Author's Note/Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They
belong to the crafty, talented J.K. Rowling. The only thing I own is this
computer and maybe even my sanity (if I can find it that is). Hopefully
this story will make decent and steady progression. Flames are welcome,
but just be assured of this one little fact. they will be later on used to
roast my marshmallows to a fluffy, golden brown state. I am looking
forward to receiving constructive criticism and suggestions, so feel free
to review and tell me what I could do to make it more enjoyable to read
(make sure to tell me what you thought also!). Without further ado, I will
continue on with my fanfic. If you have any questions whatsoever; you can
place them in the reviews.
P.S. I also love feedback ^_~
Chapter 2
Harry paced frantically around the furtive cave on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Once belonging to Sirius, this was the only place Harry could think of that would surely be secluded enough from wandering eyes to hold such an intimate and private conversation. He was sure that Dumbledore would think to meet him here and only here, yet he was getting worried, as Dumbledore was now twenty minutes late.
With a sudden pop Dumbledore appeared in the dank, dim cave looking rather weary and dismantled.
"I'm so glad you could make it, Albus. I was getting worried that you wouldn't come, and I almost talked myself out of waiting. This is something I'm not very willing or ready to discuss."
"I can quite understand, Harry, what kind of trouble you're going through, and why you aren't ready to discuss it. This might be as horrible or even more so than the last incident of someone dying seemingly at your hands, because I'm assuming you and Ginny were rather close. On a more unimportant note, I apologize for being late. The Ministry, for some odd idea, thinks I have all the answers seeing as that I've been contacting you since you have left Hogwarts. But, why would I be hear if I knew it all?" Dumbledore removed his cloak and fiddled with his glasses until they sat straight on his long, crooked nose. This had always bewildered Harry, as he could not understand how they could ever sit straight on something so crooked. "Lemon drop, Harry?"
"Oh, no thank you, Albus. I'm rather queasy as it is, trying to recall every possible detail I could. Some stick out rather so vividly that I wish they'd just go away."
"I know, Harry, but for all our sakes, maybe it's for the best that they are with you now." Dumbledore brushed a bit of dust from off of his robes, and took a seat across from Harry. "Anytime you're ready to begin, Mr. Potter."
(A/N: This story will now continue in Ginny's POV, not my point of view! Unless I indicate that it will switch, which I will tell you if it does, it will remain her POV. I am not in the mood in figuring out why ff.net won't show my words that I have indicated as italicized on Microsoft Word as italicized when all of you read it. Nor am I in the mood to figure out how to do so. Since I wasn't planning on making this entire flashback in italicized text I will just leave it at that. Unless any of you reviewers out there would kindly tell me how to make it look exactly as it is in Microsoft Word. And I will royally cringe if it has anything to do with an HTML code.)
I sat in my favorite, oversized chair located beside the common room fire. It cast a comforting glow upon the chair, and roasted my skin ever so slightly. I guess you could say I'm found here every day after dinner, absorbed in the entwined, vivid words and everlasting meanings that is muggle poetry. But why must the common room be so distracting? Really, I can't read under these conditions.
Oh, I see now. It's just Fred and George acting the part of hero all over again. I swear, someday they'll give Harry a run for that title. But for now, they're just my dimwitted elder brothers, that apparently make so much money it swells both their heads to the size of nearly exploding balloons. Well, at least they were nice enough to get our dear, ickle Ronniekins and I some new dress robes. I love mine; they're a soft, pale green with traces of silver. The neckline has an elegant, generous swoop and also a pair of matching gloves. Sometimes I don't know whether to kick my brothers' arses, or to embarrass the bloody gits by smothering them with kisses.
Look at them, patting Harry on the back. Of course, we all thought he did an absolutely marvelous job in the Quidditch game today versus Slytherin, and you'd have to be a stupid prat not to think so. But they're there, milking it for all it's worth. Sometimes I think they're so nice to Harry because they want a chunk of fame off of that huge block he carries in his back pocket, but now I see they may have grown to like him. They could've taken after me at least, liking him at first glance, but I guess it was just my job and my job only from the start.
Sometimes they get attention without even prying for it. Fifth years look up to them, first years adore them. I don't know why they keep asking for more. It was quite embarrassing when they flunked multiple times, and didn't graduate. It's even more embarrassing considering they're in the same year as Harry is; and I'm only a year behind. And the worst, most foul part is that mum didn't even get that mad at them! She said that it's not like they blew off studying completely and that they were 'doing something constructive' and 'at least they're not throwing away their lives.' Or how about this classic line! 'True, they're not as successful as Percy' and 'we know they're not the most studious kids.' I about hurled right into Moaning Myrtle's stall.
Oh great, now they've just declared a celebration in Harry's honor! Please, I don't see how anyone can put up with parties anymore. It seems the only thing that's been going on for TWO STRAIGHT WEEKS have been parties. I know that I'm dead sick of it. 'A toast, in Harry's honor of course.' Give me a break! More like 'A toast, thanking us for bashing your brains in with annoying loud music and treats to make you bloat for two straight week, oh and also a small congrats to Harry for his victory.'
I'm absolutely sick of it, sick of it all. Fred and George, the first failing students to ever set foot on Hogwarts ground and they get praise and adoration. Me, Ginny, their sister who has been dubbed 'squeamish and shy' by the one person she cares about most and what does she get? Ignorance, petty comments and a wave of the hand at a friendly greeting or a 'not now, I'm busy', that's what she gets. No fame, no glory, only a facade of a real girl in Harry's eyes. And you know what, this particular Ginny is sick of it all.
I marked my place and set my book down quietly on the table, not knowing why. I could have slammed the book down and nearly shattered the glass tabletop, and yet still no one would notice. Hell, I could do a freakishly mutated chicken dance in my bra and underwear and still no one would notice. Well, I wasn't in the mood for reading anymore anyway. So I packed up my stuff and headed toward the dormitories.
Yes, there goes silly little Ginny, all huffed and puffed over something so terribly and utterly stupid. Honestly, I don't know why I get so upset over things like this. Fred and George are my brothers, and I love them to bits, no matter what. But sometimes I wonder if they really do love and look out for me. They seem so pretentious and self absorbed lately that I just don't know what to do about it. But then again, have I ever had a clue as to what to do about it?
I made my way clumsily up the steps to my ever so humble (yet surely empty) common room. This did not improve my mood one bit, seeing that books kept threatening to fall from the opening that I was just too lazy to close. One landed with a profound thud on my toe, and I let out a loud yelp. Of course no one would notice, because at this point in time music was blaring as loud as could be, and 'meek little Ginny' could not be heard above it all. As soon as one book fell out, it apparently showed the other books the way to freedom, because all of them tumbled out, creating a loud (but not loud enough) and terribly distracting (yet no one notices) scene. I bounded down the steps to my books, when from out of nowhere came Ron's damned new rat. It honestly scared the shit out of me, because the last thing I remember was falling to the bottom of the stairs.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I woke up dizzy and startled about the fact at lying at the bottom of the stairs. After a couple of minutes when my vision cleared enough so I could stand, I mustered what was left of my withering strength (why it was so little I had no clue), yet found I couldn't stand. Actually, I found I also had a broken leg. Above all obvious things, I think my assumption to be correct, seeing as there is a freaking bone sticking out of my leg!! I was too horrified to scream, and somehow it willed itself to stay put, latched onto something in my throat. Then it came. I quickly pressed my palm to my forehead, experiencing the absolute WORST headache in my entire life. Putting pressure on it might help relieve the stress a little, but then it started to hurt mortifyingly, and tingle like mad.
Then I freaked out royally, worse than when I realized my leg was broken.
My palm had blood on it.
Not only did it have blood, but it had a LOT of blood.
I ran my hands through my hair nervously, mentally and silently freaking out. But there was something different about my hair, something. sticky.
I took my hands out of it, grossed out. And then I saw it.
My hair. It was. matted. with blood. My fingers were doused with traces of blood. My hands involuntarily flung to the back of my neck.
Blood.
The only word that came to thought. The only word I could think. The only word I could feel. The only word I could breathe, sweat or smell.
Then I felt a gushing stream sear my back. And that brought me out of my revere of horror. It shoved some sense into me.
The Hospital Wing. that's where I should be. 'And just how do you suppose you'll get there?' A nasty little voice in me head brought me back to the REAL reality of it all. 'Your leg is broken, you can't possibly walk. You could scoot along down, but we'd rather not have another incident of you falling down the stairs by some childish means of transportation, now would we?'
Nasty little bugger of a thought. If it weren't me who'd thought it, I would have been more hotheaded than accepting and realizing. At least I can except my faults, and not hide them up or have someone hide them for me, unlike my 'sheltered' twin brothers. Well, getting back to my means of transportation to the Hospital Wing, I suppose the only possible solution would be to scream, seeing as that no one is likely to find me over here anytime soon, away from the party.
There, a scream. Not only a scream, but a loud, blood curdling scream. Hopefully an attention-getting scream at that.
But alas, all attempts of getting noticed seem futile. Why not scream some more? No one would notice, so I wouldn't be told to shush. Wow, how thoughtful. Kudos on thinking positively, self. No one would tell you to shush.
I must have fallen into a sarcastic version of a revere, because then I noticed the severity of the situation. My leg was broken, and there could be a possible crack in my skull, which is the assumption I'm leading towards right now considering at the amount of blood in my hair, on my forehead, on my neck, and now residing on my back. Thoughts of death rushed through my head like a mad river. And that's when it all happened.
Someone, thankfully, heard my screams.
Professor McGonagall came bounding from the outside world, and screamed something fierce at all who took up space in the common room. The music was turned off, and the party came to an unwelcome stop. Finally, maybe someone will notice the state of health I'm in, and aid me to my rightful destination.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I awoke once more, seemingly after a longer period of time. And if nothing more or nothing less, I was most definitely the most confused being to walk the face of the planet.
What is the sun doing out at this hour? Why am I still at the stairs? Certainly I should be in the Hospital Wing?
'Ginny, it's morning, and no one came for you. They LEFT you lying here, literally in pieces. No one cared, Ginny. Someone had to have seen you lying at the bottom of the stairs leading to where everyone SLEEPS. No one bothered to come to your aid. Everyone was too selfish and inconsiderate to help someone who was in need of aid, someone who could possibly DIE.'
"Die?" I was so startled and scared at my own thoughts that I spoke aloud.
'Yes Ginny, you could die. I wouldn't be surprised if your head was still bleeding.'
My hands acted on their own again, flinging up to my hair. It was crusty, filled with blood, but I found a rather horrifyingly large spot that was still strikingly wet. Then I moved down to my neck, and there was the same scary substance. My neck was still undoubtedly bleeding.
So I did what anyone else would do in this situation.
I panicked.
Then I'd remembered my brilliance that summer. a flashback, really.
There I was, sitting on my bed, holding my beloved charm bracelet. The last charm on it signified a diary, a memento of the Chamber of Secrets. Although a horrifying and repulsive time, it was a significant event in my pathetic life. Thinking of the Chamber got me thinking of Harry, and how heroic he'd been. How he'd risked his life to save mine. I grasped the bracelet tight and willed myself to be there to save him from his wretched relatives, just like he'd saved me from Tom. And then without a doubt, I was standing in the front lawn of number four, Privet Drive.
My charms. they were magic ones.
They combined with the strongest of emotions coursing through my body, along with the thing I most desired.
Sort of a. emotion portkey.
Then I looked down, and saw a bright, glimmering miracle under dried blood. I was wearing my charm bracelet.
Then I focused on the strongest emotion that I was feeling. Anger, loneliness, and most of all.fear.
I winced in pain and then thought about how wonderful it would be to be being treated by Madame Pomfrey right now. How wonderful skele-gro would feel compared to this any day. Just to know that someone is willing to take care of me. even if it isn't my family or friends. The feeling of someone caring. to be tended to with the utmost care.
~*~*~*~*~*~
My sight became sharper, and I winced at the piercing agony my body was feeling. But there was one thing I was well aware of, my surroundings had definitely changed, I was in a bed at the Hospital Wing.
"M-M-Madame Pomfrey?"
"Yes dear? Are you in need of more chocolate?"
I glance over at the nightstand lying next to the bed. On it was a secreted chunk of chocolate wrapped in layers upon layers of pink foil. It hardly looked like chocolate at all from the outside. I unwrapped it and took a glutinous bite out of it, scarfing it down like I hadn't eaten in ages. Chocolate had never tasted so good.
"What happened when I got here?"
"You looked quite weary, with no energy left at all, and you were in horrible, terrifying condition. Your leg was broken beyond belief, and your skull had almost filled entirely with blood. Frankly, I thought we were going to lose you. You've been unconscious for three days."
Oh.my. . . .
Before I knew it, the putrid taste of puke rushed up my throat and onto the sterile floor, making an orange and red mess. Red being even more blood.
"Oh dear, let's help you to the bathroom and get you cleaned up."
"I don't think I need assistance to the bathroom, Madame Pomfrey."
"I'm not sure, Gin, your leg has just completed healing, and it should be really stiff and unstable."
"I'm fine."
I got out of bed slowly. Madame Pomfrey was right; my leg was wobbling violently under me, about to give away at any second. But I made it to the bathroom without collapsing, a piece of vomit being my inspiration.
"Do you happen to have any food left? I'm really quite hungry." Ginny had no need of words, however, as her stomach did most of the talking. It growled fiercely and impolitely, demanding food for fear of imploding.
"Of course dear! You must be starving! I'll just notify the house elves upstairs and I'll be right down with some dinner for you. It's about time you've come to!"
I watched Madame Pomfrey hustle out of the room. It seems like she hasn't had a patient in weeks, or one that couldn't be tended to for days. Well, I'm glad I gave her something to do then, I wouldn't want to prolong her from her work. and as I can see, I'll need a lot of attention, and an extraordinary amount of time to recover properly.
Then I noticed a flash of purple color out of the corner of my eye. I turned to face it, and apparently I missed something while I'd grabbed the chocolate in my ravenous attack of hunger. It was a get well card.
Ginny,
I feel absolutely terrible about what happened. Nothing this horrible should happen to a sweet girl like you, Ginny. I saw you the night of the party. I tried to get someone else's attention, but no one seemed to be listening. So I did what I did best. I snapped some pictures of the condition you were in and sent them to the Hospital Wing, but the time they got there, it had been reported that you had already been taken care of and attended to, yet you were out cold. I had asked them who brought you there, but Madame Pomfrey said you had come unassisted. Weird, huh? I was so worried that you were terribly injured, and I'm so sorry that I couldn't have been of any assistance sooner than I had been. I was also worried that you had died, Ginny, because I'd been in contact with Madame Pomfrey all the while you weren't awake, and she said your pulse had slowed down at a tremendous rate, threatening your life. You'll make me the happiest person in the world if you live, Ginny. Please, send me an owl telling me you'll be okay as soon as you're done reading this. Get well, Ginny. I wish you the best of luck in your recoveries.
With Love, Colin
I set the lush purple card down, soaking in every word as if I learned by osmosis. Colin, he sent me a card. He sent me a beautiful card. I'm taking his words to heart, seeing as they melted it already.
Someone out there. someone out there cares for me. If not even my family, if not even Harry, someone out there cares. Wait. my family.
My family didn't even send a card. Madame Pomfrey would have told me if I'd had visitors, surely she'd remembered whom she'd shooed away from my bedside. But no, as I look around, this was the only card I saw left for me. Not one friggin' card from my family. not one. Does no one care about me anymore? Does no one love me? Have they disowned me? Do they find me so petty and worthless that they choose to ignore me, choose to will me away?
The decay of my happy thoughts and memories slowed down unwillingly once I saw what Madame Pomfrey had brought me for dinner. A scrumptious portion of all of my favorite foods wheeled its way to my bedside, and I could never say in all my life that food had tasted so good.
As I was polishing off the last of my food, the scariest thought entered my mind. Nothing so corrupted had ever breached the surface, and nothing so foul had ever wandered so deep.
I wanted Fred and George to pay, and I would give anything to make it happen.
Author's Note: Thankfully this chapter was longer than the previous one! Trust me, the chapters following this will be even longer if I can actually continue to develop the plot, I promise you that! Please review; if you do, I'll love you forever! ^_~
A warning to everyone who has read this chapter: If you are not a fan of sad stories, I suggest not continuing to read this. This will gradually get more depressing and sadder. If you do like these stories though, I suggest in the future after reading a chapter or two, that you read some extremely fluffy fic. I seriously cried when Cedric died in the fourth book, and I think I'm going to cry in some parts while writing this fic. But, I'm a softy, and this probably might not affect you at all. Just a warning though, you do not have to take it seriously ^_~
Zulu
P.S. I also love feedback ^_~
Chapter 2
Harry paced frantically around the furtive cave on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Once belonging to Sirius, this was the only place Harry could think of that would surely be secluded enough from wandering eyes to hold such an intimate and private conversation. He was sure that Dumbledore would think to meet him here and only here, yet he was getting worried, as Dumbledore was now twenty minutes late.
With a sudden pop Dumbledore appeared in the dank, dim cave looking rather weary and dismantled.
"I'm so glad you could make it, Albus. I was getting worried that you wouldn't come, and I almost talked myself out of waiting. This is something I'm not very willing or ready to discuss."
"I can quite understand, Harry, what kind of trouble you're going through, and why you aren't ready to discuss it. This might be as horrible or even more so than the last incident of someone dying seemingly at your hands, because I'm assuming you and Ginny were rather close. On a more unimportant note, I apologize for being late. The Ministry, for some odd idea, thinks I have all the answers seeing as that I've been contacting you since you have left Hogwarts. But, why would I be hear if I knew it all?" Dumbledore removed his cloak and fiddled with his glasses until they sat straight on his long, crooked nose. This had always bewildered Harry, as he could not understand how they could ever sit straight on something so crooked. "Lemon drop, Harry?"
"Oh, no thank you, Albus. I'm rather queasy as it is, trying to recall every possible detail I could. Some stick out rather so vividly that I wish they'd just go away."
"I know, Harry, but for all our sakes, maybe it's for the best that they are with you now." Dumbledore brushed a bit of dust from off of his robes, and took a seat across from Harry. "Anytime you're ready to begin, Mr. Potter."
(A/N: This story will now continue in Ginny's POV, not my point of view! Unless I indicate that it will switch, which I will tell you if it does, it will remain her POV. I am not in the mood in figuring out why ff.net won't show my words that I have indicated as italicized on Microsoft Word as italicized when all of you read it. Nor am I in the mood to figure out how to do so. Since I wasn't planning on making this entire flashback in italicized text I will just leave it at that. Unless any of you reviewers out there would kindly tell me how to make it look exactly as it is in Microsoft Word. And I will royally cringe if it has anything to do with an HTML code.)
I sat in my favorite, oversized chair located beside the common room fire. It cast a comforting glow upon the chair, and roasted my skin ever so slightly. I guess you could say I'm found here every day after dinner, absorbed in the entwined, vivid words and everlasting meanings that is muggle poetry. But why must the common room be so distracting? Really, I can't read under these conditions.
Oh, I see now. It's just Fred and George acting the part of hero all over again. I swear, someday they'll give Harry a run for that title. But for now, they're just my dimwitted elder brothers, that apparently make so much money it swells both their heads to the size of nearly exploding balloons. Well, at least they were nice enough to get our dear, ickle Ronniekins and I some new dress robes. I love mine; they're a soft, pale green with traces of silver. The neckline has an elegant, generous swoop and also a pair of matching gloves. Sometimes I don't know whether to kick my brothers' arses, or to embarrass the bloody gits by smothering them with kisses.
Look at them, patting Harry on the back. Of course, we all thought he did an absolutely marvelous job in the Quidditch game today versus Slytherin, and you'd have to be a stupid prat not to think so. But they're there, milking it for all it's worth. Sometimes I think they're so nice to Harry because they want a chunk of fame off of that huge block he carries in his back pocket, but now I see they may have grown to like him. They could've taken after me at least, liking him at first glance, but I guess it was just my job and my job only from the start.
Sometimes they get attention without even prying for it. Fifth years look up to them, first years adore them. I don't know why they keep asking for more. It was quite embarrassing when they flunked multiple times, and didn't graduate. It's even more embarrassing considering they're in the same year as Harry is; and I'm only a year behind. And the worst, most foul part is that mum didn't even get that mad at them! She said that it's not like they blew off studying completely and that they were 'doing something constructive' and 'at least they're not throwing away their lives.' Or how about this classic line! 'True, they're not as successful as Percy' and 'we know they're not the most studious kids.' I about hurled right into Moaning Myrtle's stall.
Oh great, now they've just declared a celebration in Harry's honor! Please, I don't see how anyone can put up with parties anymore. It seems the only thing that's been going on for TWO STRAIGHT WEEKS have been parties. I know that I'm dead sick of it. 'A toast, in Harry's honor of course.' Give me a break! More like 'A toast, thanking us for bashing your brains in with annoying loud music and treats to make you bloat for two straight week, oh and also a small congrats to Harry for his victory.'
I'm absolutely sick of it, sick of it all. Fred and George, the first failing students to ever set foot on Hogwarts ground and they get praise and adoration. Me, Ginny, their sister who has been dubbed 'squeamish and shy' by the one person she cares about most and what does she get? Ignorance, petty comments and a wave of the hand at a friendly greeting or a 'not now, I'm busy', that's what she gets. No fame, no glory, only a facade of a real girl in Harry's eyes. And you know what, this particular Ginny is sick of it all.
I marked my place and set my book down quietly on the table, not knowing why. I could have slammed the book down and nearly shattered the glass tabletop, and yet still no one would notice. Hell, I could do a freakishly mutated chicken dance in my bra and underwear and still no one would notice. Well, I wasn't in the mood for reading anymore anyway. So I packed up my stuff and headed toward the dormitories.
Yes, there goes silly little Ginny, all huffed and puffed over something so terribly and utterly stupid. Honestly, I don't know why I get so upset over things like this. Fred and George are my brothers, and I love them to bits, no matter what. But sometimes I wonder if they really do love and look out for me. They seem so pretentious and self absorbed lately that I just don't know what to do about it. But then again, have I ever had a clue as to what to do about it?
I made my way clumsily up the steps to my ever so humble (yet surely empty) common room. This did not improve my mood one bit, seeing that books kept threatening to fall from the opening that I was just too lazy to close. One landed with a profound thud on my toe, and I let out a loud yelp. Of course no one would notice, because at this point in time music was blaring as loud as could be, and 'meek little Ginny' could not be heard above it all. As soon as one book fell out, it apparently showed the other books the way to freedom, because all of them tumbled out, creating a loud (but not loud enough) and terribly distracting (yet no one notices) scene. I bounded down the steps to my books, when from out of nowhere came Ron's damned new rat. It honestly scared the shit out of me, because the last thing I remember was falling to the bottom of the stairs.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I woke up dizzy and startled about the fact at lying at the bottom of the stairs. After a couple of minutes when my vision cleared enough so I could stand, I mustered what was left of my withering strength (why it was so little I had no clue), yet found I couldn't stand. Actually, I found I also had a broken leg. Above all obvious things, I think my assumption to be correct, seeing as there is a freaking bone sticking out of my leg!! I was too horrified to scream, and somehow it willed itself to stay put, latched onto something in my throat. Then it came. I quickly pressed my palm to my forehead, experiencing the absolute WORST headache in my entire life. Putting pressure on it might help relieve the stress a little, but then it started to hurt mortifyingly, and tingle like mad.
Then I freaked out royally, worse than when I realized my leg was broken.
My palm had blood on it.
Not only did it have blood, but it had a LOT of blood.
I ran my hands through my hair nervously, mentally and silently freaking out. But there was something different about my hair, something. sticky.
I took my hands out of it, grossed out. And then I saw it.
My hair. It was. matted. with blood. My fingers were doused with traces of blood. My hands involuntarily flung to the back of my neck.
Blood.
The only word that came to thought. The only word I could think. The only word I could feel. The only word I could breathe, sweat or smell.
Then I felt a gushing stream sear my back. And that brought me out of my revere of horror. It shoved some sense into me.
The Hospital Wing. that's where I should be. 'And just how do you suppose you'll get there?' A nasty little voice in me head brought me back to the REAL reality of it all. 'Your leg is broken, you can't possibly walk. You could scoot along down, but we'd rather not have another incident of you falling down the stairs by some childish means of transportation, now would we?'
Nasty little bugger of a thought. If it weren't me who'd thought it, I would have been more hotheaded than accepting and realizing. At least I can except my faults, and not hide them up or have someone hide them for me, unlike my 'sheltered' twin brothers. Well, getting back to my means of transportation to the Hospital Wing, I suppose the only possible solution would be to scream, seeing as that no one is likely to find me over here anytime soon, away from the party.
There, a scream. Not only a scream, but a loud, blood curdling scream. Hopefully an attention-getting scream at that.
But alas, all attempts of getting noticed seem futile. Why not scream some more? No one would notice, so I wouldn't be told to shush. Wow, how thoughtful. Kudos on thinking positively, self. No one would tell you to shush.
I must have fallen into a sarcastic version of a revere, because then I noticed the severity of the situation. My leg was broken, and there could be a possible crack in my skull, which is the assumption I'm leading towards right now considering at the amount of blood in my hair, on my forehead, on my neck, and now residing on my back. Thoughts of death rushed through my head like a mad river. And that's when it all happened.
Someone, thankfully, heard my screams.
Professor McGonagall came bounding from the outside world, and screamed something fierce at all who took up space in the common room. The music was turned off, and the party came to an unwelcome stop. Finally, maybe someone will notice the state of health I'm in, and aid me to my rightful destination.
~*~*~*~*~*~
I awoke once more, seemingly after a longer period of time. And if nothing more or nothing less, I was most definitely the most confused being to walk the face of the planet.
What is the sun doing out at this hour? Why am I still at the stairs? Certainly I should be in the Hospital Wing?
'Ginny, it's morning, and no one came for you. They LEFT you lying here, literally in pieces. No one cared, Ginny. Someone had to have seen you lying at the bottom of the stairs leading to where everyone SLEEPS. No one bothered to come to your aid. Everyone was too selfish and inconsiderate to help someone who was in need of aid, someone who could possibly DIE.'
"Die?" I was so startled and scared at my own thoughts that I spoke aloud.
'Yes Ginny, you could die. I wouldn't be surprised if your head was still bleeding.'
My hands acted on their own again, flinging up to my hair. It was crusty, filled with blood, but I found a rather horrifyingly large spot that was still strikingly wet. Then I moved down to my neck, and there was the same scary substance. My neck was still undoubtedly bleeding.
So I did what anyone else would do in this situation.
I panicked.
Then I'd remembered my brilliance that summer. a flashback, really.
There I was, sitting on my bed, holding my beloved charm bracelet. The last charm on it signified a diary, a memento of the Chamber of Secrets. Although a horrifying and repulsive time, it was a significant event in my pathetic life. Thinking of the Chamber got me thinking of Harry, and how heroic he'd been. How he'd risked his life to save mine. I grasped the bracelet tight and willed myself to be there to save him from his wretched relatives, just like he'd saved me from Tom. And then without a doubt, I was standing in the front lawn of number four, Privet Drive.
My charms. they were magic ones.
They combined with the strongest of emotions coursing through my body, along with the thing I most desired.
Sort of a. emotion portkey.
Then I looked down, and saw a bright, glimmering miracle under dried blood. I was wearing my charm bracelet.
Then I focused on the strongest emotion that I was feeling. Anger, loneliness, and most of all.fear.
I winced in pain and then thought about how wonderful it would be to be being treated by Madame Pomfrey right now. How wonderful skele-gro would feel compared to this any day. Just to know that someone is willing to take care of me. even if it isn't my family or friends. The feeling of someone caring. to be tended to with the utmost care.
~*~*~*~*~*~
My sight became sharper, and I winced at the piercing agony my body was feeling. But there was one thing I was well aware of, my surroundings had definitely changed, I was in a bed at the Hospital Wing.
"M-M-Madame Pomfrey?"
"Yes dear? Are you in need of more chocolate?"
I glance over at the nightstand lying next to the bed. On it was a secreted chunk of chocolate wrapped in layers upon layers of pink foil. It hardly looked like chocolate at all from the outside. I unwrapped it and took a glutinous bite out of it, scarfing it down like I hadn't eaten in ages. Chocolate had never tasted so good.
"What happened when I got here?"
"You looked quite weary, with no energy left at all, and you were in horrible, terrifying condition. Your leg was broken beyond belief, and your skull had almost filled entirely with blood. Frankly, I thought we were going to lose you. You've been unconscious for three days."
Oh.my. . . .
Before I knew it, the putrid taste of puke rushed up my throat and onto the sterile floor, making an orange and red mess. Red being even more blood.
"Oh dear, let's help you to the bathroom and get you cleaned up."
"I don't think I need assistance to the bathroom, Madame Pomfrey."
"I'm not sure, Gin, your leg has just completed healing, and it should be really stiff and unstable."
"I'm fine."
I got out of bed slowly. Madame Pomfrey was right; my leg was wobbling violently under me, about to give away at any second. But I made it to the bathroom without collapsing, a piece of vomit being my inspiration.
"Do you happen to have any food left? I'm really quite hungry." Ginny had no need of words, however, as her stomach did most of the talking. It growled fiercely and impolitely, demanding food for fear of imploding.
"Of course dear! You must be starving! I'll just notify the house elves upstairs and I'll be right down with some dinner for you. It's about time you've come to!"
I watched Madame Pomfrey hustle out of the room. It seems like she hasn't had a patient in weeks, or one that couldn't be tended to for days. Well, I'm glad I gave her something to do then, I wouldn't want to prolong her from her work. and as I can see, I'll need a lot of attention, and an extraordinary amount of time to recover properly.
Then I noticed a flash of purple color out of the corner of my eye. I turned to face it, and apparently I missed something while I'd grabbed the chocolate in my ravenous attack of hunger. It was a get well card.
Ginny,
I feel absolutely terrible about what happened. Nothing this horrible should happen to a sweet girl like you, Ginny. I saw you the night of the party. I tried to get someone else's attention, but no one seemed to be listening. So I did what I did best. I snapped some pictures of the condition you were in and sent them to the Hospital Wing, but the time they got there, it had been reported that you had already been taken care of and attended to, yet you were out cold. I had asked them who brought you there, but Madame Pomfrey said you had come unassisted. Weird, huh? I was so worried that you were terribly injured, and I'm so sorry that I couldn't have been of any assistance sooner than I had been. I was also worried that you had died, Ginny, because I'd been in contact with Madame Pomfrey all the while you weren't awake, and she said your pulse had slowed down at a tremendous rate, threatening your life. You'll make me the happiest person in the world if you live, Ginny. Please, send me an owl telling me you'll be okay as soon as you're done reading this. Get well, Ginny. I wish you the best of luck in your recoveries.
With Love, Colin
I set the lush purple card down, soaking in every word as if I learned by osmosis. Colin, he sent me a card. He sent me a beautiful card. I'm taking his words to heart, seeing as they melted it already.
Someone out there. someone out there cares for me. If not even my family, if not even Harry, someone out there cares. Wait. my family.
My family didn't even send a card. Madame Pomfrey would have told me if I'd had visitors, surely she'd remembered whom she'd shooed away from my bedside. But no, as I look around, this was the only card I saw left for me. Not one friggin' card from my family. not one. Does no one care about me anymore? Does no one love me? Have they disowned me? Do they find me so petty and worthless that they choose to ignore me, choose to will me away?
The decay of my happy thoughts and memories slowed down unwillingly once I saw what Madame Pomfrey had brought me for dinner. A scrumptious portion of all of my favorite foods wheeled its way to my bedside, and I could never say in all my life that food had tasted so good.
As I was polishing off the last of my food, the scariest thought entered my mind. Nothing so corrupted had ever breached the surface, and nothing so foul had ever wandered so deep.
I wanted Fred and George to pay, and I would give anything to make it happen.
Author's Note: Thankfully this chapter was longer than the previous one! Trust me, the chapters following this will be even longer if I can actually continue to develop the plot, I promise you that! Please review; if you do, I'll love you forever! ^_~
A warning to everyone who has read this chapter: If you are not a fan of sad stories, I suggest not continuing to read this. This will gradually get more depressing and sadder. If you do like these stories though, I suggest in the future after reading a chapter or two, that you read some extremely fluffy fic. I seriously cried when Cedric died in the fourth book, and I think I'm going to cry in some parts while writing this fic. But, I'm a softy, and this probably might not affect you at all. Just a warning though, you do not have to take it seriously ^_~
Zulu