A/N: Sorry…. Definitely no Tom in this chapter… haha… considering that Tom existed, what, forty-eight years ago? Hahaha… Yeah… YAY! LOTS OF REVIEWS! Thankyewsss. Lalalaa… Um. I had something to say… what was it… um… OH YEAH! I'm saying sorry. This is a kind of boring chapter… not mucho interesto. Oh well. Read it anyway.
IMPORTANT NOTE!! YEW GUYYYSSS. I need more suggestion ideas for the new title of The Letter P. I only have three options so far. Pleeeease. Thanks!
Dedication: I am actually going to dedicate this to someone. :O I know, it's enough to make you die, it's so unusual. But not quite. Anywwaaayy. It's dedicated to Intricacy, who made me almost wet myself by laughing so much when I saw her review… Here, I'll even post the review….:
Very nice chapter. Lol, I was remarkably stupid when you said,
"Three words. Eight letters. One meaning.
WHERE ARE THEY?"
With my great counting skills, I thought that the three words were "where are they," and I was like... well, that was anticlimactic.
HAHAHHAHAHAA. Yeah. Anyway. Move on. Read the chapter. DO ITTTT! RAAAHAENJKGNANGFJDKSAGNFSDA. Sorry.
Disclaimer: Get the idea into your head. I don't own it. Now move on.
The Letter P
Chapter Sixty-Seven: P is for Pensieve
She looked up, tears still swimming in her eyes. She saw the exterior of Hogwarts castle. And she saw the new banners on the Quidditch stadium that hadn't been built until 1973. And she saw the rubble. And the smoke. And the flames. She was back. But absolutely nothing had changed.
He frantically searched the text. Three words. Eight letters. One meaning. WHERE ARE THEY? Tom's heart hurt. No, it didn't. He didn't have one. It was so painful that it had been removed. He couldn't breathe. WHERE ARE THEY? They weren't there. I love you. They weren't there. I love you. He'd never told her. I love you. She hadn't said it. I love you. He gave a groan as his breath suddenly came back and was replaced by absolute agony. He turned and ran away. I love you.
xxx
Something, somewhere, somehow, had gone horribly wrong.
Everything was exactly the same as when she'd left.
Ginny stared around. What had gone wrong? Sure, she hadn't killed Tom… but did they really expect her to? And anyway, if nothing had happened, then why had she come back? Her head was swimming. There was one person who could help her.
She hurried towards the castle, and began to run up the stairs that had become so familiar to her in a different circumstance. She threaded through the corridors, and was surprised when the door she came to at the top of the stairs read: Professor Albus Dumbledore as opposed to Armando Dippet.
Taking a deep breath, Ginny knocked on the door.
"Come in, Miss Weasley," said a tired voice from within.
Ginny stood outside, waiting to be allowed in.
"Miss Weasley?"
She gave a start. Oh yeah, she gasped. That's me. Reddening slightly, she pushed through the door and looked upon the weary form of Albus Dumbledore.
Whoa.
"It's weird seeing you with grey hair," she blurted out, before realising that she was being rude, and going even redder.
Dumbledore gave a wry smile. "You're back," he said simply.
Her shoulders slumped. "Why?" she asked. "I mean… you said that the chances of me coming back were tiny…"
The Headmaster sighed. "I made a mistake, and by the time I acknowledged my mistake, it was too late to contact you and let you know. It was the wrong spell I put on you to send you back in time. I didn't research the spell enough – you are sent back with a task in mind, and once that task has been completed, you return."
Ginny blinked. "Yeah, Dippet told me that - but I didn't do it!" she exclaimed. "In case you failed to notice, I accidentally-" she cut herself off, deciding that it was probably best not to tell him that she'd fallen in love with the Dark Lord.
"Fell in love with him," Dumbledore finished for her, watching her carefully over the tips of his steepled fingers. Seeing her gape, he raised his eyebrows. "I was there, Miss Weasley."
She looked shamefacedly at her feet.
"Now. The mistake… I failed to properly understand what the prophecy meant," said Dumbledore gravely. "Do you remember what it said?"
"Sort of…" said Ginny.
"Allow me to remind you: When He rises up again,
It will signal the very end.
Of wizards, and Squibs, and Muggles alike,
All destroyed because of His spite.
But there is one to save the world,
And that is a terribly ordinary girl.
Blessed by her ignorance,
rescued by insolence.
Born the day that He first fell,
Growing up strong, and to rebel.
The youngest and fairest and purest of seven,
His number.
To free the world,
She destroys His heart
Else, should our world
Fall apart.
Beware the girl with the signature red,
To save the world, you must heed what I said."
Ginny nodded. "It's a metaphor. It never actually mentions killing him."
"Well done. I see that Professor Dippet has indeed been over this with you," Dumbledore praised. "What I didn't see before, Miss Weasley, is that those words are not, in fact, literal. Death, destruction and dismay are not required. All that is needed is for his heart – the heart he had previously held – meaning a cold, aloof persona – to be destroyed." Dumbledore observed her over the top of his half-moon glasses. "He was supposed to fall in love."
Her heart stopped.
He loved me.
"So… if Tom, in theory," she said, her mouth very dry, "loved me… then that made me come back… so why has nothing changed?" She was very confused.
"Miss Weasley, I think that what you have failed to understand is that, indeed, you destroyed his heart. You changed him. You taught him friendship and love and compassion. Because of that, you left. And… because you left… you undid all the work that you'd done." Dumbledore had a severe look in his blue eyes. "Do you understand now?"
Oh no…
She recalled what he'd told her, that last night under the stars.
It's easier for him to lose control to svengali when he's emotional. When could you possibly get more emotional then when you lose your first love?
"I know that what happened was not your fault, but I feel I must make you aware of what you've done. During the War that you knew, for some period of time we held strength over the Death Eaters for one thing – we had a power that Lord Voldemort didn't. That power was love. However, in this time, he knows love. He knows its wonders and he knows its agony. He – is – invincible," Dumbledore stressed.
Ginny swallowed. "I – I just – he wasn't – he couldn't have been – he – he loved me?" she stammered.
"Step this way," said Dumbledore, standing. He moved to his pensieve and stood beside it, twirling the silvery waters with his wand. Ginny joined him. "May I produce for you… the Graduation Dinner at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, 1959."
They plunged into the pensieve.
For a while, everything was dark. Then the Great Hall wavered into view, and Ginny saw lines of seventh-years with their graduation hats upon their heads, all looking quite pleased. There was Eleanor, and her friends. There was the arrogant Ilivan Yaxley. And there, at the end, was Tom. Except that he looked exactly how Ginny had first imagined him. Tall, cold, distant, and uncaring to everyone around him. He'd let his shields fall for one person, and he'd built them up twice as high afterwards.
It hurt her to see.
"Congratulations!" cried Dippet after a few long and tearful speeches. "May we now welcome to the podium our very own Heads, Eleanor Fionn and Tom Riddle!"
There was scattered applause as the two seventeen-year-olds ascended to their speaking-point. First Eleanor rambled for a while about how much she loved Hogwarts – she was eventually taken from the podium, crying hysterically through her sorrowful laughter.
Then, finally, Tom stepped up. He looked down at his classmates. "I don't have anything prepared in the ways of a speech or a tearful rant," he said tonelessly. "I suppose I'll miss Hogwarts in one way or another. Goodbye." He stepped down from the podium again.
Dippet stepped back up. "And, finally, we have an anonymous speech that has been requested that I read out, for privacy reasons." He cleared his throat and brought out a rather long piece of parchment. "It is 'Silhouette'."
There was a silence of bated breath as everyone – including Ginny – wondered what he was going on about. Then he began, and Ginny recognised it instantly.
"A ballroom empties
No-one there
All that's left is he
He who fears to pirouette
Dance from the shadows
Silhouette, silhouette
A yellow primrose
Held afore
All that's left is he
He who lives for etiquette
Lingers in the shadows
Silhouette, silhouette
A night full of stars
A chill, a smile
All that's left is he
He who sings a solo duet
Singing in the shadows
Silhouette, silhouette
An empty classroom
Hands entwined
All that's left is he
Cold, aloof and hesitant
Smiling from the shadows
Silhouette, silhouette
A sheet of words
Listen intently
All that's left is he
Fading with his brief vignette
Sighing in the shadows
Silhouette, silhouette
Truly, madly, deeply
Gone
All that's left is he
His poem is not over yet
Silent as the shadows
Silhouette, silhouette
If you actually hear me,
Then, angel, hark to this
Silent as the shadows
Silhouette… silhouette."
No-one clapped. No-one cheered. They were in a stunned silence at the magnitude of raw emotion now seeming to crackle in the air. Professor Dippet applauded, startling everyone else into following his example…
Ginny was tossed back into reality. There were tears in her eyes.
"I didn't know," she said softly, her short russet eyelashes glowing with her crying. "I didn't know that he… he loved me. I didn't even know that I loved him until… until I was gone…"
Dumbledore merely looked at her. He had nothing to say. Emotions swirled in his eyes: anger – she'd destroyed the Wizarding World. Pity – it wasn't her fault. Guilt – it was actually his own fault. He sighed, and turned away, moving back to his desk.
The redhead didn't move. She didn't know what to do or say.
"I think I should talk to him," she said finally, softly.
The Headmaster's eyes snapped up to hers. "Certainly not! You will do no such thing."
"If I could just-"
"No!" He gave me a stern look, but then his wrinkled features softened. "It's late, Miss Weasley. You should get to sleep. Time-travel is exhausting."
Ginny realised that she was shattered. She nodded blearily.
"Do you want me to re-open the Gryffindor common room?" he enquired.
An instinctive Slytherin repulsion rose into her at the word. She didn't say anything, but her lip curled.
He frowned. "Slytherin?"
Ginny was torn. She would feel far more comfortable in the Slytherin house, but the memories there weren't worth it. If she slept as a Gryffindor tonight, she would be dragging herself back into the nightmares, back into the horror that she'd lived before. If she slept as a Slytherin, then she'd remembered the life that she'd, unconsciously decided to stay in forever, before being ripped away.
She wanted to shake her head, but forced herself to say, "Okay." She was a big girl. She could handle it.
Dark was already falling as she made her way through the familiar hallways. The halls were cold, not warmed by the flickering light of the torches on the walls. She stopped in front of where she knew the bust of Salazar Slytherin to be. It was one of the only statues still intact.
"Ophiuchus," she murmured by instinct.
The snake twined away from Salazar's stone neck. "That has not been the password for decades," it hissed.
Ginny was too tired to argue. "Please. Let me in."
Reluctantly, the snake twisted back into place. The bust disappeared, and the door opened. She stumbled through, and looked around at the common room.
The fireplaces were empty of even ashes. Cobwebs lined the walls and dust was layered on every surface. The sofas were covered by dark sheets, to protect the furniture. There was broken glass on the floor and parchment. It was strange. Ginny hadn't thought that the Slytherins would have been affected by the attack of… The words Lord Voldemort wouldn't even be spoken in her brain. It hurt too much. She couldn't. There was a gaping hole in her chest, but she momentarily stuffed it with meaningless chatter from her thoughts. On her way towards the dormitories, she stretched out a slim hand and trailed one finger through the dust, creating a perfectly straight line. Her eyes followed the line once she'd lifted her hand away. Then she silently traced in the neatest handwriting she could get away with, the word love.
Quiet filled her ears as she looked over what she'd written. Love. What a silly thing.
The hole in her chest hurt, and she resisted the urge to curl into a ball and twine her arms around herself tightly to try and stop the aching.
She hurried onwards, towards where she'd slept for only a few months – yet it felt like her whole life.
The beds would be cold. She knew it instantly. No-one had slept in them for a very long time. They, too, were covered in sheets, but Ginny tugged one off, releasing a cloud of dust into the air. She coughed and spluttered for a moment, pinching her nose. Then she looked morosely at the bed, and climbed in.
It was indeed freezing. Ginny thought that it would be difficult to sleep, but it was surprisingly easy to drift away…
The green light flashed brighter than anything, and a single tortured scream rose up from everyone present as their only saviour fell. Ginny was screaming louder than anyone. The green eyes of her first love widened, bulged, and then his glasses fell. And Harry tumbled forwards lifeless; Ginny ran to him, screaming, screaming, screaming –
She was running to him as fast as she could, faster than she'd ever run before – why? Because he rolled over, and he was taller than usual, and thinner; his glasses fell off and his scar faded and suddenly he was Tom. Blood was coming from the corner of his mouth-
"TOM!" she screamed, but arms caught her and pulled her away. She was sobbing as she turned around to see who'd caught her. And she was looking up into the comforting face of her boyfriend, just as he'd been when she'd left him. "Tom," she sobbed, but then he smirked, and his lips twisted… twisted… and he was getting paler, and his eyes were narrowing and turning red-
"NO!" she screamed. "DON'T! IT'S NOT YOU!"
Voldemort pulled his wand from his black robes and pointed it at her heart. She couldn't breathe. He wouldn't kill her. He couldn't. "I LOVE YOU!" she shrieked at him. Someone dived in front of her to protect her – Tom.
Wait. What? She knew then that she was dreaming, as there couldn't be Tom and Voldemort simultaneously, but all rational thought left her when she saw red light flash.
"CRUCIO!"
"NO!" Tom was writhing on the floor, screaming – then he was shaking, and his eyes were black, red-rimmed…
"Tom?" Ginny whispered. He stood, towering over her, an evil, twisted smirk on his face, evil glowing in his blank, unfocused eyes. Then he turned his wand on her- "TOM!" Someone grabbed her, dragging her away. It was Grace, and right behind her, Alden. And then, in the distance, Harry and Ron and Hermione, beckoning for her to hurry.
"You're safe now," soothed Harry. "Ginny? I love you."
Ginny looked up in alarm. "What? But – I love Tom. You love Luna!" she whispered in horror. No, this wasn't fair. Not after she'd gotten over him.
"GINEVRA, I LOVE YOU!" yelled Tom from afar, his eyes sparkling with life and love. Grace and Alden and Flora and Eleanor were all beside him, grinning.
"Tom!" she cried.
"What, so you're just going to leave us?" demanded Ron. Behind him was Hermione, Harry, Luna, the whole Weasley family.
"NO!" she sobbed. "This isn't FAIR! I want you BOTH, don't make me CHOOSE, this is just a dream… it's just a dream."
Light exploded, and blood was everywhere, and they were all dead. "Now you can't have either," sneered Lord Voldemort, and she was SCREAMING-
Her hands were in agony, she couldn't see, she was awake now, it was okay- Why did her hands hurt? She was pounding on the door, trying to escape, having in her sleep already tried to run away.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" she screamed, tears streaming like a waterfall down her face. Shadows were everywhere. It was Voldemort and the evil Tom and Ron and Harry and Grace and Alden, trying to grab her. "GO AWAY!"
Then the light faded from her eyes and she passed out in a heap on the ground, grateful for peace.
xxx
A/N: Aww. What a twisted childhood she had. Cute. Haha. Sorry, that was creepy. Anyway… my heart's crippled by the pain that I keep on closing, you cut me open and I, keep bleeding, keep keep bleeding looooooove… 0o I felt like singing. I'm sorry. Hehehe. I'm bored. RAWWWWRRR. Sorry. I'm in a weird mood. Anyyywaay. Please review! And I'll update. That's a fair exchange, right?
Next Time:
She felt like one of those tragedies who could go into shock at any moment.
A week had passed, and still Ginny had no solid plot for what she intended to do. Yeah, she had the basics – waltz up to her ex-boyfriend, say hi, explain that she wasn't dead, and then ask him nicely not to take over the world. Sort of.
XXX
A: Knock-knock!
B: Who's there?
A: You-Know!
B: You-Know-Who?
A: RAAAAHHHH!
Hahaaha. That joke was courtesy of an anonymous reviewer called Alex. With a full-stop. Skills…
BOO!
If you read this far, you get a cyber-cookie. :D