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Fatalistic Fate

In a single day and night god had saved and condemned the world.

She knew this to be true. The reality was as sharp as the breath grazing her neck.

She longed to turn, to stare her captor in the eyes one last time before it had the chance to tarnish the last piece of her that she could call whole.

Her soul, it was the one place no one could reach. Temptations had been dangled before it. Caches of the immortal sort had been laid before her, ripe for the taking, yet she had refused to allow such darkness to mar it.

Best to lay upon the damp soil, shivering as one's life passes by in blurred mirages, treasured thoughts dwindling down to fleeting memories as death's cruel grasp steals, rather than affords, one last look at one's life through rose colored lenses, than to succumb to the alluring call of temptation.


His cruel grasp had tightened around her throat earlier, squeezing the life air from her, long fingernails pricking at the delicate skin upon her neck.

"Come to me..."

Desperate for air her mind had found the strength of a thousand betrayed voices, all screaming it would be better to die than to become like the creature before her.

Its soulless red eyes had taken her writing figure in, her feet kicking as his unearthly grip raised her, allowing her to hover from his vice grip's noose, feet above the rain soaked earth.

He had spoken, and she had blocked it out.

His eyes, so soulless... No matter how many Horcruxes he made, no matter how long he lived, he could never regain the one thing he had so callously thrown away, the most precious of all...

His soul...

He flung her battered body to the ground, where she still lay, silently crying out to a god who no longer paid heed to pathetic, dying souls for redemption.

She had proven to weak to save them. Her body too human, for her life blood now flowed out in scarlet ringlets, coagulating quickly in the crisp weather.

She had turned to the students, shouting orders that were obeyed in an instant. Dozens of students years beneath her flew in fright...

Despair shook her, penetrating her very marrow, and the kinder thoughts of her brighter days fled.
Crystals formed in the condensing air, clinging to the muddied grass prickling annoyingly at her face.

She could not move, she could not turn as the frost formed thickly, numbing her body, quelling her violent shaking, her moans falling silent in the wake of disaster.

Dementors glided by. Any desire to cling to life fled. Joyous feelings she had unknowingly clung to dissipating.

The irony of the 'night' was not lost upon her, for they had all fallen. One by one in the wake of the creatures he had unleashed upon them. Creatures he had once sworn to destroy now allied with him, flocking to him... Mauling the protectors...Killing them.... Eating them....

Turning them...

She had stood with the other prefects, ignoring the protesting shouts of Professors for them to stand back...

In the midst of this hell, her thoughts became oddly clear, turning an angry eye on god himself. For if god were so merciful then why did he remain hidden now? How could he lie in wait, hidden behind the distant, sparsely twinkling lights, of a millennia gone past? Surely the night sky had not been enough to impede his view as the creature stepped from the shadows of Hogsmeade, incanting in a lost language towards the sky.

The sun had disappeared behind the moon, the entire air thickening till it felt like they ran through water and not air. It was only afternoon, yet the shroud of night had fallen. He had called the Eclipse to them....

The dark had permitted him to unleash the creatures of the night before the natural cycle of life would have permitted. It had been their downfall, yet the sounds of the continued fighting near the school rolled on in the distance...

God please be with them, she pleaded silently. Numbly her body rolled, and she vaguely realized that a wolf was poking her, licking her testingly.

The creature had screamed for her to stand aside. She refused. And a wave of his hand had sent the werewolves upon them, the vampires and ghouls still emerging from the shadows...

The crinkling grass indicated the werewolf's departure. She was poor quarry, poor taste in her condition... There were more lively souls to hunt this night.

She cringed painfully, crying out to god in despair. What god could allow such corruption? When god's hand had wrapped around the sun, sculpting the fiery orb of life to perfection, had he known how cruelly he would allow it to be blotted out, right when his children needed it's perfection the most?

The Eclipse had all but damned them.

Alone he had been one person. One damnable creature. Corrupted by the devil himself...

No, that was wrong.

The devil had not corrupted him.

Loss had.

The loss of all those he had once loved, of all he treasured and held close to heart, and the unceasing cries of the weak had weakened his resolve.

She had watched it all, besides him, her small hand wrapped in his own. Until one day he had turned to her, eyes alight with flames she had never before known to dance there.

The final Horcrux had been shattered days earlier.

"For neither can live while the other survives…"

The one in his scar had been shattered, killing Voldemort, and shattering his own soul as well.

But until that moment, when he turned to her with the look of insanity, she had not known.

"Ginny.... I know how to save them." She had cowered, frightened of the madness she saw, terrified of how bloodshot his eyes were turning. "I can keep it all from happening again! I can!"

If only he could live forever, he could enforce peace. The plan had seemed so simple, so brilliant to him. Understandably he had felt like a martyr, giving up his own salvation for the greater good.

She had understood the appeal of it. He had lost so many. There was nothing truly left for him on Earth save for her. Not Ron. Not Hermione. Not his family. None.

Yet he wanted to remain alive. Suicide would be the cowardly way out, so something far more dangerous had taken root in the depths of his broken soul...

A soul once so loving....

He had said he could no longer trust such a cruel god to watch over future generations, and the only peace of mind he could ever have would be to become a god himself.

By the time those words were uttered, his soul had already been split 4 times, and the vampire wounds sunk in.

It was to the same cruel god that he had once spoken of, that she cried out. He could fix things. He could fix the creature. He could return him to who he had been. He had been so loving, yet the fate cast upon him before his very birth had damned him, setting into motion events that would change him into the very thing he hated above all.

There was a new Dark Lord.

Once gentle hands wrapped around her now twitching form, and she felt the prickly grass leave her. A pale finger caressed her face, his breath caressing her neck seductively.

She turned her head, using her last dregs of strength to meet his gaze. The red slits widened slightly, and she remembered the way they had once been...

Like his mothers.

He was speaking raspily, his voice now as marred as his soul, murmuring about how he would not lose her to, about how he would make her understand, and how she would once she was on his side, tasting blood...

He was screaming now... Shaking her weak form violently, drenching her with despair filled cries, demanding to know why she resisted his rule. Didn't she know how much better things would be with him in charge? Didn't she love him still?

It was the talk of insanity. She felt it rolling off his tongue, into her very blood, his fangs breaking her bruised tissue near her throbbing artery.

He was making her a vampire. She had known he would. Just as she had known that no god would allow such a fate to befall either of them, both once good people. Her last sanctuary was being taken from her, and soon her soul would be as unwittingly marred as his had been.

Soon she would be the creature standing besides him.

Harry's words came back to her...

"Perhaps the greatest myth of all, is that of a loving god."

A/N: The opening illustration was borrowed from a public domain site, the links to which can be found via my homepage.

Also, the feelings expressed towards God within this one-shot in no way reflect my own. They are simply meant to reflect the overwhelming sense of loss and abandonment that many individuals succumb to in trying times.

Also, thank you to Steve34 for his encouraging review for this. I truly appreciated it Steve34 and took the advice to heart as one can probably see.

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