Through the Looking Glass

Through the Looking Glass

He manages to corner her on the way to the chamber, in one of the classrooms. Her face is perfectly still, her lips parted, her eyes devouring in their ecstasy. She looks like Hekate, terrible in her anger and power. He realises that he's never seen her like this before. It alarms him.

"Ginny." His voice is quiet, but there are echoes, like thousands of condemning voices repeating his words. The walls seem too close, the room too small. He stares into her eyes.

There is nothing left.

She blinks, slowly, as if coming out of a dream. Unhurriedly, she turns to face him, as if seeing him for the first time.

Her voice is blank.

"That is not my name." There is no recognition in her eyes. She no longer knows him. He feels himself shattering at the realization.

There is no sound.

He could have been screaming.

Her hand comes up to brush back a strand of Weasley-red hair. The motion is completely mechanical. He wants to run up to her, shake her hard, make her come back. He wants to force life back into this wooden marionette, this limp, laughable imitation. The puppet is right about one thing. This is certainly not Ginny.

He wants to, so he does.

It does not struggle as he grasps it on both sides. He gazes at its red, painted lips, its pale, freckled skin and lifeless brown eyes.

There is nothing left.

He lifts it and is appalled at how very light it is, like it is made of hollow wood or glass. Unnerved, he shakes it hard. The gaze full of judgement doesn't change. It doesn't even blink.

He becomes aware that he is shouting.

"...give her back, you monster! Make Ginny come back!" He grasps it by its neck and stares into its eyes.

It is choking wordlessly now, limbs flaying woodenly. But still, the face is moulded out of porcelain.

There is nothing left.

His hands are tiring. There are tiny tremors in his forearms. He holds on.

After all, there is nothing left.

It begins to pry at his hands. Its nails cut into his skin. The cuts are bleeding. He is oblivious to the pain.

There is nothing, nothing -

Its brow furrowed. There seems to be recognition in its eyes. He knows her, now. He has exorcised the monster. Ginny is back.

He lets go in relief and hugs her hard.

"Oh, Ginny, Ginny. Don't ever leave me again."

She smiles at him, clear and sweet like honey. Leans forward to whisper in his ear.

"There is nothing left, dear brother."

There is an eternity between the sight of the hilt sticking out of his neck and the actual pain. She doesn't have a wand, but she has always loved ceremony.

There is no sound as he looks into her eyes, one last time, almost proud that he should be her first kill.

"Goodbye, Ron." Her cheeks are flushed, her face is painted with his blood and she is smiling. Every bit his little sister.

There is nothing left. We are now free.

The End