Author: Center of Stone
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ginny Weasley/Tom M. Riddle (Diary)
Written for Aari-chan's challenge on Gaia Online. I do not own the characters/places.
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Feels like, I'm standing in a timeless dream
Jaw clench shut, bruised and gaunt; she stares blankly, not meeting wizened eyes devoid of light.
Memories in this world are precious things. You hold them near and dear. Some you hold secret and so close to your heart that, at times, the difference between them dies. Others you sacrifice and let slip through your fingers like sand because, no matter how important, there are those more so.
Magic, they whisper to the freaks, the ones who come unexpected and unannounced, magic is a great thing! So many things can be done! Why, young miss, you can tie your shoes without touching lace! You can turn your parents into a toad without distaste! You can make potions to end all your pains!
It goes to show you that they never tell you about all the other things you can do. Never talk about how you can starve a city or burn a town without making a sound. Never tell about the spells that can command your body or shred your soul. Never whisper of the ones who can steal your memories with but a glance.
Or of the ones who wash them all away with a flick and a swish.
Feels like, I'm standing in a timeless dream
Of light mists, of pale amber rose
"Look at me."
She's too young to be caught up in this, too young for such a web of suffering, corruption, and lies.
Feels like, I'm lost in a deep cloud of heavenly scent
Touching, discovering you
The first time she saw him, felt him, she cried silently. He was so beautiful, a smile (or was it a hidden smirk) upon a face so perfect. He was just as she thought he'd be, fitting an image formed from girly fantasy.
She'd run that time, fearing for her reason, but not for her heart, long since stolen by sly words and talented touch. He hadn't followed, knowing that she'd return, confident in such.
Hogwarts hadn't been the paradise her brother's legends harkened it to be. There were places in the old castle that none had been in hundreds of years, darkness in the walls that taunted her sleep. Magic, both of harmless and less so, hidden and seen, weaved its way through the halls and had so for years. Ghosts, unsettled in final death, watched the living, unhappy in life.
However, she was kept from misery, from loneliness by him.
Those days, of warm rains come rushing back to me
Miles of windless, summer night air
The first time she spoke out loud to him, he'd frozen. They'd been walking towards their secret area, almost hand in hand, but not quite, when she managed the courage. She'd been carrying a parcel of books she'd checked out of the library for him, of subjects her mind would never absorb. Between books on runes and magic of darker intent, a thin book proclaimed Apprendre le français.
Gesturing to the book, she whispered, "Will you speak to me?"
With a dark smile and a finger on his lips, he shook his head, a halo of darkening hair swaying softly. Not here, she knew.
Secret moments, shared in the heat of the afternoon
Out of the stillness, soft spoken words
Later that night, when she was curled on the cold bench in their secret spot, listening to him shift and flip through books, he paused for a moment. A brush of his hand, almost as light and cool as a breeze, pushed her hair gently to the side. His whisper, faint and almost too soft to be heard, sent her once again into nightmarish dreams.
"Je vous ai cassé presque, ma petite poupée."
I love you, always forever
Near and far, closer together
"Look at me!"
The anger that voice , so old and familiar, drew her gaze in a moment to wizened eyes and she was caught. Jaw dropping open and hands struggling against those holding them down, fear and hopelessness burning sour in her mouth as she protested.
"Don't! Leave me!"
Without training, no one can feel his brush against their mind, he'd told her. So, as she struggled to free herself from this violation, the old man's face grew more and more solemn. Finally, after her whimpers and cries subsided, and he drew his gaze from her to those behind, her fate was condemned.
"It is as I fear."
Sounds of discomfort echoed behind her as the wizened headmaster looked back at her, broken on this chair.
Everywhere, I will be with you
Every day, I will devour you
"Ginevra, surely you cannot believe that his lies after all of this?"
Lies. He told her no such thing. And so she stated.
That day, not long before the end of all the days, he'd laid her down in their secret place, so dark and forgotten. Weak and tired, she'd gazed up at him and asked what her fate was, what punishment she'd receive in the end. He'd looked at her, form still wavering weakly, nothing more than a fueled memory of a boy long since lost to a fate worse than death. A hand with no more substance than the lightest of breezes, brushed her cheek, a glimmer of pain across his perfect face. Her heart, long since lost to this boy who'd become a lord of darkness, gave yet another pang.
I love you, always forever
A pale tear fell from a face not her own, but never landed as his whisper kept her company for he never would.
"You will give me life."
Now, sitting here in the headmaster's office, parents frozen in fear and horror behind her, she stared at him and wondered why he was so confused.
"Ginny," Her mother said, stunned. "That was You-Know-Who! Oh, what are we going to do!"
"Now, Molly." The headmaster said quickly. "I think it would be best if none of this every was known. In fact, I think it would be best if it never happened."
You've got, the most unbelievable
blue eyes I've ever seen
You've got, me almost melt away
The eyes in front of her now were not those of his, her heart's. No, the wizened eyes, so full of self important knowledge, looked into hers with concentration and raised that trusted wand.
Apparently, Tom wasn't the only one who wanted her to lose herself.
As we lay there, under a blue sky
with pure white stars
Exotic sweetness, a magical time
She'd been conscious during that last moment, before Harry Potter had poisoned her heart. She'd seen Tom's eyes widen in horror and for one moment look back at her. At that second, she'd felt him fully inside, a being wrapped around her mind and heart. With wide eyes, she'd cried silently as she felt a soft brush, tender against her forehead, a kiss to the girl who'd given him her life, before the diary died. With a broken heart, she waited. Magic didn't seem so great.
"Obliviate."
Say you'll love, love me forever
Never stop, not for whatever
Near and far and always and
everywhere and everything
Translation: I've almost broken you, little doll
R&R