She woke up slowly, gradually, feeling like her head was stuffed with cotton. She opened her eyes with a vague sense of confusion, encountering whiteness. He felt wariness, trying to force his sluggish thoughts to cooperate.

What happened to him? He felt uneasy. The longer she peered around her, the more she was frightened. White, white, white. It was a colour of danger, a colour that exposes, that reveals. There was nothing around him that could deflect attention, nothing to help him regain his bearings.

She heard a sound, muffled by the white drapes surrounding her, then footsteps. A hand took hold of the cloth and pulled it aside. It took her a moment to recognise the person stepping through.

"Miss Weasley! You are finally awake, how do you feel?" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey.

"Ah… slow, weird. Not myself." She blinked blearily. "What…?"

"It's all right, be calm. Let's try something simple. Can you tell me your name?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came to mind. He felt frustration when it became obvious he couldn't remember. He knew names, names were something that frustrated him, made him angry, made him wistful, made him want things he didn't have. Names have power, and without it she was powerless.

"I…"

"I imagine you are confused, here, let's try this." The Mediwitch reached into her robes and pulled out a wand. With a flick aimed beyond the curtains, she summoned to her a vial of potion.

The girl froze at the sight of a wand. A saviour, a tool, a weapon, power.

"Where is my wand?" she asked in a rush.

Madam Pomfrey arched an eyebrow at the abrupt inquiry and then reached in a bedside table drawer to pull out the wand. As soon as it was offered to the girl, she snatched it up and hugged it close to her body. She felt some of the tension leave her.

"I see." Smiled the Mediwitch. "I suppose such comfort may help, you were through a lot. However, no magic until your core stabilises, young lady, and that is an order. No magic at all, or you could seriously stretch your recovery time."

He realised then the cause for the grogginess, confusion and weakness inside him must be the consequence of a magical accident. Quite a traumatic one at that, he mussed, his eyes unfocusing as he started to pay more attention to his magic. It was unsettled and stretched thin, uneven and elusive. What was he doing to get a core in a state like this?

"Miss Weasley?"

The concerned question brought him out of his observations and he nodded.

"No magic, yes, of course."

"Hm, well, drink the potion now, it should help with the head, get those thoughts straight. Then we should get some food and water into you, to get your body on the path of recovery. You are too thin."

She heard her leaving with an empty vial, but her mind was caught on the words 'too thin'. Her mother said that, she realised. I have a mother, and a father, and brothers, and they are all loud and happy and…

'Here Ginny, have some more mashed potatoes, you are way too thin! You must still be hungry!'

But she knew hunger. It twisted your insides, made you desperate, made you look around for anything edible to consume. Anything.

He remembered a dark, hungry place, where there were no mothers or fathers. Where everyone distrusted him and he distrusted everyone else. Where the last bite in the bowl was his after he learned how to make the others forget to reach for it. It wasn't much, and it magic didn't last for long, but a bite more a day helped. If you want something, you have to take it for yourself, because no one else will just give it to you.

'Here, Ginny, do you want the last chicken wing? Take it, I don't want you going hungry. But leave a spot in your belly, will you? I made cherry pie, just for you, I know it is your favourite. Eat up!'

She was interrupted in her memories about her mother by a returning Madam Pomfrey.

"You are all pale! Here, drink this, best have some sugar in your blood."

She was offered a big glass of pumpkin juice, which she took gratefully to buy herself time and get her bearings. She didn't understand her own thoughts and it scared her, because they were differing from 'normal' but still his, just that they were buzzing around, switching tracks.

He knew who he was now, but there was no one answer, and he realised there shouldn't be more than one. What kind of accident did he have, to cause such confusion. It felt like he gained something, but couldn't put a finger on it. Nothing felt out of place, but he knew that it should.

She didn't quite want to ask the Mediwitch, didn't dare. Didn't want her suspicious, didn't want to appear vulnerable.

Finishing her juice, she looked hopefully for more. She certainly felt better, more solid. She got a bowl of vegetable soup with instruction to sip it slowly and not bother with utensils. Ginny did just that and observed the Mediwitch opening the curtains and letting the light reach her bed. She got a view on a row of windows and the grounds beyond the glass. It felt much better than the white walls surrounding her before. She liked nature, spending most of her life outside, running around with her brothers. It brought happy memories and it was a relief.

It appeared to be early evening and Madam Pomfrey was puttering around, disappearing inside her office then coming out again. After finishing with the soup, she shifted her attention on her wand. I was 'her' wand, but she expected it to look different. She had another wand, she remembered having it for years. But then it was lost…? She didn't have it anymore. She 'couldn't' have it anymore. This is her wand now, even if it didn't feel as comfortable as the last one. He knew his damaged core contributed to the weak and uneasy connection. He will just have to wait for the core to stabilise and master the wand through practice. It should be doable.

He figured he should start with easy spells, like ones he started learning at the start of the year. Wingardium leviosa seemed like an appropriate start, since there was not much that could go wrong if his magic or his wand decided to act out. When her mind turned to other spells she learned this year, she found more and more blank spots, classes she didn't remember attending or even skipping. It must be part of the problem, the accident she couldn't remember. He switched to the other first year, also spotty, but that due to age, not magic. Quite a few spells were added before his concentration broke because of a full bladder.

A call summoned the Mediwitch, who helped him stand up. It was necessary to rely on her help, as his legs were weak and shaky. With aid he managed to reach the lavatory, where he was left in privacy and with instruction to call if needing help.

Tired already, he supported himself on the wall with one hand, and reached with the other to open his trousers. As he looked down he choked in incomprehension. There was something down there that shouldn't be. He was seeing a woman's body! Well, a girl's body! Which was fine, being a girl, since she was a girl, but she should have a cock. He always had a cock. Right?!

He suddenly felt lightheaded and sat down on the toilet. After black spots left his vision, he looked down on his lap. It felt normal, sitting down like that, she has done it a thousand times. But she still felt the… equipment was wrong. There should be a cock to pee with.

He really should clear this up. There was something really wrong with him. With his thoughts. They were… something.

She was too tired for this right now.

She peed, feeling weird and uncomfortable wiping herself, then went to clean her hands to the sink. She looked at herself in the mirror, her red hair appearing lifeless, skin sickly pale and… she had dark eyes. Looking closer, they were greyish-brown so dark they could have been black. Her eyes were always brown and… his eyes were dark.

He remembered looking in the mirror, black hair, pale skin and dark eyes.

Tom Riddle.