Ginny plopped down on her bed at the Leaky Calderon, squeezing her face tightly against the pillow and began to cry.
She had accepted Tom's suggestion for her to leave early with a lot of relief.
Ginny had probably shown more about how she felt during that afternoon than she thought, and Tom probably had found her behaviour very odd and unprofessional or something along those lines.
She knew he probably did not think anything about it besides that; and at that moment, she thanked the tradition that half of Tom's family had adopted to maintain their blood purity, and that was responsible for the psychopathic disaster with who she shared those hours during the afternoon.
There was nothing she could do about what had happened but let her tears dry out; she would rather cry all she had to cry now than spend another day like this.
She did not understand how it was possible to feel this way; it had been years since everything at happened and she had everything saved behind strong walls in her mind. Ginny had not let a tear fall after the day it all happened. She was not willing to let anyone that Voldemort had broken her in any way.
Turning up, Ginny faced the bed's canopy, the fabric was ornamented with a complicated embroidered illustrating a forest and she could see some animals walking among the trees and low shrubs, certainly, something made to help even the most energetic wizards fall asleep.
It seemed that her first year of school had passed centuries ago and not just ten years ago. She still remembered the surprise she had when she found the soft black notebook among the second-hand books her parents had bought, and the satisfaction she felt for receiving a gift.
That afternoon, she had put the notebook on her bed, away from the heavy books reserved for the first years, and began to organize her trunk, putting the uniforms to one side, books to another, some normal clothes to wear at the weekends and finally the feathers and new ink bottles on top of everything.
When all was properly arranged to her liking she sat on the bed and flipped through the notebook, the pages were yellowed but empty. She did not mind it was old, after all, almost everything she owned was second-handed, and she probably will not like it as much if it was brand new.
Deciding to take advantage of the good weather, Ginny went down the several flights of stairs that separated her room from the kitchen and took the muggle pen her father liked to use when working in the yard on his projects, with her. She picked up the broom that was just outside the door and flew to the roof, where she sat in her favourite spot, and opened the notebook on the first page. Under the strong sunlight, it seemed to have something written on the first page and Ginny frowned and pulled the notebook closer to her face, changing its position to make sure that she was reading right.
'T. M. Riddle' was written on it, and Ginny was immediately worried that instead of a gift, the book had accidentally fallen among her things and was someone else property. Deciding to ignore her fears, she took the pen cap and try to decide what to write first.
After that, the year had passed like a flash and she found herself holding Harry's hand flying away from the Chamber and a huge snake dead bellow her feet.
Now that she had stopped crying, she was feeling kind of empty inside, it was not too late to expose the whole truth to Dumbledore and ask him, no, demand a house in the middle of nowhere without contact with the outside world, until she was able to get back to her own time.
"Lord Voldemort." She said aloud, despite having overcome the fear of saying his name after she was 11 years old, abide by the unspoken rule of not saying it out loud, in this moment, it felt strange, it also felt weird to associate it with the man at the store.
Crossing what she knew about her Tom, the one from the notebook, the little she had absorbed during the day and what Harry had told her, Ginny decided that at that time, she was dealing with Tom Riddle, not Lord Voldemort.
Although he already was a powerful wizard, already having a considerable homicide list for someone so young, he was not quite yet, the Lord Voldemort she knew. He had not emanated that thing that distinguished him as such, that aura of dark power that he spread around him.
Maybe she felt like this his soul has not been so broken has it was in the future, and that made him more human.
Taking a deep breath Ginny sat on the bed, her hands behind her back holding her weight, and her legs straight in front of her.
Her head was starting to hurt and she felt like she urgently needed a bath, but she couldn't find the courage to wear the same clothes she was wearing since Friday, well... since the dinner the day before that, if she wanted, to be honest.
Taking her small purse from a pocket inside her cloak, Ginny got through her money, putting aside the one she needed to eat and ensure the room until Monday morning, and was pleasantly surprised with the amount that was left for her to go buy some clothes.
Ginny rolled her eyes when she realised she had found the only good thing about living in 1946: Inflation.
She could stay a week and a half extra at the Leaky Cauldron with the money she allocated to clothing after all, those were precious days away from Tom and Burke, but the need to buy new underwear was screaming at her and she could not delay it for another day. Ginny did not want to have to wash her current underwear by hand again.
She looked at herself in the full-length mirror that was in the corner of the room, which confirmed the horrible look she was supposed to have after spending so much time crying, and tried to comb her hair with her fingers, failing miserably and making a mental note to buy a brush as well.
Tightly her cloak against her body as she entered the Diagon Alley, she immediately went to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, but when she reached the door, the space was occupied by a broom repair shop. 'Now what?' She asked herself.
A witch with an ugly mustard yellow hat, which combined with the rest of her flashy clothes was passing behind her with her arms full of bags was the solution, and Ginny took the opportunity to ask her where she could buy some second-hand clothes and was immediately sent to a store a few doors up.
The inside of that store was warm, welcoming and had some witches looking at the clothes. The part of the store closer to the door was reserved to the new, in fashion, clothes, and Ginny watched the expensive articles carefully folded on the shelves and arranged over the mannequins, that dressed in the most elegant pieces of their collection. She decided that she would buy her shoes and underwear in that area, after all, who would wear second-hand underwear?
Since she could not buy anything from there besides that, she quickly went to the back, where the second-hand clothes were, clearly more affordable, and that would allow her to buy a larger quantity of articles. She always preferred quality to quantity, but she had never been in a position of having only the clothes she had on her body, and because of that, quality was, therefore, a luxury.
Ginny began to take some hangers out of their brackets, noting the long skirts. In another place and time, she would have loved to drag Hermione and try all the extravagant pieces she found, but now she had no time for it and she had not seen enough women during the weekend to realise what was exactly fashionable.
She pulled a set of hangers aside and found a blue dress whose style she recognised because she had seen it a few weeks ago, in one of the Muggle movies that her father forced the family to see from time to time.
She would have to thank Harry for giving that weird machine to her father when she eventually returned home.
Eventually.
Ginny could not remember the name of the movie, or much of it in general because as always, she had taken advantage of the two hours that her father forced her to be on the couch, for a nap, at least that is what she did when Harry or Hermione wasn't elbowing her ribs to keep her awake.
She recalled that all actors dressed similarly, to what she saw around her, so she decided to follow that dress style and asked for help to one of the assistants, and embraced the fact of having to dedicate a few hours to being futile at a time when style and good looks should not be a priority... but wearing pants would be weird, and she didn't want to be that weird person in pants.
The employee of the store, when she realised that Ginny was going to buy a complete wardrobe, was more than excited for both of them, and pushed Ginny into the dressing room with a ridiculous amount of clothes in her arms. When Ginny was finally released, the store was already closed for nearly an hour, her arms were full of bags, and it was with some difficulty that she walked down the Diagon Alley.
She dumped the bags on the bed, spreading the new clothes on the cover and bewitched them to find a place in the wardrobe, passing between the clothes that began to fold and flying around, Ginny head to a well-disserved bath.
The water was almost boiling when she sat down in the tub, and the bath salts that she was given in the shop spread a pleasant aroma in the small room.
Ginny looked at the hand that Tom had touched; the tingling sensation had long be gone.
Tomorrow she had to be in the store early, and seven hours of work in his company awaited her, seven very long hours, but she was almost prepared for them.
She had survived part of the afternoon sitting next to him, survived... she was not sure how long, but she had survived the shopping and being dressed like a doll, do there was that.
Ginny was sure she would be able to do anything she wanted the next day.
From the comfort of the bath, Ginny felt exhausted by the experience and decided never to go shopping in her life again, she also decided to drink some hot chocolate at the end of her dinner because she had a vague idea of the film she had seen to be about chocolates.
Wrapped in a towel, Ginny opened the wardrobe and looked satisfied at her tidy and organised clothes inside. After dressing herself, she looked in the mirror, turning around to see her back, appreciating her form on the new dark blue dress that left her shoulders bare and the red high heels, with a frown. She did not recognise herself; it could not be more different from the way she usually dressed.
After years of running around the house with her brothers, summers spent playing Quidditch, and the war... there was no time for dresses, they were not practical and overall, she found them quite cumbersome and boring. She would rather return to her collection of jeans and leave the dress to the actress on that movie, with her short hair and elegant movements it seems to fit her a lot better.
She rubbed her arms and pulled her hair forward over her right shoulder, tomorrow she would have to pin it up somehow, no one seemed to use their hair loose as she liked.
Her dinner went well, and in the end, she took the small cup of hot chocolate with her to the room and put on a nightgown that reached her feet, as was fashionable. She was sure she was going to wake up with it wrapped around her waist, she thought as she sipped her hot chocolate sitting cross-legged on the bed. She always had woken wrapped on those things, and therefore preferred to sleep in the comfort of the old clothes that Charlie had left at home, Ginny would cut her hair short to have the baggy pants and worn t-shirt, three numbers above her size, at that moment.
It was with a blue blouse, tight high waist skirt that fell below her knees, red heels and a black shawl that Ginny left to the Borgin & Burkes in the morning, precisely at nine, and glanced around trying to find Tom.
"You should move from the front of the fireplace Ginevra; the first packages of the day should be here at any moment," Tom said from behind the counter while stirring the tea he had in front of him.
Ginny looked back at the flames just in time to see them change colours, and she had to support herself on the closest armchair when she lost balance as her feet disappeared in a small sea of boxes.
"Are you alright?" He asked, Ginny nodded and with a gesture of her wand the boxes began to float around her. "Good morning." She greeted him and pulled her shawl over her shoulders which had slipped to her waist when she had lost her balance. "Where should I put this?"
"You can put them here on the counter," Tom said indicating the space beside him and Ginny floated the boxes in front of her until they landed on the dark wood.
Tom looked at her with attention when she arrived and was pleased to see her clearly more relaxed. Whatever it was that she had the day before, it seemed to have been put under control and Tom hoped that the day would run smoothly and without any drama.
He could not deny he was starting to be curious about her, if he had seen her at Hogwarts, he would have thought she was a Weasley, with all that red hair that resembled those of that family. Then there was the issue related to the way she had suddenly appeared in the store, Tom even had put some time apart to re-read something about Apparating, but he had come even close to finding an explanation for what he had seen.
The owner of the store on the other side of the street, where Burke had been, also was a witness of what had happened, and had passed through the store to talk about it after he sent the girl home, and vowed with her feet together that she seemed to have been pushed into the store more than Apparate.
About her being hired by Burke, well, that was not a mystery, since the skirt she was wearing besides him was all the explanation he needed to why Burke had hired her, and really didn't want to know anything more about it.
However, what really caught his attention was the set of three events to which he, in other circumstances would not give much attention, and dismiss them as coincidences.
Like any respectable wizard, he decided to ignore the offer of having Divination classes, which addressed such issues, for a discipline with some use for his education, and therefore didn't know what to think about it.
It was with resignation that he began reviewing the mental list of books he had in the store, trying to remember if they had some volumes that would allow him to crash course the subject.
First, it had been the small jolt they interchanged when he touched her that morning, then, the strange dream that night. He couldn't ignore the relationship that he unconsciously had made between the girl from the dream and the woman at his side, and finally the terrible déjà vu when he sent Ginny away and had pulled the logbook in order to review what she had written, and seemed to recognise the handwriting.
That night, his Frankenstein volume was again at risk of touching the dirty surface of his plate, because the feeling had persisted for hours, and Tom could not understand why since he was sure that he had never crossed paths with her.
It was absolutely ridiculous to be considering coincidences as something important, Tom gave credit to prophecies, there was more than enough evidence on the subject, but dreams and déjà vus? Ridiculous!
He was only able to rest when he lost himself in the middle of his books.
'Ginevra, who was she?' He took a sip of tea, the liquid almost cold, then leant to the side and put two fingers on the top of the book where she continued to work. "Please try to write with a more readable handwriting." He said making her huff with surprise.
"Are you saying my handwriting is bad?" Ginny asked, looking at him with some incredulity.
"What? Of course not." Tom straightened on his bench and frowned. "I'm just asking for you to do it because this book is part of the store's archive, if one needs to consult it in the future, it is important that they can easily read what we write."
'The nerve' Ginny thought to turn the pages to read the name of the next object that she had to add to the index. Her letter contrasted with Tom's for not any good reason, with printed letters mixed with cursive ones, it was a disaster, but it was not that unreadable. Not everyone could have the flawless letter that only someone who had learned to write in the '30s could have, she thought with a pang of a bad mood, and he had never complained before.
Tom drank the rest of his tea with a big gulp and started to record the orders in the new logbook, that immediately stored themselves on the shelf behind him as he finished. With Ginny at his side, he could not use that part of the counter to work, and it made him remember that he still had not decided what tasks he should give her.
Tom also did not know if Borgin had heard that his partner had hired him an assistant instead of the person they needed to assist customers and suppliers in other countries.
Borgin's wife should be having their baby very soon and probably would not be pleased to hear that her husband would have to keep the trips abroad instead of adopting a relatively normal work schedule.
He wondered if she would confront Burke.
The last time Burke made a stupid decision that had affected her plans, Mrs Borgin had come to the store in person and caught Burke and Tom in the kitchen, and she proceeded to yell at Burke at the top of her lungs the moment she stepped on the kitchen's floor.
It had been hilarious.
It had been the event of the month, and it had been with some sacrifice that Tom had left the kitchen with his dinner and finished eating on his couch at the attic.
The store did not have shelves as the only way to show their products, it also had a considerable number of glass cabinets, and it was on those that Tom finally found a job for Ginny. The contents of the cabinets should not have been touched for some years; at least he never touched them except to take something off to a client. Those objects were usually somewhat dangerous or simply too much delicate and expensive, to remove; clean and rearrange the cabinets would be a slow process that would require a lot of attention, and it would certainly keep her busy and away from him and the customers for a few weeks.
When he finished what he was doing, he informed Ginny of her new routine, she would continue to make the index as he processed the orders and prepared the letters for the customers, and when he was done, she would begin to organise the cabinets.
Ginny was not particularly enthusiastic about cleaning things, but Tom couldn't blame her, after all, keeping the warehouse and the store was not something that he was particularly excited as well, but besides being a task that had to be done, it helped pass the time.
Burke had come and gone with the letters and parcels to send to their customers, but seized a moment in between to say that according to one of his informants in the Ministry, something big was going to happen, no one knew what, but they should be prepared.
Tom no longer had fingers to count the number of important events that had never happened, and so he limited himself to just nod and agree with everything Burke said, waiting for him to away so that he could back to work.
Tom allowed Ginny to leave early for lunch and she disappeared into the green flames towards the Leaking Cauldron, and he decided to take advantage of his lunch hour to study, so he closed the store and took a sandwich with him to the attic.
When Ginny arrived for the afternoon, Tom had already prepared a cloth, a bucket and a pair of leather gloves so she would not have to touch any object with her bare hands and run the risk of being cursed, or worse.
"Why can't I do this with magic?" Ginny asked after emptying the first cabinet.
"You can use magic, but then there wouldn't be anything else for you to do once you were done." Tom had stopped beside her with an armful of books.
"Unlike other stores, this time of the year is usually quite slow, since everyone starts to focus on buying Christmas gifts, and our offer doesn't really fit into the festive spirit." Ginny stopped rubbing a particularly difficult spot and looked down at Tom raising her eyebrows. "I can't argue that." She said with a smile that matched Tom's and then he continued to walk to the back of the store with his books.
The rest of the day went smoothly, and that night Tom was finally able to finish reading Frankenstein.
Ginny was pleased with how the day had gone, the work wasn't anything special and gave her plenty of time to think about what she could do to go back home. She had not been able to decide what to write on the letter to Dumbledore, but it was not something that could be rushed.
The wrong word and everything could go very, very bad.
The following day ran in a similar way and the subsequent was the same, as well as the other after that.
There was the beginning of a routine settling in.
Ginny began to understand why people had felt that Tom had a promising future, he had not been less than polite and nice with her in those four days, and if Ginny did not know whom he was, Tom would have left a good first impression.
They had not properly spoken during those days, since Ginny spent more time balancing on the leader half inside the glass cabinets, and Tom didn't look very open to talking while processing the orders that arrived in the morning, the only time they were close to each other. Then he would spend the rest of the time walking between the warehouse and the store's front, organising things and moving them around.
Ginny had some trouble accepting the idea that Tom Riddle could do that kind of manual work, but now, she no longer felt so shocked when he passed by her with just the vest he wore over his shirt and his sleeves rolled up, while embracing a box or books, wand almost falling from his pocket.
He was not the Tom she remembered from the diary, but he definitely was not Lord Voldemort.
He was just Tom Riddle, an employee of a store with doubtful reputation, that was probably still deciding what to do with the rest of his life.
She could not deny she was starting to feel some curiosity about whom he really was.
Ginny was putting the supplies she had used during the day in the warehouse and turned to see Tom lock the store's door and felt his gaze follow her has she walked to the fireplace to get back to the Cauldron.
"Ginevra, Burke asked me to confirm if you will accept the guest room." He said making her embrace the small pot containing the Floo powder against her, with a sigh.
"Yes, I will accept the room" Ginny nodded. "It makes no sense to pay for a room when I can live here without charge."
Tom walked closer to the fireplace and rested is arms over the back of the armchair. "If all the decisions we make on our lives were as easy to make as financial ones, our lives would be much more enjoyable." He said with an understanding nod and a smile. "I only accepted to live here because I could have the entire attic, but you will not stick around long enough for that isn't, Ginevra?"
Ginny recognised the trap in his question and smiled. "True, these issues are always very direct and always have a positive or negative response, not something in the middle. I will bring my stuff Monday. Have a good weekend, Tom" She said throwing the powder at the fire and entering the green flames.
It was with surprise that Ginny faced Albus Dumbledore when she emerged from the fireplace at the Leaking Cauldron. The wizard was a few steps from her, trying to clean his clothes from ashes while talking to a small laughing witch.
Dumbledore feeling observed looked at Ginny and smiled.
Ginny, feeling the flames rise behind her, sign that someone was coming, advanced to him with outstretched hands and a smile because she didn't know what else to do. She had planned to write him a letter, but now she couldn't ignore the opportunity to personally speak with the wizard.
Dumbledore looked at her confused, but received her hands, noting the force with which she holds his. "Professor Dumbledore, I need to talk with you, in private." Dumbledore continued to look at her confused but smiled, a polite way to ask her to continue and inform him of what she wanted. Ginny looked at the witch who looked back at her quite offended and walked away, leaving them alone. "I arrived a week ago from 2000." She said with a whisper that forced Dumbledore to bend down to her. "My name is Ginevra Weasley, my parents are Arthur and Molly Weasley, and I really need your help to get back home." Ginny looked around to make sure no one had heard her and returned her attention to Dumbledore.
Albus Dumbledore did not say anything, merely put a hand on Ginny's arm and pulled her with him to Tom, to whom he asked for a private room for dinner. Tom motioned to one of his waiters to take them to one of the upstairs rooms as well as a menu with the food options for the day. Once inside, Dumbledore took his time to strip off the his cloak and then his coat, arrange them on the back of the chair and reading the menu, making Ginny become increasingly nervous, and she couldn't remember what was appropriate to say at that moment, what was she supposed to say to someone that was dead.
"2000?" He said at last. "And what's life like in 2000?"
Ginny froze and looked at the hands she twisted on her lap, she had spent the week trying to decide what to tell him in her letter, and now she had no time to do anything about it. "We're still in the aftermath of a war." She finally said. "I work for an organisation that was partly responsible for the fall of the next dark wizard that was trying to cleanse the world."
When she looked at the wizard before her, he remained silent and Ginny was relieved that Dumbledore didn't question anything about her words, he just expected her to continue.
Dumbledore probably had a good idea of who would be the next dark wizard anyway.
Feeling encouraged, Ginny explained more details about who she was, and then went into what she was doing on that fateful morning and took out the box that contained the pocket watch and put it on the table, in the space between their dishes.
Dumbledore took the box and opened it slowly, putting the cover near his tableware and took the watch. He turned it over several times between his fingers, watching carefully the decoration on the back. "The story you just told me… Miss Weasley..." He hesitated on her last name. "It's extraordinary, and this watch, I think I know what it is but I must confirm it when I return to Hogwarts."
"Do you think you can fix it?" Ginny started to feel very hopeful.
"I will only be sure when I test its spells." Said Dumbledore again and at that moment Tom came in with the food and to see if everything was in order with the room.
When he left, they began to eat in silence, and Ginny could only find the courage to speak when they were almost finished. She was beginning to feel quite shaken by the fact that she was sharing a meal with someone who had died, she probably would not be so controlled if it was Fred who sat before her. "What do you think it is, please?" She pleaded.
"Well, it's obvious that it enables its user to travel through time, but it's not a time-turner, I mean, is not an object to travel conventionally through time. As I have said, I will have to analyse the spells to confirm, but I believe this watch lets you go to a particular day in the past and come back the same day you left, unlike normal time-turners that are used to go back at most a few days, and the person is required to follow the course of the past to return to the day they travelled.
"Do you think it belonged to someone in particular?" Ginny asked frowning, accepting Dumbledore explanation for what had happened to her last week and feeling relieved by not having to live the next 50 years of History day-by-day, at least that was what she expected now. "It has a large 'S' in the back."
"I've never seen this watch even though I have heard of it, I believe it belonged to a Joshua Smithson, a wizard that lived in the last century and eventually died in Azkaban, after successfully changing the past of some important Ministry employees, I believe he led to the death of some people, by not allowing them to even exist. But no one ever found his watch."
After a moment of silence, he continued.
"I understand that on the day you started this... little adventure, I've already died." Dumbledore finally said, making Ginny look at him with her mouth open as he began to laugh. "Do not worry Ginny, I know that I will die someday. I just need to know something about my life, and I think it won't cause any problems." Ginny continued to look at him startled and sat up on her chair as he leant forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Do I have my own card on the Chocolate Frogs?"
Ginny blinked several times and shook her head, smiling in the end. "Yes professor, you will get your own card. I think that between me and my brothers, we have a set of 27 cards with your image."
Dumbledore stood up and began to put back his clothes. "Then I will certainly die a very happy man, after all, one of the highest honours that a wizard can expect in his life, is to appear on one of those cards" He adjusted the cloak and smiled at Ginny as he put the watch in the box and then on an inside pocket. "Don't worry about the watch, I will try to fix this and send it back to you as soon as possible, please focus on not attracting attention to yourself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I promised an old friend a glass of firewhisky; please don't hesitate to write to me if you need anything." He was about to leave the room when he turned back again. "To where should I send my owl?"
"To the owl's post here in the Diagon Alley, I rented a box for the time being. It is easier, in case I have to move somewhere."
"Of course, then goodnight Ginny." Dumbledore smiled and closed the door behind his back.
Ginny plopped down on her chair and looked at the fire crackling in the fireplace across the small room.
That encounter with Dumbledore had gone better than expected, but at the same time, it was embarrassing. She felt better now that she was done with it and felt lucky to have found him that night, now she could pass the weekend worrying about going to live with Tom Riddle.
It was with resignation that she bewitched the inside of one shopping bag, and began to put all of her clothes inside. She did not feel motivated with the move and began again to question her idea of living at the Borgin & Burkes.
Dumbledore had had no difficulty in perceiving that he was dead, would Tom not notice that she knew him? He shouldn't be so kind as Dumbledore if he found out that she knew more than she was telling.
She should just move to someplace in the south of France, near the mountains, where the weather was warm and she could have a garden to keep her distracted while she waited for Dumbledore to send her the watch.
But she had to try to do something to fix the future, she thought dropping her new high heels inside the bag.
"No travelling bag Ginevra?" Tom asked Monday morning, referring to the paper bag that Ginny was carrying in her hand.
"Apparently not…" She smiled at him and started to head toward the stairs. "You don't have to come, I remember where the room is." She said when he began to follow her.
She slowly climbed the stairwell, feeling the creaking wood under her feet, thinking of morbid things made of wood, like coffins.
She opened the door to her new room, everything was as the day that Tom had shown it to her, everything but a door she hadn't previously noticed, but didn't hide anything more exciting than a small bathroom as she found out when she picked inside.
No panic room for her.
Taking her wand, Ginny placed the bag in the middle of the floor and touched it with the tip, making her clothes fly off the bag and into her wardrobe, then she sat on the bed, a hand on her neck and a sigh, feeling like this was the worse idea ever.
Even worse than going after Kevedo alone.
When she returned to the store, Tom was already working and ignored her, so Ginny merely sat on her seat and watched Tom until he eventually stopped to ask what was she wanted. "I don't have anything to do."
"Oh... hum… let me think. I suppose you can empty the shop window, then we can choose some objects from around the store for display." Ginny looked at him with raised eyebrows, as if she had just realised something he was not aware. "What?"
"Nothing! I'll get right to it!" Ginny disappeared in the warehouse, thinking about how she would be the one responsible for the display she saw in that fatidical morning.
Ginny was sitting inside the shop window trying to restore some pieces of the wood frame when Tom peered through the small door on the side. "Ginevra, it's time for lunch, Borgin is expecting me at the Cauldron, he's passing through town and..." Tom stopped talking when he saw the frightened look on Ginny's face.
He had automatically extended a hand to help her come out and she had accepted it, now she had one foot flat on the floor, one hand resting on the door frame, and the other between his fingers, and was not breathing.
It was the first time they touched since the day they first meet, and Tom was not thinking about that when he reached his hand to help her, but Ginny obviously was. "What is it?" He asked confused, then suddenly remembering her odd behaviour from the day he had first meet her and their first afternoon of work.
"Nothing…" Ginny removed her hand from his with a twitch. "Just go and don't be late for lunch." She passed around him and took the pot with the Floo powder from the fireplace and held it out in Tom's direction when he disappeared in the green flames, Ginny let out a groan and sat down in an armchair with her head resting on her knees.
He had not said anything, but he was clearly thinking about how weird she was.
Ginny had not reacted in the best way to his touch, and Tom had done nothing extraordinary, anyone else would have done the same, but she hasn't been able to control her reaction.
The idea of touching him made her very uncomfortable, since before her adventure to the past. The last time he had touched her, he had almost killed her. She let out a big sigh and got up, there was nothing she could do to about what had happened and she only had an hour to go through the kitchen's cabinets and find something to make for lunch.
She kept herself busy in the kitchen during the lunch hour, cooking, eating and reading a copy of Frankenstein someone had left on the table, when it was time to open the store she went down to the ground floor and sat on her stool behind the counter, waiting for Tom.
After the first fifteen minutes passed Ginny convoked the book from the kitchen. When half an hour passed, she began to seriously question what to do in relation to his absence, and when an hour passed, Ginny gave up and returned to the kitchen. Getting bored really fast, Ginny returned to the store and spent some time working on the shop window; when she stepped outside to see how it looked she was approached by an old wizard, who complained about the store being closed all the time and how irresponsible the new generations were for fifteen minutes, making Ginny shake in the cold weather until she was able to send him away and get inside.
Not feeling motivated to clean anything else and finding the empty store to creepy to work alone, Ginny returned to the kitchen and started making dinner. She began to feel quite annoyed at being left alone without any warning, but then, she was also relieved to be able to spend the afternoon in solitude, if she was lucky Tom would only come at night when she was asleep, or even on the following day. It would be perfect!
It was with this hope and a huge amount of boredom from being alone that Ginny lost herself in front of the stove.
The kitchen was flooded with the voices of The Andrews Sisters singing Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy when Tom arrived, the volume was nearly at its maximum and he found Ginny sitting at the table with her back to the door, her knees were resting on the table's side while she balanced on the chair's back legs. She was focused on the book he had left on the table and didn't hear him call her, Tom looked around the kitchen and realised she had been cooking when he noticed a pot of tea and a cake.
Ginny almost fell back when Tom pulled out the chair next to her and sat with a mug of tea and a slice of her cake. She got up and turned off the radio and leant against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can't believe it!" She said.
"What?" Asked Tom, focused on his slice of cake.
"That after living me alone for hours without any warming, almost scaring me to death, you have the nerve to steal my cake," Ginny said with a raised eyebrow and a small smile, watching him eat.
"I called you several times, next time don't listen to the radio so loud, and besides I would take a slice, either way, I love this cake." Tom was still focused on the food in front of him and so he didn't saw Ginny smirk. The cake wasn't the result of her feeling bored, that had been the four glasses of wine she had. Ginny remembered that Tom had listed some of his favourite dishes during Christmas day when she was at Hogwarts, and she had decided to test whether he had told her the truth or not.
Apparently, he had been honest.
"Well, okay then. But what happened?"
"Mr Borgin wanted me to go talk to a customer, a particularly difficult guy that needed some incentive to sell us a rare manuscript."
"Incentive? Like… a violent type of incentive?" Ginny asked letting her arms fall and held the counter, feeling apprehensive.
"You mean if Borgin sent me to curse the old man?" Tom turned towards her with a frown, but she didn't say anything and Tom interpreted that as a yes, turning his attention back his plate, he continued. "This store, despite the nature of its business, does not use any violence in its transactions, or I would ever be inclined in participate in such things. I'm not a violent person Ginevra, it's not my nature."
"Oh..." Ginny didn't know what to think about that, she didn't know if he had ever killed someone just for the thrill, she did know he liked to manipulate and play with people, but that wasn't something she would consider violent.
"I am sorry for your disappointment."
Ginny rolled her eyes, she was not surprised of course, if the Borgin & Burkes would use any method relatively violent it would have been forced to close, and if Tom was part of such things, it would have had some kind of impact in the store, Dumbledore would know, and everyone would know about it in the future.
Tom finished eating and got up with the cup of tea on his hand and watched her for a few moments, his blue eyes expressionless.
"Thanks for the cake." He finally said slightly lifting the mug as a token of appreciation. "See you tomorrow."
Ginny followed him with her gaze as he crossed the short distance between the table and the hallway, his steps becoming lighter as he moved away from her.
She still felt strange around Tom, just about to run away if he did any sudden movement, but this little test went better than she expected and Ginny went to sleep with some confidence, trying to remember more information he had shared with her during their interaction through the diary, something that she could test without stirring suspicion.
"Tom? Tom!?" Ginny was at the base of the stairs looking up at Tom's closed attic door with a grey apron around her waist and a kitchen cloth hanging from its pocket. "Tom, are you awake?" The door suddenly opened and Tom looked alarmed at her, Ginny started to blush when she saw him only wearing a white shirt open halfway to his chest, wet hair and a towel on his hand, signs that he had just come out of the shower. 'So, evil wizards also shower...' Ginny thought, trying to diverge her attention from him.
"I'm making pancakes. Dou you want some?" Ginny asked with a smile, putting a hand on her hip.
"You called me like the store was being robbed just to ask if I wanted pancakes?" Tom looked incredulous.
"Hum… Yeah." Said Ginny increasing her smile, but Tom was still looking at her oddly and started again to dry his hair as he thought, making Ginny stop a line of thought before it got weird and focusing on the fact that It was very likely that nobody had ever cooked anything for him.
"Why not? I'll be right down." He said closing the door.
When Tom came down Ginny was already sitting at the table waiting for him, he put his coat on the chair's back and pulled his waistcoat down as he sat, watching the dish in front of him. "How can you cook two of my favourite things in less than twenty-four hours?"
"Luck?" Tom merely smiled in her direction and started to eat. "Are they okay?"
"They are very good," Tom said when he finished chewing. "I think the last time I ate them I was still at Hogwarts."
"Oh... That's a long time ago, no? I heard that the food at Hogwarts is very good."
"And it's true Ginevra. It was fantastic and I think that is what I most miss from that castle, besides the library."
"What do you usually eat for breakfast?" Ginny asked, smiling at him.
"Nothing as elaborate." He said slightly hitting his fork on the edge of the plate. "An apple and tea, sometimes I go to the Cauldron if I'm feeling like having some proper English breakfast."
"That's pretty sad..." Ginny said in a playful tone that made him laugh, she wasn't surprised that he wouldn't be able to cook anything besides potions.
Tom and Ginny spent the rest of the day finishing the work on the shop window, and when a large owl entered the store and dropped a letter in front of Tom, he actually warned her that he had to return to visit the previous day's client.
Ginny was lying on her bed reading Frankenstein when she heard Tom arrive in the kitchen, she followed the sound of his footsteps in the hallway with her eyes, fixing them at the door when she heard him stop near it, and then walk the remaining of the hallway and up the stairs to the attic.
The next morning, Ginny didn't cook anything more elaborate than tea, since she didn't want to give the idea that she would be cooking every day, it was enough to be cleaning the store, she didn't want to add another boring chore to that. She was not his maid. "How did it go?"
Tom looked at her over the newspaper. "Well, I got the deal and some extras, both Burke and Borgin will go to the client's house to complete the business," Ginny smiled back at him, he looked proud of himself, by doing not only what he was supposed but more and bringing more profits to the store.
During the following days they returned to their normal routine, Ginny didn't feel weird by starting conversations with him during meals as she did if she had to touch him, the silences they shared were almost similar to those shared with her brothers at home, and no longer had that awkward atmosphere that made her anxious.
Ginny was beginning to miss her brothers and parents, missing her bedroom and her meetings in the Order, but especially she missed Harry, his hugs and kisses, although she their kind of break up.
She wondered how much time passed for them, would they been waiting for her during the rest of the day, wondering why she was taking so long to be back? Would they have to give her as missing person? Would Kevedo be caught and interrogated? Or every day that passed here, was just a fraction of a moment and when Ginny returned to her time, she would be back to the store's floor, and a quite angry Kevedo would be waiting for her with a wand in his hand, ready to curse her?
She had taken advantage of Tom's last absence from the store to go to the owl's mail post to see if Dumbledore had written, she would sometimes get anxiety stabs just by thinking about the watch that had brought her there, worrying about Dumbledore failing to help and fix the watch. She also wondered about the reasons Kevedo could have to look for that small thing.
Certainly, he didn't want an object that would allow him to freely travel to any point in time to just see the hours, there had to be something bigger behind, something connected to Lord Voldemort. Did he leave instructions on how to be brought back? Without the Horcruxes Voldemort was definitely dead, did Kevedo intended to go back in time to get one of the Horcruxes?
Ginny looked over the cabinet she was cleaning to Tom, who was on the other side of the store speaking with a client, looking friendly and smiling. It was moments like those that made her sometimes wonder about how could it be the same wizard; how could he have done all those things in the future.
Feeling observed, he looked at her but quickly returned his attention back to his client.
Ginny still hadn't decided what to do about him, and the weight that any decision she would make could have in the future frightened her, for example, she knew that her parents had become closer when they had joined the Order, and this closeness resulted in marriage. If she prevented Tom Riddle from becoming Lord Voldemort, would her parents fall in love anyway? Could that be like, a fixed point in time and they would marry besides never entering the Order? There were real chances that if she did anything, she would prevent her own existence!
Lost in thought, Ginny was withdrawing the various objects from the cabinet on autopilot, she didn't even realise that Tom had accompanied the client to the fireplace or when he had disappeared in the warehouse. So it was with surprise that she felt the teeth of the human skull with considerably large canines she was holding, pierce her leather gloves and bury its fangs on her flesh, causing her to fall to the ground while screaming in pain.
When Tom found Ginny, the blood had begun to soak her skirt and she was trying to force open the skull's jaw. Lowering himself to the ground, Tom recognised the skull as belonging to a vampire, those creatures, even after dead tended to keep some nasty reflexes and he had completely forgotten that they had one of those in the store.
"Let me see!" He said in an authoritative tone, but Ginny ignored him and kept trying to open the jaw, but the more she struggled, the greater was the force exerted by the skull on her hand.
Ginny squealed in surprise when he grabbed her legs and pulled her towards him, making her give him access to her hand and the skull. "Tom, don't! Please don't!" Ginny screaming when he pulled the skull to him, while she tried to pull her hand back to her, causing the skull to bite even further, making her feel as if half of her hand was being torn and couldn't help but to press her forehead against his shoulder, clenching her teeth. Tom put his hand inside the skull and pushed, releasing one side of the jaw and immediately relieving pressure on Ginny's hand, then he freed the other side of the bone.
Ginny had stopped breathing and exhaled against is neck when he pulled the skull's fangs from her hand, two lines of blood dropping to her clothes.
"I'm sorry Ginevra, I completely forgot that we had this thing." Said Tom, but Ginny was not looking at him, she rose her head from his shoulder, the same one that she had touched on the Chamber of Secrets and was trying to completely focus on her hand, eyes wide open. "Ginevra?" She merely nodded her head negatively and hold one of the shelves beside her to get up, the pain in her hand was irradiating to the shoulder, she had never had so much pain in her life and could hardly breathe.
Tom put an arm around her waist and with the other hand held the forearm of her injured hand. He could feel her getting even tenser, but also felt her lean on his arms for support while he led her through the store, leaving a trail of blood behind them.
They sat on the benches behind the counter and he began to pull the glove, which led Ginny to try to take her hand from his hold.
"Let me see Ginevra, if we don't take the glove off I can't see the severity of the bite or stop the bleeding." He said grabbing her wrist. Ginny stared at his blue eyes and nodded, Tom didn't need any more incentive to start working.
Calling a clean kitchen cloth from the first floor, Tom wiped Ginny's hand, the bleeding was beginning to stop and that was a good sign. He took a box with some potions and bandages from a shelf inside the counter and summoned a bowl with clean water. "Looks like we are lucky..." he said cleaning her hand with the wet cloth. "It's not that bad."
"Not that bad?" Ginny echoed in a whisper, now that the shock began to leave her, she felt increasingly angry. "That thing almost ate half of my hand!" She said raising her voice.
"It could have been worse; you know?" Tom had taken the lid off one of the bottles and began to apply some of the liquid to the wounds, making Ginny inhale when it began to simmer. "If the skull was recent we probably would have gone to St. Mungo's, as you must know the poison takes several years to disappear from the inside of the vampire's teeth and the treatment is much more painful than its bite." Tom bandaged Ginny's hand and made sure it was secure, then turned his attention to the other hand who was still involved in the leather glove.
"I can take my own glove, Tom." But he ignored her and pulled the glove slowly from her right hand, gradually revealing her pale skin, then hold her hand and turned it over in his.
"I just want to make sure that no-"
"Riddle!" The door opened suddenly, almost snatching the bell from its holder and making them jump at the unexpected sound. "Great job with the old Johnson! You can count on…" Burke stopped halfway looking at them with surprise.
Tom pulled his hands into his lap and Ginny put her wounded hand to her chest, covering it with the other, Burke followed Ginny movements and opened his eyes in shock when he saw the blood, and then followed its trail to the floor until it disappeared around the corner of a bookshelf.
"What happened?" He asked approaching the counter.
"I forgot we had a vampire skull in the store," Tom answered dryly, pulling down his waistcoat and noticing that he also had some bloodstains on his clothes. "But everything is fine and tomorrow Ginevra will have her hand as new."
"Well, at least that..." Burke looked back at the floor, the blood was beginning to dry. But none of you broke the vampire's head, right?" He said disappearing behind the shelves and cabinets. Tom turned away from Ginny with a sigh and followed Borgin, leaving her holding her hand.
Burke spent the rest of the day in the store, arguing with Tom about the products that the new client would send to the store, potential buyers, and another client who had been collecting some objects that had belonged to Grindelwald and seemed available to talk about a potential sale.
The conversation continued in the kitchen and Ginny, feeling rather excluded by the nature of the topics not being part of her responsibilities, besides that her hand and began to feel very sore, she decided to make a sandwich and disappear into her room.
Ginny was sleeping for several hours when a sudden explosion woke her, followed by a body hitting a wall. Half asleep, Ginny left the room pulling the pants she was wearing on the fatal morning she time travelled before they slipped down her hips. She ran up the attic stairs and knock on the door a few times before realising that she was in front of Tom's door and not in front of Fred and George's room.
Swallowing hard, Ginny knocked again and called his name, but she didn't hear any response, she knocked again and this time, she put her ear on the door, trying to hear something. Turning the knob, she heard the latch open, but the door didn't move, she used some more strength but the door insisted on not moving, something should have fallen against it.
She insisted and the door opened a little, and the sound of something falling attracted her attention to the ground, where Tom's hand rested against the floorboards, palm up and with the fingers half-closed.
Swearing, Ginny pushed again, she could not be able to open it but at least she had to be able to create a space to pass and enter the room. The door closed with a crash behind her and Tom fell to his side, his head resting on his arm.
Ginny, looking at the chaos around the room, struggled a few moments about she should just drag him from the door to be able to leave to her room, or if she should help.
Obviously he had not died that night because if he had there would be no Lord Voldemort in the future, and anyway, he had helped her with the skull so... With a sigh, she took the wand from her back pocket and raised him off the ground with a spell, trying not to trip over several books that were scattered on the floor, she took him to the bed and dropped it on the mattress a little harder than she had planned.
Satisfied with her work she looked around, that half of the room didn't seem as destroyed as the other, one of the curtains that separated the room was torn and there were some papers scattered on the floor, but on the other side, the chair seemed to be broken, the books had fallen from the shelf, there were papers all over the floor.
Ginny walked to the desk and put it upright with a spell and then walked around it to see how the chair was, she found the cauldron that had exploded, still dripping some of the potions to the floor.
She decided to ignore the cauldron and the unknown potion, whatever it was, it was better that she left it for him to take care off since it was certainly dangerous. She stepped back, deciding it was best to go back to her room, betting on the fact that if he woke up and needed something he would call, and that was when she felt her foot pressing against a book, but it was not a book she saw when she looked down and lifted her foot.
Slowly lowering herself to hold the black notebook, she swallowed hard.
It had been so long since she had had it on her hands, that she had forgotten the sensation of its cold cover, and the heaviness of its pages.
She opened Tom's diary on the first page and his name was written there, still very visible since he had written it only a few years ago instead of decades. Leafing through it, Ginny opened the diary and put her hand on one of the pages, she could feel it pulsing with magic, so obvious and loud; the magic that held his soul in the pages seemed to call her.
Looking around and without thinking about what she was doing, Ginny found a feather still with ink that Tom was probably using before his potion exploded and he was thrown against the door. She securely it between her fingers, and rested its tip on the empty paper.
'Hello Tom' she wrote with a firm handwriting, which she almost didn't recognise. The letters disappeared and a new sentence appeared under the place where hers had been. 'My Ginny, I've missed you.'
Ginny dropped the feather and covered her mouth that she had opened in horror. How was it possible? How could he have written that? Tell her that he missed her! They would only meet in the future, many decades after that moment, how could it be?
Consumed by the diary, her gaze fixed on the page that had returned to its original emptiness, Ginny didn't realise that the real Tom had woken.
He was sitting on the bed and slowly putting a hand to his head and looking around, the last thing he remembered was to be taking some notes about the potion he was making and suddenly being pushed against the nearest wall. He was about to let himself fall back on the bed when he noticed Ginny, suddenly understanding why he was no longer on the floor. She had her back to him and seemed to hold something in her hands. With a bad feeling, he rose from the bed, turning an arm to help dissipate the pain on his shoulder, and walked towards Ginny.
She suddenly turned and pulled the diary against her chest, for much of Tom's horror, but he didn't say anything, he couldn't let her know that the empty notebook she was holding had any importance to him.
"By Merlin's beard Tom! You scared me! And you shouldn't be standing!" Ginny said startled but with a smile. "I had a very similar notebook to this when I was young, that I used as a diary, I guess I got lost on my thoughts and didn't hear you coming" She put the notebook on the desk and move towards Tom, pushing him back into the bed, still smiling. "So what happened? I heard this explosion, you were on the floor against the door and I was barely able to open it!" Tom sat down when the back of his legs hit the mattress, trying to make sense of her fast words. "I hope that potion is not dripping to the floor below... Tom?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you okay?" Ginny bent down, grabbing Tom's face on her hands, forcing his blue eyes to focus on her brown ones. Leaning forward to let her fingers run through his hair, she gently massaged his scalp looking for some fractures. Tom's eyes were closed when she took her hands away from his hair.
"I am fine." He finally said, opening his eyes. "I think I hit the door too hard."
"Well, okay then. So if you don't need anything I'll go back to bed, but if you change your mind please call me." Tom nodded and watched her leave and closed the door behind her.
When the sound of her footsteps disappeared on the hall, he got up and crossed the room to the desk and grabbed his diary. Flipping its pages several times to see if she had done anything, but other than the first page where he had written his name, the others were still empty.
However, there was something about Ginny holding the diary that disturbed him, and it was something more than the simple fact that she had held his Horcrux on her hands.