A/N - Wow... I've looked back on this story, decided I REALLY NEEDED to do something about
how it sounded, and started rewriting it. This is the first fruit of these efforts, and I'll probably
do the first couple of chapters and do minor touchups on the other few. Then new chapters!
Joy! Plus, a very nice *cough* well, I think it's very nice, poem I wrote that works with the story!
^_^ Have fun, and if you've already submitted a review for the first chapter that's signed,
log out and review again! And, even though I shouldn't have to say this, if you haven't reviewed,
it is a must to leave a signed review. Okay... just read now before I start mindlessly blabbering...
wait, too late.
-
the light was soon
the night was late
who could've improved
such an ideal date?
but nothing so great
will last through the night
when suddenly it ends
there exists such a fright
for like in a dream
illusions and what-not
you'll see things you've remembered
and things you've forgot
-
The Forgotten and the Remembered
Chapter One: The Beginning
-
Ginny had been having quite a wonderful day so far, an amazingly pleasant experience for
a Monday. She had watched the close-scoring quidditch match between the competitive
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams with a few of her Ravenclaw friends, not paying much
attention to the game, but havinga good time nonetheless. She had returned to the
Gryffindor dorms early from the large dinner to get some much-needed alone time that
would perfect her day.
She quitely plucked her green pajamas from her old trunk at the foot of her bed decorated
with crimson pillows and changed clothes quickly, leaping onto the cushiony four poster bed
and drawing the thick velvet curtains around it, so to block the vision of anyone that might
come into the room a bit early.
Picking up a used, dirty book that's title was hardly readable, she vaguely reminded herself
that she wasn't exactly supposed to have books of curses- or at least curse as serious as these-
at school. It was a pity she couldn't test the curses on someone, though... perhaps if she got
Harry alone, she could- no, she stopped herself, I'll have to wait for a moment when I can do
something to him without any consequences. Smiling to herself about this, she casually flipped
open the cover, and noticed a small note falling out of the book.
She held it up, very confused, since she'd been the only one using the book, and she definitely
wouldn't have let a friend see it.
The note read:
'Dear Miss Weasley,
One of our... 'mutual friends' has entrusted me with the journal with specific instructions saying
that I give this to you. I trust since you have obtained my friend's faith, you will be able to use
this well.
Sincerely,'
-and then there was a stain that could only be blood. Ginny knew about the many different types
of letter magic, and this was clearly an example of the relatively unused 'oathblood' signature.
Everything in the letter was true, it was impossible to make it otherwise, and inded they had a
'mutual friend'.
She fell back onto her pillow, but felt something hard stuffed in the pillow case. Taking the object
out, she immediately recognized it as the diary from her first year.
The book that had forced her to write her own death message on the wall.
She examined it closely, looking for the places where Harry had stabbed the basilisk fang through
it, but all was intact, and as far as Ginny could tell, there was no evidence of that fateful day in
the chamber...
Ginny still sat, looking at it in wonder. Once, she had dreamt that something like this would happen
and she would have the chance to talk to Tom again... to even the score between them. So,
slowly but steadily, she withdrew her quill and some ink from her bookbag. Pondering how to begin,
she bit the end of the quill and stared at the cover.
"Dear Tom," she said, testing an idea, "This is Ginny, remember? The girl you possessed and tried
to kill. Let's talk."
She giggled at the akwardness of it, then tried to be serious and opened up the worn pages. Dipping
her quill in the ink, she began to write.
*Hello...*
Sinking into the pages, the diary seemed to take the words in quicker that it would normally, hungry
for a connection to the writer.
*Hello*, he wrote quickly. *My name is Tom Riddle. What's yours?*
Ginny bitterly laughed, and scratched at the page again.
*Tom... I'm so hurt- you don't remember your Ginny? It's me,* she wrote, her heart beating loudly
in her chest. There was a moment of hesitation before there was a reply from the archaic book.
*Ginny?* he asked.
She could almost hear his laughter.
*In the flesh,* she etched with emerald ink.
*Why are you coming back to me now?*
*We need to talk, Tom. About a lot of things.*
Soon enough, an answer pushed itself through the pages.
*Don't you hate me? After all I've done to you- made you write your own death message
on the wall in blood- you still wish to talk?*
*Yes, I believe we still have some things to settle between the two fo us.*
*Then, by all means, come in,* he wrote/said, slowly and deliberately.
*Why can't we just write?* she shifted uncomfortably on her bed.
*Dear Ginny,* he said, *I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice on this matter.*
And before she knew it, she was being pulled inside the diary, not completely against her wishes.
---
*the second year thing is fixed, thank you 'A Devilish Angel'!
how it sounded, and started rewriting it. This is the first fruit of these efforts, and I'll probably
do the first couple of chapters and do minor touchups on the other few. Then new chapters!
Joy! Plus, a very nice *cough* well, I think it's very nice, poem I wrote that works with the story!
^_^ Have fun, and if you've already submitted a review for the first chapter that's signed,
log out and review again! And, even though I shouldn't have to say this, if you haven't reviewed,
it is a must to leave a signed review. Okay... just read now before I start mindlessly blabbering...
wait, too late.
-
the light was soon
the night was late
who could've improved
such an ideal date?
but nothing so great
will last through the night
when suddenly it ends
there exists such a fright
for like in a dream
illusions and what-not
you'll see things you've remembered
and things you've forgot
-
The Forgotten and the Remembered
Chapter One: The Beginning
-
Ginny had been having quite a wonderful day so far, an amazingly pleasant experience for
a Monday. She had watched the close-scoring quidditch match between the competitive
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams with a few of her Ravenclaw friends, not paying much
attention to the game, but havinga good time nonetheless. She had returned to the
Gryffindor dorms early from the large dinner to get some much-needed alone time that
would perfect her day.
She quitely plucked her green pajamas from her old trunk at the foot of her bed decorated
with crimson pillows and changed clothes quickly, leaping onto the cushiony four poster bed
and drawing the thick velvet curtains around it, so to block the vision of anyone that might
come into the room a bit early.
Picking up a used, dirty book that's title was hardly readable, she vaguely reminded herself
that she wasn't exactly supposed to have books of curses- or at least curse as serious as these-
at school. It was a pity she couldn't test the curses on someone, though... perhaps if she got
Harry alone, she could- no, she stopped herself, I'll have to wait for a moment when I can do
something to him without any consequences. Smiling to herself about this, she casually flipped
open the cover, and noticed a small note falling out of the book.
She held it up, very confused, since she'd been the only one using the book, and she definitely
wouldn't have let a friend see it.
The note read:
'Dear Miss Weasley,
One of our... 'mutual friends' has entrusted me with the journal with specific instructions saying
that I give this to you. I trust since you have obtained my friend's faith, you will be able to use
this well.
Sincerely,'
-and then there was a stain that could only be blood. Ginny knew about the many different types
of letter magic, and this was clearly an example of the relatively unused 'oathblood' signature.
Everything in the letter was true, it was impossible to make it otherwise, and inded they had a
'mutual friend'.
She fell back onto her pillow, but felt something hard stuffed in the pillow case. Taking the object
out, she immediately recognized it as the diary from her first year.
The book that had forced her to write her own death message on the wall.
She examined it closely, looking for the places where Harry had stabbed the basilisk fang through
it, but all was intact, and as far as Ginny could tell, there was no evidence of that fateful day in
the chamber...
Ginny still sat, looking at it in wonder. Once, she had dreamt that something like this would happen
and she would have the chance to talk to Tom again... to even the score between them. So,
slowly but steadily, she withdrew her quill and some ink from her bookbag. Pondering how to begin,
she bit the end of the quill and stared at the cover.
"Dear Tom," she said, testing an idea, "This is Ginny, remember? The girl you possessed and tried
to kill. Let's talk."
She giggled at the akwardness of it, then tried to be serious and opened up the worn pages. Dipping
her quill in the ink, she began to write.
*Hello...*
Sinking into the pages, the diary seemed to take the words in quicker that it would normally, hungry
for a connection to the writer.
*Hello*, he wrote quickly. *My name is Tom Riddle. What's yours?*
Ginny bitterly laughed, and scratched at the page again.
*Tom... I'm so hurt- you don't remember your Ginny? It's me,* she wrote, her heart beating loudly
in her chest. There was a moment of hesitation before there was a reply from the archaic book.
*Ginny?* he asked.
She could almost hear his laughter.
*In the flesh,* she etched with emerald ink.
*Why are you coming back to me now?*
*We need to talk, Tom. About a lot of things.*
Soon enough, an answer pushed itself through the pages.
*Don't you hate me? After all I've done to you- made you write your own death message
on the wall in blood- you still wish to talk?*
*Yes, I believe we still have some things to settle between the two fo us.*
*Then, by all means, come in,* he wrote/said, slowly and deliberately.
*Why can't we just write?* she shifted uncomfortably on her bed.
*Dear Ginny,* he said, *I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice on this matter.*
And before she knew it, she was being pulled inside the diary, not completely against her wishes.
---
*the second year thing is fixed, thank you 'A Devilish Angel'!