We're strange allies
With warring hearts
What a wild-eyed beast you be
The space between
The wicked lies we tell
And hope to keep safe from the pain
-Dave Matthews Band, "The Space Between"
CHAPTER 2
Ever since she was little, Ginny had always loved arriving
at Platform 9¾ on September 1st, even back when it was her brothers
who would be making the dream-like journey aboard the Hogwarts Express and not
her. The platform was filled with all kinds of students, from first years who
clung to their parents, barely able to contain their excitement or nervousness,
to seventh years who seemed bored with the process after doing it so many times
until the novelty had finally worn off. One seventh year in particular seemed
to stand out from the crowd. He was standing with his parents, his fair golden
hair gleaming in the sunlight, wearing an impassive expression as he talked
with them.
Reminding herself of her vow not to bother with Draco Malfoy this year, Ginny
turned away, lugging her cases of belongings behind her as she followed her
family and Harry towards the train.
She was about to say her goodbyes to her parents when she caught sight of
something that made her burst out in giggles. To Ginny's astonishment, Narcissa
Malfoy had thrown her arms around her son, practically smothering him in a
tight embrace as she lamented, "Oh, I can't believe we're sending you off to
your last year at Hogwarts! I remember when we were helping you get ready for
your very first year..." Ginny had always expected Draco's mother to be as
distant and undemonstrative as Draco himself was, but now Ginny saw that her
prim and proper appearance and name was misleading.
"Muuuum! You're making a scene..." Draco grumbled irritably as he tried to
squirm out of his mother's grasp while struggling to salvage any dignity he had
left. Draco noticed Ginny out of the corner of his eye and shot a menacing
glare at her, but the fact that he was so powerless and unable to retaliate
against her made the situation look even more comical.
"If you'll excuse me, Narcissa, I'd like a moment alone with the boy," Lucius
interrupted.
Narcissa released Draco and said a final goodbye to him before she Apparated
off. Ginny continued to watch closely as Lucius rounded on his son.
"The school year has not even started yet, and already you have failed me."
Lucius began, his voice practically a hiss. "I had high hopes that you would be
named Head Boy. Have I expected too much of you?"
"Maybe you have," Draco muttered softly.
"That was not a question, Draco!" Lucius warned.
Draco lowered his eyes to the ground. "Father – I'm sorry–" Suddenly he looked
more like a frightened child than someone who would be graduating Hogwarts in
June.
"Look at me when I'm speaking to you." Lucius commanded, and Draco's head
snapped up obediently. Lucius continued, "Aren't you ashamed that Harry Potter
and the Mudblood girl are ahead of you academically? Or have I taught you
nothing?" The tone of his voice was calm and silky, and it would have sounded
almost pleasant had it not been laced with undercurrents of malevolence and
disgust.
"Father," Draco spoke slowly and carefully, as though he was afraid of his
tongue getting tangled on his words. "I have been trying. I was made the
Quidditch captain last year, surely that means something... And, after all" –
he glanced around him before continuing in a hushed tone – "I did
receive the Mark this summer, like you always wanted me to..."
"I shouldn't need to praise you for that. That's no more than what is expected
of you as a Malfoy," Lucius snapped.
"Expected" isn't the word for it, Draco thought bitterly, "Required"
is more like it.
"And, speaking of which, I trust that you will carry out your assignment
successfully." Lucius continued.
Draco winced slightly. "I thought that, of all people, you'd be opposed to what
I've been assigned to do."
"I'm no happier about it than you are, Draco," Lucius sighed, "but there are
certain... sacrifices... we are required to make. You have to do what you have
to do; you are bound by the Mark. Unless you don't take your responsibility as
seriously as I do?" Draco shook his head quickly. "Good. Just keep in mind that
what you are doing is for a greater purpose."
"And what is that greater purpose?" Draco inquired.
"You'll find out soon enough." Lucius said briskly. "And when you do, you'll
see that ultimately the ends justify the means."
Draco had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "Asking me to put things
like honor and duty before myself? That sounds like a silly Gryffindor ideal.
I'm a Slytherin, and Slytherins take care of themselves and do what they want."
Lucius leaned in closer to his son, his pale eyes narrowed and his lip curling
upwards. "See how far that gets you." He gave Draco an unnecessarily forceful
shove with his walking staff before turning sharply on his heel and striding
off.
Ginny averted her eyes away from the father and son and resumed walking towards
the scarlet steam engine, dragging her heavy trunk behind her. She had a
distinct feeling that she was not supposed to have overheard the snippet of
conversation she'd just witnessed. It had certainly struck her as odd. She had
always imagined Draco to be an exact miniature replica of his father, as
parallel to him in principles as he was in looks.
As Ginny was hoisting her luggage onto a compartment, Mr. Weasley put his hand
on her shoulder, and Mrs. Weasley smiled warmly at her. "Third Prefect in the
family! We're so proud of you, dear."
Ginny beamed and hugged her parents in farewell. "I'll miss you!" As soon as
she climbed onto the train and slid the compartment door shut, she came
face-to-face with Draco, whose arms were crossed casually as he leaned against
the door and regarded her.
"Wasn't that just the sweetest thing? Little Miss Weasel, the pick of the
litter, the pride and joy of her parents." He put on a high-pitched voice and
imitated Mrs. Weasley. "We're so proud of you, dear! Maybe she thinks
you'll be the first Weasley to amount to anything."
Ginny scowled at him, her amber eyes spitting fire. "Don't you dare say
anything about my family, because there are loads of things I could say about
yours."
"Then how come you don't? Don't have the guts to?" Draco smirked.
"Look who's talking, Mama's Boy." Ginny retorted.
At this, a pinkish blush stung at Draco's cheeks. "I'll give you some advice,
Weasel," he snarled angrily, his voice low and full of contempt. "Don't act
like you know anything about me or my family, cause you don't."
Ginny's mind flew back to the hostile exchange she'd witnessed between Draco
and Lucius, and then to Narcissa's unguarded exhibition of affection. Maybe she
didn't know the Malfoys as well as she'd thought after all.
"Care to enlighten me, then?" Ginny asked, mimicking Draco's scornful drawl.
"Why should I let you in on anything?" Draco sneered. "All you need to know
about us is that we're one of the most powerful and influential families in all
of the wizarding world, and my father could wipe out your entire family if he
saw fit to. So I'd watch your tongue if I were you."
Ginny wanted to think up a swift and nasty reply to Draco's threat, but the
thought of Lucius Malfoy terrified her so profoundly that she remained silent,
falling for Draco's trap. He flashed her a satisfied, patronizing smile and
exited the compartment, leaving Ginny by herself.
Ginny hated being reminded of the power that the Malfoys held. As if she needed
a recap after the incident in her first year! It was because of Lucius that she
had come across the cursed diary of Voldemort's sixteen-year-old self, and it
clearly had been no accident. And even though the diary had been destroyed long
ago, the horrific impact it had left on Ginny still plagued her; nearly every
one of her peers in Hogwarts skirted her as if she was still possessed by some
evil fiend, not to mention how she still suffered flashbacks of the whole awful
experience. She couldn't blame Draco for this, since he wasn't informed of his
father's plot until after it had occurred, but she still loathed him for being
the offspring of such a cruel, heartless human being – especially since it
looked as if his destiny lied in following his father's footsteps. The apple
never falls far from the tree, Ginny concluded.
There were still times when Ginny would feel overwhelmed by Tom Riddle's
influence all over again, though these moments grew rarer with each passing
year. But she could sense one of those moments coming now; she could feel it
about to hit. And as much as she tried to drive the spine-chilling memories
from her head, she felt them surface in her and consume her, leaving her
helpless once more as images of the past returned to mock her.
"Sometimes I wish I lived 50 years ago, just so I could
meet you in person. You're so wonderful to talk to, Tom."
"Ginny, you don't have to wish for that, because someday I'm going to find a
way to come out of this diary. Then we can meet in person."
Ginny's heart leapt into her throat, and she feverishly scribbled a reply.
"Promise?"
"I promise."
"I can't wait! I'd better get to bed now, Tom, I'm pretty tired. Talk to you
tomorrow!"
"Goodnight, Ginny. Have sweet dreams."
Ginny closed the diary gently. Before storing it away in its hiding place under
her bed, she hugged it tightly to her chest, running her hand down the wrinkled
leather spine. She pressed her cheek up against the gilded words "T.M. Riddle"
that were emblazoned on the cover of the book, burying her face in those
gleaming golden letters. Until the day Tom came to greet her face-to-face, this
was as close to him as she could get. For now, this would have to suffice.
Ginny smacked her forehead, scolding herself for being so blind and foolish. Why didn't she see the ugly reality behind his enticing lies? Why did she have to be so naïve? But then she recalled that she had started to detect the warning signs...
"Dear Tom, I think there's something wrong with me. I can feel it. There's something different about me and I'm not sure what it is. But I've been feeling this way ever since I found your diary, and it's just been getting stronger and stronger..."
But Tom had crushed these suspicions, quickly and shrewdly...
"I must say, Ginny, I'm rather shocked by these things
you're accusing me of. I thought you knew me better than that. Don't you trust
me anymore?"
"Of course I trust you, Tom! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.
I'm just so confused."
"It's okay, Ginny. I understand."
"You're the only one who does. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom. I
feel like I can tell you anything. I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide
in. I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. It's like I've poured out my
very soul for you to have..."
And now, here Ginny was, doomed to live every day with the
painful knowledge that not only would she never experience the unconditional
attention and compassion that Tom had given her ever again, but that it had
never even existed in the first place. The Tom that she'd thought she knew was
just an illusion, a deception. But how could something that was never real
linger in her memories and haunt her conscience so intensely? No matter how
many years passed, she still couldn't escape the permanent damage he'd done to
her, the inexorable mark that her heart had been tainted with.
She buried her face in her hands, her mind exploding with rampaging questions.
She squeezed her eyes shut and whispered furiously, "How could you do this to
me? How could you let me spill out all my deepest secrets and still put me
through all that horror? How can anyone be that evil? How can anyone be
that good of an actor, that good of a liar? Didn't anything I said mean
anything to you at all? Wasn't there just one tiny second, one brief flicker in
time, when you felt even a hint of remorse for what you were planning to put me
through? Was there a single word that you actually meant? I don't understand
it! Why, why did this have to happen to me? How could–"
Her chain of thoughts was broken when she heard the compartment door start to
slide open again. Ginny stiffened her posture and prepared herself in case it
was Draco at the door, since lately he seemed to be constantly seeking her out
to harass her, but instead, a small, frail-looking boy with mousy hair poked
his head into the compartment and grinned at Ginny.
Ginny brightened instantly, grateful to see a friendly face. "Hey there,
Colin!" The next thing she knew, she was blinded by a sudden flash of light.
"I think I'll call this one, 'back on the Hogwarts Express'," announced Colin,
patting his camera.
Ginny smiled weakly, batting flecks of light from her eyes. "Still love taking
photos, I see." She was hoping Colin would sit down so she could have someone
to rant to about the assortment of troubles that burdened her mind, but instead
he told her, "I'm going to go say hi to Harry. I'm sure he won't mind, right? I
wonder how he's been all summer. I can't believe he stayed at your house;
you're so lucky! Well, see you at the feast."
Ginny nodded flatly. "See you." Colin dashed out of the compartment, eager for
a brush with greatness.
Uncomforted, Ginny propped her elbow up on the windowsill and gazed
absentmindedly at the scenery beyond the glass panel, watching trees and
meadows zip by. She felt so alone, so empty, like an integral part of her had
been removed and she'd never be whole again. And it was not only Tom Riddle's
fault, but it was also Harry's fault, Lucius's fault, and, needless to say,
Draco's bloody fault.
* * *
A/N: Hope you liked Chapter 2. I had a bit of difficulty with this chapter, since a few parts of it subtly introduce some of the main themes of the story, but it was nonetheless fun to write! In Chapter 3, we'll see Ginny use her Prefect powers on Draco when she ends up getting him a detention – let's see how that one turns out! *wicked grin* Thanks to the D/G club at Cinescape, for helping me overcome my writer's block with your wonderful fics and discussions, and to my two reviewers, TK and Tutankhamunsgirl – I really appreciate your kind words! I hope you'll keep reading and reviewing!
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Also, the lyrics at the top of the page are from a Dave Matthews Band song.
