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SIYE Time:12:12 on 29th March 2024
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After
By Senator of Sorcery

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Category: Alternate Universe, Asylum Challenge (2013-3), Asylum Challenge (2013-3)
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, All, Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Lily Potter, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, Other, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Disturbing Imagery, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 105
Summary: *** Winner of Best Overall, Best Drama and the People’s Choice Award in the Asylum Challenge ***
*Nominated for 2014 April/May and November/December DSTA for Best Romance and Best Drama* *Nominated for 2016 January/February DSTA for Best Drama and Best Completed*

Ginny's plans for the weekend were just perfect: a day out in Hogsmeade with her girlfriends. Spend the morning window shopping and wishing, then lunch at the Three Broomsticks, and then to the local theater for a production of the Scottish Play (Macbeth).


Unfortunately, the bad luck of the Scottish Play strikes before it even starts. The village is invaded by Death Eaters, Dementors, and a man she had hoped to never see again in her life.


And in the middle of the battle, Ginny sees something she'd never thought she'd see. Voldemort and one of her greatest friends dueling; Harry Potter and Voldemort fighting so fiercely, she lost focus on her own battle. Harry Potter, crying out, falling, and hitting the ground. Dead.

And then, someone she never expected to help her saves her from Voldemort’s wrath.
Hitcount: Story Total: 167867; Chapter Total: 5655





Author's Notes:
Here's the next chapter, I'm sorry it took so long, I've been really busy lately. Enjoy!




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Chapter Six

Souls and Secrets


I hear her before I see her. She’s crying harder than before, and her light is pulsing, and growing dim. A moment ago, she was hiding from me. Now she sobs, and cries out ‘Why?’ I hear her, but I can do nothing. My throat closes each time I open my mouth. Words I intend to give will not come. I form them in my mind, and go to form them on lips. But they vanish before I can say them. Her sobs tear at my heart. I want to comfort her, but she dances away from me still. Her crying pulls tears from my own eyes. Her sobs causes an ache to rise in my chest. A fiery beast that once roared in anger as she danced away now cries along with her. I reach out, trying to grasp her hand, but she pulls away from me, and cries still.

‘Why me?’ she cries. ‘I tried so hard! Why did you have to die before I found out? I tried so hard…’

I want to comfort her, but I don’t know why she’s crying, and my lips are glued together. They refuse to open. So instead, I crawl toward her, still on my knees, and try to touch her arm. But she dances still, and screams at me ‘No!’ I am confused, what did I do? Her light grows bright, so bright I must shield my eyes, and she falls to the ground beside me. I extend a hand, to grasp hers. She just sits there, staring at my hand. We sit there, unmoving, I don’t know how long.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*


I stared into the dregs of my hot chocolate. They were bitter, and the spices had gathered in
them, making them undrinkable. I didn’t care; I drank them anyway. They tasted the way I felt:
cold, confused, and bitter. The memory of my name forming in the smoke tore at me. I couldn’t
understand; I couldn’t. Why did it have to be me? I had tried so hard to convince myself that I was
not going to be his match; that I was an average soul, with seven matches, that we were just
friends. I had tried so hard to get over him, and now I was his soul mate. Why?

“Miss, is there anything else Lemon can do for you?” I glanced up, the house elf was standing
there, wringing her hands and looking concerned.

“No thank you,” I whispered. “Not unless you can undo today.”

“Lemon is afraid that Lemon cannot do that, Miss. Is you feeling upset?”

“Yeah.”

“It is not Lemon’s place, but… what about?”

“My best friend is dead, and I’m his soul mate,” I muttered.

“Lemon is understanding,” the old house elf sighed. “Lemon is once being in love.”

“House elves fall in love?” I asked.

“Well, of course,” Lemon scoffed. “How is you thinking there is being so many of us?”

“I don’t know, I never thought about it.”

“Humph,” Lemon said irritably. She sat down beside me, and tugged her toga like tea towel
farther down her knees. “Youngsters. You is never thinking about such things.”

I looked in surprise at the old elf. She seemed more relaxed than any of the others.

“Tell Lemon about your problem.”

“Okay, well,” I sighed, “you know who Harry Potter is.”

“Of course.”

“Well, he’s dead.”

“I is knowing.”

“Before he died, he was one of my best friends. After he died, I found out that I’m his soul
match.”

“Fidelis Animas?”

“How do you know?”

“Miss, Lemon is being here for many years. Lemon is being the counsel of many students.
Lucius Malfoy is discovering the idea of Fidelis Anima many years ago, he is telling Lemon about
it then. You is Potter’s soul match.”

“Yeah.”

“And he is dead?”

“Exactly.”

“That is sad. Don’t you be going and killing yourself, now. He’d be wanting you to live.”

“That’s not it. Malfoy is going to bring him back.”

“Lemon is understanding,” the elf said.

“You do?”

“Yes. You is having a piece of soul in you that is belonging to Harry, and Harry is having a piece
of your soul. You be going to pull him back.”

“Malfoy really explained it to you, then.”

“He is being very excited about it. Is you excited to be bringing back your soul match?”

“Yes! Of course I am,” I said, “I just… I don’t know, I spent so long trying to just be his friend…”

“Tell Lemon,” the old elf said. “What is you confused about?”

“Everything,” I groaned. “I used to have the silliest crush on him,” I said, the corners of my mouth turning up in a small smile. “I loved to hear about the great Harry Potter when I was a kid. And then I met him, and he’s this awkward little boy and nothing like what I expected him to be. He was still cute, though. I’ve been trying so hard to get over him! And now, I don’t know what to think. If we’re soul matches, we’re the worst pairing ever. He thinks of me as ‘Ron’s little sister’, always has,” I grumbled.

“Lemon is loving someone who isn’t loving her back for a while,” Lemon said. “Lemon is thinking he never see her for real. But Lemon is being wrong, and so is you. Lemon is sure he love you back soon.”

“He’s dead,” I said. “How’s he supposed to love me if he’s dead?”

“The Waiting Realm, Lemon is thinking, can let him. Yes?”

“I don’t know!” I groaned. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Lemon is not knowing,” the old elf sighed. “What is you supposed to be doing when your heart is breaking?”

“I thought I was over him,” I mumbled, more to myself. “I’m dating a great guy, he’s sweet, he’s kind; I thought I was over Harry! Why can’t life just be simple?”

“Life is never being fair,” Lemon said. “Life is never being simple. Lemon is not knowing why.”

I looked at her, sadness in my eyes. “Harry’s dead,” I whispered. “I’m his soul match. I don’t know whether I’m happy or sad or angry! And he’s dead,” my voice cracked, and I felt something warm and wet on my cheek. “What if it doesn’t work?” I said, reaching up to brush aside the tear. “What if he stays dead? What do I do?”

“Lemon is not knowing.”

I stood up, handing Lemon the empty mug. “I have to go,” I whispered. “Malfoy will probably want to talk to me about bringing Harry back.” I turned away, to go.

“You is coming back,” Lemon said. “Whenever you is needing to talk, you is coming back to old Lemon, all right?”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing back. “Sure.” I turned away again, and my feet carried me swiftly from the kitchens. Outside, the corridors were still empty. I’d have to ask Dumbledore where everyone had gone.

As I walked back to Gryffindor tower, my thoughts were in turmoil. My main thought was: Why did I have to find out that Harry and I were destined for each other after he died?

Back on the seventh floor, the Fat Lady swung open as I approached, looking at me with such a sorrowful look in her eyes. I whispered my thanks, and stepped through the portrait hole. Draco was still sitting by the fire. He looked up as I passed.

“Feeling better, weasel?” he sneered. I drew my wand.

“Back off, Malfoy,” I snapped.

“Touchy,” he said. “Who was it?”

“That’s none of your business,” I growled. “Leave me alone if you know what’s good for you.”

“Fine,” he drawled. “Father’s waiting for you.”

“I know,” I muttered, sticking my wand back in my pocket. I turned to the stairs, and climbed them in silence. Back in Harry’s dormitory, Malfoy and Dumbledore were talking in low tones, and Alasdair was sitting on Harry’s trunk. I hesitated in the doorway, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Ah, Weasley,” Malfoy was the first to notice me.

“I’m sorry I ran out like that,” I mumbled.

“No matter, no matter,” Malfoy said. “We need to get down to business.”

He walked over to me, holding the book in his outstretched hands.

“The Returning spell is extremely complex, and, as I have said before, Potter’s match, you, must perform it.”

“What will it take?” I asked.

“There are four parts to the spell, each doubling in difficulty with each part. Parts One through Three are more like tests than spells, the magic is to gage your worth and your desperation. It seems to me as though the magic has a sentient overseer, almost,” Malfoy said, now flicking through the pages of the book. “Part one demands you prove your worth, part three to prove the worth of your match. Part two’s design, I believe, is to prove your ‘longing’ for your match to return. Again, it’s as though there is someone waiting for you to pass each of these tests-”

“Tests?” I repeated. “You want me to prove I want Harry back?”

“To bring him back, yes, you must pass all three tests,” said Malfoy, glancing up at me. “At the end of each test, the book says you will be given a piece of the magic, and after passing the third test, you will have all three pieces of the fourth part of the spell.”

“Doesn’t the book say how to bring him back?” I asked.

Malfoy shook his head. “Without the key pieces from the tests, the spell is useless.”

I bit my lip, my eyes wandering without permission to the bed where Harry’s body lay.

“What do I have to do?” I asked; my voice soft.

Malfoy held out the book. I took it from him, my hands shook.

“The first test, as I said, calls for you to prove your worth. To start it, it requires a specific situation: The time must be right; the place must be exactly as the book says, but other than that, I have no way to prepare you. I do not even know what will happen.”

I looked up at him, startled. “We don’t know what will happen?”

“I am afraid so.”

I looked back to the book. “This is really complex,” I muttered, “Half of this isn’t even English!”

“That’s the part where it explains the test,” Malfoy said, “what it supposed to determine, what it will do, et cetera.”

“Will it turn to English like the song spell?”

“I doubt it,” Malfoy said with a slight smile.

I sighed, and turned back to the book. I frowned. “Malfoy, this says we have to be at Stonehenge…”

“Yes, that is the required place for this test.”

“This test?” I repeated. “There a separate locations for each test?”

“Well, yes,” he said. “Different times as well.”

I glanced back to the book. “We have to brew another potion?”

“For test three, yes,” he said.

“How do we prove Harry’s worthy of returning?” I asked.

“We will not know unless you pass the first test”

I sighed, and raised a hand to rub my eyes.

“Can we do it tomorrow?” I asked softly. Malfoy glanced at his watch, and nodded.

“We will leave then,” he said. “Professor, I take my leave. I suggest you and your nephew do the same.”

He strode across the room, and opened the door. He looked back to Dumbledore. Professor Dumbledore raised a finger, his eyes on me.

“Lucius, Alasdair, if I might have a moment alone with Miss Weasley,” he said. Malfoy shrugged, and left. Alasdair stood hesitantly, but after a look from Dumbledore, he turned on his heel and followed Malfoy out.

“What is it, Professor?” I said.

“I would like to continue our conversation from earlier,” he said.

I sighed. “Professor, I’m very tired, and today has been really taxing. I just want to get some sleep.”

“I’m afraid it cannot wait,” he said.

I exhaled slowly, crossed the room to Harry’s old bed, and sat down upon it. “What?”

“While you were gone,” Dumbledore started, “I began reading that book. It spoke of many things in addition to the Returning Spell, and the Finding Potion. One of the things it spoke of was the connection between matches.”

“And?”

“A Fidelis Anima is connected mind and soul with his match, and when one dies, a part of the other goes with them.”

“I already know that, Professor,” I whispered, more to myself. Ever since Harry’s death, I had felt empty, confused and cold inside. All that had changed in the past few hours was that I now knew why.

“It is the same if one leaves,” he continued. “Yesterday, if Tom Riddle had succeeded in charming you over to his side, though I doubt it, and Harry not died, he would be in the same state you are now.”

“I still don’t see your point.”

“I believe Lord Voldemort did not intend to kill Harry during the attack, I believe his intention was to break him. By removing you from Harry’s side, he would have sent Harry into a spiral of depression and he would have lost much of his will. He would be just as confused and upset as you are now.”

“How is that supposed to help me?” I muttered. “Harry’s still dead.”

“I believe Lord Voldemort resurrected one of his Horcruxes purely to change your allegiance to him, so as to break Harry’s will.”

“So what?” I snapped. “That doesn’t change anything! Harry’s still dead, and we still don’t know how Tom came back!”

Professor Dumbledore pursed his lips, and sighed. “We do not know anything for certain, but I do have a theory.”

“What?” I said, drawing my legs up to my chest.

“When you gained possession of Tom Riddle’s diary, you poured your entire essence into that diary, your very soul, and the diary started pouring itself into you. By the time you were taken into the Chamber, and young Mr. Potter came to rescue you, the piece of soul in that diary was very strong, to the point that it came out of the diary, and was almost solid. I believe that Lord Voldemort used that same process to pull a piece of his soul out of one of his Horcruxes, to create a second him.”

“He would have had to suck the life out of someone,” I muttered. “But then, when has he ever cared about anyone else?”

“Yes, that is true,” Dumbledore said. “Lord Voldemort has never held the life of other beings in high regard.”

My lips parted in a yawn. Professor Dumbledore smiled slightly, and backed away. “I shall take that as my cue to leave. I wish you a good night’s rest, Miss Weasley.” He turned, and walked to the door. At the door, he turned back, gave a little wave, and left, shutting the door behind him. I glanced around. I was alone now, all alone but for the body; all that was left of my best friend. I squeezed my eyes shut, and lay back on the bed. It still smelled like him, like broom polish and the all-spice cologne I gave him for his birthday and something else distinctly masculine. I curled up on my side, hugging his pillow to my chest, inhaling the scent that for so long, I associated with safety and freedom.

I closed my eyes, and fell into sleep’s dark clutches.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*

Before, there was nothing but white around me, but now it is dark, like the night sky. Her light pulses a deep purple now, shot with streaks of dark red and streams of gold. She’s lying on the ground, and she’s sleeping, but crying as well. I am on my knees again. I want to go to her, but my body refuses to obey. She doesn’t sob as she did before, but sniffles and shakes silently. I can hear her voice, soft and melancholic; she whispers in her sleep.

‘Why did you have to go?’ she says. ‘Why did you have to be mine after you died? How am I
supposed to prove you’re worthy if you’re dead? I want you here. Why aren’t you here?’

It is as if I am waiting for her to say this. I fall forward, so I am on my hands and knees. I crawl
forward, towards her, and as I do, her whispers grow louder, and more frantic.

‘Where are you? Why aren’t you here? I need you with me. I’m scared… I don’t understand!’

I am by her side now. She’s shaking, her body racked with silent sobs. I reach out a hand, and
touch her shoulder. Ever other time I tried to touch her, she pushed me away, but now she reaches out to me, and I pull her up off the ground, into my arms. Her crying halts and she lies still in my arms. I hold her tight to me, trying to find my voice. I want to say something to her, to comfort her, but I will have to settle for just being there, because no words come to my tongue. I cannot think of anything, so I just hold her, and she clings to me for dear life.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I’m lying on cold ground. My eyes fly open, and my heart starts to pound. I sit up slowly, looking around in fear. It can’t be, no, but it is. I’m in the Chamber of Secrets again. Water flows all around me, behind me, the sixty foot statue of Salazar Slytherin looks down on me with cold indifference. I hurry to my feet, tensed and ready to run.

“There is no point, Weasley.” His voice sends shivers up my spin. I turn slowly around, and my hands fly to my mouth. Tom stands before me, his lips curled in a cruel smirk, holding the end of a rope in one hand. The rest of the rope is thrown up in the air, hooked around a carved stone snake, and it dangles ten feet off the ground, its end knotted around the throat of a boy. A chair lies on its side on the ground, beneath his feet, which are a few feet up off the ground his face is colorless, his black hair setting a stark contrast.

Harry.

I run forward, reaching up to pull him down, and Tom grabs my arm. His sneer grows wider, and he hisses in my ear, “You strung the rope, Weasley. You helped him onto the chair, and you knocked it over. At least, you caused him to do so. I’m proud of you.”

I wrench my arm away from him, starring up at Harry, who revolves slowly in the air. His eyes are closed; he looks peaceful, despite the rope around his neck.

What did I do?

Tom seems to hear my thoughts, for he smiles wider and grips my arm again. “I charmed you so well, Ginevra Weasley, you came running to my side when I called you. You broke that poor boy’s heart,” he grins at me, and he puts an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. “You’re a good girl, Ginevra, and now my enemy is dead. And it’s all thanks to you.”

I jerk away from Tom, and run to where Harry dangles over the ground. I stand up the chair, climb on top of it, and reach up to loosen the rope around his neck. My fingers brush against his skin. It is cold, clammy, dead.

The chair breaks beneath me, and I fall. The ground vanishes, and I tumble through dark nothingness. I open my mouth to scream, but no air passes my lips. The rope holding Harry off the ground snaps, and he falls with me. Tom hovers above our falling bodies, laughing cruelly. I reach through the rushing air to grab Harry’s hand, and suddenly, he’s alive. He flails through the air, and screams. I grab his hand, and he looks at me. His eyes are full of fear, but as I lock my gaze on his, it turns to hurt.

Then we are on solid ground again. I can see nothing around us, it’s all white. I’m sitting on the ground, and he’s on his knees. He’s still reaching for me. I for him, and we brush fingers. Then I am being pulled away from him, I yell, I strain to grab his hand, but then I’m surrounded by blackness, and he’s gone. My hands and arms tremble as I stand up, and my legs shake uncontrollably. I feel hot tears well up in my eyes, and I blink them away quickly. There is nothing in this black expanse but me, and it isn’t the darkness that makes my heart speed up, but the unknown. What is out there?

I turn slowly on the spot, trying to find something in the blackness. Far away, to my left I see a spark. A glimmer of something white. I take off towards it, pumping my arms, trying to reach it before it goes out. I am almost upon it. I reach out a hand, groping for the flickering white light, and it goes out. I am alone in the black oblivion again. I spin on the spot, my heart pounding, searching my surroundings for something, anything.

There is nothing.

I bring my hand up over my mouth, stifling a sob. Is this all that’s left in me now? Empty darkness that fills my dreams and fears? I’d take the nightmare’s over this, over this barren expanse. My hands tremble over my mouth, blocking any sound from escaping my lips. Why this, why bleakness and cold confusion? Why fear and pain, why couldn’t I be a normal teenage girl and fear nothing worse than exams and loosing the next Quidditch match? Why? Where was my ‘knight in shining armor’ when I needed him?

Oh, that’s right, I think. He’s dead.

I sink to my knees and push my hands up over my face into my hair, pulling at my locks. I open my mouth and let out a loud, long scream of frustration and grief.

Then, it happens again. Right beside me, there is a glimmer of white light once more. I jump to my feet, startled, as I hear a voice through the white flash.

“Ginny!” they call. “Ginny, wake up!”

I opened my eyes to bright sunlight, and blinked.

“Ginny,” Hermione stood at my bedside, shaking my shoulder. “Come on, Malfoy says we can do the first test today!”
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