Uncompromising Chapter 1, a harry potter fanfic

Prologue

"We will be avenged. Our people will be avenged. Our power will return in my daughter, the next Lady will rise. Once betrayed, she shall awaken. Twice betrayed, she will avenge. Thrice betrayed, all will fear her and love her as she reigns. The power to save or damn will rest in her hands."

They have said that none of this is my fault. That I simply could not recover from his possession. That his influence never left me. That I am still the little, innocent, Ginny Weasley. They are wrong.

Chapter 1: Just to Clear the Record

I had always been a happy child, a sunshine and daisies type of little girl. Not to say I was particularly girly, anyone growing up with 6 older brothers can't really get by without learning a thing or two about fighting and getting into trouble. Despite my mother's desperate desire for me to be a living doll, I couldn't be in a dress for more than 20 minutes before it was torn and covered in mud. I have always been curious, spending hours with Fred and George testing new ideas and new magic. Life was always limitless because of my magic. It soothed me. It healed me. It comforted me. Even Ron learned to not mess with me when I was in a mood. When I was 4, Ron pushed me down and before I could pick myself back up, Ron was hanging upside down, swinging from his ankle and screaming his head off. It was the second thing that my mother did not like about me. It was not very ladylike to swing boys by their ankles, so despite the fact that it was Ron who pushed me down, I was the one who ended up punished. My Father always said my magic was different because I was the first female Weasley he could ever remember. Then Fred and George always started to chant "Men! Men! Men! Men!" until the whole house dissolved into chaos.

Regardless of any punishment, I would walk to deep into the woods behind the Burrow every day or night. I'd dip my feet into the stream, burry my hands in the rich soil, and draw strength from the sun or the moon, its light flickering through the trees and kissing my cheeks, filling me to the brim with magic, smothering and soft at the same time. I never felt any fear, for no matter what time it was, no matter what animals or magical creatures were out to play, none would harm me. My magic protected me; my woods protected me.

When Ron went to Hogwarts for his first year, Mum took us all to King's Cross Station to say goodbye. I was so jealous I was fit to burst. What I wouldn't have given to get on that train with Ron and Fred and George and Percy. To explore Gryffindor Tower and make friendships that last a lifetime. To learn under wise witches like McGonagall and to commiserate with others about Snape's unfair harassment. It was when we were entering the Platform that he spoke up.

"C-can you show me how- how…" a shy voice asked.

"How to get onto the platform?" Molly sweetly smiled.

That was the first time I saw him. The Boy Who Lived. Harry Potter. He seemed so sweet but shy and, Good Merlin, was he handsome. He looked up and SNAP; brown met green; honey met emerald. Something awoke in me the second we made eye contact; something primal, something strong, something I didn't fully understand. I knew he felt it too. I knew it. In that brief second, I saw my future and it was him. Needless to say, my mind was on little else besides Harry for the rest of the year. And my new hobbies did not help distract me from my new obsession.

I was suddenly the only child in a house that had never been lonely, never been quiet. I was so bored that I read all of Percy's old textbooks, with all of his meticulous notes in the margins. I practiced my "swish and flick" wand movements with a stick in the backyard. I helped Mum brew our household potions and, when she wasn't looking, created some of my own concoctions. She just about blew her lid when she found out; screaming about how I could kill myself by adding the wrong ingredient and how I was just her little baby. But I knew my potions theory and I never did anything recklessly. She screamed and threatened and lectured until I agreed to stop experimenting. I ended up grounded for a week and back to studying Percy's old books. "At least I'd be prepared," I thought. Hah! Prepared? I'd excel! I had basically memorized the Standard Book of Spells Years 1 through 6. I had researched and practiced both the practical and the theoretical aspects of magic. My fingers were practically itching to get my own wand. I had been saving up my whole life. While Ron spent his money on sweets and Fred and George spent their money on toys, I went without. Any sickle I'd ever received went straight into my little broom bank and soon I would have a wand, a real wand, to swish and flick with the best of them. I still made time every day to sit in my woods, to feel the magic of the earth around me. The simple magic of the soil, the breeze, the rushing of water, it entranced me. I studied that magic, the magic most over looked, as well as Percy's notes.

When I wasn't daydreaming about Harry or studying, I was learning how to cook, clean, sing, paint, sew, and even play a little Quidditch from my mother. Mum was thrilled that her little Ginevra was turning into a proper lady and I didn't mind appeasing her. Goodness knows, I was bored enough and afterwards, I'd return to daydreaming about Harry.

By the time Ron came home, a hero from his adventures with the Sorcerer's Stone, I was practically drooling at the bit to hear about his adventures with Harry. I was half way convinced that Harry had sought Ron out to become closer to me, that girl he saw on the Platform, that girl who he connected with. Imagine my shock when Ron said he did not even know I existed.

Before I knew it, the day we would go to Diagon Alley arrived. I woke up, showered, dressed, decided to change my jumper, and ran down stairs to ask Mum where my new blue jumper was. I bounded down the stairs and immediately ran into him. Him. Harry Potter. In my kitchen. Well, there's no other way to say it; I just panicked. I had long, elaborate daydreams about our first conversation, how I would be charming and witty, calm and collected. Instead, I wandered downstairs like an idiot and BAM! Brown reconnected with green, honey with emerald. I felt it in my bones and I watched as he felt nothing. I could feel his indifference like a cold slap in the face and I just- I just panicked. I tried to respond but the words caught in my throat. A thick wad of hurt bubbled up my esophagus and caught in the back of my mouth and I couldn't physically speak. I actually squeaked. I squeaked like a mouse and I fled.

I ran up the stairs, turned a corner, and took a shaky breath. How could I be such a fool? Of course he wouldn't care! How could I think he would ever care about me? I was devastated. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. I felt it sloshing around, his apathy and my stomach acid slowly burning a small hole into it. I heard steps behind me on the staircase and ran into my room. I wanted to continue to wallow, but just as I sat down and felt the tears welling up, Mum yelled that we would leave in 5 minutes. I took a deep breath, grabbed a jumper and emptied my broom bank. Feelings could wait; I was going to get my wand! My own wand. Not a hand-me-down like Ron's, but my own wand. However, before I could go to Ollivander's, Mum said we had to go get our books first. If we had only gone to Ollivander's first, my life may have been entirely different.

That was when I met him. And, consequently, him. Draco Malfoy casually sauntered up to Harry and insulted him. I automatically recognized Malfoy; silver blonde hair, aristocratic bone structure, it had to be a Malfoy. Before I could even think through it, I stepped in front of Harry.

"Leave him alone. He didn't ask for all that!" I glared into his eyes. Brown met grey; honey met silver. Once again, I felt something, not as strong as with Harry, but still something. Unlike with Harry, Malfoy felt it too. Malfoy was shocked into momentary silence; he cocked one delicate eyebrow.

"Look Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend!" he sneered at Harry. Waves of embarrassment rolled off of Harry. I was mortified at his discomfort. And Malfoy knew it. He smirked at me. I glared back at him. There was a slight pop in the air between us, and that's when Lucius intervened. From there it spiraled into complete chaos as my father fought Lucius. I have no idea when Lucius dropped the diary into my things. How Harry noticed, I'll never know.

The bedlam was far from over though. Mum was trying to drag us all home, but I convinced her to let me go to Ollivander's first. Fred and George were supposed to accompany me, but the new Nimbus 2001 sidetracked them. I entered Ollivander's shop to the tinkling of bells.

"Hello?" I called.

"Ah, another Wealsey." Came Ollivander's voice from behind the stacks. He rolled towards me, "Oh! A girl? A Weasley girl? Well, that is different." and with that he disappeared. When he reappeared, several boxes of wands were floating behind him. "Try this; birch and unicorn hair." I picked it up; it was as light as a feather. I swished and flicked and a vase exploded. "No, not that one." He said as he took the wand from my hand.

I tried wands of every core; unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, phoenix feather, even temperamental cores like veela hair, yet they all had mildly bad to disastrous results. I started to believe that I would never find my wand. The stuff of my daydreams was quickly turning to the stuff of my nightmares. What if there was a mistake? What if I was never going to find my wand?

"Stop." Ollivander commanded. As if he could read my thoughts, he took me by the hand and led me through the stacks of wands, occasionally giving me a new wand to try before immediately grabbing it after another disaster. "Dear, you are the first female Weasley in how many generations?"

"Well, I don't really know. Historically we only produce male heirs." I shrugged as the wand in my hand began to spit out flames like a sneezing dragon.

"Yes well, your mother and father certainly proved that, didn't they?" he chuckled as he gently removed the wand from my grip. "Still, I wonder…"

With that, Ollivander looked deep into my eyes, his own eyes seemed to unfocus and all was silent until he snapped back to reality. "Might as well try" he muttered and pulled me by a shelf. He tapped his wand once on the label for a jar of dragon hearts and twice on the lid of a jar of pixie wings and suddenly the shelves crawled backwards into the wall and slowly dropped to reveal a purely circular room.

Stone walls, carved with powerful runes, seemed to hold a piece of the most peaceful meadow I had ever seen. A sacred willow tree grew strong and proud, its branches gracefully protecting a moss covered stone, and on that stone, illuminated by leaf-spotted sunlight, sat a seemingly simple wand. The room reeked of old magic, ancient magic. I practically could not breath upon feeling it, because it was not just old and ancient, awe-inspiring and powerful, heart stopping and rejuvenating; it was familiar.

I was kneeling before the wand before I even remembered moving and with a steady but nervous hand, I stroked the delicate piece of wood.

Suddenly, I felt flashes of agony, betrayal, loss. I felt flames at my feet as my ancestors burned during the Inquisition, their screams becoming my own. I heard the screams; "Though shalt not suffer a witch to live!" as those who practiced the Olde Ways were beaten and drown, abused and burnt. I felt their agony, their unwillingness to lose their faith, their magic. I felt the suffering of a woman, screaming for her love who had betrayed her and her people; who had chosen his prodigy over her, over his vows. Her agony was staggering painful, but it was nothing compared to the pure rage I felt next. White hot anger boiled within me as I watched what was happening to these people, to my people. Through the eyes of this new woman, these people were not just wizards and witches, they were friends, priests, lovers, family. Their lives were being cut down just as they had cut down the sacred trees. She was furious, her daughter, the other suffering woman, was broken by betrayal, but they would be avenged.

They spoke the words of prophesy in unison, despite their distance and as if in a dream, I spoke it with them. The worlds flew across time and the energy crackled around me. "We will be avenged. Our people will be avenged. Our power will return in my daughter, the next Lady will rise. Once betrayed, she shall awaken. Twice betrayed, she will avenge. Thrice betrayed, all will fear her and love her as she reigns. The power to save or damn will rest in her hands."

And with those words, I fainted.

I gasped as I came to. Ollivander stood over me, pale and shocked yet checking my vitals by wand.

"What happened?" I asked.

"The wand has chosen. It has chosen you." He managed to choke out, before he too needed to sit down in the beautiful grass.

"Explain." It was not a request, and despite my age, Ollivander instantly complied.

"I searched for this wand for years, the lore behind it is one that wand makers have dreamt of. A wand made from the sacred tree that held Merlin and Nimue. The tree that acted as both a save haven and a prison. Merlin and Nimue could be happy forever there, except Merlin left to help Arthur fight Mordred. His choice meant that he would never be with Nimue ever again. It was his appearance at the battle that led to Mordred's death. Some say it was this choice that lead to the end of the time of the Olde Ways, that ushered in the new religion. In anger and despair, Nimue and her Mother, the High Priestess Morgaine Le Fae, swore vengeance and poured their grief and power into their sacred tree. This is one of the branches of that very Yew tree. There is no core, unless you count their grief, otherwise it is simply Yew."

"No core?" I asked. "If there is no core, then how do you know if the wand works?"

Ollivander gestured to the peaceful meadow contained in his shop, "Do you think I created this?" he chuckled. "The wand created its own resting place without any wizard controlling it. In fact, it has never chosen a wizard or witch before you." He looked at me meaningfully.

"I don't think it has chosen me, Sir. It practically attacked me!"

"Really, child? Then why are you holding it?"

Sure enough, the yew wand rested in my hand. I couldn't even remember fully holding the wand, much less taking it off the stone.

"And," Ollivander continued, "how did you create this?" gesturing to the meadow that was now covered in blossoming flowers. The very ground we were sitting on suddenly shook as brilliantly colored blossoms appeared, the willow tree suddenly dropping thousands of tiny flower petals on my head.

With shocked eyes, I turned towards Ollivander and said, "Well, I guess I'll take this one then. How much do I owe you?"

Ollivander began to laugh, not a small chuckle, but a big booming laugh, as he observed me. I stood and offered my hand and pulled him up from the flowering meadow.

As we left the circular room, suddenly the meadow disappeared, leaving only the stones, bare of runes, bare of life. I turned shocked eyes to Ollivander, who seemed to sputter through his confusion, until the tinkle of a bell let us know that someone else had entered the shop. Ollivander grabbed me by my shoulders and gravely said, "No one can know. You must not tell anyone. In fact, erase this from my mind."

"Have you gone mad?" I asked, taking a step away from him and raising my voice.

He shushed me and pleaded, "Do it. You must. If someone comes looking for it… Just do it." He stared at me with those piercing, intelligent eyes and without breaking eye contact, I raised my new wand and took away all knowledge of the Yew wand or of me.

"'Lo?" Came a voice from the front of the shop.

"Gin?" came a twin of the previous voice.

"Coming, Fred! Coming, George!" I called. I sat Ollivander down on a stool, placed my money in his hands and quickly hurried away. When I reached them, they looked concerned.

"Gin, you look pale." George asked. "Are you okay?" Fred completed.

"I just want to go home. Can we just go?" I asked them.

"Where's Ollivander?" Fred asked as George began looking down the long rows of wands.

"Fred, George, let's go. Please?" I pleaded. They looked at me, looked at each other, and then simultaneously they both offered me an arm.

"Why, my dear Lady…"

"We'd be delighted to escort you home."

I giggled at their silliness, at their hoity-toity accents, but nevertheless, linked my arms through theirs. We turned, left Ollivanders, and went to floo home.

I thought this had been one of the strangest days of my life. Connecting with a Malfoy, being chosen by my new wand, the vision, and Ollivander's warning? If only I knew then, if I knew what my life would become. I would've hidden away, climbed underneath my covers and refused to budge, refused to grow.

I had shoved the strange memory of Ollivander's shop in the back of my mind. I refused to acknowledge it, thinking that I must have had a stroke or something. Eventually, I could forget the agony, the memories. I just had my wand. I spent the rest of my summer preparing for Hogwarts, doing small bits of magic, so small that the Ministry could not even track it, with my wand, and spilling the juice or nudging my elbow in the butter dish every time Harry spoke to me. Yet, despite my catastrophic interactions with Harry, I did make a new friend.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Tom.

Him.

You have to understand, he was the best friend I have ever had. The best friend a girl could ever have. He was kind. He listened. He cajoled me. He made me laugh. I was so desperate to have a real friend, a Harry to my Ron. I could've written in any diary. But I didn't want a diary that would just listen. And Tom didn't just listen; Tom talked back.

I don't even remember when he exactly he earned my trust. I think the first time we spoke, it felt like I was coming home. A few days after our trip to Diagon Alley, I decided to start reading my new spell books when I found it. A small, leather, black book with a name etched in gold on the back. My first thought, to my eternal shame, was that it was a secret gift from Harry. I mean, Harry had given me his books, and the diary was with those books! Maybe he really did love me! Of course, I was wrong. I later thought it was a gift from my parents. I was used to slightly used gifts, I had been using hand-me-downs all of my life. I wrote in Tom's diary as if it were just a regular diary at first. My words disappeared into the book, but I thought it was a simple storage spell. This way I would never need another diary again! I wrote about Harry. No response. I wrote about Hogwarts. No response. I wrote about the Burrow and my woods. No response. I wrote about my family. No response. And one day, some words just appeared on the page.

"It's alright, Ginevra. One day he'll see you. They will all see you for who you are one day."

Of course, I freaked out. My Dad always said, "Don't trust anything if you can't see it's brain." And I definitely did not see a brain attached to my diary. I immediately shut the book and threw it across my room. There was a dull thud as the book hit my dresser and fell, open, on my floor. I crept out of bed, slowly inching towards the book. Finally, I was close enough to see what was on the page.

"Ginevra? I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry. I promise, I won't hurt you."

I carefully picked up my quill and wrote, "Who are you?"

He told me that he would only call me Ginevra, that I was his best friend and his Queen. He told me that I was important, that I meant something. From then on, I was hooked.

Between Tom and my brothers, I was prepared for Hogwarts. As soon as I stepped on the Hogwarts Express, I was ready. I planned on sitting with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but for some reason, I couldn't find Harry or Ron anywhere! I trailed behind Hermione as we searched the train, but they weren't there. I swear I saw them before we got on the platform! If you thought I was concerned, you should've seen Hermione. We settled in a compartment and I watched as she paced a hole in the rug. My fingers were already itching for Tom, but I didn't want her to see me as meek, so I waited until she left the compartment before I drug Tom out of my sack.

"Tom! I'm on the train now, but Harry and Ron aren't here! Hermoine is loosing her mind. I might be too. I am so nervous about the Sorting Ceremony. Every Weasley is a Gryffindor. What if I end up a Ravenclaw? Or a Hufflepuff?"

"Ginevra- we've spoken about this. Any house that gets you would be lucky! And if I know you at all, I know you are NOT a Hufflepuff."

I giggled as he teased me and before I knew it, we had arrived at Hogwarts. Thoughts of Ron and Harry disappeared as I stared at the magnificent castle. We travelled across the lake, up the main steps, and into the Entrance Hall. Outside of the Main Hall I saw a stern looking witch.

"Listen here, First Years! I am Professor McGonagall. Welcome to Hogwarts. We are about to enter into the Main Hall to be sorted. There are four houses…."

Her voice trailed off as I studied the surroundings around me. Elegant carvings surrounded every door. I could see the ruins etched for protection and knowledge all around me. A giant statue of Merlin stood in between the doors of the Main Hall. He looked kindly, but powerful. Something inside of me scoffed. As I looked to my fellow classmates, I immediately noticed the divide. Auras clouded with beliefs, with pain, with joy. Even at a young age, the light and dark magics had staked their claim in each person, and these people had already seemed to divide amongst the crowd so that light would not mix with dark. Despite the auras everyone appeared nervous. One kid was so excited he was nearly spitting and was taking photographs with a kamyra (My Dad had showed me one in his workshop so I knew what it was). There was a hand on my shoulder. It was McGonagall directing me towards the back of the line.

"Another Weasley, I see." She said with a slight tut in her voice. I turned my head sharply and made eye contact. I am not "another." I am not just one of many. I sent her a little glare and twisted into line.

I dutifully followed the other first years as we were ushered into the Main Hall. Voices chattered all around us and from above, the night just as clear as it was in my woods. I took a deep breath and gathered strength from it, stole the night's tranquility. I watched as the kamyra boy, Colin was sorted into Gryffindor. Great, I thought, now I'll have to see him all the time. I watched as a boy with piercing eyes, Theodore Nott, was sorted into Slytherin. He stared at me throughout his entire Sorting. Crystal Blue met Brown. Honey met Ice. I shuddered. It was unnerving. Finally, it was time to for me. I took a deep breath, climbed up the little podium, and hopped into the seat. I could see Fred pretending to sleep and George flicking his nose to wake him up. Fred's wink was the last thing before the hat covered my eyes.

"Hullo?" I thought. It was like my thought echoed around in pitch black nothingness.

"Hush! I am thinking!" Said the hat into my ear. "I see great things for you. Great, but painful things. Does this frighten you?"

"I'm not scared." I thought. Suddenly from a dark part of my consciousness a voice whispered, "It is those who would hurt me that should be afraid."

"Ahh, yes. I see. I know just where to place you now."

I prepared myself to hear Gryffindor, to take my place besides Fred and George, to be the latest Gryffindor Weasley and walk into my heritage and my rightful house. Instead, everyone heard a resounding, "SLYTHERIN!"

Silence. There was no applause, only the sound of my heart beating rapidly in my chest. The hat lifted off my eyes and I looked into McGonagall's startled eyes. I begged her to intercede with my eyes, brimming with panicked tears.

"Join your house, Ms. Weasley." She said. Join my house? MY house? There had clearly been some kind of mistake! In no way, could I, the scrappiest, littlest, red haired, freckled WEASLEY be a Slytherin!

I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath and held on to the tranquility of the stars. I let the night fill me, starting in my lungs. I breathed in the night and held onto it. Then, borrowing its strength I took a shaky step to my new table. I sat at the end of the table and immediately everyone scooted away from me. I was a leper. No one wanted to catch the Weasley, the Gryffindor, flying off of me. I straightened my spine and glared down the table. Malfoy. That little bastard was smirking right at me. He turned to his giant lumps of so-called-friends, pointed, and laughed. Anger. I felt it boiling inside of me and begging to be let out. My wand hand twitched.

"Don't."

My head snapped around. It was Nott. "It's not worth it. Not here. Not now." His blue eyes were icy and cold and like an icicle, they stabbed right through me. Clarity. Now is not the time. I nodded and stuffed my mouth with a spoonful of mashed potatoes. I focused on chewing and swallowing for the rest of the night. The goal was to not vomit in front of the whole school, to not make myself an easy target in my new house. The night stayed steadily within me, straightening my spine when I really wanted to collapse. I looked around the other first years and I noticed that, once again, I was the only girl. Story of my life.

I walked towards the back of the group and some snooty Prefect led us to our Common Room, in the literal underbelly of the school. The room was stone marked with emerald accents, ruins traced in silver around the ceiling and floor. Plush but posh furniture lined the emerald fireplace. Refined Elegance. Rich and Cold. Definitely, NOT what I was used to. I made it up to my room and closed the door before the tears began. I conjured a bucket and emptied my stomach into it and called a House Elf to take it away. I pulled out my diary when the door handle turned. I am the only girl in my class. Who could it be?

I looked up and BAM. Silver once more met Chocolate. Malfoy. "I should have known. You are far from an ordinary Weasley, Weasley. Welcome to my domain." He sneered. I glared hard and the wardrobe began to rattle.

"Get. Out." I huffed out. The door began to shake with the wardrobe. I needed to calm down. This was not the time to lose control. "Get out. Now." I seethed.

"Some of that famous Weasley temper then? You're in my house now and you will follow my rules, Weasley. First, you-" I flicked my wrist and the door slammed in his face. I began to feel better until thinking of his stupid shocked face until I heard him on the other side of the door "It doesn't matter, Weasley! You don't matter!"

He stomped away and I felt another round of self shaming tears creeping up inside my eyes. I grabbed Tom and held him to my chest. I fell asleep holding him and silently weeping.

The next day was worse. I awoke to a letter from my parents. Errol had flown in through my room's window, not the Main Hall, which was a bad sign. It read:

"Dear Ginny,

Oh darling, we were quite surprised to hear of your sorting. Slytherin? We've already spoken to the Headmaster and he said that a resorting is not appropriate in this situation. So, might as well make the best out of this situation. You can be a much-needed ray of sunshine in Slytherin House.

In other news, we have decided to visit Charlie over Christmas, so sign up to stay at school over the holiday, dear. Study hard!

We still love you.

Mum and Dad"

My tears stained the parchment and blurred their signatures. I quickly folded the letter and carefully placed it in my trunk.

I will keep this letter forever. I thought as my heart broke. They still love me? Why still? Was my sorting enough to disown me? I quickly dressed, filled with self loathing at the green stripes on my tie and my jumper, brushed my teeth and hair and made my way up to the Main Hall.

Harry and Ron were back. Ron grabbed my wrist and flung me into a separate corridor as soon as I made my way towards to Main Hall for breakfast.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" he roared. "SLYTHERIN?!" I swear in that moment, he looked like Gryffindor's lion, with his eyes wild and his nostrils flared.

Hermione must've seen my puffy eyes and she put a hand on his shoulder and said, "Ron…"

He took a heated breath and said, "Gin, it's just. Slytherin? Why? What will people think? What will Mum and Dad think?"

At this my eyes became steely. "It's not like I chose this, Ron. But there's nothing I can do so I should just make the best of it." I was parroting back their words. We still love you.

"THE BEST OF IT?!" he bellowed. The Lion was back. "THE BEST- The BEST OF IT?! The best of SLYTHERIN? Who are you? You are not my sister."

Hermione gasped. Harry paled. Tears clouded my vision. "If that's how you feel," my voice wobbled, "then, fine." I turned on my heel and began to walk away.

"No Gin! No that's not what I meant! I just meant this isn't like you! Gin? Ginny?!"

It was too late. My heart ached at the loss of him, the Ron I knew.

I turned the corner and grabbed Tom from my bag and immediately wrote out everything that had happened.

"Time for a lesson: there is no space in your life for people who don't support you. Ginevra, you can show him. I can make you the smartest, most powerful witch this school has ever seen! Would you like me to teach you?"

"Ms. Weasley!" a outstretched hand stopped me from running into the table.

"Ms. Weasley, this is exactly why there has never been a Weasley in Slytherin. Pay attention, girl! I will not have you shaming my house!" Snape sneered from behind a crooked nose. I eyed him up. Greasy hair, black, bat-like robes, a permanent sneer.

"Yes… sir." I said with a challenge in my eye.

He looked shocked and then looked even deeper into my eyes. I felt him, peering through my memories. The woods, Fred and George chanting "Men!", Ron with his lion voice yelling at me. How dare he! I abruptly turned my head and he lost connection. "I would ask that you never again do that without my consent…Sir." I whispered with all the strength of my fury. The sky above us growled with a coming thunderstorm.

"Yes, of course. My apologies. Now, Ms. Weasley, here is your schedule. Do not mess up." And with that Snape's robes fluttered around him as he stormed out.

"It doesn't matter, Weasley. You don't matter." Whispered a cold voice behind me. Malfoy. I whipped around and glared at him. With that the sky opened up above us and the children shrieked as the ceiling portrayed the vicious storm above us. Malfoy smirked and sauntered off to class.

My hurt, my fury at Mum and Dad, at Ron, at Snape, at Malfoy, at the world pushed me to open up my diary and write out, "Tom, teach me everything."

"You must let me in then. Let me in, Ginevra."

And I did. With that I signed over my soul.

Tom was a great teacher. My previous studying impressed him, I was already top of my class with minimal effort, and soon he was teaching me advanced magics. Advanced and old magics. Arithmacy, transfiguration, ruins, charms, and potions, all the way up to Year 7 were easy. Spells and their theory were easy. But that was just the beginning. Some of the magic scared me. But magic like that, it is a drug. I conjured; I called upon ancient deities and asked for strength, for sustenance. I pulled from out of the air around me whatever I needed. I did not need to use my voice, only my thoughts to speak to the heavens. I used my blood to channel extreme amounts of power, to make things happen, to see what I could not unsee. Everything was given acknowledgement, everything was graced, and everything was devoured. I let Tom into every corner of my mind, so he could help me control the magic. Soon I didn't even need the diary to speak to him, he was in my mind. Tom was thrilled. He told me he was proud of me, that I was a savant with magic, just like him.

That's not to say I didn't work hard. I worked my fingers to the bone. I would do the impossible simply to receive a "Well done, Ginevra." From him. I was sick. I spent the majority of my time in the library studying, followed by staying up late to have lessons with Tom. When you have access to that kind of magic, you don't need sleep, you don't need food, your psyche only needs that connection with that power. I lost time. Tom said it was normal, I woke up with feathers and blood in my hands, but Tom said not to worry. He said that the power was too strong that time, but he protected me. He was all I needed to protect me. Mrs. Norris, Filch's dumb cat, and Nearly Headless Nick were attacked. But Tom would protect me. Tom gave me everything I needed. Tom showed me magic. Apparently; however, I started to wane physically.

Surprisingly, Nott was the first to notice it. "Eat." He said and he pushed the platter of porridge in front of me. I looked up sharply from the book "Bone and Blood: The Power of Sacrifice" that I had charmed to look like "Standard Book of Spells: Year One." Nott's crystal blue eyes stared at me.

"What have you been doing? Your eyes are different."

"What?" I asked, my hands instinctively touching my face. "What do you mean?"

"They are… They are gold." Nott responded while looking down. The other Slytherins were starting to notice our discussion. Warrington, a third year with cruel eyes grunted at Nott and shot him a questioning glare. "Eat." Nott muttered and gestured to the porridge again.

I sighed and filled a bowl with the sticky stuff, I continued to read as I mindlessly ate a small amount of the porridge.

I chose to skip lunch and retreated to the first floor Girls Bathroom. Moaning Myrtle left me well enough alone as long as I returned the favor. I stared at my eyes in the mirror. Nott was right, what had once been pure chocolate brown was now streaked with gold coming from the pupil. My hair was different too. No longer was it ginger, strawberry blonde and straight. Now it corkscrewed deep, dark red from the root into the lighter strawberry blonde at the tip. My lips were fuller and my cheek bones had started to pull up, so I no longer had the face of my childhood, but the face of a young adult.

Tom? I called in my head. Tom. I look different.

Of course you do, my Ginevra. I told you that the magic could change you. You look beautiful. You look like my Queen, my friend. Tom soothingly cajoled into my ear. I blushed and looked away. When I looked in the mirror again, I noticed the dark circles beneath my eyes, the tautness of my skin, pulled tight over my skinny face. Perhaps Nott was right. You're tired. Draw some strength to get through the day. Tom whispered. I muttered a spell and my palm split, letting a thin trickle of blood to pour from my hand into the basin of a sink. I quickly draw a ruin with it, calling on the healing powers of water and the energy of the waves. "For the Lady" I whispered beneath my breath. Tom did not teach me that. It came naturally to me and Tom said it was because I was a female. He encouraged me to make all sacrifices to the Lady. Immediately, I felt the cool power of the water running throughout my body. My back arched as I felt the strength of the ocean's wave pull me in and out, into the abyss of magic and back out again, my powers replenished.

Now, I looked alive again. But there was already more gold in my eyes than before. I looked at my watch, quickly pulled my hair into a bun and ran out of the door to get to the library when I ran straight into Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed. "We were just looking for you!" She said nervously.

"In the girls' toilets?" I asked, pointedly looking at Harry and Ron. Ron was refusing to make eye contact with me.

"Yes!" Harry. He seemed grateful to have an explanation. "It's just- Ginny, you look very thin. Have you been eating?" I looked into his eyes and could hear Tom's voice echoing inside my head, "You look beautiful." I blushed again.

Ron sighed loudly. I glared at him. "What?" I asked.

"Look Gin, Mum will get mad if I let you stay this thin. Just because you're a" he gulped, "Slytherin, doesn't mean that you get to kill yourself."

"Wow, Ron. Look at your depth of caring." The anger was pouring off of me in waves.

"No. No, Ginny. It's just- you're always in the library. And you know how much time I spend in there! Are you getting enough sleep?" Hermione asked.

"We're worried about you." Harry said as he scuffed his shoes on the ground, looking like the child confessing to stealing candy. My heart thumped. He cared about me? Tom scoffed in my head.

"What are you doing bothering a Slytherin?" came a dark voice from around the corridor. Warrington. He came into the light twirling his wand between his fingers.

"I'm allowed to talk to my sister!" Ron bellowed.

"Really?" asked Warrington, "Because you haven't spoken to her since the beginning of school and it's just about Christmas. Doesn't sound very… familial."

"Why do you even care?" Asked Harry, his nobility pouring through his pores. He would be willing to duel Warrington for me, this damsel in distress, even though he did not even know me. But maybe he cared for me? Tom scoffed even louder.

Warrington leered at me, looked my skinny body up and down, and said "Investment for the future."

Ron roared. Harry and Hermione instinctively grabbed an arm each and held him back. In my head, Tom promised revenge for Warrington daring to look at me. I was his.

I put my hand up. "Hush." I said and Ron quieted. Harry and Hermione looked confused. I straightened my spine and tried to look like the Queen Tom told me I was. I threw a haughty glare at Warrington, looked him up and down, and muttered, "Disgusting." He glowered and silently lipped out the word "later." He turned the corner and I knew I had a new enemy.

As soon as he left Harry and Hermione were speaking rapidly, Ron was still hushed.

"He can't say that! You should talk to Dumbledore. I am sure there are rules-"

"How dare he! We are not afraid of him! Ginny, we can protect you, we should-"

"Hush." I said once more. "I don't need your protection." I said. Harry looked crestfallen, "But, I will start to eat more." Hermione nodded. I nodded back. "Goodbye, Gryffindors." I said in parting. Ron scowled.

On my way to the library, I was stopped once more. "Ms. Weasley!" squeaked a small voice. You're very popular today. Tom said sarcastically. He liked having me to himself. I smiled and turned to see Professor Flitwick. "Professor." I nodded at him.

"Frankly, Ms. Weasley, your charms work is very impressive. You seem bored in my class and I would like to put you in the Advanced Class next year, that is, if you can keep up the pace of the workload while maintaining your health." He gestured to my skinny wrists.

"The Advanced Class? With Grade 6 and 7?"

"If you think it is too much, my dear-"

"No! I would be honored, Professor. Thank you. And I promise I will take care of myself." I smiled.

"Ms. Weasley, I have spoken to the other Professors about you and they have told me that you are the top in your class. If you continue to succeed in my advanced class, I will speak to the other Professors about apprenticeships and advancements. You might get to be tutored by Dumbledore himself!" He squeaked. He beamed with pride at me and quickly hurried down the corridor.

Tom! You were right! I am on my way to being the smartest witch in this school. I thought.

Oh, you have no idea, my darling. Tom whispered.

Christmas came and went. Malfoy stayed and showed off every present he received. Mum had sent me a Weasley sweater, but it was maroon and gold. I could not wear it here, in the Snake Den. Tom told me to cut my losses with my family. He said that I only needed him. He was right. He was my only friend, my confidant, my love. While I wrote in my diary, sitting in front of the fireplace on the divan, Malfoy continued to parade his wealth around the room. Crabbe and Goyle, their mouths full of sweets, made the appropriate grunts at the appropriate times to appease him. Nott sat in the corner, watching. He was always watching.

I was writing to Tom when someone grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me onto the floor. "Disgusting, am I?" Warrington growled. His groupie friend Marcus flint stood behind him and laughed.

"Show her, Carl." Warrington spit in my face and whipped out his wand.

"A duel, Weasley?" he crowed. "Or, would you rather just concede now?"

I wiped the spit from beneath my eye. The fury beat in me like a hurricane. I roared. They had awoken the Lion in me, but I was much more than that, I thought.

"Warrington! Flint! What are you doing?" yelled a surprised Malfoy. "She's a first year for Merlin's sake!" Malfoy argued with Warrington as Nott left the Common Room and I stood, the fury causing me to shake.

"Lay off, Malfoy. She's not yours. You don't get to help her." Warrington spat at him.

"This is your mistake, Warrington." A snake like voice whispered out of my mouth.

Warrington's eyebrow popped up. "Really, Weasley? We'll see." He took a small bow, I nodded my head in return.

The first strike came from Warrington. It was easy to counter. I let him run circles around me shooting spell after spell, while I stood calmly countering them. When he seemed to become exhausted, I started my attack. First the air him up by his ankle and spun him fast around the room, then several clubs beat him in the face. My famous Bat-Bogey Hex was working wonders. My anger was insatiable. He was beaten, but I was just getting started.

"You dare to spit on me?" I whispered. My anger surged. Tom was whispering cruel words in my mouth. I whipped my wand and created a pool of small fire beneath both of Warrington's hands. He screamed as they burned and his screams appeased me. "You SPIT on ME?!" I roared. The flames increased and so did his screams. Tom was crowing in my head. He was dancing. He was twirling me around in pride. He was gently kissing my eyelids and the spot where the spit had hit me. He was telling me that I was worth it. I was lost in Tom and in Warrington's screams.

Suddenly Malfoy had my face in his hands. "WEASLEY!" he screamed.

SNAP. I came to. Silver met gold and that something between us shook me out of the abyss.

"Oh." I whispered disorientedly.

"Weasley. Can you hear me? Weasley!" Malfoy continued to panic.

"Snape is coming!" Nott ran into the room. He took a step back at seeing Warrington passed out on the floor, bloody and beaten. The smell of blistering flesh tickled the back of my throat. Nott looked like he might throw up.

"Snape?" I asked. I was still so confused. Where was I?

"Weasley! Do something!" Malfoy was pacing now. He was gripping at his blonde hair and looking at me with such panic.

I breathed and the fire stopped. I looked over Warrington.

"You." I barked at Marcus. "Take him to the Hospital Wing after this. Never speak of it." Marcus shakily nodded.

I whispered a few healing spells over Warrington and summoned a few potions that I shoved down his throat. I had brewed them under the careful instruction of Tom. They would heal almost anything. Then I woke him up.

"Carl. If you so much as look at me again, I will end you. Do you understand?" I threatened, gold eyes flashing. I stood up and looked over the room, "No one will ever speak of this. Do you understand?" Everyone nodded. Then Snape burst into the room.

"What is happening?" he took in the room. Everyone stood in a semi circle facing Warrington and me. Warrington lay on the floor and looked purely beaten. The air still smelt of burning meat but Warrington's hands were healing rapidly. My wand hung from my hand, easy to snap into action if I needed to. Snape focused on my wand hand. "Flint?" he called. "What happened here?" His eyes never left my wand. The piece of yew called to me, ready to spring into action in a moments notice.

"Well, sir, there was a- well, sir, you see… Umm… a duel, sir. There was a duel." Flint stuttered. Everyone's heads snapped towards Marcus and glared.

"It was my fault, sir." Warrington muttered and he struggled to stand. The bruises on his face started to heal rapidly and Snape looked startled at the healing progress.

"Really?" Snape glared. "Weasley, come with me. Flint, take Warrington to the Hospital Wing."

I glared at Warrington as I began to follow Snape. For some unknown reason, Malfoy started to follow behind us.

"Sir? Sir! I was there. This is not her fault. He attacked her and she was just defending herself. Sir!" Malfoy jogged to keep up with us.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape uttered, "This is none of your business. Return to the Common Room at once. Why are you defending a Weasley in any case?"

Malfoy turned, looked me in the eye and said, "It doesn't matter. She doesn't matter." His eyes seemed so sad but it did not stop him from stalking past me. He lightly brushed my fingers as walked past me. I turned to watch him go.

"Wealsey!" Snape growled. "What did you do to Warrington? What did you give him?"

I snapped back to Snape. "He is completely healed. It does not matter."

"What did you do?" Snape growled. He grabbed my face and looked deeply into my eyes. Tom had told me about this. We had a plan. I began to cry.

"He spit on me." I let the sadness and anger overwhelm my mind. "My family hates me, I have nothing, and then, he spit on me." Snape retreated from my mind, overcome by the depth of my sadness.

"He spit?" Snape seemed startled. He moved behind his desk and sat down. He gestured to the chair in front of him. "Ms. Weasley, you are a very gifted student and you have not embarrassed me as of yet. I did not know things had progressed to spitting." He took a deep breath, "If you need someone to talk to," he scowled, "I am… available."

I wanted to laugh, instead, I kept crying, "Thank you, sir. But, no thank you. I must decline."

He looked relieved. Then he told me he would be watching me very carefully and sent me back to the Common Room.

I walked, dazedly, back to my room. No one tried to stop me; no one said a word. I was busy in my head.

Tom? Tom? What was that? That was not me? I would never be so happy to hurt someone! Tom? Tom? I called out. For the first time, he remained silent. I felt his satisfied smile echo throughout my conscious.

School continued and so did the attacks. I started to doubt Tom. No matter what he said, the thought of me brutally beating Warrington felt wrong. It wasn't me.

Tom. I'm scared.

Don't be scared, my love. I will never leave you. Tom's words which once soothed me, terrified me. I panicked. I ran into the first floor toilets.

Tom, I have to tell Dumbledore. Something isn't right. I'm losing too much time. I can't find the spell that requires chicken blood! Why do I keep waking up covered in it? Something is wrong, Tom.

Shut up, Ginevra. You are whining.

This was wrong. I pulled out his diary and looked at it. It was wrong. I could feel it in my bones.

Wrong, Ginevra? I am inside of you now. How could I be wrong? How could you be wrong?

Voices. I panicked. I whipped my head around and began to run out of the bathroom. Before I could think, I threw the diary into a stall and ran full speed down the corridor and towards the library.

It doesn't matter. You don't matter. Tom continued to mock me as I blindly ran from him.

I could feel the tears, heavy on my eyelids, ready to be spilt. I was so tired. So tired.

BAM. I ran into something solid and fell on the floor. My bag ripped and my books scattered everywhere.

"I am so sorry!" It was Harry. Harry Potter. Merlin, I could not catch a break. "Ginny?" he gently took my hand and pulled me up. "Are you okay? What's wrong?" He asked, noticing the stray tears on my face. "Are you hurt?" He looked so concerned. He looked so trustworthy. He looked like he cared.

"Oh, Harry- I…" It doesn't matter. You don't matter. "I-"

"She twisted her ankle. Crabbe, Goyle, take her to the Hospital Wing." Malfoy.

He came up behind me and gently took my hand from Harry's. "This doesn't concern you, Potter." He shot me a concerned look, and passed me off to Crabbe while Goyle collected my books. "Limp." He whispered into my ear. I held on to Crabbe's shoulder and pretended to limp away while Malfoy and Harry got into another argument.

"Leave her alone, Malfoy! You dirty snake!"

"Oh, that's rich! Coming from the boy who SPEAKS TO SNAKES! Petrified anyone else lately, Potter?"

And so it continued until Lockhart stepped in and interrupted them.

Crabbe and Goyle dumbly walked me all the way to the Hospital Wing and sat me in a bed. They called for Madam Pomfrey and then they left. I looked to my left. There was Colin Creevey, the boy who had so annoyed me with his kamyra. Next to him was Justin Finch-Fletchley, the boy who Harry had spoken Parseltongue to. I felt a stirring in my stomach.

I did this. Didn't I?

It doesn't matter. You don't matter. I buried my heads in my hands and tried to remember to breathe. The panic was growing in me.

You did this, Tom.

No, Ginevra. You did this. You don't matter.

I did this.

You don't matter.

I did this. I don't matter.

The next thing I knew, Madame Pomfrey had me breathing into a paper bag. She laid me down and told me to sleep. The tears were leaking out of me. I tried to speak; I tried to tell her. But Tom held my vocal chords in his hands. All that came out were choked gasps. She poured a dreamless Sleep Potion into my mouth and I was out. I was in the abyss, resting on a cloud, ignorant of my evil doings. I was not there. I simply wasn't. I slept.

Pomfrey busied around me, making noises to herself and sometimes to me. "You need to get more rest, young lady. Grades are not worth your health!" I thanked her and quickly slipped out of the Hospital Wing to the Main Hall. I was starving.

I filled my plate with more food than I had eaten in a week. I quickly shoved two pieces of Shepard's Pie in my mouth. Nott silently sat next to me and poured me a glass of pumpkin juice. I chugged it.

"Take your time." He whispered. His head was down; he wouldn't look at me. I took a breath and looked up. Malfoy and Warrington were both staring. I took another deep breath and ate slower. I was feeling more alive than I had in months. I listened to the chatter around the table. They were all speaking about… me? Apparently I had sent an embarrassing Valentine to Harry? I looked shocked and looked around the table. Warrington made eye contact and smirked. Flint snickered next to him. I glowered at them. Flint stopped snickering and moved behind Warrington. Warrington gulped and looked away. I would have my revenge later. For now, Tom was gone.

I took a knife under the table and carved an ancient ruin of protection into my wrist. I healed it and recarved it again and again. I hadn't heard Tom yet. Maybe, I could keep him out.

Nott grabbed my wrist and looked alarmed. "I know what I'm doing." I whispered next to him. He let go of my wrist and I kept carving, a small pool of blood gathering beneath me. Nott offered me a napkin. I shook my head no and pulled out a small potions vial. A quick spell had the floor clean and the vial full. I corked it and saved it for later. I was already feeling better. This was a powerful ruin. Surely, it would protect me.

I looked up from my work, smiling, reaching for more pie when I saw it. Harry Potter had my diary. He was showing Ron and Hermione. All of the blood left my face. Nott put a steadying hand on my back. I was swaying.

Tom. Tom had Harry. If Tom had Harry, he had Hermione. He had Ron.

Tom? Tom? I called. A haunting laugh echoed throughout my psyche. I should've known. He promised he'd never leave me. And he was angry. I could feel the heat of his anger. He'd take it out on them.

I had to get him back.

The plan was easy. I grabbed Dean Thomas, one of Harry's roommates, and pulled him into an alcove. The idiot thought I wanted to snog him. It worked for the ruse though. I batted my eyelashes and turned my wand on him.

"What's the Gryffindor password? How do I get there? Where does Harry sleep? What's Gryffindor's Timetable?" Through wide eyes, Dean told me everything. I did a quick memory charm on him and kissed his cheek for the trouble. Then I was off.

The plan was easy, sneak into the Gryffindor Tower and steal back Tom before he could corrupt Harry. I would accept my punishment.

I snuck in when Harry was in Potions. No one would try to do anything other than potions in front of Snape. I transfigured my robes to the Gryffindor colors and charmed my hair brown and walked in behind a large group of giggling third years. I didn't even need the password. I took a second to admire the Common Room. It looked like the Burrow. Comfy, overstuffed couches, red and gold everywhere, a roaring fire, laughing, smiling faces. I took a deep breath, and quickly climbed up the stairs to Harry's room. The place was already trashed. But I tore it up even more. I threw Harry's things everywhere before I found it, wrapped in a scarf. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least, Harry, Hermione, and Ron would be safe. I went to Ron's bed and threw his things everywhere as well. I destroyed the whole room for good measure. Then, I put the diary in my bag and snuck out of the Tower. In a bathroom I transfigured myself back to normal. I sat beneath the sink and opened the Diary. I took out a quill and wrote.

"What did you do Tom?" I waited and waited. No response. I finally opened my bag and pulled out the vial of blood. I dipped my quill in it and wrote again.

"Tom, what did you do? Are they safe?"

"Choose one." I knew he couldn't resist the call of blood.

"What? Choose one what?"

"Choose one of them. One of the Golden Trio. Your betrayal will cost you one of them."

"Tom. I can't. Please, just punish me. Please, Tom. I'm begging you. Tom- I can-"

"Time for a lesson."

That was when the first wave of crucio went through me. He started in at the nerve center in my hand and it spread throughout my body. "Tom! Stop!" I cried out. Then he started the next wave at my ear. It was like being hit by lightening over and over again. He forced me to break my wrist as I watched. He tore through my mind, my mental shields and destroyed my happiest memories. First, he took my mother. Every moment of love and protection that she had ever given me was stripped away. I was left gasping, bleeding, and broken. "Hermione." I croaked out. His laugh echoed in my head.

Come now, my Queen. Don't be sad. Remember when we danced? Let us dance again.

I blacked out.

Hermione had been petrified. It was all my fault. Tom was stricter than ever. I could not speak without permission. I was in my own personal hell. I was caged. I was trapped. He heard every plan in my brain to break free, and after a quick punishment, he laughed and forgave me; a sweet kiss on each eyelid, a mocking bow. My Queen. I saved my strength; I let him take me over. I did not struggle. I laid in wait. I called upon the lady and channeled in a corner of my mind.

The time came. We were in the Potions Lab. Tom was making me methodically chop up the dung beetles. I saw my chance and I pushed. I used all of my magic and energy and I grabbed the knife and slit my wrist. "Help." I whispered to Nott, my potions partner.

"Good Merlin!" he said. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my wrist. He whipped out his wand and started a healing spell. I pushed his wand away. "No. Kill me, Nott. Kill m-" I blacked out.

I woke up in the Hospital Wing. Tom was furious. He made me get up and guided me through the castle. My tiny feet barely making barely a whisper among the corridors, his disillusionment charm working perfectly. He made me strangle a chicken.

You don't get to be gone for this Ginevra. Fair is fair.

I wrote in blood on the wall.

"HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER." Inside my head, I wept.

Then, Tom took me to Myrtle's bathroom and opened the secret door. Down the tunnel I slid. I began speaking parseltongue. I heard the slithering and shut my eyes.

It will not hurt me Ginevra, therefore it will not hurt you. You are mine.

He forced me to walk towards the center of the Chamber. He made me throw the diary on the ground. It opened and out of it he sprang. At first, it was like he was a mist. Then, he began to become more solid. Dark messy hair and dark eyes. He looked a bit like Harry. At this thought, he chuckled.

"Hello Ginevra, my Queen."

His real voice. It wasn't just inside my head.

"Tom." I was startled. The fact that I had spoken at all was a sign that I was fighting. He glared.

"Time for a lesson." The crucio hit me hard. I fell on the floor and spasmed. My head cracked against the stone and spots appeared in front of my eyes.

"Now my Queen," he said, lifting the curse. "Shall we dance?" He kissed both of my eyelids, grabbed my hands and we began a slow waltz around the Chamber. He hummed and twirled me deftly. I was so tired; I could barely stand on my feet. I went limp; I chose to let him control me, again. I swung around him like a rag doll. He laughed and laid me on the floor.

"Time for another lesson: Remember. See what you've done." With that, the memories flooded my mind. I knew everything. Everything he had made me do. The sacrifices, the deals, the deaths of the innocent creatures were on my hands. The poor souls petrified and frozen forever, that was me. The dark magic, dark enough to stain my soul, he had me do.

"Don't worry, my Ginevra. I won't kill you. That's what Harry is for. I will keep you. You will be mine. My doll. My Queen." He smoothed my hair back and gazed at me fondly.

The black in my vision started to grow, to spread inwards, to stain my vision forever.

"Tom." I managed to say, my lips heavy, but nowhere near as heavy as my heart. One tear fell half hazardly from my eye.

"Tom?" I whispered. The abyss was trying to hold onto me. Its loving arms cradled me as I struggled to find the surface; it threatened to consume me, with its wonderful nothingness. But I couldn't go yet; I needed to stop him. I needed to save Ron. I had to save Harry.

The black started to disperse and colors came forward. Emerald. Emerald Green swam in front of me.

"Harry?"

"Ginny! It's okay! I did it! I stopped him! Look!" He held up the diary, it danced around my head, twirling as I had done hours before. I swayed.

"It was me, Harry. I tried to tell you! I didn't want to but he made me. He made me-" I choked out a sob. "Oh, Harry." He enveloped me into a hug. I broke down.

"I know, Ginny. I know. Come on, lets get out of here." Harry helped me up. He had the diary in one hand, a basilisk fang stabbed into its pages, ink leaking all over the floor. I reached down and coated my fingers in the ink. I started to draw ruins all over myself in the blood ink. Ruins of healing and strength and protection. Ruins to save my soul. Harry didn't even notice. He picked up a sword and the Sorting Hat.

"Harry, what happened?" I asked him. He chuckled and shyly rumpled his perfectly messy hair. A beautiful song filled my soul and a phoenix landed on my shoulder. He cried two tears into my hand; I immediately drank them. "Thank you, Phoenix. I will not forget your sacrifice." I whispered. I looked towards Harry. I owed him my life, my soul. How could I repay him for his sacrifice?

We climbed out of the chamber and found Ron. Ron held me tighter than he's ever done before. In the corner was a disheveled Lockhart. I shot Harry a look from between Ron's arms. He shrugged. We held hands and Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix flew us out of the cave and into the light.

My parents were worried, worried and furious. They held me close and then yelled at me only to pull me into another hug. Somehow, Dumbledore knew that I had been possessed by Lord Voldemort. My parents were shocked. I had to tell them about the diary, about how I thought it was from them, how I had written in it all year, how I had exchanged my soul for one single friend.

"I tried to stop him, I swear." I told Dumbledore. "He- he wouldn't let me." I said, my voice cold like a stone. Dumbledore looked into my eyes, into the black pit that was my soul. "Oh dear" he whispered, then he sent me to Madame Pomfrey.

She huffed as she took my diagnostics. She told me that my magical core was deeply depleted and that I could not do any magic over the summer. It needed to replenish. She reset my wrist and gave me potions to fix the nerve damage caused by the cruciatus curse. "In my day, we would never! A mere child! The damage alone!" She puffed out incomplete thoughts as she did her work. She turned to leave and I grabbed her hand, "Please, dreamless sleep. I can't remember. Not yet."

"Of course, dearie." She smoothed my hair back and asked, "Who drew these ruins? Dumbledore?" The dreamless sleep was being passed into my hands and I took a gulp.

"I did. Maybe they will keep him away."

"But how-" I was gone before she could finish her question. I dove headfirst into the abyss.

The abyss shook around me. A crack of light in the pure blackness of my consciousness. The voice boomed from all around me, it vibrated all around me, starting from my ribcage and working its way through me until I was buzzing with the energy of it. The abyss began to shatter above me and I was surprised to find the booming voice was coming from me.

I awoke despite the potion. Light shone all around me. A voice in my ear cajoled me "Awaken, my dear. Awaken and learn."

I saw it all again; the same vision from Ollivander's shop. But this time, a beautiful woman held my hand through it all. She was tall, with dark curly hair pouring over her shoulders. She had a crescent moon tattoo on her forehand and had black eyes that pierced my soul. She wore a flowing gown of white linen, simply tied in several places. The sight of her alone filled me with serenity. She was filled with divinity, with grace.

"This is not an easy task, but you are strong. We will be there to teach you, to guide you. I am sorry that this burden has fallen to you, my child. My Lady."

Then she was gone. I was sitting in the Hospital Wing, in the pitch dark. The only people next to me were my petrified victims. My wrist burned. Next to my protection ruin scar was a crescent moon it was a perfect scar. I looked to my other wrist; it was there too.

She had given me her protection. "Thank you, Lady." I whispered and collapsed into sleep again.

When I awoke, the petrified victims were receiving the Mandrake potion from Snape. They would be okay. I took a deep breath and slunk out of the room while Madam Pomfrey was busy helping Percy's secret girlfriend, Penelope. He was making such a scene that the whole family was focused on her, letting me escape unnoticed. Malfoy was waiting in the corridor.

"Malfoy?" I asked. He took my hand and led me into an alcove.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know." He whispered. His face shone with guilt.

"This isn't your fault, it was me." I answered him. My hand subconsciously reached up to brush some strands of hair away from his face. He caught it and wrapped his fingers around mine.

"My father gave you that diary. He knew what it was. And Potter gave it back to him." He spat out Harry's name. "You've been marked, Weasley. This is far from over."

"It doesn't matter." I said

"It does matter!" He cut me off, "You matter." I almost cried at those words.

"I know," I replied. "He will never leave me alone." I whispered. Lord Voldemort. No, Tom. He will always be Tom to me. Draco's hold tightened on my hand. I doubt he knew that he was still holding my hand. "It's Ginevra, by the way."

"What?"

"My name is not Weasley, it's Ginevra."

He smiled, not a sneer, a honest-to-goodness smile. "I'm Draco."

"Nice to meet you, Draco." I smiled back.

"Listen, if you need to talk over the break, it's the least I can do…" he shuffled around his point.

"Do you want me to write you over break?" I asked.

"Only if you want to. I'll send you an owl. For you to keep. And if you ever want to talk, I will help you. I owe you that."

"Draco, an owl is too much-" I started to protest.

"Ginevra," his touched my face with his hand and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "it is just the beginning."

Then he took a deep breath and left the alcove. I looked after him confused and startled, but my heart was warm. Perhaps, I wasn't alone.

On the train ride home, I sat with the Golden Trio, still blushing an embarrassing shade of red every time Harry looked at me. I had found the time alone to thank
Harry and apologize to Hermione. Harry was gracious and Hermione forgave me but she still looked at me with a twinge of fear in her eyes. I sat in the corner, next to Ron, sitting as still as a statue, and uncomfortable as one too. I finally had enough and stood up.

"Where are you going?" Ron demanded.

"I'm going to go sit with some girls from my year, Ron. Have a good break, Hermione. You too, Harry." And with that I slipped out of the compartment. I could hear Ron throwing a tantrum about me through the compartment door, so I quickly took off to find Draco.

He was sitting in a compartment with Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Crabbe, Goyle, go do something somewhere else." Draco commanded. The two lumps got up and left. Draco stood and welcomed me to his compartment. With a wide gesture, he introduced me to Nott.

"Theodore, this is Ginevra. Ginevra, Theodore." I smiled at Draco as he insisted Nott stand up and take a ridiculous bow.

"Hello, Theo." I greeted. I offered him my hand to shake. He took it and turned it so my wrist was showing.

"It's healed well." Said Theo, tracing the small scar on my wrist from my attempt with the knife in Potions. He did not comment on the ruins or the crescent moon. I flushed and looked around. How could I explain it to them? Draco gently took my hand from Theo and shot him a look. Draco tucked my hand inside his arm and led me to a plush seat. I spoke comfortably with them for the rest of the trip.

Before we left the train, Draco handed me a cage with a beautiful raven inside. It's glossy wings shone blue in the compartment's lights. I was shocked.

"It seemed to fit you." He shrugged. "Don't forget to write, Ginevra. She cannot be intercepted, so your messages will be safe."

"What's her name?" I asked, breathless.

"That is up to you."

I smiled at Draco and then looked to the raven. She cocked her head at me. "Morrigan?" I asked it. It cawed its agreement. "Morrigan it is. Thank you, Draco."

I nodded to both Theo and Draco and left to join my family.

This summer would be long, magicless, and painful as I suffered through the mind healing sessions that I needed, but at least I could write Theo and Draco. At least I wasn't alone.

"You matter." Echoed throughout my head as my family greeted me awkwardly; as I was welcomed, but only at arms length.