he would be pulling her back with every howl (her steps soon grew heavier), every yelp (her pace was becoming so slow), and every whimper. She stopped.

The wolf was no longer howling. Or perhaps the human cries were masking it. Were they cries of pain or victory? The frustration of not knowing and of not being able to defy his instructions finally wore too greatly on top her already fatigued form and she collapsed.

~

He too would forever remember that night. Not for what he had been let bestow but for what had been forced on him.

Only their careless footsteps would have alerted one to their advancement. The figures, however, would greatly impress on anyone caring to chance a glance.

The wiser of the group held their self in a stance of much pain while the one with red hair kept a shaking hand around their form. The third member of the group would draw the most attention, though. He always had -- never able to disguise that lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

From behind, a mass crowd was approaching in a stealth that would come upon their stumbling too soon and in a silence that would make mockeries of their ragged breaths.

The night was black with the sort of darkness of which one's mind can re-figure shapes that may or may not be there. The only source of light was the full moon. It now protruded from the sky's cloudy barrier like something only to be described as 'deathly' in the content of this night.

"Now!"

The one with the infamous scar broke away first, hurling himself into a run before realizing the redhead did not accompany him. In fact, the vibrantly colored strands still lay against the shoulders of the other -- the one in so much pain.

"Please." The painful cry, not meant for his ears, was wish of safety, health, and return.

"Ginny!"

She lifted her head.

~

She supposed it had only been the Boy-Who-Lived who sent her from evil's embrace that night. During lower times, she wondered if he resented that. Lower even, if she did as well.

His face, so healthy, had not been the one she wished to be greeted with.

It was in Harry Potter's nature, though, not to give the slightest care beyond that of safety. Only able to direct glimpses behind her, at the man the Boy-Who-Lived remained to think of as a former professor, Harry uttered the two most harsh words she had yet to hear. "Leave him."

It was then that their eyes met one another for the last time. It was the last clash of earth against emerald and its voice still echoed through Ginny's tormented thoughts. It taunted her with pointless questions and with ponderings of why she had ever left that hero to be with the one she had chosen. It forever imbued in her the knowledge that she had destroyed the capability for true love in that untidy-haired boy.

This time they both ran but Ginny was not at his side. She never would be again.