Okay, this chapter is a little shorter but hey. I hope you enjoy this chapter ;)

Chapter Nine

A Red Head's Blame

Hermione stared up at the Weasley daughter as if she had grown a second head. "Excuse me?"

"You murdered my fiancé!" Ginny screamed.

"How could I? You saw for yourself it was the Deatheater." Hermione argued.

"You were the one who sent him to his death! You sent him on this mission!" Ginny spat.

Hermione stood up. "Ginny, you know as well as I do we all knew what we were getting into. None of us chose this exact fate, but Dean wanted to fight and fight he did."

Ginny narrowed her eyes and glared at her. "I will never forgive you!" She growled. "I hate you."

Hermione deflated, walking around her desk, and reached out for the girl. "Gin..."

Ginny growled and threw her arms down, breaking Hermione's hold and almost breaking her arms.

"Don't touch me!" She spat.

"Gin…" Hermione gasped, rubbing her wrists. "I know you're hurting but…"
Ginny hissed. "Don't call me that! I'm not your friend!"

Hermione felt her heart break. "But Ginny-"

"I will kill you!" Ginny whispered, glaring. "I promise you that."

Hermione recoiled and stared at the girl in front of her. She wasn't the same, carefree red head she had shared a room with all those summers at the Burrow.

She was different, darker.

Ginny spat at Hermione's feet, before turning and storming away, her dress fanning out darkly behind her.

Hermione felt her head droop and she perched herself on the edge of her desk, trying to recover from the shock and horror she felt at seeing her friend so callous and cold.

"Don't take it to heart, Hermione. Miss Weasley has been heading down this road for years." The kind, light hearted voice of Albus Dumbledore called from his portrait.

Hermione looked up at him questioningly. "She has?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Ever since the diary incident, she has housed a Darkness none of us knew about until it was too late."

"But you knew." Hermione pointed out.

Dumbledore sighed. "I suspected."

"But she never showed any sign of it." Hermione argued.

Dumbledore rose an eyebrow. "Not one?"

Hermione began to think. "There was one time."

Ginny and Hermione were sat outside the Burrow, by the lake, in the Summer before her fourth year. They were just relaxing and sunbathing, what they usually did.

"Ugh!" Ginny cried as a field mouse ran across her foot.

Hermione giggled. "It's just a mouse."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "It's filthy. A disease ridden pest."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's not so bad." She leaned over and caught the mouse in her hand, making sure to keep her fingers and palm away from it's teeth.

"See, it's kind of cute." Hermione smiled, stroking the mouse's head. Despite it's struggles, the mouse relaxed a little into the witch's tender ministrations.

Ginny glared at the creature. "Vermin. I say we kill it."

Hermione looked offended. "Ginny! We can't kill it. That's inhumane!" She protested.

There was a dark glint in the younger witch's eye. She blinked and it was gone. "Okay, you're right. Let's let it go."

Hermione smiled and placed the mouse on the floor. It scurried away to a small hole in the flowerbed.

The next day, Hermione had gone down to give the mouse a bit of bread. It was harmless really. But when she had gotten there, the bloodied body of the mouse lay just outside it's burrow.

At the sound of the girl's scream, the whole Weasley family, minus Percy and plus Harry, dashed out to see what was wrong.

Harry and Ron had comforted the shaken, kind hearted girl by stroking her bushy hair. They had said a cat had probably gotten hold of it. But now Hermione knew better.

"Only one time?" Dumbledore prompted.

Hermione frowned as images of Ginny with a dark glint in her eyes, or a cold smirk on her lips floated through her mind.

Apparently it happened more than she had first thought.

A shudder ran through her.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"I have to…think." Hermione sighed, jumping up and running from her office.

Rookwood and the Carrow brother were pacing in front of the boundary where Voldemort's Headquarters ended. It had been quite a quiet night, not a single soul. Well apart from the essence of the dead that still lingered around the graveyard, not quite dead but there.

"Anything interesting?" Rookwood huffed.

Carrow scowled. "Not a single thing."
There was a pop, startling the two men slightly. At once, they dropped into fighting stances, Rookwood with his wand hovering mere inches from his Dark Mark; ready to call his brothers into battle.

It wasn't what they expected. Instead of the army of the Order or even Ministry Aurors, Ginny Weasley stood before them.

Carrow cackled. "Well look who it is. A little blood traitor who had wandered a little too far from their nest."

Ginny looked imposing, dressed in the still black funeral robes and her bun still intact. "I am here to speak to Voldemort."

Rookwood hissed, sucking his breath in through his teeth. "You speak his name!"

Ginny smirked. "Of course. I wish to be his ally. What kind of ally would I be if I didn't use his name."
Carrow pointed his wand at her. "Is this some kind of trick?"

Ginny rose an eyebrow. "Of course not. Now take me to your leader." She ordered.

Rookwood frowned. "That sounds familiar."

Ginny growled and it wasn't long before the dark haired man was rolling on the floor in agony.

Carrow's eyes widened.

"Take me to Voldemort." Ginny spat.

Voldemort was relaxing in his throne room surrounded by his faithful Deatheaters.

The doors burst open to reveal a haggard looking, panting Rookwood. Voldemort's red eyes glowed darkly.

"What is it Rookwood?" He spat.

"Someone is here to see you." Rookwood gasping, wincing in pain.

Before Voldemort could even reply, Ginny swept into the room kicking Rookwood to the floor.

"Hiya Tom. Long time no see, I mean since your soul inhabited my body when I was eleven." Ginny waved, looking like she was greeting a long lost friend.

"Who are you?" Voldemort stared at her.

"Ginny Weasley of course. Former blood traitor. And now I am here to become co-leader." Ginny stated.

If Voldemort had eyebrows they would have shot into his hair, that is if he had hair too. "What?"

"I can take over your place if you want, but I thought you might want to work with me instead." Ginny shrugged.

"How dare you…" Voldemort hissed.

Ginny grinned devilishly. "Great. Now where do you want me to put my throne, partner?"

Please Read and Review. I hope you enjoyed this. The thing with Ginny is the darkness in her soul got too great when Dean died. This is where the story really begins.