Splinter

"Are you sure this will work?"

"I don't know, Harry. But it's our only chance to defeat Voldemort once and for all... we can't risk you dueling him".

Harry sighed, irritated with Hermione, and come to think of it, everyone. After they had heard about the prophecy, everyone started treating him like delicate glass, ready to shatter any second. He supposed that their concern was justified, but he really wanted to just be treated like an adult. After all, he was a seventh year now...

The Soul-Splitting Curse was a combination of Incendio and Avada Kedavra. Hermione had one of her usual bursts of brilliance, and spent almost the entire year developing it. It had even shocked Dumbledore that Hermione had thought of it. The theory behind it was that because Voldemort had taken some of Harry's blood in the graveyard, he would be protected by Lily Potter's sacrifice, so casting the Killing curse on him would rebound as well. But shattering his soul, as the Soul-Splitting Curse would accomplish, that was another story. The pieces of it would shoot out from his body, leaving him in the state that someone who has been Kissed by the Dementors would be.

Harry had practiced the curse hundreds of times, usually on rats. Once, Ron had been standing a bit too close to the rat when the curse was performed, and a splinter of its soul shot into his body. After that, he developed an unusual love for cheese.

Ron walked in to the Common Room, clutching a chunk of cheddar, and joined the discussion.

"Don't you reckon it would be more powerful if two people cast it at once?" he asked.

"That's unlikely. It's far more powerful when someone who shares a piece of the victim's soul casts it. Anyone else joining in would basically be useless, and as far as we know, Harry's the only one that has a piece of Voldemort's soul in him," Hermione replied.

"There is someone else..." said Harry quietly, "Ginny."

Ron was most definitely not fond of his baby sister joining the Order. He was even less fond of the fact that she would be in the battles, just like anyone else. But having her personally cast a spell on Voldemort?

Obviously, he was worried about Harry doing it, as well. But it was Harry's fate... Ron knew about the prophecy now. He had no idea how Harry could manage, having the weight of the world on his shoulders. Why did Ginny have to come to the same fate? A reencounter with the person who possessed her an entire year would be destructive to her. Yet the possession was the reason it had to be her.

The plan was ready. Snape had leaked the information about when Voldemort was going to attack so Harry and Ginny could be ready. Harry was definitely ready, his brave eyes were determined and he handled it easily. She supposed that after being in a life-or-death situation on a regular basis made it lose some of its original shock.

But Ginny was terrified.

How could she, of all people, help defeat Voldemort? She was only sixteen, and had neither Hermione's brilliance nor Ron's tactics, and certainly didn't have Harry's fearlessness. What she did have was a piece of Voldemort's soul inside her.

She could always feel it there, like a puzzle piece that just didn't fit crammed inside the picture. Doing the right thing always came easily to Harry, but to Ginny, it wasn't. She could always hear the splinter of Voldemort calling to her. It was a daily struggle to be good, and Ginny hated herself for it.

"Are you ready?" asked Harry, with hollow eyes, awaking Ginny from her thoughts. "Voldemort is coming to Hogsmeade in two hours. The village is evacuated, and the team of Aurors is ready to stun the Death Eaters with him." His voice was a little wistful at the last statement, he had voiced before that he doubted he'd be alive long enough to become an Auror.

Ginny took a deep breath. "I'm ready," she said shakily.