Deathworlds
Disclaimer: I own myself and my poetry. Unfortunately, neither are in this. So yes, J.K. Rowling owns all this stuff. (I'm not jealous! Really!!!) Oh, yeah. Except for the Overworld. I don't know who owns that, except for my guess of the God, Goddess, and everybody else, but I'm not about to start a flaming religious discussion. So yeah. Oh, yeah, I own Eya, too! *grins* And whomever else I decide to pull into this little thing...
A/N: This is a sequel to a story by my friend Genevieve (pen name Giliath) called Only In Dreams. Or something. It will probably still make sense if you haven't read Genevieve's story. Basically, it's a sequel to Chamber of Secrets. Tom Riddle has taken up residence in Ginny's head, and he secretly kissed her in the Chamber. Anyway, check out what Genevieve writes- it's reallyreally cool. I guarantee. She's a genius, seriously! By the way, Tom breaks his little silver thread- which is gold for wizards and witches in this story- while he's in the Overworld. Now, I know that would kill a normal person, but remember? This is Tom Riddle! Oh, and by the way, I got writer's block around page twelve... that's not in this chapter, though... so if you have any suggestions, I'd appreciate them. I know this isn't my best writing. ANYway...
(Ahem? Where's my drum roll???) And presentING...
The story without a good name! (c'mon people, CHEER!)
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Chapter I: Death Becomes
'I'm still here,' he told her. 'I'll always be here.' Ginny shrank back against the coolness of a boulder, heart pounding with fear at the sight of him. Tom's mouth twisted into a smile, the blackness of his eyes capturing the girl.
'I thought you were my friend,' she said, narrowing her eyes. 'I told you my secrets. I thought you were my friend.' Riddle laughed sardonically, wind tugging at his robe. 'I trusted you.'
'You knew you were gullible,' he replied. 'Don't expect me to apologize. You know who I am and who I became. I've killed more people than you know of and I didn't even finish with you. Be glad that your precious Harry Potter (here his expression contorted hatefully) came and rescued you before it was too late. Because I sure wouldn't have saved you.'
'I know,' whispered Ginny, and turned.
She woke up curled in one of Madame Pomfrey's beds, slowly feeling more alive as time went by. From the still darkness of the night, she guessed it was very early in the morning, perhaps one or two AM, and the only sounds were the stirrings of other patients, perhaps waking from their basilisk- induced comas. Basilisk... Her dream came to her in a flash, and Ginny shivered beneath the blankets somebody had heaped upon her. They were much too warm, actually, but there was nothing like Voldemort to produce a chill in a person...
Perhaps a walk would help, she told herself, pulling the comforter close around her shoulders. Filch didn't exactly encourage students to wander the halls at night, but then, she found it hard to believe that Dumbledore would give her much of a punishment after her... ordeal. I just won't be caught, she told herself. Anyhow, the twins have gotten in loads of trouble and nobody seemed to care!
Her hand was startlingly pale against the wine-coloured velvet curtains enveloping the four-poster bed. Even her freckles seemed to have receded into the deathly whiteness her skin seemed to have taken on. In the cold brightness of the moon just after midnight, her face appeared ghostly in the mirror hung opposite her bed. Luckily, it seemed to be asleep and made no comment. Hogwarts mirrors could be rather insulting while they were awake. She glanced at it one more time, and reeled back in shock.
Tom Riddle's face stared back at her.
Ginny crumpled to the floor.
'You know, if you wanted to get away from me, fainting was not the best idea,' Riddle said conversationally, leaning against the moss-laden trunk of a tree stained silvery with moonlight.
'Look, I saw your face in the mirror. What was I supposed to do? Cluck like a chicken? It's not like I have control over when I faint. I doubt that even you do, Mr. High-And-Evil Wizard. What were you doing there, anyway? And where the heck is this place?' she replied, too irritated and tired to be scared. She stared him in the eye, leaning against a second tree nearly identical to his. Tom glanced at her, amused.
'Cluck like a chicken if you want. Anybody can learn to control their reflexes- possibly with the exception of some of those fluff-brained Muggles, but certainly a Gryffindor witch like yourself could. And I told you your dreams were too boring- this is the Forbidden Forest, and much more to my liking.' The girl was interesting when she stopped being a fearful bunny rabbit, Riddle mused. He could live with this arrangement, as long as he controlled the dreams. Maybe he'd even let her watch clouds, once in a while. She was worth keeping around...
'If you say so,' Ginny was replying. 'Now, will you please get out of my dream? I'd like to get some rest, thank you very much.' Riddle laughed, flicking the tip of the wand that had just materialized in his hand.
'Fine. You can go have one of your butterfly dreams if you want... I have your entire life with you.' With that, the forest faded into the absurdity of a normal dream.
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The next time Ginny awoke, it was morning, and sunlight was seeping through the cracks in the curtains. She sat up, repressing a groan as she discovered that all her bones ached horribly, and pulled herself to her feet. The mirror showed her to be much thinner than she ever remembered herself, and paler to boot. She was almost skeletal, she thought, blinking in surprise. Unfortunately, the mirror was away now.
"Ach, you look horrible! What a sight!" it exclaimed. Typical of a Hogwarts mirror.
"Oh, you shut up," she told it irritably. "You're not the one with an idiot floating around in your head." The day was not getting off to a good start. Ginny didn't think she could handle classes today, but there was nothing much else to do. Maybe she'd just sleep for a while...
This time, her dream appeared to be normal. Ginny glanced around at the scenery, searching for signs of Tom. She seemed to be in some kind of ballroom, only there were gilded pipes growing out of the walls. There didn't seem to be a floor, either. Looking down made her a bit nauseous, in fact. It was a sheer drop.
Some odd music was playing- it was a mix between the school song and something else, and was sung to some extremely tortured-sounding music. Eerie. She was waltzing slowly with a man she had not noticed before. He was wearing molding, lacy hot pink dress robes- rather like the ones Ron would have to wear, Ginny realized, giggling. Luckily, he was not her brother. She couldn't place him, actually. Something about him was familiar, but he wasn't anybody she knew. Including Harry, she thought mournfully. Brown hair, green eyes... Wait. That wasn't right! Now he had black hair. Black eyes. Tom Riddle??? Somehow, she wasn't alarmed, however. Ginny danced with him a while longer, looking around at the pipes and the huge mosaic of a flaming bird on the wall as they passed them. Things were taking on a quite surreal atmosphere, and Ginny realized she was looking down on herself and Tom from above. The figure which was she was wavering as she danced, and her steps were becoming more and more dreamlike. Still dancing, Riddle did not seem to notice, until finally, Ginny slumped to the floor. Although there wasn't one, exactly... Finally, Tom stopped dancing, looking down at the Ginny-heap with an unreadable expression on his face. He stooped to gather her up, brushing her hand with his lips, and let her fall. They vanished. Ginny was left looking at an empty ballroom for a second or two, and then everything disappeared.
Ginny sat up in bed, breathing hard. Something had scared her- or no, not scared her. Then what was it? A dream? She couldn't remember... Something about Riddle. Only she had the feeling that it wasn't another dream like she had last night, but a more... normal... one. Shrugging, she tried to let it go, but the question still nagged at her.
Pulling back the heavy curtains for the third time that day, Ginny was informed by the mirror, in more ways than one, that she was still paler than normal, although the dark circles her eyes had sported this morning were fading. Shouldn't I have returned to normal by now? she asked herself, bewildered, as she stood up and stretched. Madame Pomfrey must not have heard me wake up, or she'd be here. I wonder where she is, anyway? Probably tending to the basilisk victims, Ginny realized guiltily. She was not proud of the part she had to play in the attacks, however innocent. Darn that Tom Riddle!
As if summoned by her thoughts, Madame Pomfrey bustled into the room, dark circles identical to Ginny's gracing her eyes. "What are you doing awake!" she cried, alarmed. "Sit down, sit down! Now, you're going to have to rest a while to get better. Just lie down for a while," she said, ignoring Ginny's half-hearted protests.
"But... I have nothing to do!"
"Rest, my dear, rest," Madame Pomfrey replied serenely. "Now, I can get you anything you like from the library, or you could take a bath right now. How's that?"
"Erm... Bath first," Ginny said, looking down at the filth that still clung to her. "But in the meanwhile, could you get some books about You-Know-Who for me?" Perhaps she could find some clue to the odd dream she did not remember in the books...
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In the baths, the filth fairly floated off of her, turning the water in her vicinity grey within moments. An undine flitted anxiously over the water, looking worried as the water became dirtier and dirtier. Ginny blushed, sinking deeper beneath the iridescent bubbles flowing from a brass faucet- the first-years usually did not get such luxuries, but Madame Pomfrey, too Ginny's great relief, judged it better to let her use the teachers' baths to avoid other, potentially curious, students. They were private and lit only by a few torches in wall sconces, making Ginny feel all the more secure. Interaction with Madame Pomfrey, the mirror, and Tom was more than enough for her, right now. Having your brain invaded by somebody who had tried to kill you was rather draining.
The water was warm... divine... firelight and shadows flickered over Ginny's eyelids as she sank back against the edge of the tub. So peaceful... She was in an almost trance-like state, floating in the water, feeling almost weightless. An image began to gather at the edges of her vision...
Ballroom.
...
Coughing up water, Ginny pulled herself up into a sitting position. He... kissed me??? Tom Riddle kissed me??? Kissed me? Lord Voldemort doesn't have a heart, though! How could Tom?
I don't understand.
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