A/N: Thank you so much to reviewers! I love you all. Sorry, but this chapter has also been divided into two, as it just go tooooo long. Mah bad. P Early February. Ginny and Myrtle go down below… and I don't mean Australia. P Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I am not lucky enough to be as smart enough as to invent these characters myself. They are not mine. Too bad. –pout-

The Stone Speaks

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Black Abyss

GINNY

Ginny unblushingly raised her hand, and grinned at him. "Thank you, though, you know you're wonderful," she teased, hugging his free arm.

"It's been said before," mumbled Draco jokingly, but his face was slightly pink, and for some reason Ginny felt extremely aware that she was very close to him – she leapt away as if he was on fire, and scooted to the other edge of the cauldron, feeling as though she might as well have been burned.

"We'd better go, then, and get started," said Ginny, "come on." She hauled herself to her feet, dusting her trousers off. "You coming to the Chamber of Secrets, Myr?" she asked in a spooky voice, wiggling her fingers mystically.

"Yeah, why not," said Myrtle, standing, from where she had sat, cross-legged, dreaming of Sir Nicholas.

"What – you – you can open the Chamber of Secrets? I thought only Potter could do that," spluttered Draco.

Ginny, stopping beside the sinks, looked over at him. "Yes, Draco," she said sarcastically. "When being possessed by the Dark Lord, I have to wander around the castle with my knife and my hands stained with own blood to find the boy I fancy and ask him if he fancies speaking Parseltongue to let me revive the epitome of all evil." She shot him a withering look, and then ducked down to the level of the taps.

Ginny was very close to the silver tap. It was rusting; the only part that wouldn't fade was the tiny, perfect silver snake that weaved around and around the tap. She stroked the snake's head, mocking fondness for it, and then lowered her lips to the snake and whispered to it, "Sssaazanaasaall."

There was a tremendous creak, and then the sinks began to shift shapes. They moved forwards, turned slightly, forming a large circle, in the centre of which a gaping tunnel mouth sat. The main sink (the one that Ginny had spoken to) dropped down and slotted away underneath a grid. Ginny stepped onto the grid, and peered nervously down the tunnel. The only times she had ever been in this tunnel, she had either been:

1) Possessed, and therefore unable to be scared

Or 2) Flying back up it, holding onto Harry, and therefore too blinded by bliss at holding his hand to be scared

Now, however, she had neither Harry nor a demon-controlled mind, and it was quite scary. Ginny took a deep breath, and was about to step forwards, when she heard, "Ginny?"

She looked over at Draco, grateful that he had prevented her from jumping. "Yes?"

Draco looked ashamed; his face was rather pink. "Er," he stuttered, "be careful."

Ginny gave him an appraising look, but nodded. She stepped forwards… "Ginny?"

Okay, now it's just annoying. "Yes?" Ginny asked, struggling to keep her tone friendly.

Draco was vividly red. "Um, Ginny, this may be a bad time," he said anxiously, his entire face crimson; it gave an odd contrast to his pale hair, "but, I was, um, wondering… are you, maybe, free for the Hogsmeade trip… on… Valentine's Day?"

Ginny's heart lurched painfully in her chest, and before she could stop the flow of words to try and be more tactful, she blurted, "Are you asking me out?"

Draco's face only increased in colour. "No, er - I mean - no, but, sort of – no – I mean – not out," he babbled. "I'm not asking you out. I'm asking you… there."

Ginny frowned, not quite sure that she understood what he meant. "Er, okay," she said, "it might be a problem with Harry…" She then saw something that made her feel as though her heart was being pulled in two different directions: Draco's face fell slightly, and then he quickly covered it with a look of casual indifference. She also then found that she really didn't feel like going for a romantic date with Harry. Why not have fun with Draco? "Oh, screw Harry. I'll come with you. Pretend I'm sick or something, but I'll give him his present or he'll be really pissed."

Draco's face lit up, and Ginny felt it tug painfully at her heart. "Okay," he said brightly, "I'll – I'll see you later, then." He waved lamely, and returned to his potion, measuring out toad liver and dropping it into bubbling water.

Ginny smiled, and looked back down into the black hole beneath her. Foot forwards… "Ginny?"

"What?" asked Ginny exasperatedly, leaning back against the sink.

Draco grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," he mumbled, "be careful."

Ginny gave him a look. "Goodbye, Draco," she said pointedly, and stepped into the black abyss. Down, down, down she was falling, plummeting and spinning – then, a thump as she landed, hard, on her stomach, and then sliding madly through what seemed to be the very earth's core… as quickly as it had started, her ride of hell was over, and she was spat out into the Chamber of Secrets.

She skidded across fish bones, cutting tiny wounds on her arms and legs; then, she noticed cold. It was extremely cold, and damp with it too. Ginny trudged a few steps forwards, and looked up, in suspense for Myrtle's clumsy tunnel journey. A moment passed… two minutes… then a great clanking of pipes, and a screaming grey mass of uniform and hair shot out of the end, landing ungraciously on her bottom.

"Have fun?" Ginny asked teasingly.

Myrtle huffed as she got to her feet, too sulky to let Ginny help her up. "Where to now?" she said petulantly.

Ginny bit her lip – she wasn't actually sure. "I think it's this way," she guessed blindly, crunching through the chamber towards the only opening she saw. It had to be down there, right? Not altogether confident in herself, she moved towards it, Myrtle following silently. What seemed like hours walking through a narrow, pitch-black walkway lit only by an eerie glow of green could only really be minutes, Ginny mused, and she was considering a charm to see how far ahead the entrance was when the end of the passage came faintly into sight.

"Bingo," said Myrtle, apparently no longer grouchy.

It was a long, dark chamber that echoed even just Moaning Myrtle's two syllables, bouncing off every hard surface. Pools of water glimmering either side of the walkway, dark and sinister – Ginny did not want to find out how deep they were. Marble snakes curled around the outside, and between each snake were more little passageways, forming a labyrinth of darkness underneath even the Hogwarts dungeons. At the very end was a wide platform where Ginny could quite clearly waking up in a puddle of ink and blood, weak, tired, and with the boy of her dreams gasping at her as he neared death…

Ginny shuddered; in the center, spread out, and disappearing down into the water, was a huge, decaying Basilisk. "Gross," she said flatly, grimacing. It smelled terrible, and she pinched her nose tightly before stepping closer.

"You're not seriously going to touch that, are you?" Myrtle said, aghast.

"I have to," said Ginny in nasal tones, because of her pinched nose. She stepped closer… close… feeling as though she might be sick as she stood beside the giant rotting snake, she buried her fingernails underneath a scale and pulled it loose. As it was decomposing, it came off fairly easily. Ginny took three, stuffing them in her trousers pockets, before hurrying away, sucking in as much odourless air as she could.

Myrtle gave a cough that sounded oddly like, "drama queen."

Ginny frowned at her friend, but beckoned to her, and the two girls returned up the narrow chamber. It was dark, and due to the fact that Myrtle made no noise, all that Ginny could hear was the quiet squelch of her own quiet footsteps. She was painfully aware of what had happened here six years ago, and she was frightened.

Ginny's foot slid backwards suddenly, and she fell with a crash to the floor. It appeared that Myrtle was jumpier than Ginny, for the fifteen-year-old ghost shrieked, pulled at her wand, yelped, "Confringo!" and sent balls of yellow light flying throughout the chamber in all directions.

"MYRTLE!" Ginny yelled. "Don't do that, what on earth is your problem?" she got awkwardly to her feet, wincing; she had grazed her elbows and hands badly. Then she frowned as the slate beneath her feet trembled. "Myrtle, what did you do?"

Both girls looked up fearfully at the same time. Where Myrtle's spell had hit, crumbling holes were burning in the ceiling, the wall, and – Ginny's gaze fell on a particular crumbling spot, and her hazel eyes widened in distress – the pillars supporting the roof of the chamber, and all that was above. "Oh," said Ginny in a very small voice as the roof began to shake. "Well. That's… oh. Oh. Shit, run, Myrtle!" she screamed.

Myrtle merely looked confused; she was dead, so what was the problem? Then she remembered Ginny's tiny problem about not being dead, and not wanting to be dead. Mumbling something about tact, and not being so insensitive about death in front of her, Myrtle swooped along after Ginny, together in a frantic race to escape.

Rocks. Slate, onyx, obsidian – it all fell in a crazy waterfall of stone, pummelling the ground and chewing up the Chamber of Secrets like a starving beast. A deafening roar filled Ginny's ears, and all that was in her head was the screaming, get out get out get out, and the pounding of her footsteps, rapid and almost in sync with her fleeting heart.

Ginny sprinted, faster than she could ever recall running before, the amulet around her throat bouncing painfully on her collarbone with every pace, striking her skin and inflicting small bruises from its heavy swinging. Why – why – was the Chamber of Secrets so long? The tunnel mouth was in sight, but the rockfall was gaining…

"Go, Myrtle!" Ginny screeched; she was stumbling, tripping over her own feet, flailing her arms frantically, staggering into the passageway, rocks falling, she was going to be crushed, she was tripping again, staring into the black abyss as boulders dropped down towards her – her last movement, fingers flying up towards the amulet and curling tight around it –

THUD.

Heavy sounds, like how Ginny imagined it would sound for monstrous hailstones to strike an over-sized umbrella. The stones were hitting something, about a metre above Ginny's head, and then rolling away. It was as if she was in a giant, transparent dome through which the boulders could not hurt her. Rasping for breath, and barely believing that she was still alive, Ginny turned on her heel and fled through the tunnel. As she left, her protective bubble moved with her, and the rocks crashed down behind her.

"What the -?" Myrtle spluttered.

"No idea," bellowed Ginny, "go!"

Myrtle did not complain as she was absorbed into Ginny's ward, and they continued quickly towards the long tunnel. Glancing over her shoulder, Ginny drew her wand and pointed it up, up the tunnel back to Myrtle's bathroom. "Hold on," she yelled; Myrtle grabbed her wrist tight; "Circeruqius!"

There was a great sucking sound, like every plug in the world being pulled – Ginny and Myrtle shot upwards. It was how Ginny imagined it would feel to be a champagne cork. Flying up, like some bizarre, celestial bird, and then the Chamber of Secrets coughed them out into a disused girls' toilets.

"Whoa!" exclaimed Draco, jerking back at the sight of them. "Hello to you, too. Did you get the scales?"

Ginny merely moaned, dishevelled and bedraggled and wet, on the floor. Myrtle sat up, unaffected, and dusted herself off, humming a love song to herself. "Good to see you're so cheerful," Ginny complained, dragging herself to her feet, rubbing her back. She pulled the scales out of her pocket and threw them to Draco, not bothering to tell him what had happened in the Chamber. She had more important things on her mind – like where her 'protective dome' had come from, and how she had summoned it.

A/N: This is a normal-sized chapter. Hope it's better. Please review.