Ginny sees the signs now, sees the writing on the wall. It doesn't take messages written in chicken blood for her to realise the futility of her actions. How could she have expected Harry to save her from something that had already come to pass? How could she have expected him to save her from her destiny? She realises now that her destiny is inescapable.
She remembers the nightmares of her childhood. Nightmares of inky darkness and dampness and the taste of fear. Of being chased, of falling, of falling. Dreams of snakes and crowns and thrones and gowns, and subjects in black who bow down before her and call her a Lady, their Queen. Dreams of a handsome Lord, nightmares of a ruthless King who takes what he wants and wants what he sees. Dreams of running and running and falling.
Ginny knows they think she has forgotten, when they think of it at all. They pushed aside all thoughts of her experience, happy to have her back complete and whole. But she wasn't whole anymore, she was half. She lied when they asked her if she was ok, if everything was fine. She told them she couldn't remember her evil actions, her dark magic spells, his words, his promises, his touch. She didn't show them the marks he left on her body, pale, twisted, puckered scars in the shape of serpents in her private places. She didn't tell them of mingled blood and promises, of the secrets of his soul, exchanged in the dark for the secrets of her own.
She dreams now of dark ink and old parchment. Of powerful words and dark magic. Of shameful secrets whispered in innocent ears. Of hard kisses and soft touches. Of serpent-shaped scars in secret places. Of promised glory and power. Dark dreams of words come to life, wrapping around her, smothering her. Of torrents of ink flooding, drenching her hair, seeping into her skin, marking her soul. She dreams of dark hair and of pale skin and of green eyes, and she knows its not Harry she dreams of, it's never Harry she dreams of.
Ginny knows she scares them sometimes, with her actions, her words, her temper. She knows she must bide her time, wait for her time, for their time. She knows that time is near now, she feels it creeping under he skin. And so she goes through the motions of her life, chores and studies and Quidditch and DA training, and again she lies to everyone that everything is ok, everything is fine.
But late at night, in her dreams, she prepares herself for the day she knows is coming, when he will come again to fulfil his promises, when she will be Ginny no more. She knows that day will come soon, when he will arrive again to claim her, to crown her his Ginevra, his Dark Lady. And she will be ready for that day.