Stained with Ink


Snake carvings were everywhere. In the middle of the chamber was a huge statue of Salazar Slytherin, complete with Tom in front of it. Ginny took small steps towards him, looking around. He just stood very still, his eyes fixed on her, waiting.

"Tom? What's going on? Where are we?" she asked fiercely when she reached him. Tom moved towards her.

"Oh this?" he asked simply, gesturing around. At her nod, he continued. "Well, this is my world." He took another step near to her. " I'm sure we can find something to do little Gin." Ginny then realized what he planned to do with her.

She started screaming but was silenced by Tom covering her mouth with his and practically forcing his tongue down her throat. Ginny tried to back away, but ended up with her back against the wall and his arms blocking her escape. Tom merely smirked and chuckled at her antics.

"See, Gin," Tom started to say as he stood against her with his lips right next to her ear. "I don't want to kill you. Au Contraire. I want you very much alive. I need you princess. Why do you think it was you who got the diary? That wasn't an accident and you know I don't go befriending all the Gryffindors and elves and happy little unicorns. I'm not all peaches and cream." Ginny shuddered when he moved even closer, placing his finger on her chin, turning her so they were eye to eye. "And you know that well. You do have a future with me princess, and a definite one at that. Whether you want to or not. So princess, why don't you help me now." He brushed his fingers through the lock of hair dangling by her mouth. "Guess what princess… you're mine." Ginny shuddered again and tried to push away his hand. He laughed, grabbed her shoulders, and ensnared her in a dangerous kiss- the kind of kiss parents warn their daughters against. When he let her go, she burst free of his grasp and ran forward blindly.

Hot tears burnt a path down her cheeks as she stumbled forward. Tom just stood leaning against the wall staring at his hand like he had snatched at something just beyond his reach. When she looked back at him, she paused. She wasn't being chased. Tom then jerked to attention and noticed her, not a hundred feet away, barely even fifty, just watching him. His eyes widened and his hands shook a bit in anger and he started to walk towards her taking painfully long, slow strides, Ginny backed up when he began advancing but took one too many steps without noticing where she was headed.

With a splash and a thud, Ginny landed two feet down with only her knees, top of her uniform skirt, and her face out of the water. Tom casually peered over the side of the walkway and cocked his head sideways to gaze at her. Sighing, he flicked her wand and held up the long brown trench coat he summoned from the bedroom. Ginny whimpered a little as he picked her up and wrapped her in it.

Her uniform was soaked so she tightened the coat around her. Tom laid her down in front of the statue like a primitive sacrifice to a god and straddled her waist. There was no way to get away from him now. "Gin, I really don't want to do this. But you just can't cheat fate or escape destiny," he said, diverting his eyes to the base of the statue. Ginny then grabbed his shoulders and forced him to look at her. An eleven-year-old girl was no match for a sixteen-year-old boy. Tom may be a memory but he had absorbed enough of her magic that he was almost completely human again. He was almost free of the diary. Normally he would have just overpowered her and walked away, but something was troubling him. He allowed himself to be forced to do something.

"W…what do you have to do?" she asked the question fearfully, stuttering slightly. He looked down at this innocent girl on the floor. What was he doing? He stroked her face for a second and was about to get off of her, smiling for a split second. Thenhis hands tightened and his face was set into a frown. No. He had to do it. He had to. Had to.Facing her again, he took both of her hands and pinned them together above her head.

"Tom...please…don't." He just stared at her with his cold dark eyes.

Tom reached back with one hand, keeping the other hand firmly onto her own, and started to hike up her long, damp uniform skirt. Her eyes went as wide as apples and she started to struggle, but Tom's hand remained firm. "Tom, please! Stop. Let go of me! Stop it! Please." Tom rolled his eyes at her plea andslipped his hand from her skirt to the back of her neck.Eyes closed, Ginny heard a click and when she opened them, she saw what Tom had done. He had unclasped her gold necklace, a gift from her father at her fifth brthday party. "Not my necklace... please. Not my necklace..."

Tom ignored her and wound the chain so it bound her two hands together. Whenever she struggled, it bit down into her skin. He sharply inhaled and used the same hand he had used to hike up her skirt and bind her to part his nearly solid Slytherin robe. Ginny sniveled, trying to keep the tears off her face while she began to kick and shove.

Merrily snickering that she was still trying to fight, Tom thought, You go right on ahead and fight it my princess. Sooner or later, you'll give in. Oh yes you'll give in. "Tom..." Ginny arched her back so her face was closer to his. He seemed to notice this. " Tom, I am begging you to stop." She seemed very distraught when she voiced this last thought so she whispered her continuation. "You have made me resort to begging, Tom. You know how much you dislike your princess begging, and I know it too. Look what you've done to me. Look what you're doing." Tom froze at her words. They were the truth. Begging and pleading was far under his princess. She was above all of it.

No! A thought deep in Tom's mind yelled. Stop it! She knew what she was getting into from the very start. Don't let her persuade you! Punish her! Punish her! Tom nodded and smirked at Ginny. Ginny saw she wasn't going to win this and whimpered, letting a single tear fall down her cheek. Tom gazed at her, as she looked away, her eyes sequenced up so to soften the pain she was sure she'd feel. Then she felt the mind blowing pain and shrieked out loud in agony. Tears openly fell onto the floor and he continued.

"Tom…stop! You're…you're hurting me Tom! Ow! Stop it please! Please!"


"Tom…stop! You're…you're hurting me Tom! Ow! Stop it please! Please!" Ginny thrashed about her bed. Her roommates were huddled together on the bed next to hers watching in horror. They had no idea what to do. None of them had ever been through something like this. Molly was being even less help than she would if she wasn't there. She was gasping and fighting off her own demons as she watched her friend. One of the eldest of the group, Blaine, left the rest of them, hesitantly and walked to Ginny's side.

"Ginny…" she whispered quite calmly prodding her in the side. Then more urgent, "Ginny." Then she ended up almost begging. "Ginny, please wake up!" But she didn't wake and they all had to watch her suffer and scream about. Wendi was silently crying, burrowing her head into Vanessa's arms. She murmured:

"God, please let her wake up. Wake her up. Oh God, oh God, oh God." Blaine shifted her eyes from side to side trying to find something, anything that would wake her up. The trunk… She rampaged through her trunk for something that would make a lot of noise. All of a sudden she spotted a truly hideoustorous pink vase with yellow lettering saying: You are your Father's special girl, that her stepfather had given her last Christmas.

Why she brought it to Hogwarts, she would never know. With a smirk, she called Molly, Wendi, and Vanessa over and together they were able to heave it up to where it crashed inches above Ginny's head.

Ginny jerked up with the covers, drenched with sweat, covering her from her nose down. Her hands were still together as they were when they were bound and she slowly brought them to her lap. Seeing her roommates stare at her so, she bit her lip and moved her gaze down to her hands. Vanessa and Molly exchanged glances as she let out a small screech. Her wrists were rubbed raw in the exact places where the rope had bound her but the her necklace was back in its proper place around her neck.

No one wanted to break the silence. All that could be heard was the rather deep and intense breathing of Ginny. The minute of complete quiet lasted like hours with everyone staring into Ginny's hurt eyes. Then she just covered her head with her arms and began to cry. "Oh, Ginny," Nessa whispered, putting her arm around her shoulders. "Ginny, shh, it's okay."

Wendi got up and knelt in front of Ginny, taking her hand and speaking in a low whisper said, "You were in pain. You were screaming bloody murder and crying. What happened?" All the room quieted to hear her answer. What had happened? Her lip quivered as she though of what to tell them. Blaine didn't even wait for her answer.

"Who's Tom?" Ginny froze. The words echoed around in her brain. How did they know? The diary? Maybe they found it. Maybe they figured how to work it. Maybe he told them everything. No! He said he would never tell her secrets. "Ginny? Who is Tom?" She gulped and spoke the first words since she had awoken.

"What do you mean? Tom? I don't know how he got into this conversation." Blaine scoffed and looked in the bewilderment at the other girls. She had to know what was going on. Nessa clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth like she did when she was thinking. She always had an answer. Whether it was right or not was a different story.

"Well, it's rather easy for someone to enter a conversation when the person you're talking to was screaming and begging the person in question to stop." Ginny visibly paled three shades lighter. She worried that soon she'd become so fair she'd disappear.

She had begged in her dream, but out loud? Begging? Pleading? Groveling? What had happened? "B-b-begging? What do you mean begging?" she asked in astonishment. Then half to herself, half to the others, she murmured, "What did I say?" Vanessa clicked her tongue again and nudged Wendi. They both turned away and conversed quietly, as if comparing notes. After about a minute, they both turned back to Ginny. Wendi was fiddling with a thread on the side of her nightgown, but Nessa told her to start and get it over with. Unwillingly, she started.

"Tom…please…don't."

"Tom, please! Stop. Let go of me! Stop it! Please."

"Tom. Tom, I am begging you to stop!"

"Tom…stop! You're…you're hurting me Tom! Ow! Stop it please! Please!" Wendi paused, seeming to remember something else but not being able to recall it. "You whispered something else that we couldn't hear."

Vanessa looked at her shoes as they finished, almost ashamed at seeing the look on her face. Ginny was gaping, mouth open and all, at them. All the girls had a fair idea, but they all wished to know for sure what Tom had done to her. Molly had been silent all night, and had only participated in throwing the vase to wake Ginny up. She looked around and pieced together what they were wondering, sobbing at the thought. Ginny, hearing the muffled sound, looked over at Molly, and was surprised to feel a seer's vibe come from her.

"He was trying or maybe did do "grown-up-things" with her, like the boy did to me." She said at last in her light Irish accent, able to get the information from the eye contact Ginny had unknowingly given her. All heads turned to the otherwise unnoticed little girl sitting with her legs folded on her bed. Molly was a small eleven-year-old with azure eyes, but they were dulled like those of an old soldier's. There was no innocence left in them anymore. A child with her soul colored as her innocence was stolen away and melted like the sun on snow, where you can still see white frost, but mainly you see the grass. This was how Molly was.

Ginny pushed off Nessa's arm and walked over to Molly's bed. She put her own arm over the small girl and gave her the grin that had convinced all her brothers she was fine. "Well, is it true?" Ginny could feel a prodding in her mind and saw the purple lights come from Molly's eyes. Ginny didn't like this idea of people looking into her thoughts, seeing everything that she kept secret. Get out of there, Molly. She shook her head and Molly smiled widely in relief. As she did this, two tears that were on the verge of falling for some time dripped down. "That's good. We should talk to Professor McGonagall though, if the dreams ever come again. They could be premonitions." Ginny fumed at her accusation. Molly was saying Tom would do what he did to her! She had been only trying to help, but Ginny couldn't believe she'd actually say that!

"What do you mean?" she laughed somewhat nervously, eagerly picking up insults to throw back in Molly's face. "And just who do you think you are, Miss O'Roark! Tom would never do anything near that bad to me in real life. NEVER! And who are you to talk? From what I've heard, you've done some of those "grown-up-things" that make you not so innocent. What's the matter, Molly? Tired of being a kid? Wanted to grow up just a bit faster?" Ginny baby cooed to Molly. Molly's eyes widened and her breath began to come in short, sharp gasps. That's when Ginny realized what she had done. "Oh, God, Molly, I am so sorry. I didn't mean it, I really didn't. But you were just going on about Tom and I got so angry. You should have learned to pick your timing better! Its just now is not the time to accuse him. Please forgive me Molly. I am so-" Molly jumped up and raced through her roommates to the toilet where she was sick to her stomach. Ginny was ashamed as she whispered, "Sorry."

Blaine and Wendi looked at Molly, their faces full of astonishment. Molly had had "attacks" of some sort for as long as they had known her. They came from the memories and the feelings afterward of what the boy did to her. The two of them then looked at each other and finally at Ginny. Ginny avoided their gaze. She could feel the disappointment exenterating from their gaze. They had no warm feeling towards her and hoped she realized how low she had stooped to make Molly have an attack. Just by their looks and feelings, the room dropped twelve degrees. That's the wonders of magic. Ginny shuffled her feet and bravely looked up to match their stare. They just watched each other before Wendi looked away, Blaine following suite.

"What's going on here?" Professor McGonagall demanded as she stood in the doorway of their dorm. She was wearing an ankle-length white flannel nightgown with only one pocket, right on her chest. The neckline of the nightgown was like a turtleneck. Her hair was, for the first time any of the girls had seen it, hanging messily down to the square of her back. She had been awakened, by screaming and yelling and then to top that off, running. She had come to quiet the troublemakers, maybe give them a month's detention for disturbing the peace, but was shocked to find that the noise was coming from the first year Gryffindors. She was expecting at least the Fourth-Years, having yet another party just to symbolize their extension on curfew for being in the older half of school. She noticed Blaine, Wendi, and Vanessa staring wide-eyed at something behind her back. She slowly turned and saw Ginny looking sideways regretfully into the bathroom. Turning yet again, feeling slightly dizzy, she spotted Molly sick in the bathroom.

She quickly rushed to the bathroom, taking a bluish-purplish bottle filled with liquid from the pocket on her chest. She apparently thought the scream that had awoken her was Molly's. "Molly, darling, it's me, Professor McGonagall. Did you have the Dream again? Are you all right? Would you like something? Your…" she looked around and Wendi hurriedly handed her Molly's stuffed walrus. "Your walrus? Or do you want me to take you to the nurse? Maybe you want your potion. I have it right here with me, dear. Do you want it?" McGonagall kept listing things to make Molly feel better, not noticing or paying attention to Molly's persistent trying to interrupt her. She swallowed and leant back against the wall. McGonagall stopped then to ask her a question: "Well, what do you want?" Molly sighed and put her hand over McGonagall's mouth. Finally she was able to speak.

"Not…me," she stated clearly, still at a slight lack of breath. "It wasn't me, Professor." McGonagall took a step back in shock. She was certain it had been Molly. Molly was the only one who would have these sorts of dreams, and why would anyone else scream. Her parents had had a long meeting with her, as Molly's head of house, before term started. She knew to expect these dreams some nights, but now she claimed it wasn't her? Confused, McGonagall looked to all the girls in the room and then back to Molly. "It was Ginny. We had a fight afterward, but you shouldn't punish her. Even I lose my temper after the Dream. But it was Ginny." Molly pulled McGonagall down and whispered to her. "You should try to figure out what happened. We were so scared. Ginny is one of my best friends. I don't want her to have to go through what I do. Help her, please Professor." A spot on the ceiling currently fascinated Ginny. Then louder Molly spoke to McGonagall. "She had horrible dreams about a boy named Tom." Ginny's eyes began to water as she heard his name but refused to cry.

McGonagall took a few steps out of the bathroom to Ginny. Wendi, Vanessa, and Blaine all took steps back and sat on Molly's bed, watching with interest what was going to happen. With the clear path to her, McGonagall stood prim and proper and looked at Ginny reproachfully. "Miss Weasley," she said like a teacher catching a student in their class passing notes. It was a tone of voice that told them to meet after class in her office. She took a few more steps nearer to her. "Miss Weasley…" she said impatiently, drumming her fingers on her arm while she waited. Ginny caught the hint and stood to follow her out the door her eyes fearfully jotting to her roommates watching on the bed.

McGonagall walked just outside the door and a few paces to the right when Ginny followed her and when she came out, she barely had a warning before the door shut tightly, leaving her alone in the tower halls with McGonagall. "Miss Weasley, may I ask a question?" Ginny stared down at her feet blocking out all the noise so she could heard that annoying ringing sound in her ear. McGonagall's lips grew tighter and she repeated. "Miss Weasley. May I ask a question?" Ginny looked up rapidly. She was fairly annoyed, having no thought that a small dream was worth all this extra trouble. She needed caffeine or sleep. Either one worked.

"I believe you just did." McGonagall frowned. Ginny was being difficult, McGonagall thought to herself. Someone needed to knock into her some manners or some respect. Ginny just smiled and blinked innocently. Bah! Innocent like a devil child was with that smirk.

"Who is Tom, Miss Weasley?" Ginny again did not answer, her pupils changing so she could focus on the sight of her fingers shaking. "Miss Weasley, answer me!" She took some deep breaths to buy her time as she collected her thoughts and leaned against the wall. McGonagall obviously thought she was not going to answer at all. "Miss Weasley! Now, I know you can hear me. So answer me this: Who the bloody blazes is Tom?" Ginny's eyes crinkled in amusement. More like, Riddle me this! Ginny cracked up at her own joke and McGonagall angered and crossed her arms, showing her restraint for hitting the child in front of her.

"I don't have to answer you," Ginny said, noting the professor's change in posture.
"You can't and don't control what I tell you until class. You have no say in what I think. And even if you ask me about Tom in class, your questions are limited." McGonagall silenced her by grabbing her wrist and yanking it so they were brought closer to each other. Ginny pulled away her stinging wrist and looked at the floor. She didn't know what she would be able to tell from looking in her eyes. "Isn't that true, Professor?"

"Miss Weasley! Do not disrespect me and think you can get away with it. Answer me. Who is Tom? Why do you have dreams about him that make you scream? I'm doing this for your well-being, Miss Weasley. I'm not trying to be cruel, or to punish you. So please, just answer me." Ginny thought about the diary. If she told the truth, it would be taken away for sure. And what was truth? Nothing but what someone thinks is true. Ginny obviously couldn't tell her that a Slytherin sixth year that she had never seen in the halls or met was talking to her from within a diary and she had dreams about him- was it raping? - her in a dark stone chamber filled with carvings of snakes and a huge statue of Salazar Slytherin. No, that made him sound evil. But she couldn't just make up a whole bunch of lies. So, she would have to bend the truth a little bit.

"Tom's my friend. I met him at the ice cream shop in Diagon Alley. He wouldn't hurt me. He would never hurt me. He needs me." McGonagall scoffed at her being so naïve. But Ginny couldn't help it. She was naïve, having never lied, or stolen, or cursed. She didn't even understand half the things her brothers joked about when Mum was out of earshot. She was just a child. A child barely drawn from her mother's apron strings having no idea what the outside world would have in store…

"Virginia," came the exasperated sigh. Ginny knew she was in something serious at the use of her first full name. "Virginia, this is a serious matter. I need to know." Ginny looked up fearfully at her with wide eyes. Bambi eyes. Innocent eyes. "I know you say he wouldn't, but did he? Did this "Tom" ever hurt you in any way? Any way?" Ginny seriously doubted he did, but to be sure, she racked her memory. No. No memory, no recollection, or record or even the slightest glimpse of any kind of hurt cause by Tom. He was so sweet to her always and he listened. He actually listened to what she had to say. No one ever had done that to her before. Tom made her feel special. This dream, that dream that made her want to slit her wrists in the bathroom so she wouldn't fall asleep ever again and have to live through it over and over, was a new kind of dream; A one-of-a-kind dream. Tom would never do that to her. She hadn't even actually seen him and already they knew each other's innermost secrets. Well, Tom knew more of hers than she did of his, but it was still frightening.

"He never touched me," Ginny stated, wiping her eyes. How true that was. McGonagall looked very certain she was telling the truth; it was the same look she gave to Ron every time he claimed Scabbers ate his homework.

They stood in silence for a minute each one thinking the other would soon talk. "Well," McGonagall started, making Ginny jump slightly. After all the raging silence she had heard tonight, it was hard still to hear talking. "If this is all we have to say, I think I should go bring Molly down to the nurse. Albus would never forgive me if I didn't. Now, I think it's time for you to go to sleep. It's been a rough night for you, I'm sure." She went inside the room, had quiet conversations with the other girls, no doubt telling them how to act around her, and came out with Molly wrapped up in her arms. Molly looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with Ginny. While McGonagall still walked forward, they both stayed still until Ginny broke off eye contact, staring ashamed at the floor.

Long after they left, Ginny was still in the hallway. She didn't feel ready to face her roommates. She would wait until they all fell asleep, then she would go in. Suddenly, she felt a throbbing sensation begin in her temple. She groaned and tried to massage it out, but it seemed to only get worse. The sensation was most bizarre, so odd, that Ginny stopped to listen- to try and understand it. The sensation was beginning to sound rather like a hiss.

"Ginny!" Ginny turned her head to see who it was. Blaine. She poked her head out the door and looked most bizarrely at Ginny, "C'mon, let's not wait forever. We happen to have tests in the morning. Now, go to sleep and please," she broke off, unsure if she wanted to bring it up again. "Please… tread carefully about your dreams. Molly could be right. They could be messages. Don't ignore them. Don't dream." Ginny trudged slowly into the room behind her, feeling her roommate's eyes on her. She reached her bed and fell with a plop. Now all she had to do was wait for them to fall asleep. Now I lay me down to sleep.

Tiptoes that were meant to be silent, shuffled across the bare floor. Nessa peeked through Ginny's curtains before climbing onto her bed. "Hey Ginny. I just wanted to make sure you were okay…after all that happened." Vanessa rocked nervously on her legs as she sat. It made her look very small, even for an eleven-year-old. Her toffee colored hair hung in loose waves down to her waist and her nightgown was pinkish after being washed so many times with her red jumper. Nessa was the typical, good little girl who you imagine first years at a boarding school being like. Ginny smiled partly, glad someone sounded concerned about her, the runt in a litter of boys. She opened her mouth to speak but ended up crunched over, a cough consuming her. Nessa nervously patted her back until she stopped and was able to sit up straight again.

"I'm fine, Nessa." Nessa raised one eyebrow at her causing Ginny to sigh. "I know it doesn't look, or sound like it, but really, I am. Why don't you go on to sleep now? Go on. Blaine was right, you do have tests early on tomorrow, and I wouldn't want you to fail because I kept you up." Nessa still looked unconvinced so she just sat there and kept rubbing Ginny's back. "Nessa, I'm fine. It's okay now. Everything's all right. Now go to sleep. Please." Finally, she seemed to agree that everything was all right. She jumped off the bed and started to amble over to her own. Ginny breathed a sigh a relief when she heard the soft creaks of the bedsprings and waited until she was sure she heard Nessa's curtains close.

She reached down and searched under her bed, having to stumble about for she was without light to see where anything was. Once she felt her book bag's course material, she grabbed at the potion that was lying at the very top of all her supplies, waiting just for her. The potion was bluish-purplish liquid that set off a glow, making the entire bottle the same color. It was the same potion McGonagall had, having been taken directly from her hand while she had been busy with Molly. It was Dreamless Sleep. Ginny downed the entire bottle, hoping she had taken enough to put her to sleep as there was only a small bit left. There was enough left for one serving. It was just like the fates had decided to give her this bottle. Bless them.

As the symptoms of the potion reached her bloodstream, Ginny felt immediately exhausted. It had been a long night and she was glad to be able to sleep again now, but also she felt an immense fear. What if the potion didn't work? What if as soon as she fell into a sleep deep enough for dreams, deep enough for the subconscious to take control, she saw that hideous place filled with snakes and Tom? She couldn't bear it. This Tom was different than hers. Her Tom wouldn't do something like that, or even talk to her about something like that. This Tom was scary, was new, like he was possessed. Ginny shook the thought from her resting head. Suddenly, she remembered something. Tom had warned her weeks ago before she had even boarded the train to school that if she ever dreamt about him, she was to tell him. She hadn't understood why, but promised to anyway. Where was the diary though?

She pulled off her covers and the sheets from her pillow, seeking her diary before she looked down and saw it in her lap. She most definitely had not put it there. After she had spoken with him last night before she had gone to bed, she had put it where she always did, underneath her pillow where if she was upset, he was only a millisecond away. With a shake of her head, Ginny tried to forget about all these things when the potion could take full effect any minute. That was the problem with Dreamless Sleep. You never knew when it would take effect. Her hands held her quill steady a centimeter above the page before choosing her words. With a slight smile, she leant down and etched the words hurriedly in messy handwriting.


Dear Tom,


Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. And her roommate's names are borrowed from people I know. All I own is the placement of words and the plot- well, kind of.

Author's notes: This is in revision. One of the roommates was written out and replaced by Molly. I haven't gotten to any chapters besides this one to re-write it. So, if you see anyone talking about Snape's daughter (don't ask) or an American girl named Tirza, pretend it's Molly. That's why this is a work-in-progress and not a finished story, right?