The Red Skies Above

Chapter IX

I whipped out my wand and cried, "Expeliarmus!" Voldemort merely blocked it without even uttering a spell. "Stupefy!" I cried, but to little effect, for he blocked my spell again. "Impedimenta! Levicorpus! Sectumsempra! Oppugno! Impedimenta!" all to no effect. The dragon that had been with me vanished as soon as my last spell was said.

"Why don't you attack me?" I asked, not a patient person. I had never faced Voldemort face-to-face before, let alone one-on-one, and the only thing I could figure to do was keep talking.

"I'm not going to attack you just yet, Weasley. Draco Malfoy tells me you did something incredible to him. It was supposedly worse than the Cruciatus Curse. I must know what it was. What did you say? What spell did you cast?" Voldemort asked me as Draco appeared beside him. He looked horrible. "Malfoy, I want you here for this."

"Why would I tell you? So you can use it against my friends and family? I think not," the moment I had said this, I knew it wasn't the right thing to say.

Voldemort's slit pupils blazed with anger at my answer. "Because I can do this to you. Crucio," he waved his wand and a searing pain shot all through my body. It was as if thousands of white-hot knives were stabbing me. My head seemed to explode, and a horrible scream filled my throat, but I fought to hold it back. It would only make it worse. Then, as soon as it had started, it ended, and I was on the ground on my side.

Malfoy looked slightly disappointed, although Voldemort looked a bit please. "So it is true," he said quietly.

"What's true?" I asked, on all fours now. There was a cut next to my right eye and blood was running down my face. This was odd, seeing as the Cruciatus curse didn't normally cause physical harm. "What did you do? What's true?"

"Nothing, Weasley," he swooped down next to me so that we were face to face, although I was helpless. "Just as a note from pureblood to pureblood, it would be a good idea to call me 'sir,' or 'lord.'"

"You're not a pureblood," I said quite clearly, loud enough that Malfoy could hear it. "Your mother was, but the local muggle Tom Riddle wasn't."

Voldemort's eyes flashed angrily as he screamed, "CRUCIO!"

The pain was worse this time, backed by pure fury and the sadistic delight of seeing me tortured. It felt as if I was being torn in two, and numerous barbed whips were biting through my skin. This time I couldn't help but scream, and even when the curse was lifted I continued to yell for a few seconds.

The taste of blood filled my mouth, and I realized that I had been biting my lip and had bitten through it. My shirt and flesh had been sliced through, and a gash ran from my right shoulder to the middle of my chest.

"What were the words you used?" Voldemort demanded, the rage in his voice stronger than anything I had heard.

"I'll never tell you," I gasped, breathing hard. I didn't care if Voldemort tortured me, but he wasn't going to use the curse that I had used against Malfoy against anyone else. That had been fueled by animalistic rage, and I wouldn't allow anyone else to suffer that fate.

Seeing torturing was getting him nowhere, Voldemort cried, "Legilimens!" Suddenly, I was cuddling a spider, then kissing Hermione passionately, then celebrating with Harry after receiving the House Cup. My memories flashed in front of my eyes as Voldemort tore deeper into my brain. I was sitting in the Great Hall, receiving the poorly scribbled letter saying it had been my fault Harry had died; I was waking up to my fiancée, Hermione at the Burrow; I was in Dumbledore's study, receiving the Pollyjuice Potion -- but Voldemort couldn't see that. I couldn't let him.

The words burst from my mouth without my knowledge of doing so, "Interficere vinculumque vaporem vertere virgula!" A black stream shot from my wand, clearing my head so that I could see what was going on around me. It wrapped around Voldemort's wand, making it and the black stream dissolve into thin air.

Voldemort stared at where his wand had been seconds before. A few seconds passed in silence before Malfoy pulled his wand out of his robes and tossed it to Voldemort. "Here, my lord! Use my wand!"

But the wand never got to him. It was suspended in midair between Voldemort and Malfoy, glowing white, for in the distance, a figure had appeared. Malfoy gasped and dropped to his knees, head bowed, and even Voldemort swept into a clumsy bow.

The figure was dressed in a white cloak that ran down to the feet, which were clad in white boots, and its hood was up, hiding the face of the wearer. Under the cloak, the figure wore an elegant dress that came down to the knees. The neck of the dress was made with crisscrossing white straps that came around the figure's neck where a silver necklace rested, set with small rubies to match the ones on Voldemort's crown. At the wrists, the figure wore matching ruby thong bracelets.

"Voldemort, I sensed that your wand has been broken. Is it so?" the figure spoke with a female voice so cold that it could freeze rain on the way down, and it made the hairs on the back of my next stand up.

"Y-yes, Princess," Voldemort stuttered. This fact alone made me expect the worst from the so-called "Princess."

"Oh, Ronald Weasley, you're here, too?" The woman asked, turning her towards me. "Was it you that broke his wand?"

I didn't respond, but instead kept a firm grip upon my own wand, ready to defend myself if necessary from the Princess.

The woman laughed. Her laugh was worse than her voice, and sent shivers down my spine. "Silent, are we? Perhaps you're pretending to be mute? Oh, well. I'll take that as a 'yes.' Good job. It's about time someone stood up to this oaf," she spat at Voldemort's feet. The crown upon Voldemort's head floated up to the woman's eye level. "This doesn't belong to you, Tom. Not any more. Ronald is just a young man and he has defeated you. Pathetic."

"But, Princess, he is the one! He is the-" Voldemort began, only to be sharply cut off.

"I know very well who he is, Tom. You think I haven't been waiting for this day for years?" she turned back to me again. "Take the crown, Ronald. It's yours, according to the prophecy."

I was lost. Utterly and completely lost. "Prophecy? What prophecy are you talking about?" I asked, not grabbing the crown floating by me.

She laughed again, and a visible shiver went through everyone but her. "You don't know of your own prophecy? Oh, dear me, this is a treat. Many years ago, a very powerful witch made a prediction to one Salazar Slytherin telling of the rise of a great man. He would team up with another and together they would wreak havoc upon an unsuspecting world."

"What's this have to do with me?" I asked, confused.

"Everything. It states, 'The Leader shall be found when the Living One is almost defeated and the skies are red above the Snake's battle. He shall bring the world into his hands, and shall use the Princess and Snake as his tools to wreak destruction and the downfall of all who oppose him. He shall live in the present, past, and future. Look to the onyx dragon and the Snake's mistake to find him. He alone shall be touched by the mental curse. Follow him. Fight for him. Die for him.' The prophecy describes you, Leader. The Living One is almost defeated. I suppose it is the second time for you, though, meaning he is almost defeated again. Tonight the skies were crimson above Tom's battle, and that Patronus that you cast was black, as is the color of any magic you perform, whether you are stunning someone or sentencing them to death. When Tom tried to torture you, you didn't scream, but instead faced it, and the Cruciatus curse drew blood from you. That's impossible, and that is the Snake's mistake. He angered you," she explained, a desperate note slightly audible in her voice.

"And you are the Princess it speaks of?" I asked, getting to my feet. I was about an inch taller than her, even in my seventeen-year-old body.

"Indeed. Now, all that needs to be done is for you to see my face," she began to lower her hood, and Voldemort and Malfoy looked up despite themselves. It was clear that the Princess always wore her hood up.

And then the hood was down. Malfoy almost screamed, and Voldemort let out a gasp. Before me stood a familiar woman robed in white, a silver tiara upon her brow. The shock was enough to make me want to vomit. Before me stood -

Ginny.