It was supposed to have been simple. Relatively speaking, that is.

Turning, she saw a flash of movement from a supposedly dead man. Voldermort had gathered up the last bit of his power to strike a final blow. At her.

Harry would defeat the Dark Wizard again, by the pure spirit of his heart, and the Wizardry world would once again know peace. With Hermione firmly attached to Ron, Harry would get the next best girl. Ginny, the little sister of his best friend and the girl he'd rescued so many times before. And for the longest time, ending up as Harry Potter's girl was all Ginny dreamed of. The path seemed quite clear.

As the deadly bolt arrowed towards her, she heard Harry scream her name. There was a flash of silver and then suddenly she felt something collide with, sending her airborne. Someone shrieked, but she only faintly heard the cry as her world drowned in darkness.

At first, all had gone accordingly. Voldermort had never understood Harry's greatest asset- the ability to inspire love and loyalty in those around him. This time, he did not face Voldermort alone. He and his allies fought through the clumps of henchmen and Death Eaters to face Voldermort himself. Together, they represented the strongest of their generation. Dirty and bedraggled, bleeding in some places, the handful of defiant teenagers faced the strongest Dark Wizard who ever lived. They expected him to take the offensive, but he looked at them and merely laughed, a shrieking sound that stretched their nerves to the breaking point. That was the moment when simplicity went complex.

There was light. And dense shapes moving against the light. Dazed, she blinked a few times, trying to clear the mist from her eyes. Eventually, she was able to recognize Ron's worried face hovering above her. A grin split his face as he realized she was awake. He called for Hermione and then she also appeared, silhouetted against the light. They both started talking to her, but she didn't try to respond. Slowly, she turned her head, inch by painful inch, to look at the next cot. He lay there, still as death, and suddenly, she was moving, frantic to reach his side, ignoring the waves of anguish electrifying every limb of her body. She had to get to him! Ron was trying to hold her down and Hermione was calling for Madame Pomefroy. As she struggled to break free from Ron's surprisingly strong grip, the healer appeared and then her world went dark again.

It had been too easy. They'd outnumbered him five to one, but it still should have been an even fight. Voldermort had years of experience and no conscience. It should have been a life or death battle. But it hadn't been. As Voldermort stood there laughing, they'd only been taken aback for a moment. Then they'd leapt into action, executing the plan they'd crafted. Hermione had been researching for years and they all memorized the most archaic, strongest spells she could find. She was the defense, in charge of the spells to protect the group. Harry would engage Voldermort directly, Ron would cover Harry, and Ginny was the healer, aiding when needed, distracting Voldermort when she wasn't. And as for him, well, it had ended up that he would protect her. The years had mellowed their antipathy some, but it still had been a shock when he chose to fight on their side. He betrayed everything he knew, everything he'd been brought up to be, all to help defeat Voldermort. When the time came, they chanted their spells, waved their wands, and Voldermort obligingly crumpled to the ground. Too easy. They'd forgotten, you see, about the unicorn's blood.