A/N: My apologies for the long wait in updating this story, and for the short chapter here. My only excuse is I got distracted by my other stories, work, and of course developing and running GryffindorTower.net, where I should have this story up there by this evening. FF.net is wonderful, but it really seems to not like my switiching from bold to italic print constantly, as I have found out from earlier chapters of this story, as well as "The Chaser," and "The Captain."
My thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this so far.
Chapter 8: Into the Diary
Ginny lay curled up on her bed, listening to the faint sniggers of the other girls in her dormitory as she tried desperately to block out the images of that evening. Harry laughing at her, Colin with his camera, Fred and George, Ron, Hermione, everyone doubled over in fits of hysteria. Shaking, she ran up to her room and into bed, pulling the curtains around her tightly. She had far gone beyond anger, and sat motionless in her bed, staring unseeing at the ceiling above her, counting the number of shadows that danced above her from the light in the window.
"Do you realize that we can still see the smoke coming from out of your curtains, Ginny?" Lisa chortled from the bed next over. Giggles from the other girls followed. Ginny never made a sound as she rolled over and fumbled for her only friend, quill, and ink and lit the end of her wand.
Help me Tom.
What's happened Ginny?
Oh nothing except that I've been humiliated by my own family and in front of Harry and the entire Gryffindor house tonight. The girls are still laughing here in the dormitory. If Percy wasn't so bloody nosy all the time, this wouldn't have happened. He made me take Pepper-Up potion tonight in the common room. Steam is still coming from my ears.
Poor Ginny. I remember taking Pepper-Up potion. I hated it. Everyone laughed at you didn't they?
Yes! And Harry was there too, laughing with my stupid brothers and Colin Creevy took a picture of me! I'm so mad, I can't even think of what to do to get even! Can you think of anything, Tom?
Of course I can, Ginny. The kids at the orphanage used to laugh at me too, but I taught them a lesson after my first year at Hogwarts.
Tell me what you did! You never tell me anything about yourself, Tom.
That's because there isn't much to tell, Ginny. I'm not much of a storyteller at that. But ok, I'll tell you what I did to those at the orphanage who were stupid enough to laugh at Tom Riddle. It was the summer after my first year and I was full of all the things I had learnt at Hogwarts. The Muggle kids there all called me a freak and picked on me. I was very little, even for a twelve year old boy. But I had powers they didn't have, powers they didn't understand, and I made sure they knew it.
What did you do Tom?
Let me show you.
Ginny let out a tiny gasp as the pages of the diary began to flip very fast, as though they were being blown by the wind, stopping at a page labeled August 1939. Then a small square formed on the page. Leaning in closer, Ginny could see that the square appeared to show the inside of a small room. Closer she leaned in, then closer, until finally her nose was touching the yellowed pages of the diary, and before Ginny could even think about what was happening, the window opened wider and she felt herself being literally sucked into the small square. Dizzy from the whirl of colors, Ginny opened her eyes to find herself in a very strange room. It was very old judging by the furnishings and not very well kept, either. Dust was on the floor and walls, cobwebs hung from the ceiling, the rows of beds lined up against both sides of the room were unkempt, covered with quilts that were patched and frayed. How had she got in here? What had happened? She turned around slowly, still a bit wobbly from the abrupt change in scenery, and gasped at what she saw.
She was not alone in the room.
There was a circle of boys, all as untidy and dirty as their surroundings. The appeared to be of all ages as well, from the very young to some about the age of Percy. Ginny froze, not knowing what to do, or how to get back to her dormitory. Should she say anything?
"Uh, excuse me?" she squeaked. Not one turned her way.
"Hello?" she said, a bit louder this time. "I don't know how I got here."
"Go on you freak!" said one of the boys at last, in a loud voice that made Ginny jump. "Do it!"
Chants of "Freak" and "Do it!" filled the chamber, and Ginny, curiosity overcoming her fear, carefully eased up to the circle, trying to peak over the heads of some of the smaller boys. She gasped.
In the centre of the circle was…Harry? Ginny blinked, standing up on tip-toes to get a better look. It certainly looked like Harry. The boy in the centre was very small and pale, with tufts of jet black hair that stuck out a bit, although not as bad as Harry's did. His eyes were not the beautiful green that Harry's were, but a rich dark brown, and unlike Harry, the boy wore no glasses.
"Tom Riddle! Are you causing trouble again with that magic nonsense? I'll have you cleaning out the toilets for a month on your hands and knees for this!" Ginny let out a small scream as a sharp, piercing voice was boomed from the doorway. An old woman, with a moth-eaten jumper, an ancient plaid skirt, wild grey hair loosely stuck in a bun, and ripped stockings trudged into the room, her old shoes clicking loudly on the worn wooden floor. The woman reminded Ginny of a hag she'd seen in Diagon Alley while shopping with her mum. Then Ginny gasped again once the old woman's words sunk in. Tom Riddle? Here? The circle of boys parted as the old woman entered the room, and Ginny quickly turned back to the small boy, who stood straight, his chin held up in a defiant sort of way, as though he dared the old woman to come nearer.
"Well?" demanded the old woman harshly. "What are you up to?"
Ginny watched Tom stare at the woman for a moment, a pensive expression on his face. "I have done nothing, Mrs Savage," Tom said quietly.
"Don't give me that, boy!" the woman snarled, advancing on Tom like a charging bull. "I know what you are! What have you done now?"
"Nothing," Tom said, more firmly. "David," and Tom raised a finger and pointed to an older boy with a pug face, "He was calling me a freak and I merely—" A sharp slap from Mrs Savage cut Tom's words off, the sound of skin striking skin echoing in the chamber. Ginny cried out as she saw his head twist from the force of the blow, and when he turned back to face the woman, an angry red handprint formed on his face.
Tom stared at the woman, his expression inscruitable. Ginny felt so sorry for him, he was so small and looked so pitiful that she almost wanted to give him a hug like her mom gave Harry. Ginn knew she'd be in tears if someone had ever hit her, but Tom reacted as though nothing had happened. The room was now very still, and the silence was almost deafening. Then something happened, something Ginny had never seen before in her life. Mrs Savage, along with the boy named David, suddenly rose high up in the air, their heads thudding against the ceiling, and began to contort into grotesque shapes, twirling around as though they were puppets. Ginny couldn't turn her eyes away from the horrid sight of the woman and boy, their expressions frozen in horror, as they rotated above the rest of the others, who had backed into a corner of the room. The most chilling thing, however, was not the figures in the air, but Tom's face, which was so calm and peaceful, and gave no hint of the sign that he was doing anything whatsoever. But Ginny knew Tom was doing something.
"Tom! Tom! Stop that!" She shouted, rushing forth to grab his arm. Her fingers went through him as though she were a ghost. "Tom! You have to get them down!" she screamed, trying again to get his attention. It was no use, but Ginny, now terrified, kept on yelling. Ginny, desperate turned to the figures in the air, still whirling around and around. Then the whole room seemed to spin along with them, and then it suddenly went black. Ginny felt herself falling, falling, until she landed with a soft thump on her bed in her dormitory, the diary settling face-down on her stomach.
Ginny lay there for a moment, breathing harshly in the silence of the darkened dormitory. She could hear faint snores coming from the beds around her, and the soft movement of someone turning over. Gingerly she sat up, and with a deep breath, she grabbed her quill and began to write again.
Tom? Tom!
Did you see, Ginny? The left me alone after that.
What did you do to them? How did they get down?
Oh, I left them up there for a while, just to make sure they learned their lesson. That Savage woman treated me with the respect a wizard deserves after that, I made sure of it. So did the others.
But Tom! You used magic! And you could have got into serious trouble!
Oh, I got a note from the Ministry telling me that I couldn't do magic in front of Muggles again without being expelled from school, but it didn't matter Ginny. I didn't need to do magic there after that. Don't you see? They left me alone after that. That's what I'm trying to tell you, sometimes you have to teach people not to bother you.
I can't do something like that, Tom! That was horrible! You could have hurt them!
Yes, Ginny it was. But I'm not suggesting you do something like I did. You couldn't anyway, you don't know that kind of magic just yet. I was just making a point…perhaps just a small trick or something to get everyone to leave you alone. Nothing that would hurt anyone. But you don't have to, not if you don't want to. I didn't mean to scare you.
Oh. At least I got to see you though. Did you know you look a lot like Harry?
Do I? How so?
Well, you both have black hair, you are both sort of short…you're still taller than me though. My brothers say that they got all the height in the family and by the time I was born, there was none left for me, so that's why I'm so tiny. Anyway, you and Harry both have black hair that sticks out, although yours didn't stick out as much as Harry's does. And you both are very pale, and both got a warning from the Ministry of Magic for performing magic in front of Muggles. I told you about the time Harry go a letter over the summer, didn't I?
Yes Ginny, you did.
Tom? I'm sorry the woman hit you. Did she hurt you?
No, not really. She's hit me before, so I knew what to expect. Don't worry about it, Ginny.
Ginny looked at the ink slowly fading away on the page. It was scary to think that Tom had to live with that kind of treatment from those people in the Muggle orphanage he lived in. Then Ginny's thoughts turned to Harry, and she wondered if he had a similar experience with those awful Muggles he lived with too. Ginny tried to imagine Harry standing there in Tom's place, his bright green eyes focused on those rotating figures, twirling around, twisting into strange shapes as though they were being guided into those positions by some unseen hand. Harry wouldn't have done something like that, no matter how horrid he was treated, Ginny just knew deep inside. But Tom, on the other hand, well…Ginny knew Tom could get quite mad sometimes, even through a diary. And Tom sometimes said mean things to her, although he quickly apologised for them afterwards. But Tom was her friend, Tom listened to her, and as the image of that woman slapping Tom flashed in her mind, Ginny had to admit that perhaps they did get what they deserved.
With that last thought echoing in her head, Ginny wrote:
Thank you, Tom. I'm glad I got to meet you. And maybe you were right, those Muggles did deserve what you did. Thank you for showing me that.
You're welcome Ginny. I'm sorry if I scared you. Why don't you try to get some sleep, things have a way of looking brighter in the daylight.
Yes, I'll try. Goodnight Tom.
Goodnight Ginny. I'll talk to you tommorrow.
Ginny closed her book and placed it in its normal place on her nightstand, along with her quill, ink and wand. Then she clutched her pillow to her and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the image of the whirling figures in the diary.