All is quiet as if the entire world around us is finally at peace. I can't even hear the wind. It's like nature itself has decided to remain solemn and respectful in face of the still fresh victory. It's cold here, near the lake, and so painfully still.
Behind me, Hogwarts is a ruin. A mess of broken stones and torn up walls. Nevertheless, it stands tall and dignified, grand in its timelessness, the war that had breached its gates just another stumble in its everlasting history. I can almost hear the old stones' breath, whisper. A stark contrast to the mirror like water in front of me.
Everyone is already sleeping, drunk on happiness or grief. Weary bodies laid to rest after a long bloody battle. I know… I should be asleep too. But… the truth is… I am terrified of closing my eyes.
My secret of three years has never hunted me as much as it does now, after The Dark Lord's death, after his final fall. I have guarded it the best I could for all these years, pretending to be normal, old Ginny everyone needed me to be, pretending that a cup of hot chocolate fixed everything.
It's past time I tell someone the truth… so why not you?
And the truth is… I… I never left that huge, entrancing room hidden underneath Hogwarts. Not really.
I never left him.
Every night, I have returned to the Chamber of Secrets. I have walked between those eerie, bewitching snake statues, their glittery eyes following my every movement, counting my every breath. My naked feet left no sound as I walked down that ancient cold stone. My steps were always slow, and… since I know you won't tell anyone of this, I can admit it… it wasn't caution that slowed me down.
It was fear.
I was always afraid. Always. Yet I never stopped. Never faltered. Just… kept walking.
Tom Riddle was inevitably there, at the end of the chamber. Tall, dark and alluring. Waiting for me. His eyes, cold, black and bottomless, shined with some light I never understood. There might've been amusement in their dark depth, joy at my despair, my helplessness, my weakness. Cruelty was in there somewhere. Occasional anger too. They would flash red, the same colour of my blood; blood that he so carelessly spilled on numerous occasions for countless reasons.
I am uncertain of his continuous presence at the end of that grandiose room, but not afraid of going back. Not truly. After all these years, the ice that settles in my veins is familiar, the pain biting at my skin even welcomed. My tormentor is… a dear companion and I… I am his willing prey. So… you know… that... isn't the reason I am afraid of falling asleep.
No… Terror that now holds me hostage is a different beast. It feeds of my unease of who I am. Grows out of the darkness that hides in my heart and is watered by despair that fills me at the very thought of losing myself to it.
I am sorry for all the rambling. It's so hard to explain my fear to you without telling you first of an important lesson I learned from Tom Riddle. A lesson I am grateful for. One that I wish to pass on… to you.
Listen carefully.
Real monsters are not outside somewhere, where… one can chase them, fight them, defeat them once and for all. No. Real monsters leave on the inside. In me. In you. In all of us. We each have to fight the monster inside of us. It is the most important battle of our life.
It is time for me to see whether I lost or won my fight. That is what scares me tonight. My response to Tom Riddle's disappearance or his immovable presence in me will tell me all I need to know about myself. I am horrified of the answer.
You should be too.
