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b Disclaimer: If I did own the Potterverse (which I don't), I would be swimming in money and ducks right now. /b
i A/N: Okay, here's the third installment of what I had decided will be a 4-parter. However, due to a sudden burst of inspiration, this might become a 5-parter after all. Enjoy :)
A/N2: Okay, I know this came out a little later than expected, but I got infected by an illness called Strap throat or something... Gave me a mouth, throat, lips and tongue full of ulcers and a high fever to boot. Plus, I felt crappy for days. So your brave author battled his illness tirelessly for a week till he was better again to write for you :x /i
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i b Hello, Ginny Weasley, my name is Tom Riddle... /b
The words had barely faded back into the paper before Ginny's quill was speeding across the rough parchment pages once more. A look of wonder on her face, she sat back as she waited for her new found friend to reply. Harry stared as another string of words began appearing in his charge's book. Watching the silent exchange between Ginny and the diary, the alarm bells in Harry's head systematically went off as the time passed. Not only was the girl answering more and more personal questions without hesitation, but Harry's magical senses had detected something changing within his charge. He had to do something, he couldn't let her fall into the clutches of whatever was contained in the diary... loosening the hold on his mind, he focused on the link they shared before entering the forefront of Ginny's mind. The emotions her felt on behalf of Ginny now felt a hundred times stronger as he felt an unnatural calm descend over him. Something was definitely wrong. Launching himself to all extremes of her body, Harry found a trickle of unknown magic entering through the hand which rested lightly on the diary as she continued to write. Focusing on the thread of magic, he began following it up through Ginny as it wound its way to her cerebrum. He opened his senses fully.
/i The vile magic snaked its way past her heart, sending tendrils to wrap around it. i
As the thread grew closer to her head, it grew in thickness until it was as wide as a wand. Now that it was larger, Harry could see the colours mirrored from deep within the thread. He shuddered.
/i Mossy greens and poisonous browns melded seamlessly on the filmy surface of the thread, even viler impurities writhing beneath the surface. i
He dove deeper in still, feeling the magic pulsing about him, as he tried to sever the connection. He sent forth all his magic before him, hoping to gain a sense of the Darkness' weakness. The colour of the thread had deepened considerably, now a putrid shade of slate. Everything seemed to slow as Harry's magic reached Ginny's center. Where her core was supposed to be...
/i The remnants of a passionate crimson fire shrieked desperately, sending shards weaving through the blackness to find Alvaro's soft green web.
Even as they burst forth, the fire seems to dwindle into mere embers. The fiery rays squirmed, and were overwhelmed. i
With the blackness, came silence. Cold, alien, silence. Time seemed irrelevant in the void, as Harry floated in limbo. The nothingness was broken as the unnatural voice spoke inside Harry's mind. /i
b I was left alone, and she, without protection. My magic had failed, and so had I. It is my fault she bears the scars of her youth, and it is your duty to remove them. I have forced myself to see what she had endured, and I feel you must as well if you want to heal her. /b Before Harry could acknowledge his words, the blackness dissolved and Harry found himself looking at something blue.
i Clouds drifted serenely across the sky. Yes. The sky. Inside the castle. Something was wrong. Harry/ Ginny stood up. The last thing he remembered was writing back to Tom's message. /i Where am I? i Standing up, Harry brushed the grass off his robe before taking a look around. He was standing in an empty meadow, by a small grove of pine trees. A small stream trickled past on his left, winding its way from over a rise to the west. Rays of glorious sunlight danced upon the merry stream, causing the crystal-clear water to sparkle joyfully. Feeling a sudden urge, Harry breathed in the soft, fresh air of the meadow and headed towards the winding shape of the stream. Kneeling upon the pleasantly warm turf of the bank, Harry reached in, watching as his hand broke the surface of the icy water. He heard voices. Almost familiar, but... somehow changed...
They sang a song of hope and happiness, a light and joyful tune. They spoke of untroubled times, of innocence and play. Their voices raced in crescendo, calling upon power and passion to join the melodious cacophony. The rising emotions and conflicts of teen hood; the battles of mind and murder which shook the soul. The uncertainty, the inadequacy, the insecurity; the feeling of being... lost. At last, the story completed itself, with a climax of... silence. Pure, unadulterated silence. Perfection, calm, acceptance. The melody of still water, the voice of a tree and the song of sunlight.
...and Ginny knew she would be at peace with herself someday. Harry lifted his hand, letting water droplets cupped in his palm trickle slowly back to join its fellows. An odd ray of pink light caught a droplet as it fell, casting pale shadows upon the ground. Harry looks up suddenly. The sun no longer hung at ease in the sky, the air was no longer still or fresh. As the fiery orb descended across the sky, the light faded steadily, sending dark shadows creeping along the ground. The atmosphere grew cold and the water grew dark; Harry shivered as a figure appeared in the half light. His shadow slithered before him, unnaturally dark and dense.
His eyes were the first thing she noticed, cold and grey, nearly translucent. His hair was black and parted neatly to one side, his robes simple and unadorned. His sharp features stood out against his pale face, and moved with... haunting grace. He was handsome, he supposed, in a cold, detached way; but his presence- it felt so wrong in this place. As his thin lips curved into an almost mocking smile, Harry gasped and staggered back, the full force of the young man's evil slamming into him in that instant. Somehow, he knew, this was not what it seemed.
"Ginevra... I am Tom, /i your friend i ," the chill in his voice was unmistakable, and Harry patted his sides desperately, looking for his wand, " /i Come Here. i " The command rang so clear, so cold across the meadow. Harry found his body obeying and was unable to do anything about it. His eyes swung frantically about, searching for some sign of salvation, but even the landscape now seemed harsh and cold. The ground was bone dry, the grass having disappeared in an instant, a network of cracks now gracing its surface; the stand of trees now loomed threateningly in the corner of his eye. The stream was not dark or shadowed, but black. Inky from it's the depths to its surface, the pure thoughts a mere memory.
" /i You cannot resist me... i " Harry stood before the teenaged Tom Riddle, feeling his cold, lifeless hands wander across his body. The rough pads of his palms ran across Ginny's hips, lightly across the stomach, to possessively grasp Ginny's soft breasts, sending disgust and pain through her whole body. Slowly, Tom moved his hands upwards, digging into her tender shoulders before almost lovingly resting them at her delicate throat.
" /i ...because, I will control you... i " The words left his lips as a mere whisper, but they echoed around in Ginny's ears unstoppably, bringing forth horrible images. As his fingers closed upon Harry's windpipe, a delicate bruise began to form under his skin.
As Harry felt the terrifying constriction of his throat, the image of the soulless grey eyes began to fade into whiteness. The white was not that of purity or hope; it was a clinical white, so bright that shadows seemed to lurk in the corners of his vision. The coldness of his body was gone, but Harry still felt the sick presence within this place, even as he realized nothing could exist here. A memory sprang forth uncalled for.
b It was summer at the Burrow. Even as the reds and oranges of autumn blanketed the grounds around the Burrow, a little girl snuck out and kicked them up again in her haste to get to the broom shed. She had left unnoticed by her mother and had soon picked the lock and retrieved her brother's Cleansweep... /b The memory began to fade, while another sprang forth.
b A little girl sat up in the wide branches of the old oak tree, sobbing as she hugged her now destroyed doll to her chest. She had managed to hex the brothers who had done it, but Amelia would never come back... /b ...and another...
b An adolescent lay upon her bed, eyes closed as she dreamt of fairy tale endings, happiness, princes and a raven-haired boy... /b The memories came out faster and faster, Harry's efforts to stop them going unheeded. Tears welled up in his eyes as the helplessness of the situation sunk in... forced to watch as someone delved into his deepest... most personal...
b ...as she watched her grandfather's cold body being lowered into the ground...
...as she brooded once upon a stormy day...
...a bedtime story by the fire...
...a mother's embrace...
...her life...
...her... /b
And he was watching.
Screaming echoed about the void, a flash of the meadow; screams filtering through from the stream... helpless, a woman screaming, screaming... /i
"HARRY!" Ginny's voice tore through the veil of memory. As the last echoes of the screaming left the room, Harry realized it had been him who had been screaming. His throat burned, and tears rolled unashamedly down his cheeks. His arms shook with the effort, uncontrollable; reminding him of his helplessness...
"Harry! What's wrong?" the love and concern in her voice filled him with warm trickling hope, calming him and steadying him. Her soft arms were wrapped tightly around him as his sobs subsided. He turned towards her, twining his arms with hers, burying his head in her neck and taking in her scent. Her soft murmuring slowed his breathing and a sense of safety descended over him. The memory of what she had endured in her first year was still clear in his mind. He looked up, with new purpose burning within him. Harry sat back on his heels and pulled Ginny into a tighter embrace. He did not answer her question.
"I'm going to kill Tom for what he did to you; and you deserve to be there to help," his voice was below a whisper, but in the silence of the room, it seemed to ring with conviction. Ginny's hazel eyes widened slightly and glistened with the memories of days gone by. The remembrance of the silent torture she had endured elicited a soft moan of fear and her breathing became deep and forced. Rubbing her back softly with his calloused hand, Harry calmed her down. b Then I propose we begin the healing. I have a way you could gain an advantage over the Dark Lord, but you need to heal Mistress before we can proceed. I will be happy to assist. /b Ginny suddenly looked straight into Harry's eyes, the smoldering anger evident in her eyes.
"First, I want to see the prophecy as you saw it. I want to understand exactly what we need to do to kill him. I also want to see how you killed dear Tom the last few times, and h-h-how you saved me," she said, her voice unwavering, "then I want to find out what Alvaro can do for us, and then...then I want to go kill i him /i ." She spoke with a passion, and her tone was fierce, and yet Harry could still hear an underlying chord of something soft and beautiful in her speech. So familiar, yet so alien. Harry put it aside for the time being. Looking over at the Pixie lying on the bed, Harry made a decision.
"Alvaro, can you show only your and Ginny's memories? Or can we enter one of mine?" the Pixie did not hesitate to give a nod of assent, causing Harry to continue, "Alright, show this to Ginny." There was barely a warning as Ginny's world faded around her, as she landed in a somewhat familiar-looking room...
i Albus Dumbledore sat across the table from Ginny, his fingers steepled habitually beneath his chin.
The sudden jerk of longing in her chest took Ginny's chest took her by surprise, but the body she resided in failed to respond to the sight of seeing the dead headmaster quite so unreactively. Instead, barely restrained fury seemed to radiate from her as the feelings of loss and guilt wracked through her entire body, clouding her senses and blinding her with the need to take out her frustration on something.
"...This pain is part of being human -" /i I don't want to be human! I want Sirius to be okay, I want to be normal! i As the thought crossed her mind, her restraint failed and she leapt to her feet. Seeing a silver instrument on a nearby table, Ginny lunged towards it, catching it in a vice.
"THEN - I - DON'T - WANT - TO - BE - HUMAN!" she roared, flinging the silver instrument across the room. The soft, flickering firelight caught the delicate instrument in the apex of its arc, throwing a myriad of colours all over the Headmaster's office, before it resumed its last flight, shattering into the opposite wall. With the soft tinkle of the shards still ringing in her ears, Ginny's mind took a back seat as she let her unbridled fury take control. After a few minutes of raging, Dumbledore somehow managed to calm her down and Ginny soon found herself entrenched in a lengthily discussion. As the feelings of guilt, sorrow and resentment began to bog her down, Dumbledore made the startling revelation about the prophecy. Ginny sat, shell-shocked, as the wizened old man strode past her, the stone basin in his arms. As the tip of his wand left the silvery vapor, a shawl-draped figure rose out of the depths.
" /i The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who had thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as an equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies... i "
Ginny fell back into the chair as the figure of Professor Trelawney dissolved back into the depths of the Pensieve. The emotional weight of what she had just heard was amazing... she was the only one who could defeat the Dark Lord... All those attempts to be normal; futile. All because of a prophecy that had been made before he had been born. Everyone was depending on him. His future had been decided long before he had even known his own name... /i
As Ginny closed her eyes in resignation, the world dissolved around her as she returned to the present. Returned to the safety of her fiancé's arms. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she held the man she loved to her, finally understanding the full weight of responsibility he carried everywhere he went. She had always understood him better than his friends or family, even better than Ron and Hermione; but she had never truly realised the extent of his emotional scarring. Tears of sorrow fled, and those of joy arrived as she marveled at the simple fact that he had come along so well from the misunderstanding and abuse he had suffered throughout his childhood.
As the day trickled away slowly, Ginny experienced each and every meaningful encounter which had changed Harry in his young life; each time emerging with tears in her eyes and fire in her soul. Every time she returned, she was met with the gentle and understanding reassurance of Harry's warm embrace. She knew he had been withholding this memory, and silently, she thanked him for it as she had experienced each of his memories, slowly building up an emotional wall from Lord Voldemort, shielding her and healing her scars. Now, the time had come. The time when she would again face Tom Riddle.
The same Tom she had faced six years ago as a child in her first year.
The same Tom who had controlled and tortured her.
The same Tom who destroyed her childhood.
Robbed her innocence from her.
Mentally raped her.
i Him. /i
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Ginny gasped for breath. The horrible clamminess of the Chamber still stuck to her skin, bringing back long-forgotten memories. Seeing the new Voldemort had not prepared her for his striking face, the pale skin, and those icy, grey eyes. The face that had haunted her dreams for years. She had grinned inwardly in savage pleasure as she watched the fang penetrate that familiar leather diary. The tiny black book which had been companion to her for an entire year. He had destroyed it, and in doing so, he had saved her. At the tender age of eleven, she had fallen into his debt, and had fallen for him. Over time, that spark had developed, as she watched his silent brooding, his moody days. She had sat by, unnoticed, through the dark and light times, the ever companion in the shadows. Till she had finally worked up the nerve in her fifth year. They had fallen in love. As joy coursed within her to chase the misery away, a brilliant smile blossomed upon her face, and she thought of their love.
Harry watched silently as she emerged from the memory, as Ginny had flowed through the range of emotions which he knew would be battling within her. Slowly, her luscious lips curved up at the edges, and her eyes sparkled, lighting her delicate features up with an inner fire. He sighed softly, absently using the back of his hand to brush a soft crimson lock of hair from her face. He could sit there for ages, taking in her beauty. He knew he would never tire of just watching her, even when she was old and wrinkled, and he knew he had not made the wrong decision the night before. Her creamy skin, the light dusting of freckles which graced her nose and cheeks; her full lips and noble features which were crowned by her exquisite auburn hair. Last, and definitely his favorite, her deep, chocolate brown eyes, brimming with emotion and intelligence. However, he also admired her strength and how she bit her bottom lip when she was nervous, the way her neck tensed when she was furious, and the way her beautiful eyes glittered when she was happy. He was brought out of his musings by her musical laugh.
"Already going weird on me, Potter?" Ginny giggled at the way he blushed hotly at being caught staring, quickly averting his eyes and examining the floor; undeterred, she continued her teasing, "Or were you just checking me out? Ron would flip if he had seen that..." She fluttered her eyelashes prettily as he looked up, worry written clearly on his face. Laughing again, she leaned closer to him, wrapping her slender arms around his chest, pulling him in for a swift kiss. As she pulled back, Harry felt the fire of her kiss spread unhindered through his body, searing his nerves with passion. Her face was inches from his; he could see each of her freckles nearly hidden in the healthy pink of her cheeks as her face heated under his scrutiny. Her lips were damp from crying, but her eyes betrayed the inferno in her blood. Without further ado, his cradled her in his arms and pulled her in for another kiss.
Ginny fisted her hands in Harry's messy black hair, pulling him down to the floor next to her. He felt his tongue run gently over her lips, seeking entrance, and immediately reciprocated the gesture with interest. As their snogging intensified, a gentle rumble seemed to grow from Harry's throat and as the vibration increased, Ginny heard the soft and, in her opinion, very sexy moan which he let out. She protested half-heartedly as she felt his lips break away, till they descended once more upon the soft skin at the juncture of her neck and shoulders. He littered butterfly kisses in a row from her jaw to her suddenly bare shoulder, each touch setting her skin alight. His calloused hands ran along the small of her back, beneath her robe, the friction against her skin causing delightful little shivers to run up her spine. Just as things were about to get a little out of hand, a gentle cough interrupted them.
Both blushing madly, Harry and Ginny sat up, smoothing their clothes and neatening their mussed hair. Apparently, they had both forgotten the presence of the Pocket Pixie in the room. They turned to him expectantly, and were surprised to see the wizened old creature's cheeks flaming as well. Nervously, he cleared his throat.
"Ahem... W-W- Well, normally, I temporarily close the connection when this kind of thing happens..." if it had been possible, the couple's cheeks might have deepened a shade, as it was, it was not, so he continued, "Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I trust you are stronger from your experiences, Mistress?" At his words, Ginny fidgeted a little at the appellation.
"Yes, I did. I thought I was strong enough to face him before this on my own, but I was wrong. I found that out when I entered the second memory. The sight of Voldemort seemed to paralyze me somehow, but now I see that he can be defeated. It is not that I do not fear him anymore, that would be foolish; and yet, somehow, I feel more confident and I know that I can do something to help," at these words, Ginny turned to face Harry, something changing in her tone of voice, "I know alone I am not strong enough to face him, but I know that you are. I will support you, Harry. I will fight for you to get you to the place and time you need to be to kill dear Tom, even if I have to do it with my last breath..." Harry stared straight into her deep, hazel eyes; and she into his clear, emerald ones. A flash of understanding passed between them.
"I know." he replied simply, and he did. The passion in her voice was so pure, so unmarred. He knew she would fight till the last, as he would, and he knew that he could do nothing to stop it, and had no right to. The conviction in his heart was clear, Ginny deserved to see the end of Tom Riddle as much as he did. This time, with deliberate slowness and emotion, he pressed a chaste kiss to her tender lips, reveling in the beauty of their love. At the wondrous look in his eyes, Ginny laughed softly, musically.
The melodious quality he had noticed in her voice earlier was still present, but now it was hard and certain. Harry smiled because it was hauntingly familiar and he knew what it was.
The chord was the sound which personified her.
The sound of the voices in the stream.
And it was simply Ginny, his Ginny.
Her past, present & future.
It was her soul.
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i A/N: Yay! After a lot of slacking and sickness on this chapter, I finally finished it with 2 days of determination. Note to self- never procrastinate jumping over mental blocks; they just get bigger over time. This goes out to all ex-Rosythians Batch of '04! Come to the Batch Party on the 6th of September! Thanks for reading, now review :) /i
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Copyright Geoffrey Lim 2006