Disclaimer: This story includes characters and situations that are part of the Harry Potter universe, which is copyright J.K.Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury, etc. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made in the production of this FANFICTION. Not many outside resources were needed this time, but I (as always) made extensive use of the Harry Potter Lexicon when writing this chapter.
Author's Note: I've been wanting to write the end of this chapter since I started writing this story, so I'm glad I finally got it in and I truly hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it and planning it out. Thanks to all my reviewers, Pixie (I hope you're happy with how Gwen turned out – personally, I think she's a nice addition), Amazing (you get your wish of Tom talking to Ginny, but probably not exactly how you imagined it. I hope the update was fast enough for you), and Zeldagrl, and thanks to my lovely brit-picker/beta reader Katy, who not only looks after my grammar but my characters as well.
Expectations of Grandeur: Chapter 9: Cold Memories and Warm Pillows
The tables had been clear of food for several minutes when Dumbledore again stood. "I have a few start of term notices for you all," he said, clearing his throat as he spoke. "Firstly, I would like to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is named so for a reason, and any student found venturing within it will be severely reprimanded. Also, the first floor girls' bathroom is now off limits, and will be for the foreseeable future. Mr. Filch has requested that I notify you all of a revised list of forbidden objects available in his office, but let it suffice to say that this is not a place for needless mischief and mayhem." Harry found it very hard not to add a whispered any more at the end of Dumbledore's speech. Everyone remembered Fred and George's famous last few weeks, in which the entire school seemed to be revolting against Professor Umbridge.
Dumbledore continued. "I would also like to issue a word of caution and reassurance. The world in which we live is becoming darker every day, and it is sometimes hard to believe that everything will turn out for the best. I am sure you have heard of the rapidly increasing rate of attacks through the Daily Prophet. I urge you to use common sense and take care not to wander aimlessly in the world, now that we know for certain – Lord Voldemort has returned. These certainly are dark days. However, while you are at Hogwarts, you need not worry yourself about the fears and trepidations of the outside world. Our four founders and our gifted staff have provided you with a unique opportunity – to learn magic in a place totally devoid of that risk, totally safe from the outside world. In these dark days, look to your studies to prepare yourself for when you must unfortunately leave this safe haven and venture into the world at large to fend for yourself. Do not besmirch this opportunity." Dumbledore coughed slightly, and the twinkle returned to his eye as he spoke his last words. "Especially, however, try not to shorten the ephemeral time you spend as a child. Remember to have fun." With that, he nodded at the prefects, who stood and led their respective houses to the dormitories. Hermione and Ron pushed to the front of the mass, leaving Harry alone in the throng leaving the great hall.
He supposed, ruefully, that he should have been expecting their disappearance, and as he walked up to the familiar Portrait of the Fat Lady and his familiar dormitory in Hogwarts School, he ruminated on Dumbledore's speech. It was hard to think that the headmaster's speech wasn't related to him, harder still to think that Dumbledore wasn't speaking directly to him for the last bit of the talk. Dumbledore might as well have shouted out to Harry that what was coming would come and he had best to not worry about the situation one way or another. Harry didn't really want to blindly accept this advice from his headmaster, however.
It was rich for Dumbledore to be telling him to relax about consequences, Dumbledore wasn't the one Voldemort was after – or he was one of the people Voldemort was after, but he wouldn't have to kill the Dark Lord when all was said and done. That was Harry's responsibility and at that moment, alone in the crowd, Harry felt the difference and the alienation more acutely than he had ever felt it before. He didn't notice Tom shoving past him brusquely to get to someone behind him, he hardly was aware of anything as he walked up to the common room.
It all came down to the fact that he had resolved to trust Dumbledore although Dumbledore still thought him a child. Dumbledore, who knew that Harry was destined to be a murderer, flatly denied the fact that Harry was growing up much faster than normal out of necessity, that Harry was expected to do things that most adult wizards would be incapable of doing, and all before he had finished his Hogwarts education. It was frightening to think that the man Harry had such trust in, the revered old Headmaster, was trying to pretend that nothing was wrong, and yet that was exactly what he advised to the students attending Hogwarts: nothing will happen here, pretend it's not happening. It doesn't concern you.
And yet, although Harry knew full well that Dumbledore had been speaking to him more than anyone else when he warned against the perils of growing up too fast, Harry also could not deny the fact that Dumbledore was living a dangerous life in denying that anything could happen in Hogwarts. Attacks had happened in Hogwarts before, and attacks would happen again if Voldemort had his way. Why was Dumbledore ignoring it?
Although that was, perhaps, the point, Harry decided. We all have trials ahead of us, some sooner than others, but we must not forsake our happiness because the future looks bleak. Dumbledore accepted the fact that horrors were all around them, but was sending out a message that the most important thing was not to deal with those horrors, which would deal with themselves or not as they chose, but to live out one's life as happily as one could, while one could. Harry might not live much longer, but that didn't mean all he could think about was death or murder.
It was with these thoughts that Harry approached the gateway to his cherished Common Room, and waited there for the rest of the prefects to assemble and declare the password.
He puzzled vaguely that he should have to wait so long, but perhaps this year's group of first years was particularly airheaded, and had gotten lost along the way. He sighed and leaned back against a railing on the stairwell, only to see the last few Gryffindors coming up the stairs, Ginny running several levels below them. All the Gryffindors had assembled when Ginny still had two levels to go, but Ron wasn't watching and cleared his throat anyway. "The password is Astra Vesperi," he enunciated carefully, glancing toward Hermione for a look of approval, which she happily gave at his correct pronunciation. The Fat Lady smiled benevolently and swung upon her hinges to let each Gryffindor in, just as Ginny barrelled into Harry from behind.
"Sorry!" she gasped, and fell into step beside him. "What was the password? I could barely hear Ron."
"Astra Vesperi," Harry answered, wondering where she had been and how she had gotten separated from the crowd. "Where were you?" he asked.
Ginny paused for a moment before answering, "Something was brought to my attention – I had to get something done quickly."
"It's not about Tom, is it?" Harry asked, worried now.
"Of course not," Ginny replied promptly as they entered the Common Room, waving goodnight and heading to their respective dorms. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief on seeing him trudge up to his room.
Ginny hadn't been quite lying – this new boy was insisting on being called Ophicus and not Tom, so the thing that was 'brought to her attention' was entirely unrelated to any 'Tom' that she might or might not have known. And certainly it didn't have to worry Harry one way or another. Ginny Weasley was tired of being the damsel in distress, the one who had to be constantly rescued or treated as though she was about to break. She had hoped that after her experience in the Department of Mysteries last year, her family and friends would realise that she wasn't so easily broken. Although, she had calmly deliberated with her mother and explained why it really did make sense for her to be at Hogwarts, she was secretly chafing against the fact that it came with a promise to let Harry look after her.
It didn't enter her mind that, had her mother said nothing about the subject at all, she would probably have secretly relished the fact that Harry was so willing, nay, ready, to watch over her. In the circumstances it was entirely the wrong kind of attention – the attention one gives a small child one wishes would grow up –and hadn't Harry told her to grow up just a few days ago, when they sat in the room with Buckbeak? They thought of her as the little girl, the silly little princess suited only to sit in her room and watch as the world crumbled around her.
The truth of the matter was that she had suddenly realised exactly how much of a key role she would certainly play in this year's adventures, and was bemoaning the fact that her very existence had, to this point, been defined as a hanger-on, rather than a central figure. But Tom had changed all that, just as he had in her second year. He had changed all that by coming back.
Standing up after Dumbledore's speech, she walked with her friends towards the door to the Great Hall, Amelia picking up the rear and making sure no first years were left behind. Jeannette and Elisa were intense discussion about the new Slytherin – Jeannette arguing that his looks and bearing alone made him different from the other Slytherins, Elisa arguing that be that as it may he was still a Slytherin and probably still nasty. Gwen Harker had tapped Ginny on the shoulder and made some comment about getting his attention when he strode up to her and pulled her aside.
He must have shoved past a great number of students to get to her, she thought, and admired his perseverance, even though she knew nothing of his motivation. The other Gryffindor girls in her year peered around for her, but Elisa saw her with Tom and motioned for Gwen and Jeannette to keep walking. And so Ginny found herself alone, facing a spectre of her past she had deemed long forgotten.
"What do you want?" she asked, shakily, thinking back desperately to McGonagall's offer of therapy and wondering if she would really need it. Tom looked so very frightening up close; he was an image from her worst nightmares. A cold fear sank into her gut, the painful feeling of actually being the damsel in distress, of not being able to handle her own problems. The assurance that Tom wasn't really all that bad was nothing to her now – the worst part of Tom was that he forced her to relive her first year.
"To apologise," he stated calmly. Ginny gulped, she could feel her knees going, and she wanted this encounter to be over with as soon as possible. She was loosing it – just as surely as she had lost it her first year, the memories of waking up with blood on her hands and guilt in her heart screamed out at her, but Tom said nothing and her agony was sustained.
"For what?" she asked, trying to remain calm even though she could hardly breathe.
"For getting you into that mess your first year. I assume Dumbledore has told you the truth, and I just want to say..." he paused, and Ginny saw in his discomfort that he was in earnest, "I just want to say that I take full responsibility for it, whatever that means. It was my fault, my mistake, and I'm sorry you had to endure that because of it."
Ginny felt her fear sink away as it was replaced by a cold rage. What did he expect her to do; say she accepted his apology and she was really not the worse for wear? But what would be the use of that meaningless lie when she could barely stand in his presence because of the weight of her memories? Did he think that just with that everything would be better? It was almost more comforting to have the old Tom back – the Tom who would try to use her- who was evil to the core, but at least would never pretend that an apology can give someone back a year of their life and four more years of nightmares and terrors when youth and innocence have been callously ripped away. She shook with rage. "You're sorry?" she asked, bitingly. She wanted to berate him for what he had done to her – in her first year and now, with his apology. "Don't be," she began, intending to continue it with some diatribe or another, but what came out, when she took one firm glance in his beseeching, guilty eyes, was only, "It was my own fault."
Her anger melted away, but no fear replaced it this time. She was still raging inside, but she knew that it was no good, that she would never confront anyone, much less Tom, about what had happened to her in her first year. She strode across the room to the nearest table and sat down, waiting for him to leave so she could continue up to the Gryffindor Common Room alone. But he had no intention of leaving her alone just then. "I'm still sorry – I should have been the responsible one, I was almost five years older than you." Ginny blinked as a tear began to fall on her cheek. Tom couldn't see how entirely worse he was making the situation. "I let it get out of hand. I'm sorry."
Another tear fell as Ginny stood and approached Tom. "Show me," she said, low and clear. "I wish I could have forgotten it, I wish I could say that I am all right after that. Your apology means nothing to me, Tom. I've heard you say so many things, so many black lies that just got me deeper and deeper into your scheme. How do I know this isn't one of them? If you're sorry, Tom, prove it. I don't care how, but prove it. You say you take responsibility, but you're just making my problems worse by doing this – you're just making me relive the worst memories of my life. You say it's all your fault, but you expect me to forgive you for it as though you had only made me skin my knee." She paused for breath here, and looked at Tom's face. Her speech was working; he looked wretched. "Some things leave more lasting scars than that. Memories can be the worst scars of all. I can't just forgive you like that – just like I can't forget my first year at Hogwarts." She finished with a sob, and turned toward the door, taking a step towards it. But Tom caught her hand.
"At least give me a chance – call me Ophicus," he said, his voice showing more sympathy than it had in any of his attempted apologies.
Ginny nodded. "Fine, Ophicus. But remember what I said. Things would be better for both of us if we could just each pretend the other didn't exist." She turned to face him, tears rolling down her face now. "Goodbye, Tom," and although he was confident he would see her again the next day, there was a sense of finality. The next day he wouldn't be Tom, he would be Ophicus, and she wouldn't know him. She turned to leave.
"Goodbye, Ginny," he said, although something deeper inside him wanted to say hello.
Ginny had attempted to dry her tears as she ran towards the Gryffindor Common Room where her friends would be waiting, and hoped that no one would notice that her face was red with tears, but she had not a second to spare or she would be caught outside the Common Room with no password. So she hurried, head ducked and back hunched, up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower. She had two levels left to climb when she heard Ron giving the password, but she missed it in her rush to reach the top of the stairs. It was in this state that she bumped into Harry, and for a second before she could quite see out of her tear-clogged eyes, she thought he was Tom.
Fortunately, that was only a second, and she was soon walking next to Harry, as none of the other girls in her year were visible, feeling very put upon as he asked her questions about what had happened while he failed to notice that she had most certainly been crying. It was in this mood that she decided Harry viewed her only as a damsel in need of rescue, not as a human being with complex emotions and motives and goals that superseded any fairy tale ending one might have in mind. It was with these weighty thoughts, and the fear of sinking into that very despised model of the fairy tale damsel, her eyes burning red with tears, that she slowly climbed the stairs to her own room, where the four other girls in her year were coming up with various excuses for her.
"Perhaps she just had to talk to McGonagall again," Amelia suggested, not having seen the red head be pulled aside by the tall, dark, and handsome new Slytherin. "She was gone at the beginning of the feast as well, after all."
Jeannette shook her head decisively. "No, this has something to do with that new Slytherin," she insisted. "I saw him pull her aside."
"That's not true," Elisa commented. "I saw him pull her aside, and told you to keep walking even though Ginny wasn't there."
"Well, I saw him talking to her afterwards. I'm not that dull."
"Oh, just shut it," complained Gwen, impatient with such inane arguing. "The point is that we know for a fact this has something to do with Ophicus Serpens Marvolo."
Jeannette giggled. "That's a very funny name," she laughed. "Funnier even than Draco Malfoy, I believe."
They all had to admit that Ophicus Serpens Marvolo was easily the strangest, most downright unruly name they had ever heard. It mauled the mouth on its birth, rather than rolling smoothly off the tongue like most names.
"Imagine the parents," Gwen commented. "They must just have pulled letters out of a hat or something."
"No," Elisa answered, "I think that Ophicus is a constellation, and Serpens too. Both related to snakes somehow. It's quite the Slytherin name, when you think of it."
There was a silence. No one knew how to ruin a joke quite like Elisa. "I was kidding," Gwen whispered. "Not that it matters anyway."
"What I'm wondering," Amelia said at length, "is what on earth a Slytherin like him had to do with Ginny – and twice he's tried to talk to her since the beginning of the feast. It hasn't been that long."
Jeannette nodded but couldn't find a suitable reason, and Elisa only stared vacantly towards the wall, so they were left in silence until Gwen spoke up. "She is awfully short," she said, "maybe he mistook her for a house elf and went to go give her orders about his laundry."
They all laughed. "Maybe he thought her head was on fire, and wanted to mock her," Jeannette offered, and although this was not strictly as humorous, they all laughed even harder.
"He might have taken her for a teacher and wanted to suck up," Elisa commented, and they peered quizzically at her for a moment until she explained. "Well, Ginny is so collected that she seems older than she is – I've seen first years ask her what subject she taught." Jeannette and Gwen just blinked, but Amelia remembered several occasions when that had been true, and she laughed lightly. It was then that Ginny chose to come in, eyes still a bit red and a horrible scowl on her face.
Seeing her obvious distress, all four girls jumped up from their lounging attitudes and herded Ginny into the room with soothing mumblings and calm finesse. Jeannette pulled a chair into the middle of the room and Amelia sat Ginny down forcefully upon it, holding Ginny's shoulders in place. Once they were sure Ginny wasn't going anywhere, Gwen spoke up. "What'd he do?" she asked.
Ginny blinked. "It's... it's nothing particular," she tried to say, but it didn't work and Gwen frowned visibly.
"We don't want to do this the hard way, Ginny," Jeannette chimed in from beside her. "But you've been upset by something. Tell us."
Ginny decided that after her first year, her friends had turned overprotective on her. Why hadn't they been there when she actually needed them? Although she supposed they had only been eleven as well back then. It was a bit much to ask an eleven-year-old to show decisive action like this. Still, it reeked the sentiment that she was a delicate doll and had to be protected. "Can't I just be unhappy without it being a disaster?" she bit.
"Not when your unhappiness is caused by a ten minute meeting with Ophicus Serpens Marvolo," Amelia answered, and Gwen repeated her question.
Ginny sighed. "He insulted my family," she began. It was a bold faced lie, but one they would accept, and she certainly wasn't going to tell the truth.
"So does Malfoy- every day of the week," insisted Elisa. "This has to be more."
"He insulted me," Ginny began, cautiously, "said he had heard about the Chamber incident in my first year. Reminded me of that."
All four of the girls in Ginny's year knew that Ginny had been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets and almost killed in her first year, but they all treaded careful waters in talking about it, because she had been a shier girl then, writing in her diary all the time and hardly ever talking to them. Not to mention her usual outbursts whenever the subject was brought up. They nodded unanimously. This was an acceptable reason.
"I wouldn't take it too seriously," Gwen said with a wicked smile. "He probably wanted to get you mad – thinks you're some kind of red headed vixen or something."
Ginny shuddered inwardly, and winced outwardly. But Jeannette continued the joke. "Either that or a Gryffindor innocent, easily taken advantage of," she said.
But she knew she had gone too far when Ginny turned pale. "Ew, Slytherin," Elisa reminded them, but Ginny stared into space and said nothing for a few terrifying minutes.
"He didn't really..." Jeannette trailed off when Ginny stayed frozen, and Amelia was left to deal with the situation.
"If he thought that, boy was he in for a surprise – the last person at Hogwarts who is easily taken advantage of is Ginny Weasley," she said quickly and confidently, and Ginny smiled slightly and snapped out of her pallor.
"He was probably picking a fight," offered Elisa. "You know how Slytherins are."
Ginny nodded, grateful for the suggestion. Jeannette laughed, and replied, "Although I don't know if I'd mind him picking fights with me," she said. "But who knows. Since that's all Ginny will tell us, maybe he reminded her of her first year by mistaking her for one, and reminding her that she had to be sorted."
Ginny laughed at that, as did the others, and Gwen laughed. "Or maybe even to tell her that she should go home; the school isn't open to ten year olds."
Ginny hit the dark haired girl sitting in front of her on the top of the head. "That's not fair!" she cried, "You're almost as short as I am! And I do not look like a ten year old!"
Gwen smiled maliciously. "Fine, a nine year old," she answered, and Ginny pulled a pillow from the nearest bed to pummel Gwen Harker with.
Soon enough the room degenerated into a pillow fight as the girls flung themselves at each other, bodies flying everywhere and feathers permeating the air. The chair Ginny had been sitting in had been knocked over, and now provided a major obstacle in the ongoing war. Finally, all five girls collapsed into their beds. Ginny fell at once into a deeper, more contented sleep than she had for a long time, fully mindful of Dumbledore's words recommending that she not forget to have fun in her fifth year at Hogwarts School.
