Disclaimer: Harry Potter ™ belongs to JKR and WB. Song Lyrics (Welcome to My Truth) ©Anastacia

Snapshots

It wasn't silent - far from it. The seagulls cawed noisily from the embankments and the air, the occasional sloppy missile splashing into water that otherwise waved softly back and forth, slapping the sides of the boat. Tom tilted his head a little and caught sight of the freckled red head at his side. Her hair was being tugged and teased by the wind and her chocolate eyes sparkled brightly under the light slowly fading to rose.

Their fingers were still entwined, hanging over the bars that they were both leaning against, dangling above the grey waters of the Thames. It was strange, this sweet, tangy headiness that hung in the air. It was almost like being drunk, but with all your senses still intact. Ginny caught his gaze and smiled softly.

Somehow, oddly enough, Tom found that he could smile back.

Sentimental days

The Hufflepuff - he couldn't even remember her name - was dead. He didn't need to come any closer to know that. Her skin was icy pale and her eyes were shallow and flat. It was surreal, knowing that he had killed her. Well… indirectly killed her. But, technicalities aside, the fault of this girl's death was entirely his own.

Tom winced, waiting for the realisation to sink in and the guiltiness to take stand. But it never came. A sense of disillusion settled over him and a sensuous thrill filled him from the tips of his toes although way up along every nerve ending until he was shaking with it.

First blood. And in this unreality that had just come true, Tom longed for his second.

In a misty clouded haze

His throat was hoarse from screaming. He swore, every time, that he wouldn't scream next time. Wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. But then he came and it started again, thrust after dry thrust and Tom was howling again, in agony that drove the man harder, faster… crueller.

And, afterwards, the man wouldn't just leave. He had to flaunt and kick and make sure that Tom was fully broken, like a good little lapdog fully house trained. He swore, every time, that he wouldn't break next time. That he'd find his strength from somewhere and fight back and hex those horrible bollocks that he was far too well acquainted with right off.

But he knew that he deserved every single excruciating second.

Of a memory that now feels untrue

Tom sat in the armchair with his back ramrod straight, one hand caressing the pages of the book on his lap, the other lying on the arm, gently stroking his wand. It was just another reminder to his classmates that they could act as friendly as they liked towards him, they would never be his friends. He'd never let them close enough.

Those who could get beneath his wall could hurt him, kill him from the inside out, and Tom knew what it was like to die inside. Even here, in the home he'd never had, he could never relax. Never drop his guard, not while the world was watching his every move - the impeccable Slytherin King.

Never let them know that inside he was just a scared, broken, abused little boy.

I used to feel disguised

Tom held Ginny's hand tightly as they approached their cottage that had become their home. The monster was still lying in Slytherin's study where they'd left her, too anxious to see whether the accusations were true - she'd claimed to kill them. The only family Tom had, his half-brother and Ginny's adopted sister and they were supposedly lying dead and abandoned.

But the door handle had barely been turned when it opened from the inside, two frantic human canon balls hurtling out and hitting Tom and Ginny, knocking them to the grass. For one, terrible moment, Tom thought it was a trap. But then Keara and Ricky's face came into focus and he was bowled over emotionally as well as physically.

He laughed and hugged them, telling them all over and over how much he loved them.

Now I leave the mask behind

To have her body pressed against his like this! They were fully clothed and standing in the middle of a Hogwarts corridor, the petrified body of Theodore Grant watching on as he attacked her neck, but never before had he felt so aroused. So much of him was screaming that it was wrong and, after everything, he didn't deserve this. But a louder, less rational voice was shouting to screw that and love this girl.

And what words that fell from her full red lips. Like warm honey, falling in his ears and scorching his brain until no coherent thought was left except the need to hear more, have more, taste more. Ginny told of burning and ashes and wonderfulness and Tom knew that one day he'd follow her and set her truly alight.

And on that day he'd know that the world might just be better than he'd always thought.

Painting pictures that aren't so blue

Tom still had an arm wrapped tightly around Ginny. She didn't need his hold to stay upright, but he was loathe to move it, even with Dumbledore's disapproving gaze upon them. They'd told him everything - the possession, the Basilisk, the lies and the truth. And the old man had listened as though it were all the most ordinary thing in the world.

But when they told him of their siblings his gaze hardened - the twinkle disappeared and Tom knew the codger would never forgive them. For petrifying and accidentally killing fellow students, yes. For being raped and torturing the offender to death, yes. For killing parents that had abandoned him, yes. But for indirectly being the cause of two innocents' death?

No.

Tangled in a web

Tom sat in the Slytherin common room in a state of shock that the older Ginny had yet to break through. In his mind he kept replaying Ginny stepping over the chasm again and again, falling to a bottomless death in an unforgiving darkness.

When had he fallen in love with the red head? When had he become such a fool? And for someone whose own family he - or some version of him - had murdered, right before her eyes. It was a hopeless situation.

Especially now she was dead, too.

With a pain hard to forget

They were lying side by side on the bright green grass, listening to the shrieks and catcalls of Ricky, Keara and the other children at the park. Tom turned his head so his cheek was prickled by the cool grass, his blue eyes blinking across at Ginny, who seemed to just know that he was watching her. How was it that, even blind and with faint scars marking where the slave marks had once been, this girl was the most beautiful thing in the world?

Tom apologised, about what was for her and might have been for him and she did likewise, gentle smile gifting him with her unending forgiveness as she laid to rest old demons.

Perhaps the blind could see better than most people thought.

That was a time that I've now put to rest

Tom stalked the room from one end the other, not knowing how to vent his frustration. Dead! She should have been dead! But instead? Instead she had been sitting in the Hall eating her dinner calm as you please. She had even teased him. Like it didn't matter to her.

Tom span and punched the wall, swiftly healing the cuts after, but letting it sting a little longer. Looking down at his hands, open wide palm up he realised exactly how much he wanted to wrap them around Ginny's slender throat and squeeze her, breath by breath, until her face was blue and her damn sparkling brown eyes rolled up into her head.

Something told him, however, that his next attempt to kill her wouldn't be nearly so easy to pull off.

Oh, the pages I've turned are the lessons I've learned

Tom sat up suddenly, head spinning slightly. He looked down at Ginny, whose smile was a little… concerned? Puzzled? Now as well. Automatically he smiled back, forgetting she would see. But somehow it reassured her. Tom stroked a hand through her long bronze hair, loosing his fingers in the thick threads.

So much time, here. Too much time. Thinking on possibilities. It was stupid to live on 'what if's, but there were so many huge ones, stalking his every thought. Tom swallowed and looked across to where his half-brother and pseudo-sister were playing with the other children. Some nameless park in some nameless village full of nameless people.

Tom knew that he had to get away before the possibilities drove him mad.

Somebody bring up the lights I want you to see

The air was thick, heavy, almost like cold syrup, seeping into his very skin. And it was magnificent. The power in that air could almost be smelt, it was so potent. Tom closed his eyes and tilted his head back, simply enjoying the cold tendrils sneak through his clothes and skin making him feel utterly invincible.

And then the snake came as called. It was magnificent, making the feeling of indomitability ever more strong. This snake - basilisk - obeyed his every command. And it was powerful, too. Not in the magical sense, but in its presence. The snake was so there, so totally in command of itself that to control such a beast was impossible.

And yet that was a control that Tom had just been given.

My life turned around

Why was he so angry? Tom couldn't remember. But he knew that he was, the scraps of material that had once been pillows and the feathers floating everywhere was evidence enough of that. The other boys in his house were shrank back as casually as they could in the circumstances and Tom felt, alongside some kind of vindictive pleasure, disgust for them.

He stalked down the stairs, not caring for the havoc he'd left behind. Then her voice had called his name and part of a heavy fog that he hadn't noticed was there lifted. There was something in her tone… concern and scolding, almost. He felt himself heat up from that and stormed on, leaving her frowning after him.

It took sometime for him to realise that maybe that heat was from the comfort of knowing someone actually cared for his well being.

But I'm still living my dreams

It seemed surprisingly apt that the light that now seared through him was that of the Slytherin house. Green. Grass green, Avada Kedavra green; life and death. And, for some reason, two separate parts of himself that he hadn't even noticed were all that different. But when he was two people… it was so strange. His thoughts were two-way. It was like he could literally argue with himself - if he wanted to.

But joining back together was even stranger. It was such a sense of righteousness in those two parts of him belonging together. There's no shadows without light, no smile without cause. And having two parts slot like overly complicated puzzle pieces so exactly, so perfectly, together was like nothing he'd ever felt before.

Then she'd make him forget and he'd relive the experience for the first time, again, tomorrow.

I've been through it all

He was angry. Fuming, really. There were so many things about the new girl that he didn't like and they weren't just the normal things that irritated him, either, like displays of obvious emotion or inconsistent application to work. No, the new girl kept her emotions carefully masked and always had her homework done to a high standard - a suspiciously high standard.

But what really annoyed Tom was the way that she made friends with Gryffindors, ignored him. And then, when she had finally paid any attention to him she had scorned him. Not only that, but she'd… she had… tricked him! Tom snarled furiously and jumped to his feet, barely resisting the urge to rub him backside from where he'd landed awkwardly on the stone floor of the potions lab.

And then, of course, she had the nerve to smirk at him.

Hit about a million walls

Tom opened the door and shut it with a soft click behind him. Ginny was waiting with an expectant expression on her face from where she sat on the sofa. Tom opened his mouth to say something - hadn't he had a well prepared speech ready? Instead the cold hard truth dropped bluntly from his tongue and Tom winced, waiting for her bite back and ask him how he could do such a thing.

Instead she nodded. Then Ginny stood slowly, wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. It wasn't too hard, not too loose. It was exactly the confirmation that he needed. Ginny would wait for him, no matter what. Because whilst she didn't voice the words he felt them deep in his very soul and whispered them back at her over and over.

Then Tom had said goodbye, picked up his case full of clothes and left. It was something he had to do. Travel a bit. Get rid of the past, get rid of the 'what if's that still haunted his every thought. And when he was cleansed he would return home and Ginny would welcome him with open arms.

Because Ginny… Ginny was his truth.

Welcome to my truth

Fin

A/N:

From: ... ()
--
'Am I allowed to eat now?' Ginny asked plaintively, causing several othersniggers. Not waiting for a reply, Ginny dug in, thinking a lot about theprevious week. Dumbledore had not asked for a lot of details and hadspecifically not asked for her sirname-

Surname, you illiterate twat.
--

Dear … ()

I find it highly amusing that of my many mistakes it is this one that you pick up on. If you continued reading (which I doubt you did, in all sincerity) you would have noticed that the end of the chapters becomes increasingly worse in relation to grammar, punctuation and spelling. This is mostly due to my excitement at having finished a ten thousand word chapter. It is quite a slog, let me assure you.
You will also find that my use of commas is deplorable. In fact in the very segment that you picked out there is at least one punctuation mistake in relation to commas. I'd tell you what it was, but since I'm the illiterate twat, I'm positive that you noted it.
On that subject I would like to point out that the word 'twat' is a term for a woman's vagina or genital area. Whilst I am indeed a woman (and proud of this fact) I do not hesitate to point out that there is actually more to me than my reproductive organs.
The fact that this is the only mistake you deigned to point out in the entire of the first chapter also makes me think that perhaps it was the only mistake you could find. I'm not trying to say that I'm perfect, you understand, merely that the type of bigoted message that you sent me is in fact a defensive method of trying to bloat your own ego.
I apologise and you will find that the mistake that you pointed out has been edited.

Yours sincerely,
Illiterate Twat

A/N2: Is it wrong that I'm in stitches right now? Holy crow! What a way to end, huh? I once received on one of my other stories ages a back a highly accurate and somewhat scathing review. It was meant to help me recover what little of the plot line was left, but it encouraged me to reread what I had and realise that my reviewer had been right. They hadn't said so in as many words, but my story was crap. So I deleted that and started this instead.
Anyways, my point is that I'm not just after nice 'omg I lurved ur stry!' kind of reviews. They're nice but, um, kinda repetitive. I appreciate that that person has taken time to review, but there's little that I can benefit from that. Most of you guys will add a question or sentence, specifying what you liked, what I needed to explain, what the story could best be without. Which I love. Others, like the reviewer I mentioned, will be scathing, but that can be constructive too.
Now, this guy or gal. Has anyone else noticed that the only words they said that were their own were 'Surname, you illiterate twat' I mean, sure thanks for correcting my spelling. But it's one word in precisely 9991 (not including title/song lyrics/disclaimer/AN) that I got wrong. I really do not think that makes me 'illiterate'. Especially considering that those ten thousand words, when strung together, do make sense (on the whole)
I would also like to ask that if any of you ever feel the need to correct or suggest anything for my stories that you leave my anatomy out of it? I have boobs, arms, legs, a face, a tummy, a back, a butt, feet, hands and, yes, a twat. But that's really none of your business. And absolutely nothing to do with my literacy skills.
But I'm getting off the point again (if there ever was one) I found this review absolutely fricking hilarious. This dude or dudette couldn't even be bothered to leave their own name! I have nothing against being too lazy to sign in, I do that too! But to actually type '…' in the name bit? Jesus! How unimaginative can you get? I don't even get a 'I h8 u!' or 'So much better than you, stupid mortal' (I kinda like the last one, lol!) So when I read this, whoever this guy/gal was, I apologise but your insult only made me listen to a The Ting Tings song (shudder) by accident because I was laughing too hard to pay any attention to my play list.

Eep! This AN is almost as long as the story, methinks. Sorry about that. I just had to vent. And to tell anyone who insults me that I laugh a lot. BUT. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this and I hope you didn't get too confused by this last little bit. The first chapter of the sequel will be out either Christmas Day or Boxing Day, depending on how much I'll have drank. I know that's quite a way off, but I need a break from these long ass chapters. If any of you want me to note/email you when the first chapter is up either email me at , put me on your author alert list or send me a note or review saying so. If you review anonymously please remember to leave an email address.
Thank you everyone for being so supportive, even when I confused the hell out of you. This has been a fantastic journey and I can't believe I finished it!! Please leave me one last review!

Much love and hugs
Cal
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