Everything was cold. The smell of rot, decay, and moisture settled like a thick fog. My robes were soaked all the way through, hanging heavy on my body. My head pounded, but I just couldn't exactly remember why… Did I hit my head? Yeah… I was hit with a body binding spell, so I must have. Did that mean I was still in the Slytherin common room? It was dark enough to be the common room. If things were normal, I would be in the Hospital Wing right now, but things weren't normal. Tom—Voldemort was back in the castle that he used to call school, and the last time he inhabited it… even just his memory…
I slowly opened my eyes and stared up at the high ceiling, a wave of déjà vu washed over me and quickly, I shut my eyes. No… no, no, no. I could feel my stomach tighten and bile rise up into my throat. This had to be a dream. Dumbledore had closed the chamber himself. He said that it would never be opened again.
"Open your eyes, Ginevra. I know that you're awake," Tom—Voldemort taunted me.
I became even stiller yet. This wasn't Tom. Tom was my friend. Tom was the one that when he brought me down here, he would comfort me, playfully laugh at my irrational fear of the basilisk while I was with him, whisper soft promises of everything being okay. But Tom was the one that also tried to kill me…
"Ginevra…" I could hear him move beside me and squat down, my heart starting to race. "Open your eyes." I still didn't move. "Now," he commanded.
I winced and cracked an eye open.
"Sit up, you silly girl." His voice still sounded so harsh… It made me want more than anything to just curl into a ball, but I did as he demanded. "You're so much more obedient down here than what you were up in the Great Hall," he mused. "Is it because you don't feel the need to prove yourself in front of your peers, or is it because of the memories that this brings back? That's right, Ginevra, I remember everything. Every conversation has been imprinted into my mind."
"Th-that's impossible… Dumbledore said—"
"Dumbledore is dead. Nor was he half the wizard that I am, and you know that just as well, if not more so than anyone else. Dumbledore wasn't even completely aware of the extent in which my magic extends. When Potter "destroyed" the diary, a fragment of the horcrux attached itself to you, not enough recreate myself, but enough to leave an impression. Another fragment attached itself to a page. A page that you yourself had taken from the diary before discarding it. It was that fragment that was used to restore my age and a portion of my power."
"How did you even find it?" I quietly asked.
"It called to me, as do all of my horcruxes. And you."
"So you brought me down here to do what you attempted almost five years ago," I stated, the earlier dread seeping back into me.
"No. It would be rather pointless. The fragment that fled into you was so small that you really give me more power while you're alive than with you dead. You're down here to be enlightened. To be punished." He stood back up and began to circle around me.
"You consider this to be the hardest place to return, do you not? You wished, more than almost anything, for Dumbledore to have been successful in sealing this chamber, for him to have been right that I would never return to haunt you in this form. Did you not? Answer me!" he hissed.
I winced again and closed my eyes. I didn't want to have this conversation. Not with him. Not ever.
"You don't really need to answer, I've already taken it from you head, but I think you should answer it out loud." Whenever Tom used to say that he thought I should do something, it was the same as a demand to do as he said. It always upset him when I defied him… even more so when I completely ignored him.
A tear slid down my face as I answered, mumbling, "You're right…"
"What was that?"
"I do wish those things…"
"What. Things. Say it." He snapped, getting down, inches from my face.
I trembled and shook my head. I couldn't.
"You're not leaving until you do as I say."
I mumbled so quietly that I could hardly hear myself. "I wished Dumbledore had been successful in sealing the chamber… and I wish you would have never come back."
"But that's a lie, now isn't it? You did want me back. How many times throughout the years have you wished I was there with you? How many times have you ached to hear my voice. My words. To be respected while at the same time to be under someone in power." He chuckled for a second. "Oh, I know. You love to be an independent woman, but Potter doesn't give you what you want. He treats you like a little porcelain doll—doesn't really show any respect for you. And he doesn't really have the power to control you. It's not hard to figure out."
"Y-you lie. I've never wished for you back. And I love Harry for the respect that he shows me. The kindness. The love. But you don't know anything about that, now do you?" My voice came out harsher than I had meant for it to, it seemed like a defense.
He chuckled again. "You know that I speak nothing but the truth. Why else would you have tied yourself to the diary? Why else would you have originally sought after Potter? His charm? Admit it. I still hold control over you." His voice became serious, darker, cold… much like it was when I first woke up. "Look at me and honestly tell me I don't."
I looked up at him, met his eyes, and the next few words came out perfectly, much to my own surprise. "You have no control over me. None like you used to."
"Perhaps… You have grown. So, do you know why you are down here?" Tom asked, immediately back to business.
A little bit of bravery seemed to be gathering within me. "Enlightenment and punishment. That's what you said, wasn't it."
Tom moved quicker than I had expected, grabbing me by the arm and hoisting me up to my feet. The room spun around, and I immediately began to stumble as I couldn't find my footing. Again, the familiar feeling swept over me and I was brought back to my first year. Any courage or confidence I may have been gaining diminished. I was back to being the small little girl that I was in my first year, hoping for someone to come and save me, someone that would never come.
"I don't appreciate that tone of yours. You will respect me, even if you feel I have no control over you. Do you know why you need to be enlightened and punished," he snapped, his grip tightening on my arm. I could feel bruises forming from the abuse of the past night where his fingers had and continued to dig in.
I cringed. "L-like always. I have upset you. You never really brought me down here… not conscious anyway, unless I had done something to displease you. There were a few exceptions to that, but that was usually why."
"And how exactly have you upset me this time, Ginevra?"
"Probably the undermining of your authority," I blurted out, immediately covering my mouth.
He chuckled again. "Perhaps I should just leave you here and make you get out yourself."
"I can't!" I yelled, panicked. "Don't you dare leave me down here!"
He grabbed my chin and brought his face inches from mine, and when I tried to get away, his grip tightened. "Don't you dare," he hissed, "tell me what to do. You are weak, under me, and I own you, whether you are aware of it or not. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" His grip got even tighter as he spoke, earning him a small yelp of surprise.
I swallowed hard. Tom—Voldemort had a certain aura that seemed to begin to emanate from him. It was like what muggles seemed to refer to as… static buildup? I think my father said. It was unlike anything that I had ever seen or felt. It was frightening as the power rolled off of him. It made me feel so small…
"Do I make myself clear, Ginevra?" His voice was so sharp that it could cut through stone.
"Y-yes," I stuttered.
"Good." He released me, storming off in the direction of Slytherin's statue as I fell to my knees. "You are such an infuriating girl. You don't listen. You fight me. You fight my authority. I don't know what to do with you anymore… Things are different than the way they used to be. You never used to fight me. You never used to argue. Only when you got scared did you… You'll clean up this attitude of yours. You'll stay in the Slytherin common room. You won't hex your housemates. The hat sorted you for a reason… although… I'm curious.
"Do you know what I'm curious about?"
"No…"
He chuckled. "The shard… it's given you one of my abilities. You're not conscious of it yet though… or you would have realized that I just spoke Parseltongue, and you just responded back in it."
"No…" my voice trailed off. "I didn't. It's impossible."
"Impossible?" he questioned. "A mere baby boy thwarting the most powerful wizard of the time while at his peak. Now that, my dear girl, is impossible. You having a mere shard of myself and that shard giving you some of my power. That's plausible."
"I… I don't believe you. You're lying!" I screamed, shuffling away over the wet, uneven floor.
He turned back towards me and in a few quick strides, he was right there, hoisting me back up to my feet. He dragged me over to the door. "Say it."
I shook my head rapidly, my heart rate and breathing increasing. "S-say what?" I questioned, although I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to open the door. The magic on the chamber was ancient and powerful. How powerful, I wasn't certain, but certainly powerful enough that falsifying opening the door would be fairly hard to hide.
"Open it."
"I-I can't!" A couple of tears started to stream down my face.
"Ginevra. Open. It."
With tears streaming, I finally did as he said. "Open."
The door clicked and swung open, revealing the same passage that I had last seen barely having escaped the Chamber with my life. I could feel myself go limp as the tears fell more freely.
Voldemort picked me up and carried me out of the chamber. I couldn't see a single thing leaving; I didn't want to see a single thing. I could hear the hushed whispers after we had re-entered the main hall. I could feel the sunlight hit my face as I was laid down on what felt like a hospital bed.
"Pomfrey," he called out. Madame Pomfrey was the only one that had managed to avoid being locked into the cells.
She quickly made her way to my bedside. "Ms. Weasley…"
"She likely has a concussion, she's emotional, and likely needs sleep. Take care of it." Voldemort commanded before turning to walk out of the room.
"Are you alright, Dear?" she questioned softly.
"Y-yeah." I wiped off the tears. "The truth is sometimes… a bit difficult."
"Did he hurt you? Touch you…?"
I shook my head. "He didn't hurt me; not physically, not really. And no. The concussion is from hitting my head after being hit with a body binding curse. I'm fine."
She shook her head and walked away, returning with two vials. "I may not like him, but he's right with the treatment you require. Bottoms up." She tisked at my uniform before waving her wand, drying it off. "Try and get some sleep, Deary."
That was the last thing I heard before drifting off to sleep.
