The Battle for the Prophecy The Battle for the Prophecy

Disarmed

She turned to signal the others, and saw that Ginny had spotted it, too.  Looking very pale, the youngest Weasley pushed off as best she could toward the new doorway.  Seeing immediately that she had overshot the door, Luna responded by pushing off very gently toward the place where she thought Ginny would soon be.

Now facing toward the “sun,” Luna saw that the third Death Eater had entered at an unfortunate angle.  He had been heading straight for that brightly-lit sphere, and when he struck it with his full body, even though only momentarily, he screamed in agony.

At that very moment, the fourth Death Eater found himself facing in Ron’s direction and had the presence of mind to cast a hex.  Luna didn’t hear the pronunciation over the other Death Eater’s scream, but a sickly beam of mixed orange and pink struck Ron in the head.  He spun around and caromed10 lightly off Uranus, while his attacker was hurled backward and struck his head against the wall.  As he did, he involuntarily released his wand.

The burned Death Eater’s smoking back was arched in agony, and he was moaning slightly as he slid around and off the sun.  He, too, had dropped his wand.

Bellatrix had pushed off after her own wand, but had aimed badly and was vainly flailing in an attempt to change her direction.

The Idea

As Luna gradually approached Ginny, she quietly said, “Ginny, I have an idea.” 

Ginny looked up at Ron floating above.  He was laughing deliriously, and mumbling something about seeing Uranus.  All the blood seeming to have drained from her face, she finally responded, “What?”

Luna, worried, asked, “What's wrong?”

“My ankle,” replied Ginny, reaching halfway toward it as she pulled her leg upward and then, wincing, aborted that motion. 

Luna felt a sharp pang of guilt.  She wasn’t normally troubled by the mistakes that she made, but then, her mistakes didn’t normally end up maiming people.  “It’s my fault,” she admitted, but Ginny interrupted her apology.

“You’re right, it’s you’re fault that I wasn’t killed by that Death Eater.  It’s just my ankle.  Thanks to you, I’ll be alright.  Now, what’s you’re idea?”

¹⁰ caromed — to strike and rebound (as does a billiard ball)

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