Chapter Sixteen: A Fate Too Terrible to Ignore
Although Professor McGonagall had announced that exams would still be taking place, they were the last thing on Ginny's mind. For the last two weeks, she had tried to find a way to tell Ron and Harry about Tom and the diary. They had kept to themselves quite a bit, and without being able to see Hermione, their hopes seemed as grim as their faces. Especially Ron's.
The looks of despair she noticed Percy and Ron had been wearing when they were alone from time to time were enough to make anyone feel terrible, but they made Ginny only feel more guilt-ridden than ever. A week before exams, she caught Ron staring off into space, a slight look of terror on his face.
"Ron, are you okay?" she asked. "You look like you just saw a spider or something." Ginny knew her brother was terrified of them, thanks to Fred and George, and a very cruel trick with a teddy bear when Ron was young.
Shuddering at the mere mention of spiders, Ron turned around to his sister. "Sp–spiders? No . . .er, no, I just was thinking about Hermione. I just wish they would just hurry up with the Mandrake draught already, " he said, not quite looking her in the eye.
Ginny had hidden the diary deep within her trunk, afraid of what she was capable of if she opened it again. And now with Hermione, Hagrid and even Professor Dumbledore gone, she was even more tempted to write in it, seeking guidance . . . even if it was Tom giving it to her. Every day seemed more difficult than the last, as though Tom called to her from within herself, beckoning her to join him again.
Fortunately, Ginny was absolved from this temptation a few days before exams. Professor McGonagall announced at breakfast that Professor Sprout's Mandrakes were ready for cutting, and that the Mandrake Draught would be made immediately, to revive the victims that had been petrified.
Ginny's heart soared at the news, as nearly the entire school rose up from their tables and cheered. "Hermione and the others would return tonight!" she thought enthusiastically, feeling a wave of relief sweep over her. "This nightmare will finally be over."
Of course that was until she overheard Neville talking to Seamus and Dean, "Did you hear that! They will revive everyone tonight, now they will find out who's been behind all these attacks!"
As if her entire body was dipped in the Arctic Ocean, Ginny froze with fear at this realization. Suddenly the sausages she just ate didn't quite sit well with her.
The cheers still rang in her ears as she considered her fate. "They will know who did it. Every last one of them will know it was me. The school, my family, probably the entire wizarding world. Even Harry. What will they think when they find out? They won't understand. I have to explain to them what happened before it's too late, and I get expelled. I will probably be banished, and have to go live with my accountant uncle, never to practice magic again."
"I have to tell them. I have to tell them NOW."
Forcing herself up from the table, Ginny turned to her brother. Ron and Harry, who both had joyous looks on their faces. She thought of the diary upstairs in her trunk, and walked over to them at the table, twisting her hands together in nervousness.
She sat down next to Ron. Saying nothing at first, having no idea how she was going to tell them at all. "What's up?" he asked, as he served himself some porridge.
Ginny felt faint. She unconsciously looked over the Gryffindor table for Hermione, then glancing at the head table for Hagrid, looking for some sort of support or strength to give her. But she realized quickly that there was none to be found. She had to do this alone.
Ron looked at her, observing her strange behavior. "Spit it out," he said again.
She glanced at Harry. He, too stared at her with an odd look in his eye. Pondering to himself.
Concentrating hard on not making eye contact with Harry, she mumbled to her brother, "I've got to tell you something."
Harry's ears perked up, and he looked at her with more interest. "What is it?"
Confused and scared, Ginny tried with all her might to find the words to say to them. It just seemed so hard. All she could think of was how disappointed in her they would all be when she told them the truth.
Ron started to look annoyed. "What?" he said, urging her on.
"You have to do this," she told herself. "Or they will never understand. They will hate you."Ginny opened her mouth, but could not even utter a squeak.
Harry leaned towards her and spoke softly, giving her a comfort and strength in his words she'd never known before. "Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"
Ginny drew in her own strength with her breath. She knew then that she could do it. Holding her breath, she looked straight at Harry and–
"If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I'm starving, I've only just come off patrol duty," a weary looking Percy said behind her, making Ginny jump up.
She backed out of her seat, nearly falling over it. Any bravery she might've had by now, completely left her. Ginny looked at Percy, not knowing whether or not he'd heard their conversation. Not knowing what else to do, she ran out of the Great Hall.
* * *
Gazing at herself in the mirror as she twirled the wand in her hand, Ginny felt indifferent. She couldn't put a finger on how, but she knew in her heart that she had changed, and she wasn't sure whether she liked it or not.
Physically, she had changed from the start of term. She had become slightly gaunt, and increasingly pale, even more than the average redhead. In addition to the fact that they were swollen from crying, her eyes were sunken with dark circles under them. And it was quite obvious that she hadn't really ate or slept in days.
It was as if her very essence was slowly creeping out of her body, leaving nothing but an empty shell of a person. Maybe it was already gone.
Ginny turned around and regarded her trunk. Within it lay the last remaining scraps of all the impossible dreams and silly wishes of an eleven year old girl. Her childhood gone.
She was no longer sweet, innocent little Ginny Weasley. She could thank Tom for that.
But somehow, she felt content. More so than she had felt in a long time. Perhaps it was the news that everyone would be soon unpetrified later that evening, even though it meant that she would be soon be named by the victims as the Heir of Slytherin. Or maybe it was that she felt that indescribable brush of strength, looking into Harry's eyes, that she had never felt before. But she knew it wasn't either one.
She could hear Tom's calls to her ringing in her head, and they were difficult to ignore. A part of her wanted to be with him badly. She had already given him so much of herself, it was hard to tell now if it was her or him directing the orchestra in her head. But she had to fight this overwhelming desire. She hated what she had become, but she hated Tom more for influencing her. It wasn't right to feel this way, and she knew it.
Her feelings buried deep down, she didn't want to admit to herself that she liked the power Tom gave her. The power was still raw and uncontrollable, but if she could learn to control it, harness it, she could eventually use it against him. But that meant that she would have to face him again. Was it worth having to destroy herself in order to destroy her greatest friend, and her worst enemy?
"Yes." she thought without hesitation.
Ginny walked near her bed, set her wand down on her night table, and knelt down to dig the diary from the bottom of her trunk. Frightened and relieved at the same time by the small book in her hands, she picked up the quill already sitting on her night table, and dipped it in the black ink beside it. Feeling resolve about her fate, she opened up the diary and wrote, "I've come back Tom."
"I knew that you could not resist my calls to you. Eager for me to show you more are we? You enjoyed that little taste I gave you, and now your thirst for power is growing," he wrote back.
Trying not to let herself slip into the anger she felt boiling up within her, Ginny allowed herself to feel slightly cocky as she wrote, "No, Tom. I've come to tell you it's over. The Mandrake draught is nearly ready, and soon, they will all be awake. Everyone will know who is responsible for all of this. And when they know it was me, you won't be able to hurt anyone else."
"That is where you're wrong, dear Ginny. I have grown powerful, far more than you can imagine."
"Tom, you need me. You can't do anything without me or the diary."
"I am afraid it is you that is wrong, Ginny. It is you who cannot be without me. You want to feel that power again, am I right? You are desperate to feel me again inside of you, to keep the defenseless little girl at bay. So afraid of the weak person you will become without me." Tom knew her well–too well, and she grimaced at how he was able to see right through her. Then again, it was she who allowed him to have that power over her.
"I'm not afraid of you. Not anymore."
"Oh, but you should be," he chided. " I think it is time I finally reveal some secrets of my own to you. Secrets about the Heir of Slytherin that not even you know about. I am worse than any nightmare you could possibly envision for yourself and your world."
"I find that hard to believe. You are nothing but a fifty-year-old memory in a book, Tom Riddle. And once you have been destroyed, no one will even remember you."
"You silly little child, how very little you understand," were Tom's final words in the diary as they disappeared and the diary opened up before her. Ginny was suddenly spinning in a whirl of color, and she shut her eyes tightly. When she finally landed and opened her eyes, she found herself in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, though it looked different than before, as though in a different time.
Ginny glanced around the room. Tom was on the other end of the room, speaking in Parseltongue at the opened sink, calling the serpent.
"Tom, what are you–"
But Ginny was quickly cut off by the wail of a girl crying loudly as she came charging out of one the stalls. It was Myrtle, and she was alive.
"What are you doing here Riddle? Don't you know that this is a girls' bathroom?" Myrtle shouted, wiping her tear-streaked eyes, before they suddenly became wide with fear and she shrieked in horror, and Ginny heard the hiss of the basilisk behind her.
"No! No! NO!" Ginny cried.
Myrtle seized up as though she was in a full body bind, and her eyes glazed over, and darkened, as though they were burned out of their sockets. Ginny shuddered and turned away from her and back to Tom, who was walking towards her.
"You, and the rest of the wizarding world may only think of me as a memory Ginny, but how easily you forget that it is the memory that they fear most of all," he said to her.
"What do you mean Tom?" her body shaking almost violently as she spoke.
"I think you know, Ginny. Deep down, I think you have known for quite a while now," he said with a devilish grin.
"No! You're lying!"
"Remember, I never lie."
"But you can't be. That's impossible!"
"You know who I am Ginny. You know that I am Lord Voldemort."
Ginny's mind was reeling. Voldemort. Tom Riddle is Voldemort. Her head was beginning to throb in pain from the shock. It was too much. And at last, when she could take it no longer, she fell into unconsciousness.
* * *
Ginny woke up in a darkened chamber holding the diary in her hands, not knowing if she was dreaming or not. Columns of eerie-looking serpents surrounded her, and at the very end of the chamber was an enormous statue of the founder of Slytherin house, Salazar Slytherin himself. Tom again was there, standing near the base of the statue. It was then she realized that she was in the Chamber of Secrets.
She felt incredibly weak, and the only thoughts filling her mind as she got to her feet was that she had to keep strong and have hope. Just keep alive long enough for Ron and Harry to find her in the chamber.
Clutching the diary close, Ginny asked, stuttering, "H–how is this possible? I–I don't understand . . ."
The corner of Tom's lips curled up slightly in a tight smile as he walked towards her. "Simple really. I fed off your fear and your hate, and it made me strong. I eventually gained enough strength to overpower and control you, much like a wizard under the Imperious Curse does. Under my influence, you were able to speak Parseltongue and release the Basilisk onto Hogwarts. You were ready to do my bidding.
"Of course, you are much stronger than I thought. Your feelings for Potter have become far more than a silly little crush, and I suppose he has his own influence over you, though you did not know it. You fought me, somehow only allowing our victims to be petrified rather than killed. For if they had met the Basilisk eye to eye, they would have died like that whiny girl in the bathroom. I then realized that there was only one person who could have the power to stop me, your great love, Harry Potter."
Tom walked around her in circles, as if he were interrogating her. "Until of course you began to suspect me, and tried to flush me down a toilet! You thought it were easy for you. But you were wrong. Harry found the diary. How very lucky for me indeed! Of all the people in the school, he was the one who found me.
"I told Potter about the expulsion of Hagrid to gain his trust, hoping that he would begin to confide in me as well. And I could have made good use of him too. An even better scapegoat than you, I think. But again, I underestimated you. How surprised I was that you had gone to such lengths to steal the diary back.
Tom sighed irritably, "But no matter, Potter is a resourceful lad. He will find me again soon enough, once he finds out his best friends' sister has been taken. He will figure out how to open the chamber, seek me out, and then he will tell me how he was able to defeat me in the past. And once I get what I want from him, you will have what you always wanted, Ginny–Harry Potter with you, forever."
Stone faced, Ginny asked Tom the only question that rose to mind. "If you are the all powerful Dark Lord, then what do you want from me?"
Tom's grin spread across his face. "You have already given me almost everything that I wanted from you, Ginny dear. Power over you and nearly everyone you hold dear. But there is one last thing I need from you. To keep me alive, and make me whole again–your soul."
Ginny tried to be strong, though she felt her strength slowly diminishing. "What will become of me, Tom?"
"I am sorry Ginny, but you will have to sacrifice your life to give me back my own. I am sure you understand of course. Besides, I have to make sure that I have enough strength to defeat Harry Potter. Yes, my former self may have made a mistake in the past, but it is not one I plan to make twice. Tonight, I will return to power. Younger, stronger and more powerful than ever before, and not even Albus Dumbledore or the great Harry Potter will be able to stop me!"
"No!" Ginny cried. She had to believe that Harry could save her, but doubt began to creep into her mind. "He's only a boy. How can he save me?" Stumbling to her knees on the stone floor, she shut the thought immediately out of her mind, and tried to think of a way to keep him talking, to stall him.
"Tom, why did you choose me?"
Another smirk crept onto Tom's young face. "Frankly, it wasn't me who chose you, it was a friend of mine. A supporter, if you will, of my efforts. He felt that you would be a perfect candidate. Not to mention his deep desire to have your Muggle-loving family in ruins."
She wondered who could have wanted so much harm to come to her family, when it suddenly slapped her in the face. The brawl at Flourish and Blotts. She remembered taking back one of her books from Mr. Malfoy after the scuffle he had with her father. He must have hidden the diary in the book.
"Malfoy. I should have known," Ginny growled, her anger at its peak.
"Clever girl," Tom said. "I must admit, though at times it made my task a bit challenging, I have always admired your intelligence. I believe that if you had not deceived me, we would have made quite a pair you and I. But you had to let your heart get in the way. All in all, I think that it proved to be a far more satisfying payoff when I finally broke you."
"You haven't broken me, Tom. I still have strength in me yet."
"Perhaps," he said slyly. "But not enough to fight me much longer. When will you learn child, that I will always have the last word? Even as we speak, you feel yourself growing weaker, slipping away into the diary, to take my place. There is no turning back now, Ginny. You will die. Remember, I will always win, no matter what."
Still grasping the diary in her arms, Ginny finally fell onto the floor, feeling the coolness of the stone bricks on her cheeks, as the rest of her slowly faded away into the diary. She went over in her mind what she could have done differently to stop all of this, but in the end, she could find nothing. She was accountable for everything that had happened, and now she had to accept her terrible fate.
Her only regret as Tom Riddle's last words echoed through her mind was that she hadn't told Ron and Harry the truth earlier that morning, and she promised herself that if she ever lived through this, she would never keep anything as important as this away from them again.
The End
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A/N: I would like to thank my truly remarkable beta-reader, Kathryn for not only bearing with my atrocious grammar, but really refining my writing style for this piece. Much love to you!
And as always I would like to thank my muse, my partner in crime and my best friend on the net, Bloodee Maree. Not only was she the inspirational voice of Tom Riddle in this piece, but she has shown me how much more there is to this book than a silly little girl with a diary. Huge glomps to you babe!
And now for the disclaimer . . .
As proud as I am to have written this story, I have no intention of ever publishing it for money. For the characters in the wizarding world belong to the amazing Ms. Rowling, and though I have borrowed the character of Ginny Weasley and her story from her, no copyright infringement is intended.
–HH