A/N: Yes, I'm back from being MIA from the world of fics! This is my first try at a war fic, so
I don't know how it will turn out. I might try a longer one later, but I'll just try my hand at
the short ones first…

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and copyrighted situations are the property of JK Rowling
and Warner Brothers. I'm just borrowing them for a little bit ;)



The moon shone brightly outside the high window of Malfoy Manor. It's light filtered into a
bedroom, illuminating a large bed strewn with black satin sheets. Two figures lay in it: One a
blonde man, about thirty, and the other a small redheaded woman, a year younger than him. The
continuous tossing and turning of the woman interrupted the normally serene atmosphere. She
kicked out against an unseen adversary, her face contorted in an expression of pain.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The high-pitched screams of children could be heard all throughout the city of Liverpool. Thick,
black smoke billowed through the air, creating great clouds to warn of the evil present. Flames
danced in the coming dusk, create deadly red walls, swallowing buildings whole, as if it were
some kind of terrible monster. Muggles and wizards alike ran through the rubble of the fallen
city, some fighting, others just trying to run away.

Sgt. Virginia Weasley of the 22nd Regiment of the Order of the Phoenix was holding down a
temporary casualty center in the basement of an abandoned record store. All around her were the
dying and wounded soldiers of the Regal Rangers Armed Forces, dryly nicknamed the Last Hope by a
few. Healers rushed to the aids of the soldiers, healing whoever was nearest, regardless of
rank.

Ginny shuddered slightly at the site of such carnage. Witches and wizards were in various stages
of death, some not near at all, others all ready beyond the help of mere mortal hands. These were
her troops, her responsibility. And half of them were wounded severely. Her gaze traveled over
the room, stopping momentarily at one bed. On it rested a witch - well, half of a witch. Her legs
had been blown off in a nasty series of explosion spells directed at her corner of the perimeter
. Her thick black hair had instantly betrayed who she was: Laura Kinglsey, Ginny's friend from
Hogwarts, currently another Sgt. Her eyes were clenched shut, but the rise and fall of her chest
indicated that she was still breathing. They couldn't help her yet; They didn't have the supplies
They had to wait until they got more healers and the proper equipment before they could, with
luck, restore to almost her original self. But for the moment, she was useless. She was stuck,
waiting for the relief squads.

Yes, they were waiting for the relief squads, which had yet to come. Sgt. Weasley checked her
wristwatch. She swore under her breath.

'Damn it to Hell! They were supposed to be here ten minutes ago!' She glanced up at their meager
defenses. Two wizards stationed at the bottom of the cement stairs. Three halfway up, and two
more at the entrance, which was barred and locked, with only a small peephole to look out of. It
was quiet now, for Voldemort's forces were rumored to have pushed to the west, keeping them out
of the hot zone.

The button at the edge of Ginny's arm cuff blinked once. The buttons were special communication
devices, charmed to allow the Regal Rangers to communicate with one another. It was invented by
Specialists Fred and George Weasley, whose inventive skills obviously exceeded the field of
practical jokes. Ginny put the button up to her ear.

"Red Hawk 52, come in. I repeat, Red Hawk 52, are you there?" A voice crackled. She recognized
it as Gen. Zartiff, head of the Regal Rangers Armed Forces healing squads.

"This is Red Hawk 52, I can hear you."

"Situation report?"

"Improvised casualty recovery station, on 55th and Edgerton St, in the basement of Powerhouse
Records. We have two dead, fifteen wounded, three critical, and ten unharmed. Where the Hell are
our Relief Squads?" Sgt. Weasley's voice was terse and emotionless, just they way she was
trained. There was no room for emotions in battle; She could cry on her bunk when she had the
time.

"Ambush on Sector 13-A, they had to recourse."

"Well when will they be here? I've got good men dying!"

"Approximate arrival time is two minutes."

"Affirmative. Just get the bastards here. Red Hawk 52 out."

"Roger that. Big Momma 12 out."

Ginny dropped her hand, and commenced to pace around the room. "Two minutes, ladies and gents,"
she said, addressing her soldiers. "Then we can all go home."

She looked to where the guards were stationed. "Pvt. Creevey, Pvt. Boot, take a break.
Brandonberg, Zabini, take over."

The recruits nodded, and did as they were told. Ginny sighed, and looked at her watch again. One
minute and fifteen seconds until the Relief Squads were scheduled to arrive. Too long.

Drawing her wand, she walked up the stairs to the door, waving the soldiers out of her way. She
pressed one of her brown eyes against the peephole, checking for intruders.

It was still, for a moment, but then a bit of movement caught the corner of her eye. She leaned
to the side, and was able to perceive a figure among the rubble, moving silently, dressed in the
black-and-green attire of the Death Eaters. He crouched down, and muttering something, a green
light burst from the end of his wand, heading straight for the door.

"Shit! Back away from the door!" Sgt. Weasley screamed, pushing her troops out of the way.
"Everyone get down!" She had barely managed to make it a fourth of the way down the stairs when
the green light hit.

BAM! The door blasted off its hinges, flying into the room. Dust and ash rose in a cloud, while
the bitter laughs and shouts of Death Eaters were heard. Through the smoke poured the Dark Lord's
forces, wands pulled out, shouting curses left and right. They wouldn't have enough energy to
use the killing curses, but with people as wounded as these witches and wizards were, some of
the least harmful curses could finish them off.

"Expellirmus!" shouted Sgt. Weasley, successfully sending three Death Eater's wands into her
hands. She pocketed them, and shouted orders to her troops.

"Everyone, grab your wands! Shoot to kill! Stun if you're too weak!" She cough, the grit and ash
from the explosion cramming down her throat. She raised her hand and yelled into her button.

"Red Hawk 52! This is Red Hawk 52! Ambush! We've been infiltrated!"

"Roger Red Hawk! A pack of Turtles is coming on the scene. Back-up is approximately a block
away."

"Well they better fucking hurray up!" she shouted, between listening to her orders and blasting
curses at the enemy.

"Stupify!" she said, taking out who appeared to be one of the leaders of the Dark Force's squad.
Making quick calculations in her head, she deduced that they had been attacked by about twenty
Death Eaters. Sure, the Rangers outnumbered them by ten, but two were dead, three were critical,
and the rest of the majority were wounded.

"Ignitio!" boomed a voice, and to Ginny's horror, a ball of flames burst forth by the opposite
wall, next to a collection of wounded. Including Sgt. Kinglsey. Her mouth dropped in horror.
Her troops were being burned alive!

Painful roars sounded, the last echoes these wizards and witches would ever make.

"Aindencio!" shouted Sgt. Weasley, and a few other troops, sending jets of cool water at the
flames, successfully putting them out, and cooling the burns of those still alive. Ginny squinted
through the sick smoke, trying to catch a glimpse of her friend. She gasped in horror.

On the cot that Laura had lay, there was now a half burned body. It moaned, then moved its head
to look into Ginny's eyes. The lips moved.

"We will see the snow fall again," the witch said, then, like a candle being burned out, the life
slipped away from her.

Ginny held back tears. That was the phrase they had made up, long ago, during the carefree
schooldays of Hogwarts. Whenever something bad happened, they would repeat it to themselves, as
if to remind themselves that life would go on. Ginny said it to herself now. "We will see the
snow fall again."

Ginny paused a moment too long. From her right, a voice sounded, and the next thing she knew blue
light was coming at her, throwing her body against a wall, blacking her out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"NOOOOOOO!" Ginny shrieked, and shot up. She was safe, in her bed, lying next to her husband.

Draco Malfoy, being used to his wife's nightmares, gently cradled her in his arms. "It's all
right, shhh, it's ok," he said in soothing tones. "It's over, it's all over,"

Indeed, it was over. Four years had passes since the end of the war, and since Harry Potter had
the final duel with Voldemort, killing not only the Dark Lord but himself in the bargain. People
everywhere were moving on, putting their lives back together. But Ginny still had nightmares. She
still woke up screaming. It didn't matter that she knew what had happened: The relief squads had
arrived just in time, taking out the remaining Death Eaters and saving many of the Royal
Rangers. But not Laura Kinglsey.

Ginny crawled out of Draco's arms, got up, and walked to the window, gently leaving against the
frame. The air outside was cool in the dark December night, and snowflakes drifted gently down
through the atmosphere, dancing to the tune of a song long indented in the sands of time.

"We will see the snow fall again," she whispered, and silently returned to bed.