Ok, so I am completely out of practice with this fanfiction thing. I have not written it since I was about thirteen. But as of recently I have gotten sentimental about Harry Potter-last book who can believe it? So I kind of wanted to start up again, writing fanfiction gives me more satisfaction then journals have the ability to. So here is another attempt-maybe now that I am older my stuff won't be so lame(but then again…)
DISCLAIMER: all characters belong to Miss. Rowling
Sleep was shattered by a screaming; an incessant screaming that did not silence even after Ginny opened her eyes. It took her several seconds to realize where the screams were coming from.
She covered her mouth letting out a hoarse sigh as she did so.
Oh sweet god, when will these nightmares end?
Yet could she really call them 'nightmares.' At first, yes they were terrifying, but recently they had become more… pleasant
She absentmindedly opened her music box; the music soothed her, allowing her thoughts to flow freely.
Yes at first they were nightmares she would have visions of burning bodies, shaved heads, and children screaming for their mothers
But perhaps what had become even more disturbing were the recent more pleasing nightmares.
A dark room, devoid of all light natural and unnatural. A room so dark she lost a sense of her body of her very self. She fell into the darkness safe and protected. Eventually she felt the body of another pressed against hers. It was only then that she came to life, out of the womb, light. She enjoyed the kisses soft but deepening and all the while demanding control. She graciously allowed him anything he wanted. His hands often played with her hair all the while twining and knotting, it made no difference at all to her. His body was cold as ice and his kisses were like the first snowflakes of the winter. There was only one person who kissed like that…
The kisses could only absorb her for so long, make her forget for only a while.
Then she would look up and scream…
The ballerina music continued to play but it no longer soothed her, instead the music seemed to be a haunting melody robbing her of the only self control she had left.
She sat down on her bad and pulled out her diary, oh the irony struck her to the core.
Her mother had given it to her after her second year in Hogwarts; it was one of her most prized possessions. Only she could read what she wrote (important in a household where Fred and George were located). She had started using the journal hoping the nightmares would stop, and what odd nightmares they were too.
Dreams of George falling down the steps, Hermione shaving her head. The odd thing was that when she tried to prevent these things it seemed to make everything worse. Afraid George would fall down the steps she took away his skateboard he took to riding down the banister (little did she know it was magically equipped to prevent such mishaps. She took to ignoring the dreams-feeling they were becoming some sort of self fulfilling prophecy.
They were such odd dreams, but what made them so strange (and she could not tell this to anyone unsure if it made sense even to herself) was that the dreams did not seem to be her own but had the flavor of someone else's mind. She had dreams of motherless children starving in a high up cave, of frightened boys, haunted girls. She began writing them down and at first it seemed to make everything more real.
Last week she had her last 'nightmare.' There was a boy; he could not have been more then five. And there had been his pet mouse Linny. But Linny was stolen and the boy could hear his screams every night. Ginny had begun screaming and then very suddenly she woke up feeling surprised. She did not understand where the feeling came from and it deeply confused her.
After that it has just been a dark room, a boy, and a kiss.
It should have been a welcome change except who the boy was.
Tom Riddle.