Ginny looked at me, a proud smirk plastered across her face. "Hey Ace!" she waved with her empty hand.
"Ginny! Your mother would kill you if she knew you were out here!" She shrugged, turning her gaze back to the woman.
"She'd kill me for a lot less" she laughed, and with a flick of her wand, the woman began to slowly inflate like a balloon. Her sausage-like fingers grew in size, and unable to keep grasp on her wand, it skittered to the floor. Ginny directed the woman towards an open window and slowly, painfully, she squeezed her way outside. I quickly recovered the abandoned wand, snapping it over my knee twice.
"Ginny, seriously." She rolled her eyes, which then fixated on the cut on my arm. "I'm fine, I swear." I said, noticing her gaze.
"Well I am too. You should have seen what happened at the bridge though, you and George would have-" she stood up on her tip toes, peering around me. "Where is George?"
I bit my lip, forcing myself not to cry. "There was an explosion, and we got separated. I have no clue where he is." She furrowed her eyebrows with concern. "We're supposed to meet back in the Great Hall if this happened."
She returned her gaze back to my arm. "Alright" she nodded. "I suppose that's where most of the fighting is happening, anyways. Before we go back there, though, let's get that cut sorted out, ya?"
She grabbed me by the wrist, as bold as she's ever been, and dragged me into the closest lavatory. "We can't have you scarring up too badly before your wedding. Merlin knows that Bill and Fleur had that department covered." She attempted to lighten the mood, and cast her wand in the direction of the closet candles. She tore off the hem of her cloak and wetted it under the sink. "You know, Fleur is nice and everything, for a Beauxbatons girl. But I'm waaay more excited for you to officially be my sister." She wiped the blood from my arm, revealing a razor-thin gash that continued to fill up with blood. "Seriously, you must be a Saint, the way that you manage to put up with Fred and George's nonsense all the time."
I shrugged, wincing at the sting of the material against my skin. "You get used to it" I gritted through my teeth.
Ginny laughed, hard. "I've been living with them for sixteen years and I certainly haven't gotten used to it" she wiped away more blood. "This isn't going to clot up anytime soon. Listen, we learned a thing or two this year, hiding away from the likes of the Carrows and all. I've only used it once or twice. Do you trust me?"
I thought back to the scars that covered my torso. I wasn't really dying to add to my collection. "Okay" I nodded, and she put the tip of her wand to my skin,
"Vulnera Sanentur" she chanted, her voice like a song as she drew her wand across my cut. I watched in awe as the skin of my arm began to knit itself back together again. "Sweet, it worked" she beamed, admiring her handiwork.
I'd seen the spell once or twice while studying my NEWTs textbooks, but I never had a reason to see it in action. Besides, these sorts of spells were only covered more extensively in Healers school. "Nice job!" I smiled at her, wiping off the last remnants of blood from my arm.
"Now that that's taken care of, shall we venture down to the Great Hall?" she suggested so casually, you'd think we were heading down for a typical Hogwarts dinner, instead of running headlong into a magical civil war.
I opened my mouth to speak, only for a booming voice to cut through the air.
"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured."
"Was that V-?" Ginny looked at me questioningly. Before I could respond, I was interrupted by the now-familiar feeling of an explosion under my feet. Behind us, a window shattered, and a boulder was hurled into the rows of sinks and mirrors.
The room seemed to erupt, and instinctively I threw my body atop of Ginny's, shielding her from the debris falling around us. Stones and cold pieces of porcelain pelted my back with momentum, and I used every bit of my resolve to stay upright and not scream in fear and pain. A particularly heavy piece of something crashed down onto my back, driving me downwards and pinning Ginny to the floor beneath me.
When the shaking finally stopped, Ginny poked her head out from under her arms. "I guess that the giants don't understand the meaning of a cease-fire" she said haughtily, pulling herself up to her feet and shaking the dust from her robes.
"Yeah" I groaned, straightening up painfully. "You okay?" I asked and she nodded, pushing her hair from her face. "Okay, good. Let's get out of here before the entire room falls in on us." I took a step forward and winced, pain shooting through my side.
"Are you ok?" she said, taking me by the wrist and towing me from the room. "I must have felt, like, twenty things hit you."
I shrugged, doing my best to hide the amount of pain I had suddenly began to feel in my back. "Just a bit sore" I smiled through gritted teeth.
Ginny raised an eyebrow at me, holding down my arm as she lifted the back of my cloak to reveal my back.
"Merlin, Ace, you bruise easily, eh?" she noted, touching my skin lightly with her fingertips.
"Or so they tell me." Despite how lightly she touched my skin, it felt as though she was poking me with a hot poker.
"Besides the bruising, you seem to be in one piece" she mused. "Should probably go get checked out by Madame Pomfrey once we get down to the Great Hall."
"Sure" I agreed, and began to march down to the steps. "Only after I find George first." We walked in silence for a few moments, every step feeling like a massive effort, as we followed the increasingly large crowd of people. Some were absolutely fine, while other certainly looked worse for wear, clothes stained with dirt and blood. Others, eyes cast downwards, helped in carrying the bodies of what I assumed were our fallen comrades.
"That poor family" someone in the crown muttered to their partner. "You know, with so many children in the fight, it was bound that one of them would get killed. But nothing can prepare you for that."
I cast a sideways glance at Ginny, confirming that she was hearing what I was hearing too. "I don't know how they're able to tell them apart, being identical in all." I felt my heartrate begin to quicken uncontrollably as we fought our way through the crowd.
"One of them lost an ear last year, remember?" The wizard nodded in recognition and I began to feel my legs go weak.
It couldn't be.
As if to be sharing a brain, Ginny and I began to sprint through the crowd, pushing through the throngs of people making their way in the same direction. My mind began to race. There was no other explanation to what the wizard was saying. Large family, identical, missing ear. The world became a tunnel as Ginny and I barreled our way down the final corridor and the towering doors of the Great Hall came into view.
It couldn't be George. I'd only seen him a moment ago. He was fine. We'd been separated, but he was fine.
In front of us, the hall was filled with cots holding the bodies of the injured and dead. A few rows in, a familiar gathering of red-headed people were crowded together. I had suddenly lost feeling in my hands and feet as every step brought us closer, and I was able to make out the image of a long-legged boy sprawled out on the cot between them. The sounds of sobbing rang in my ears, and my head began to grow light as I caught the sight of Molly kneeling on the ground, the head of the boy in her lap.
"No" I was barely able to catch my breath as we made our final approach. Crouched beside the boy was his equally lanky counterpart, his cries muffled by his hands. Careful not to disturb the grieving family, I stepped around the group and approached the remaining twin. Through his matted hair, I was only able to count a single ear.
"George" I whispered, and he turned to face me with tear-stained cheeks. Instinctively, I reached out a hand to touch his cheek, faintly recognizing the feeling of television static in my fingers.
"Ace" he murmured, his face collapsing only after a moment. My legs, no long able to support my weight, buckled beneath me as I pulled him into my chest. He began to sob once more, his fingers clinging to the raw hem of my robe. My hands daftly stroked his back, and through my tears, I cast a look at Molly, who nodded mournfully at me before returning her gaze to dead son.
Fred Weasley laid on the cot, his glossy eyes fixed up at the ceiling. His chest did not rise or fall, but was still. I couldn't tell if it was my imagination, or my vision clouded by tears, but I could swear that even in death, he seemed to be smirking.
The entire Weasley clan stood around us, the grief in the air unbearable as even Percy let his emotions flow. I felt my stomach flip in nausea, and I forced myself to breathe deeply. George continued to cry into me, and I tightened to grip on him.
The pain in my back had begun to fade into a tingling, numb sensation that I welcomed. I didn't need the bare the physical pain when the flood of sadness that came crashing down caused me a level of pain I'd never thought I had experienced before. Seeing that George was okay had caused me a greedy moment of relief, but that hadn't made the pain of Fred's death any more bearable. It felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest, but I wanted nothing more than to take on the endless amount of suffering that George must have been feeling at that moment. He wasn't my twin, but he certainly had been a brother to me.
I allowed myself to look around the room, taking registry of those who had also fallen. I did not recognize most of them, but I was certain that I could spot Lavender amongst the dead. My heart ached slightly, remembering back to the time I had punched her in the face. She could be insufferable at times, but she didn't deserve to die.
I looked back at Fred, the pain in my chest increasing tenfold. None of them did.
The calm of the armistice seemed to collapse in around us, as I held George in my arms for what felt like hours. I shifted uncomfortably on my knees, drawing in a deep breath and coughing loudly. I covered my mouth with my sleeve, careful not to shift too much and disturb George. He looked up at me, eyes blood shot.
"You ok?" he asked quietly, and I stroked his hair with my tingling fingers.
"Mhm" I hummed and he turned his head to look back at Fred and his mum. I pulled my sleeve away from my mouth, noting the red hue that had splattered across the material.
That can't be good.
The voice at the back of my mind was enough to cause me to flinch in shock. I blinked, looking down at my sleeve once more.
I'm fine, I thought. I attempted to push the voice out of my mind, but it's resurgence certainly was worrying.
I really don't think you are.
Well, nows not the time. George needs me.
Ya, exactly. George needs you. And you promised him you weren't going to sacrifice yourself for anyone else again. George needs you to be okay. Go get yourself sorted out. They'll be here when you get back. Nothing you do right now can change it.
I swallowed thickly, casting my gaze at Fred's body once more. My heart panged, and I looked down at George. He was distraught. I attempted to take a deep breath, and it felt like lightning had struck right between my ribs.
Okay, fine. I grudgingly shifted, moving George in my lap once more.
"My legs are asleep though, love. I think I need to take a walk. Are you ok to stay here?" It wasn't a lie. My legs had gone suspiciously numb, but I didn't think my sitting position had anything to do with it.
He nodded, shifting so that his knees were pulled against his chest. I rose to my feet, also tingling, and made my way out of the Great Hall. I examined my sleeve under the light, licking my lips only to receive the sharp note of copper.
I set forth to find a lavatory with in-tact mirrors, taking a few tries before I found one that hadn't been entirely smashed so that I could see the entirety of my back. A hiss escaped my lips as I removed my cloak, the movement of my shoulders causing stabs of pain through my core. Next, I lifted the back of my shirt, as Ginny had done moments after the impact.
The entirety of my left side, and most of my lower back had turned a disturbing colour of aubergine purple, the likes of any bruise I had never seen. The skin seemed swollen, if not distended. I raised a finger to prod at the flesh, and had to simultaneously hold back a scream of agony and a flood of bile that threatened to spew from my insides.
This really isn't good, my inner voice said quietly. I'd been in a lot of situations before that didn't need her commentary, but I don't think I could remember a time where she sounded... scared.
Quickly, I turned down the corridor, following the buzz of noise to the smaller, quieter room that Madame Pomfrey had set up for the more critically, but not fatally, injured amongst our ranks. She and Nurse Wainscott flitted about with bandages and gauze, their wands carefully moving across cuts and wounds to mend them. I waited for a moment in which one of them wasn't actively working with a patient, approaching Madame Pomfrey first.
"Madame Pomfrey I-"I started, and she rounded on me with sullen eyes.
"Acelynne, dear" my appearance suddenly caused her to beam. "Just the person I was thinking of!"
"Oh, I-"
"You said you were interested in healing, if I remember correctly. We're a bit short handed at the moment! Could you step in and assist us?" She continued to zoom around the room with the speed and energy of someone half her age.
I took a moment to take in my surroundings. A witch in the corner was holding a large stack of bandages to her head, which her quickly staining red with blood. A wizard beside her appeared to be nursing what looked like a number of severed fingers. Compared to the people on the cots around us, I looked fit as a fiddle. Surely, they needed Madame Pomfrey's help more than I did. I was likely just bruised, very bruised, from my bombardment with bricks and stones.
I nodded, pulling my wand from my cloak. "Sure, where do you need me to start?"
________________________________________________________________________________
The sound of a grief-stricken wail filled the air and broke me from my trance, meticulously patching up a young wizard who'd been on the wrong end of a severing spell. I stood up from my kneeling position, taking a moment to brace myself against the wall as my head rushed from the too-quick movement.
Unlike a typical head-rush, my head continued to spin for more than a minute. I stumbled, the wave of nausea coming up again as I placed a knee back on the floor. "You alright?" the boy asked, and I nodded smally.
Liar.
Okay, fine, I knew I wasn't 100% alright, but clearly we had more pressing injuries to attend to. Once we'd patched up everyone we possibly could, then I would ask Madame Pomfrey to take a look at my side.
Weakly, I managed to fight to my feet once more, noting the ever growing sound of chaos from the Great Hall. I felt as though my legs were trying to pull me through mud as I took each step towards the door. "I'm going to see whats going on" I said, Madame Pomfrey raising a hand in recognition as she kept her eyes and wand fixated on the broken leg she was attempting to mend.
I felt as though I was being pulled underwater, the sounds outside the room becoming distorted and echoey. Chaos had erupted once more in the Great Hall, and I walked along the wall tightly as an onslaught of centaurs and house-elves made their was viciously through the corridors, overwhelming the enemy forces. Duals had resumed inside the hall, and I entered in time to find George, back on his feet with the support of Lee, pinning Corban Yaxley to the floor roughly.
"George!" I croaked, the sight of him bringing a small surge of adrenaline.
"Ace!" he shouted, casting a finishing hex at the man below him. "Where've you been?!" I reached down to pull him off of the floor, internally screaming at the pain this motion caused me.
"Madame Pomfrey asked for my help with some healing. I figured that you and your family needed a little time alone" I half-lied. He wrapped his arms around me quickly, and the pressure on my spine was enough to send a shock of pain so strong to my head, that I thought I might pass out. "What's happened?"
"Harry's dead" Lee said mournfully, in between duelling hexes he'd been exchanging with a new battle partner.
Before I could process the information, a whizz of light flashed by the side of my head. "Oi!" George scream, shooting back at the offender. "Keep your eyes up, Ace." Together, and with the help of a handful of house elves stabbing at the ankles of our foe, we managed to bring him to his knees.
"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH"
The familiar roar of Molly Weasley rung through the air, and all eyes turned their attention towards the disturbance. We watched in awe as Molly Weasley ushered Ginny, Hermione, and Luna out of the way and approached Bellatrix Lestrange, who cackled maniacally. Spell by spell they seemed to be matched, Molly clearly fuelled by something much deeper, much more significant than that of Lestrange. Every insult she hurled, every quip, only seemed to strengthen Molly's resolve.
And that's when it happened. Distracted by her own childish taunts, Lestrange left the window open for the kill-shot, where Molly struck her dead-center in the chest. She froze, and then clattered to the floor. This served as a reminder that we were right to be utterly terrified by Molly's wrath.
Voldemort screamed in disbelief, blasting away the professors he'd been dueling with. He rounded on Molly, and I closed my eyes tight. The fuel of her love had given her the strength to beat Bellatrix Lestrange, but I doubted that there was a love in the world great enough that could defeat the antithesis of love itself, Lord Voldemort. I braced myself for her end, but was instead startled by the whisper of awe that graced the crowd, followed by a round of cheers and cries.
I opened my eyes in disbelief, and Harry seemed to have come out of nowhere. He and Voldemort circled each other, exchanging words more venomous than any spell could ever be. The pain in my side began to fade once more, and I coughed another, deeper cough. This cough wracked my chest, threatening to break my ribs. Nobody seemed to notice as I wiped the blood from my sleeve onto my pants, and attempted to refocus on the final conflict before us. Their words sounded far away, and my vision began to blur, making it difficult for me to try to read their lips.
Slowly, the light of the new day began to creep in through the window, and it cast a path across the floor. I knew it was shining down on me, but its warmth was drowned out by the coldness that had begun to creep up from my fingers and toes, making its way up my arms. It was more than a chill, but the stinging. numbing sensation of being plunged into a bath of ice water.
Bursts of green and scarlet met, flames erupting in the centre of the dualling circle, and Voldemort's wand flew from his hand. Harry caught it mid-air, and the blast of green ricocheted back at Voldemort, who fell back to the ground, finally defeated. Everyone began to scream and cheer, George picking me up from around my legs and hoisting me in the air. "Harry did it!" he screamed, and I swore I could see fresh tears running down his face.
"He did it, Ace! He did it!" George screamed, holding me up above the crowd as they moved in to continue to support Harry.
I smiled down at him, the pain in my side now gone entirely. He put me down and kissed me softly on the lips. Lee made a childish noise at the sight. "What are you going on about mate? Don't you know how your baby was made?" George joked.
Lee beamed with pride, the realisation that his daughters future was all but secured. "You bet I do" he winked and joined in the rest of the crowd.
Another body racing towards Harry managed to catch me by the shoulder, knocking me off balance. George reacted quickly, breaking my fall and sweeping me up in his arms.
"What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly serious, swiftly walking in the opposite direction of the celebration. I tried to muster up a smile, but was completely drained.
"Can you take me to Madame Pomfrey?" I had to force my lips to form the words I needed them to say.
Without question, still carrying me close to his chest, George began to fast walk down the corridor. "All of the excitement of the day finally getting to ya?" he asked, and I nodded weakly. He didn't need to know about the bruise, or the blood. Not when he was already dealing with the loss of Fred. "It's ok, love. It's only the second biggest day of our lives." He reached a hand around me, fingering the ring on my necklace. "Just behind this one, of course."
"Ya, that one might be even scarier" I managed to tease, and he laughed. We entered into the secondary hospital wing, where Nurse Wainscott seemed to be holding down the fort.
"Take a seat over there" she gestured to an open cot. George obeyed, laying me down. "Is it emergent? I might be a while, elsewise."
"It's okay" I croaked. "Take your time." She smiled politely and continued about her work. I pushed myself over and made room for George. He crawled into the cot beside me, wrapping an arm under my shoulder tightly. A wave of fatigue crashed over me, and I stifled a yawn.
Liar. She sounded farther away this time, like my internal voice too had been pulled under an oncoming wave.
"Tired?" George whispered in my ear, and I nodded weakly. "It's ok, love. Close your eyes. I'll wake you when it's your turn." I turned my head, kissing him on the cheek softly.
"Okay" the word fell from my lips. "Love you" I mumbled, unable to resist the fatigue as it began to pull me under.
"Love you too, Ace" George said into my hair, pulling me closer. Warmth began to spread across my body and I allowed my eyelids to close, knowing that the trouble was officially past, and I was safe in George's arms.
______________________________________________________________________________
Ginny Weasley entered the make-shift hospital wing, taking a break from the revelry in the Great Hall. Her eyes flittered across the room, scanning for the missing members of their family. She figured that Acelynne and George would be glued at the hips, especially with what happened to Fred.
Ginny sniffled in sadness, thinking of her lost brother, before continuing to look through the cots.
She finally caught sight of the pair, wrapped in each-other's arms on a too-small cot. George's mouth was open slightly, mid-snore. "Psst, George" Ginny shook George by the shoulder, causing him to awake with a start.
"Huh, Ginny? Wha-da-ya want?" he rubbed his eyes groggily.
"How's she doing?" Ginny asked, staring down at Acelynne, her face peaceful and still.
"Just sleeping off the day" George smiled, casting a glance down at his girl.
"How bad was it?" Ginny's question caused George to furrow his eyebrows.
"How bad was what?"
Ginny matched her brothers expression. "Her back? That boulder that hit her had to be nearly four stone." George's face fell, taken aback at his sisters words.
"Boulder, what the hell are you on about?" The panic began to rise in George's chest as he looked back and forth between the face of his sister, and his fiancée.
Ginny huffed, pulling George out of the cot. "The boulder! From when the lavatory collapsed around us?" she asked. She bent down and shifted Acelynne's cloak, which had been wrapped tightly around her body. "It would have hit me if Acelynne hadn't put herself in front of it."
"She only told me she was tired" George's voice sounded small as Ginny pulled up the back of Acelynne's shirt. The skin of her back was so incredibly dark purple, it nearly looked black.
"Oh my" Ginny whispered, turning her head towards the reunited Nurse Wainscott and Madame Pomfrey.
"WE NEED HELP" the words came thundering out of George's mouth as he rolled Acelynne back over, grabbing her hand. Her skin was frigid between his. He tried to make sense of it. Acelynne always had cold hands. He reached a hand up to her cheek, only to be met with ice.
"MADAME POMFREY" he yelled once more, desperation seeping into his voice.
Both woman came trotting towards them. "I see you're finally awa-" Nurse Wainscott started, looking down at the chart in her hand.
"THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH HER" George screamed, and Madame Pomfrey held her hands up defensively.
"Now Mr. Weasley, I know you must be distressed by the loss of your brother. But there's no need to shout" she said gently, directing him back and away from the cot. Ginny found a grip on his elbow, partially to provide comfort, partially to hold him back. "She was in here helping with the wounded only a few hours ago, clearly she would have said if something was wrong. Did something happen after that?"
"The wall fell on us just before the cease-fire" Ginny whispered, and Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows at her, and pulled up the back of Acelynne's shirt, just as Ginny had. She observed the colour of the skin, trying weakly to keep the shocked expression from her face. She placed a hand on Acelynne's back, looking for the rise and fall which would indicate life. The girl was still, her body unnaturally cold.
Madame Pomfrey looked up at the Weasley siblings, her looked betraying her. "She didn't say anything..." she repeated, her voice cracking slightly as she fought to maintain her professional composure.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Weasley" she said, pulling the blanket up higher over the girl on the cot. "She's gone."
George blinked at her in disbelief, physically unable to process the news he'd just been delivered. "She's not gone. She's right here" he insisted, looking down at her face, smooth and peaceful.
"No" Ginny choked, unable to hold back tears to spare her brothers sensibilities. "She's gone, George."
George pulled away from her roughly, falling to his knees beside the cot. He reached a hand forward, brushing the hair from her face, just as he'd done a thousand times before. "She just said she was tired" he whispered, his fingers tracing the icy scar that ran from eyebrow to earlobe. "She was just tired."
Ginny knelt down beside him, laying a hand carefully on his knees. She didn't know what to say as he sat there, starring in disbelief at her shell. She didn't know what to say as he muttered under his breath, willing Acelynne to breath again.
And she didn't know what to do when the reality finally sunk in, and George Weasley began to cry. A bone shattering, earth shaking cry that could be heard across the castle escaped his lungs, crescendo-ing into an inhuman wail.
His girl, his Acelynne, was gone.