"Luna." Luna tucked her wand behind her ear, and the feather she'd been levitated floated back down to the desk. Luna looked at Ginny, who was sitting next to her. "Do you know anything about sleepwalking?"
"Not really, I'm afraid," Luna replied, thoughtfully. "Mummy never did it, and Daddy doesn't either. I never have, or at least, I don't think I have. Still, that's the point, isn't it? I'd be asleep, and wouldn't know." Luna spent a moment thinking that through, and resolved to write to Daddy when she had a free moment. It would make for an interesting discussion, if nothing else, and perhaps Daddy could even write an article about it. Ginny looked wretched, though, and Luna returned her attention to the other girl. "Is there a reason you asked?" Ginny bit her lip and looked over at the other two girls from Gryffindor, who were whispering, and looking back at them. They could both be very unkind, Luna had noticed.
"Ginny was sleepwalking last night," Colin whispered, from Ginny's other side. "Gave them a right scare, apparently, crawling and falling over and trying to walk. Georgina said she looked like her baby brother, who's one and a half and learning to wal-"
"Colin!"
"What?" Colin asked, shrinking back into his chair. "Luna asked-"
"I'd think Georgina was making it up," Ginny said, still looking annoyed, "but look." She rolled up the sleeves of her jumper and inched her skirt back past her knee. Bruises were blooming there, in all sorts of colours. "And I feel so tired." She poked her feather with her wand, not even bothering with the spell. "But I never sleepwalk!"
"Maybe it's nargles," Luna suggested. Ginny groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Just an idea." Luna tapped her chin thoughtfully. "If you'd like, I can bring you something that might make it go away."
"Like what?" Ginny asked, squinting at her.
"Perhaps a necklace of butterbeer corks," Luna said. "Or of feathers. Necklaces guard your head, you know."
"Really?" Colin asked. "How?" Luna smiled and swapped chairs with Ginny, so that she could tell Colin – who'd grown up as a muggle and had an interest in all sorts of magics – about the power of certain bits of jewellery. Colin was always so polite, and always asked such good questions. Luna liked talking to him very much, and had promised to take him out onto the grounds that weekend to find a humdinger for him to photograph.
Next to her, Ginny blew on her feather so it looked like she was managing her spell, and somehow managed to earn herself five points for Gryffindor.
"Are your dorm-mates still not talking to you?" Tom asked, tucking a strand of Ginny's hair behind her ear. Ginny, who was curled up in an armchair in the Slytherin common room, shook her head.
"They think I'm a freak," she said miserably. "Apparently I was up and about last night as well, but I was actually walking this time. I just don't think I'm very good at having friends that are girls." She laughed, but it wasn't an amused sound.
"Poor, dear, Ginny," Tom said softly. He was glad he was sitting off to the side, so that she couldn't see the slight smile on his face. "But what about Luna and Colin? And your brothers and their friends?"
"Luna's in Ravenclaw. Colin can't get up to my dormitory, and Percy yelled at me for trying to go up to his. Said it wasn't appropriate." One of Ginny's small feet kicked the common room table, and Tom gently stroked her shoulder. "And Fred and George and Harry and Ron are off doing something, but Draco was late to meet Snape and didn't tell me what, and I think Hermione must have gone to the library, because I can't find her. I just- I always imagined that everyone would be around again, once I got to Hogwarts, but they're always doing their own things."
"I know it's not the same," Tom said in a voice he hoped sounded nervous, "but I'll always be here for you."
"Not the same?" Ginny asked, snorting. She turned to look at him, and Tom kept his expression blank. "You're just as good as any of them, Tom." Ginny hesitated and then wrapped her arms around Tom, who was perched on the arm of the chair. He froze, but Ginny didn't seem to notice. "And you're right; you're always here for me." Her voice was muffled and he just hoped she wasn't getting snot on his robes.
"Of course I am," Tom said, patting her hair. When she looked up, he was surprised to see her beaming at him, rather than looking upset.
"I think you're my best friend," she said. Tom just patted her head, and Ginny squeezed him again. Tom didn't struggle, though he wanted to. Hugs weren't something he'd ever been very comfortable with.
"I'm flattered," he said, and wasn't lying; he didn't care for her feelings, obviously, but Tom needed her to trust him, and she'd just told him she valued him above everyone else.
"And I'm sorry if I annoy you sometimes, because I'm younger than you." Her age was one of a whole list of things about her, but Tom, still pleased she'd called him her best friend, smiled.
"Ginny, you could never annoy me." She looked pleased, but not as if she believed him. "I'm a Slytherin," he said lightly, but he was always wary about bringing that up, "I would tell you, I assure you."
"Unless you had to keep me happy to carry out some cunning plan of yours," Ginny said. Tom couldn't read her face at all, and started to panic. How she'd worked it out, he had no idea, but this could be it if he wasn't careful. He braced himself to possess her, and hoped he was strong enough; so far, he'd managed it twice, but only while she'd been asleep. An awake Ginny would be much harder to handle, he knew, particularly if she was as wary of him as she'd just professed. "Tom?"
"Where did I slip up?" he asked.
"Slip- Oh." Ginny laughed. "You're so funny, Tom." She smiled up at him again, and Tom stared at her. She gave him an odd look, and then started to talk about her visit to Hagrid's and how nice he was, and how much his dog dribbled, and how the dog had howled every time Hagrid's rooster crowed from its coop outside.
Like some sort of competition, she'd said. Tom was unsure what had happened, but could only assume Ginny had been making a very odd joke when she'd accused him of having a cunning plan. As soon as he registered what she'd just said, however, all thoughts of her maybe-joke had fled.
"Hagrid has roosters?"
Much, much later that night, Tom slipped back into the first year girls' dormitory. He cleaned Ginny's shoes, which were muddy, and set them at the end of her bed, then walked Ginny to the bathroom so he could use the mirror to get rid of the rooster feather he could feel in her hair, and make sure none had stuck to her robes. It was a good thing he'd checked.
He flushed the feathers down the toilet, and stepped back out into the main room. In the bed closest to the door he'd just come out of, Demelza sat upright, looking frightened. Tom withdrew into the small pocket he'd made in the back of Ginny's head, and felt the real Ginny stir. Her body dropped to the ground before she quite had control of it again.
"Ginny?" Demelza whispered.
"Ow," Ginny said. Then, "Why am I all wet?" He felt her skim through her last thoughts (the important ones were tucked safely away with him), trying to remember. Ginny made a small, distressed sound when she realised she didn't remember and satisfaction ran through Tom. He withdrew further, still there, but entirely dormant, and left her to her own devices.
"It could be worse," Harry said, rubbing a tarnished Quidditch award.
"How?" Ron asked.
"Lockhart could have caught us instead of Filch-" While the weather wasn't overly cold yet, it had been raining for days and Harry (and Ron, who'd come to watch and fly the Nimbus afterward) had tracked mud up three floors of the castle, and then bumped straight into the caretaker and his awful cat. "-and we'd both probably be making him hair potions and addressing his fan mail." Ron pretended to vomit on a Special Award for Services to the School. Harry laughed.
"Filch could have let us use magic, at least," Ron sighed.
"Yeah, but then he wouldn't be Filch, would he?" Harry winced and massaged his hand. Life with the Dursleys had prepared him for this sort of thing, but, thanks to Padfoot, he was well out of practice. "Besides-"
"Finally…" The voice seemed to come from the very castle, but Harry would never have imagined Hogwarts could sound so cold or dangerous. Harry twitched and dropped the trophy he'd been working on.
"Watch it!" Ron said, shoving him. Harry was listening too hard to do anything more than shove him back half-heartedly.
"So long… so hungry…"
"Harry?"
"Can you hear that?" Harry asked, his head snapping in Ron's direction.
"Hear what?" Ron asked. It wasn't an uncommon situation; with Harry's canine hearing he often heard things that his friends didn't. This time, however, Harry hadn't just heard Peeves causing trouble, or a student or teacher saying something under their breath.
"There was- it was a voice," Harry said, looking around wildly. They were very much alone in the trophy room, and Harry wasn't sure that he felt safe. "It was- it was like Hogwarts was talking, but it was- Weird. I don't-"
"Hogwarts was talking?" Ron asked, arching his eyebrows. "If that-"
"I know it sounds mental," Harry said hotly, sure that Ron was about to say just that.
"Keep your hair on," Ron said, kicking him. "I was going to say, if that's the case, should we, you know, tell someone?"
"I expect Madam Pomfrey would like to know that I'm hearing voices," Harry said dully. His eyes swept around the room again. Everything was silent now.
"I meant Dumbledore, you prat," Ron said, rolling his eyes, "or you could tell Sirius." Harry just nodded.
They finished their detention in silence – though not an awkward one – and made their way back up to the common room. Harry kept his hand on his wand, and listened carefully, but the voice didn't speak again. Somehow, though, that didn't calm Harry at all, and he was very glad to be back within the safety of Gryffindor tower. Other than Percy and Ginny, who were sitting together on one of the couches by the fire, the common room was empty. Harry smiled at Ginny, but she wasn't paying attention. He noticed her robes and hair were damp.
"And where have you been?" Percy asked, bristling. "It's past curfew-"
"We had detention," Ron told him. Percy looked even less impressed to learn that, and his eyes flicked to Harry. His lips thinned, and Harry wondered whether Percy thought he was a bad influence on Ron.
"And what a fine example you're setting," Percy snapped, putting a hand on Ginny's shoulder. She twitched, and then looked at the hand, as if surprised to see it there. "With you, and Fred and George to watch, it's no wonder she thinks it's all right to be wandering the corridors at all hours."
"I told you," Ginny said to Percy in a small voice, "I wasn't wandering, I was sleepwalking."
"Since when do you sleepwalk?" Ron asked, looking baffled. Ginny's face crumpled, but she didn't cry. She just seemed confused and upset.
"I don't know," she said. "One minute, I was asleep in bed, and then next thing I'm being attacked by some silly ghost-"
"Moaning Myrtle," Percy said.
"Who?" they asked together.
"She's haunts a bathroom," Percy said. "Obviously, Fred and George have harassed her in the past, and so she thought being mean to Ginny would be a good way to get back at them. It's really quite lucky Penny was on patrols, or things could have got out of hand." He patted Ginny's arm, but Harry didn't think she looked comforted.
"Who's Penny?" Ron asked slyly. Percy pretended not to hear him.
"I told you not to-" Harry started weakly, but couldn't finish before Padfoot swept him into a hug.
"And since when are you the one that gets to tell people what to do?" Padfoot held Harry at an arm's length, looked at him for a moment, and then grinned. "I'm your godfather, remember? I get to be the bossy one." Despite telling him it wasn't worth a trip out, Harry was glad to see him. "Are the others around?"
"Ron's with Ginny, writing a letter home, but then he and Draco are going flying, and Hermione was with Neville and Parvati," Harry said, as they flopped down onto the grass by the lake. "Have you heard much from Moony?"
"Bits and pieces," Padfoot said. "He got himself into a bit of trouble with one of the parents after a Dicta-Quill mistranslated something, and he said Matt was heading over to visit them this weekend, and that he'll be back next weekend."
"For Quidditch?" Harry asked.
"And Halloween," Padfoot said. Harry nodded at once.
"Are you going to Godric's Hollow, or just-"
"Yeah," Padfoot said. "Yeah, we'll go, but then I think we'll come home via Hogsmeade." He gave Harry a significant look.
"You might bump into Fred and George," Harry said, grinning. "I think the older years get to go that weekend."
"I know," Padfoot said. "But I was sort of hoping one of the younger students might come out too… We'd come and get you, of course, and drop you back at the school afterward…"
"We as in you and Moony?" Harry asked. Padfoot nodded.
"I think butterbeer, and stories about what horrendous little gits we all were at school is called for on Halloween," Padfoot said. "If you're interested, that is?"
"Yes, please," Harry said, smiling. Padfoot grinned back.
"So tell me more about this voice. Is it still around?"
"I haven't heard it again," Harry said. "It was- I mean, maybe I imagined it, but-"
"I know you don't think that," Padfoot said.
"But Hogwarts can't talk," Harry said. "That's mental, right?"
"Stranger things have happened," Padfoot said, shrugging. "And you said Ron didn't hear it?"
"No, and I talked to Draco and Hermione about it, and they said they didn't hear anything where they were. But it was- I know it wasn't in the trophy room, it was- I dunno, under, or around, or something." Harry shifted. "I'm going to Dumbledore if it happens again, but I haven't- I don't want to bother him when it's probably nothing." Padfoot watched him for a moment, and Harry wondered if he thought Harry should have told. He didn't say anything about it, though.
"What about your scar?"
"My- what about it?"
"It hasn't been hurting?" Padfoot asked. "No odd dreams, or strange headaches?"
"Not that I've noticed," Harry said, shaking his head. "Besides, didn't you say that Dumbledore told you he was abroad? How could he be in two places at once?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Padfoot said. "And I agree with you; it's unlikely to be him. But, the fact that it was only you that could hear it, and that we had that warning from Dobby… I don't think this will be the last of the voice, and I don't think we can discount Voldemort from the list of people to blame."