I just want people to stop acting like they know everything about me.
I can show you secrets no one else knows.
I want to prove them wrong.
I can teach you extraordinary things.
I want to do something new, something none of them have ever done before!
Let me help you. Let me in…
-*o*-
Everything was dark. She could hear some kind of struggle just outside the limits of her perception. Her senses were vague; she was aware of her body, but only barely. She felt weak.
Think, think. What's the last thing you remember?
Tom. He was showing you something. But what?
Ginny's mind felt sore, like her legs after the first time she rode a broom. It wasn't damaged necessarily but strained, stretched. She forced herself to focus, to remember. The lack of sensory input, although still concerning, made it easier to concentrate. Something was very, very wrong, and Ginny hadn't survived with six older brothers by ignoring her instincts.
Focus! You wrote in the diary. Tom offered to help, what next?
With an almost physical heave of concentration and panic, the dam in Ginny's mind cracked.
The roosters! And . . . a bathroom? Myrtle?
Encouraged by the slight trickle of memory, Ginny shoved harder against the block in her mind. Her mental muscles were screaming with fatigue, but she couldn't stop now, she had to remember. She was so close to getting what she wanted. She could practically feel the cracks widening, the barrier giving way. In the back of her mind, she could hear her mother's voice cautioning against giving in to her anger, telling her she had to be careful because she was the seventh child. She'd never understood that particular advice; you needed two generations of seventh children to be special. Now, she hoped there was something to her mum's warnings, dug down for all the rage she had, and pushed it at the wall.
With a shudder, the block finally crumbled and vanished, leaving a strange emptiness in its wake. Quickly, the void filled with hidden memories from the past year.
Tom explaining her potions homework.
Tom teaching her new hexes.
Tom telling her to kill the roosters.
Tom giving her instructions to avoid Filch in the halls.
Tom showing her what to write on the wall.
Tom making her walk to Myrtle's bathroom.
Tom forcing her mouth move in shapes that seemed impossible.
Tom gloating about his plans.
Tom sharing his "stroke of genius" because he'd gone so long without "suitable company."
The memories flashed by, finding their correct places in her mind, and she wondered if it was possible to throw up inside your own head. Knowing that she had done these things, that Tom had made her do them, that she had trusted him, was so nauseating that she was sure she'd find out.
Ginny suddenly recognized the sickly, slimy, and oddly incomplete presence of Tom's soul next to hers now that she knew what the feeling was, and before she fully registered what was happening, she became furious. Every bit of her mind, magic, and soul lit up with incandescent rage against this appalling echo of a wizard and the things he'd forced her to do. As her conscious mind caught up with her instincts, Ginny rode the wave of fury straight towards the repulsive thing that dared try to share her body. She pummeled at it, screamed at it, cursed it, and rejected it with everything she had left. Finally, she felt the bit of Tom flee.
In her exhaustion, Ginny was vaguely aware that the Tom-thing had returned to the diary. If she focused, she could practically feel other bits of him floating around in the world-malevolent presences lying in wait for some other unfortunate soul to stumble across. Just the thought made her want to burn the world like Ron had burned down the shed last summer after finding a nest of spiders.
As she felt herself being pulled down into magical exhaustion, Ginny's last, fervent thought was that she wished she could stop Tom from ever hurting anyone like he'd hurt her. She wanted to throw a wrench in his grand plans before they could properly start. Bastard.
-*o*-
"Young miss is needing to wake up! Miss should not take naps in the bathroom!"
As Ginny peeled her eyes open, she found herself staring directly back into the bright green eyes of a house elf.
"Miss is coming with Gertie to the infirmary, yes miss is."
The elf, Gertie, apparently, prodded Ginny to her feet, and started herding her toward the door. However, before the pair had gone more than five feet, Ginny keeled over again, and this time she stayed down.
"Students is getting lazier and littler every year, they is."
