Who: Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley When: June 11, 2002 Where: Wooded Area just outside Bournemouth, England. Late afternoon. Rating: TBA Status: Incomplete / Thread Summary: Ginny escapes from captivity with quite a few injuries, and does the only thing she can think of. Ask for help.
The impossible had come the reality. A reality that was far to convenient and conducive to capturing Harry Potter into his grasp, finally an end would be given to that dreadful Prophecy and that it would come at the hands of the one thing Potter was unable to do without....that only seemed to heighten the deal.
Ginevra, as he had instructed her to be called, was nothing more than a simple plaything. An amusing tactic that he could admire if only because he had claimed her mind at the tender of age of eleven, and had proceeded to excerise the very same power merely years later. He had been unpleased to learn that she had managed to break through the memory charm, and his instructions to Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters were clear. She would pay for her disobedience. However, the mistake made by one of the more useless of his followers to leave her journal in Ginevra's possession had become invaluable, it was then that he had seen what was required of his little pawn. In order to gain something, he would have to let her go (and at the least make her feel as if she could not be touched by himself or the Lestrange's again).
Being the advanced master that he was, it was of little effort or consequence to create the proper spells and memories as the girl lay crumpled beneath him on the floor. It had been a pity that her latest round of punishment had been so short, but a week in a dark room without food and the never-ceasing mind games and hours of her punishment had left her weak. Short of sending her to Potter dead, things had reluctantly come to an end. The memory was vivid in all five senses, so carefully mastered that there would be no question of doubt in her mind.
A wand was slipped into her pocket, summoned from the last unfortunate wizard who had crossed his path. The rest would be left up to Rodolphus.
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It was odd, the sensation of moving from sleep into the sort of half-consciousness that brings one back into the world. But Ginny already knew that something wasn't quite right. She could feel warmth on her face, and a slight rustle in her hair as if from wind. Wind that couldn't exist down in the dungeon of the Lestrange Manor.
She opened her eyes slowly, prepared for it to be some trick of the mind and for Voldemort to again be standing over her with his gleaming red eyes and a wand pointed at her chest. An idea that proved to be false as she was met with only warm sunshine, knee high grass, and no one in her immediate line of vision. Although that doesn't mean anything., she found herself thinking even as she attempted to move into a position that would certainly allow her to run if she was required to do so.
If someone had been around, the scream that suddenly pierced the air would have certainly lead a Death Eater right to her. And even as she fell back onto the grass, uttering breathless curses and clutching at her now freely bleeding side Ginny knew that she was far from safe. The memory was full in her mind, how she had been left alone with the boy they all called Jack. He couldn't have been more than seventeen, and while it had very nearly cost her everything she could muster in strength it hadn't been difficult to take him down and steal his wand. And then she had slipped out of her cell, through the back staircase and into the kitchen. The stunning of Rowle and the Lestrange's house elf had been unfortunate, but she had gotten away all the same. The question was, how did she get someone to come and help her.
Her left arm was most certainly broken, and if she didn't think quickly she would most certainly bleed to death in the middle of a field. It was only the thought of rescue that allowed her to conjure a Patronus, and the effect itself was far from the majestic animal that would usually bloom from her wand and toss its mane. It was only through reading Hermione's sixth-year Transfiguration book that she had learned to send the Mustang to other people, and only her lack of practice that left her unable to add a message onto the tag. Later she would certainly be upset with herself at the one person who came to her mind, knowing the danger he would be in by even possibly apparating into the country but before she had a moment to consider a different idea the silver light had been streaking across the field to find its recipient, Harry Potter.