Mortal Peril - 20

"Harry mentioned something about finding her in the Owlery," Ron said, paling.

"And Voldemort has wanted to take Harry prisoner for months, now," Ginny said, gasping. Her tenuous grasp on her emotions slipped, and she had to blink the tears from her eyes.

Ron's comforting hand grasped her shoulder, and she clung to it as if it were the only thing keeping her afloat.

"That would explain what Pansy wanted to celebrate," Hermione said, breathing heavily. Ginny could see that she was trying to work it out logically, but her fear was beginning to overwhelm her, as well.

"She wouldn't have done," Draco said, but his face had paled considerably.

"She's trying to save you," Ginny whispered, as two fat teardrops leaked from her eyes and dripped slowly down her cheeks.

"He'll kill her," Draco said, shaking his head. "He'll never let me go – that's not how his operation works."

"If Voldemort has him–" Ginny said before her aquamarine stone flared with burning heat once again. Hissing, Ginny grasped it tightly in her hand, feeling a wave of intense pain, fear and desperation wash over her. The overwhelming sensations dropped her to her knees.

Ginny! Help, me!

She could hear his voice as clearly as if he was standing next to her.

"Ginny! What's wrong?" Hermione gasped, kneeling next to her.

"Harry!" Ginny whimpered.

"What's happening?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"My necklace," Ginny gasped, trying to control the nausea sweeping over her. "It burns."

"The one Harry gave you for Christmas?" Ron asked. "Why does it burn?"

Harry's words about the Merpeople legend that the Aquamarine stones helping lost lovers to find one another suddenly played in her mind. Her eyes met Hermione's, and she knew the older girl was thinking the same thing.

Trying to manage the panic growing inside her that she was now certain wasn't entirely her own, Ginny clasped the warm stone in her hand, shut her eyes and called to Harry in her mind.

*~*~*

The gaping wound on Harry's arm left a trail of blood across the floor as he lunged for Snape. He could hear a low growling behind the fallen stones and knew he only had a moment to spare before an enraged Voldemort would burst into the chamber. He had to get his wand before that happened if he hoped to have any chance at all.

As if knowing what Harry wanted, Snape rolled to the side, reaching for the pocket where Harry's wand was hidden. Harry grabbed Snape's arm and slammed it into the ground before he could grab it. Scrambling, he crawled over Snape's legs, pinning him to the stone floor.

Snape grunted in pain, raising his own wand with his other hand. "Diffindo," he snarled.

A deep slash appeared across Harry's outstretched palm. He ignored it, and finally grasped his wand with his bloody hand. The stone inside his rope bracelet once again seared painfully and before he knew what was happening, brilliant color exploded before his eyes.

Voldemort's howl of rage echoed in his ears as his world began to spin. He had to shut his eyes against the fury of color, and he barely had time to register what had happened before it all faded, and he once again was locked in battle with Snape.

He was dimly aware of the difference in the floor and the absence of the dank, musty smell, but he remained focused on only Snape. They each had a tight grip on Harry's wand and rolled on the floor in a vicious tug-of-war.

"Reducto," Ginny's voice snarled, shocking Harry.

"Expelliarmus," Hermione said.