"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"
by Jedi Amoira
*****************
Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! If you like it, PLEASE leave a review! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!
Bill--good catch on the birthdays...my personal timeline in my head has Ginny's 11th birthday in November after she starts school, and I'd made an out-of-place reference to her being 11...hopefully it's fixed now. I agree with you on the bright red hair thing, but it's dark and shadowy in the bathroom, and my mental image of Ginny is kind of like Anne of Green Gables--always trying to convince herself her hair isn't as red as it is. I love your reviews! Please keep them up! :-)
***********************
--If that's what Slytherins are like, I don't understand how you ever thought I'd fit in with them, Tom— Ginny complained by the Common Room fire that night.
--Slytherins can be quite charming when it's to their advantage—Tom replied. Ginny made a face, then realized he couldn't see her face and drew it on the page.
--Sounds like Harry has a little competition—Tom added shrewdly. –Feeling less homesick?—
--Not really. And…not really. No one can compete with Harry. And tomorrow's Halloween. There's going to be a huge feast, and Dumbledore has booked a troupe of dancing skeletons, and Hagrid's making jack-o-lanterns out of these HUGE pumpkins, but—
--Hagrid?—Tom interrupted. –Rubeus Hagrid?—
--Yeah. He's the Keeper of Keys and Grounds and—
-- I don't think you should associate.—
--Why not? Harry does. I might see him there sometime. Anyway, Hagrid's sweet.—
--He's not a good influence. Did you know they expelled him?—
--Ron told me. He may not have finished school but even the Care of Magical Creatures Professor doesn't know as much about animals as Hagrid. It's sweet of you to be concerned, but I can learn a lot from him and I promise not to follow in his footsteps.—
--I suppose I'm satisfied. Sounds like you're looking forward to the feast.—
--Yeah, I know Ron won't ignore me tomorrow…except for last year, we're always together on Halloween. Dad always used to let us kids dress up in costumes like the muggles, and we always picked costumes that complemented each other. And at the end of the night, he'd always wish me a Happy Birthday so I'd wake up already knowing…Even Fred and George are nice to me on Halloween.—
--So why be homesick? You're with most of your family.—
--Yeah, but Hogwarts is so big and empty I feel lost…not like in the Burrow. We're always in one another's laps, it's so cozy. Halloween just won't be the same—
--But that doesn't mean it won't be equally nice. Somehow, I know tomorrow is going to be a very memorable Halloween.—
Ginny sank back into the overstuffed chair, exhausted. She would have gone to her dormitory to get some sleep, but she couldn't manage to gather the energy. She felt as limp and heavy as a wet towel, though she couldn't imagine why. She thought briefly of going to see Madam Pomfrey, then thought of the Pepperup Potion and shuddered. "I'm just feeling sorry for myself," she muttered, surprised that her tongue felt thick. "I'll feel better after the feast with Ron and H—his friends tomorrow."
The Great Hall was dark and full of shadows, the full moon hanging low in the enchanted ceiling sky, the corners lit with jack-o-lanterns carved from pumpkins as large as a garden shed. The various ghosts of Hogwarts shimmered and soared through a room filled with the cheerful clacking of dancing skeleton bones. Ginny stood on tiptoe and craned her neck around looking for Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Students pushed around her, jostling her uncomfortably. "Watcha doing, ickle Ginny?" Fred asked at her shoulder.
"Less looking, more eating, that's the course of action for a proper Weasley," added George. They made a chair of their arms and swung her into it, carrying her to the table as she began to giggle.
The food was delicious, but sitting between Percy and the twins made it hard, if not impossible to enjoy it. "Really, you could try to demonstrate a little civilization," Percy lectured stiffly.
"Us?," Fred asked, sounding hurt.
"Civilization?," George repeated.
Less than a second later, Percy's pumpkin pie exploded, covering Ginny in brown goo as well.
"If only Harry were here, Ginny" crooned George.
"No doubt he'd say you look good enough to eat," Fred swooned.
Ginny wrinkled her nose several times, trying to put out the tension that seemed to be settling inside, sparking fire. "Where are they?" she asked, trying not to sound too affected by the answer.
Fred looked at George. George looked at Fred. They shrugged. "Who knows—haven't seen hide nor hair of them all night. For that matter, where's Nearly Headless Nick?"
"That is a good question, come to think of it," Seamus said down the table. "After all, this is a night for ghosts."
Ginny hardly heard, she was too busy trying to fight back the tears.
Suddenly the thought of listening to Percy argue with the twins with no Happy Birthday from Ron at the end of the night seemed unspeakably depressing. She started to mumble an excuse about taking a shower to get rid of the pumpkin she was wearing, but no one seemed inclined to listen.
She pushed away from the table and wandered upstairs, letting the tears trickle warm and unchecked down her cheeks. The soothing streams of the shower first cooled and then washed them away, so that by the time she emerged, considerably cleaner, she felt almost human again.
Hating the idea of sitting around the Common Room staring at her Charms book or complaining to her diary, and feeling sorry for herself either way, Ginny stood in the middle of the room for a minute. Then, nodding decisively, she gathered up her notebook, her pencil and her telescope and headed out the portrait hole for the Astronomy Tower.
Her head hurt. A sliver of pain seemed to be lodged somewhere inside it, forcing everything on either side apart. The black haze from Myrtle's bathroom seemed to encroach slowly on her vision, and she could feel cold tremors like a whispering voice across her skin. Unsure where she was or where she was going, Ginny turned to get her bearings…
Her cheek was pressed against something cold and wet. She was freezing, too cold to even shiver. Slowly, it began to register that the left side of her body was pressed against the same surface as her cheek. Confused, she pushed herself upright, then winced and fell back as her skull pounded with a throbbing ache. Without any idea how long it took, she pulled herself upright and leaned against the wall. Eventually, she knew where she was…and she wasn't in the Astronomy Tower. She was in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom. Forgetting her head, Ginny whipped her head around in search of her telescope. It was lying haphazardly atop her notebook, on the floor in front of the sink across from the stall she suspected Myrtle was usually in. The mirror hanging over the sink gleamed dully in the shadows, somehow giving the impression of a malicious face…Ginny tried to avoid it, uncomfortably aware of the face from her nightmares, as if it were staring out at her. She could feel a voice like a deep vibration running under her skin, forming words she could almost but not quite understand… She hobbled over to snatch her things up as quickly as she could, only to catch sight of her hand, coated and encrusted with…something red…Ginny jumped, nearly slamming her aching head against the sink. "Oh," she groaned, as her legs sprawled out from under her. "It's…paint?"
"How did--?"
Frowning, more lost than ever, clutching her telescope, Ginny staggered out of the bathroom, water sloshing over her feet, and stopped dead as she caught sight of the wall.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS IS OPEN. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR—BEWARE!
And it was written in red paint.
"Miss Weasley," McGonagall's voice cracked like a whip behind her, the husky kitten's warmth completely absent, "just what do you think you're doing?"
"P—P—Pro—fess—sor" Ginny faltered, terrified at the prospect of being seen at the scene of such a crime, let alone in her current condition.
"I distinctly remember instructing all students to return to the dorm," Professor McGonagall continued, but her voice seemed a trifle less sharp, as if the sight of Ginny's fear had softened her anger slightly.
"Tha—That's just where I was going," Ginny said, truthfully enough. She could feel Professor McGonagall's eyes boring into her back.
"Miss Weasley—Ginny," she said, almost kindly, "is there something you want to tell me?"
Ginny fought the urge to glance down at her robes. "No, m'am," she said as naturally as she could manage.
The pause that followed was so heavy it seemed to force the air from Ginny's lungs. Just as she started to give in and say something, Professor McGonagall sighed. "In that case I have no choice--"
"Please," Ginny begged, desperate. "Please don't expel me."
McGonagall broke off short. "Why, Ginny," she exclaimed, seemingly before she could stop herself. Then, with her customary crispness, "I won't expel you this time, Miss. Weasley, but I will be taking points from Gryffindor."
"How many?" Ginny held her breath, wondering how many. A similar infraction had cost Harry and Hermione 50 each, and she'd already lost points this week…
"20 should be sufficient," McGonagall said finally. "And you'll have to serve detention. Tomorrow."
Ginny's birthday.
But if it meant she could stay at school, Ginny would do almost anything. "Now, return to your dormitory immediately," McGonagall added crisply, "before I change my mind." Ginny wasn't sure how she knew with her back to her, but Professor McGonagall was wearing a smile.
"Yes, Professor McGonagall," she said, bolting for Gryffindor tower, less afraid that McGonagall might change her mind than catch sight of the paint. Halfway down the hall she slowed half a step to shout back over her shoulder, "Thank you!"
The Common Room was dark and deserted to Ginny's everlasting relief. She crept through it and into the First Year Girls' dorm, hoping it was too dark for anyone to notice her appearance if they weren't already asleep. Luck, having abandoned her to Professor McGonagall, appeared to be on her side, however. She slid her things carefully under the bed so they wouldn't be broken by mistake while she was asleep, hastily stripped off her robe and hid it under the blankets at the foot of her bed before pulling on her pajamas.
The next morning, Ginny lay in bed pretending to be asleep until everyone else had left for breakfast. The instant she was sure they were gone, she dove under the bed and pulled out the diary.
--Tom, you have to help me.—
--Pranks on your brothers again? Isn't it a bit early to assume they've forgotten your birthday?—
--A lot more important.---
--Harry, then?—
--More important.—
--More important than the famous Harry Potter? This is serious!—
--Tom, you have to help me!! I went to the Astronomy Tower last night, and the next thing I knew I was waking up under the sink in Moaning Myrtle's creepy bathroom! I can't remember where I was or what I did last night…but there's paint all down my front! Do you think I'm going crazy, Tom?—
--Of course not. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation. Were you making Quidditch banners with your friends?–
--I don't think so…But, Tom, there's a HUGE message painted on the wall, and it's red…I think I may have done something horrible—
--That's ridiculous…I know you better than anyone else, and I know you wouldn't do anything like that.—
--You do understand me…you're the only one who does. But, Tom, why don't I remember? Where did the paint come from? And WHAT am I going to do about it?—
--I still think you were making Quidditch banners and forgot…you've been kind of absent-minded lately.—
--You're right…It's just…I'm so tired. WHY am I so tired?—
--You've been to see the nurse, right?—
--Well, yes.—
--What did she say?—
--She gave me that awful Pepperup Potion and sent me on my way.—
--So it's probably nothing serious…I think you're just working too hard, trying to prove you belong at Hogwarts.—
--Do you think that's all it is?—
--You just need to relax, Ginny. Everything will be fine. I'll take care of you. Starting with your robes…there's a simple stain-removing charm. You're good with charms—
by Jedi Amoira
*****************
Disclaimer--I don't own Ginny, the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry or Tom. I don't Hogwarts, Diagon Alley or the Chamber of Secrets. I don't own...well, if you see something you like just assume I don't own it, and you'll be fine. I have done my best to rely largely on my own imagination and vocabulary for the scenes I describe, however I have borrowed from JK Rowling, the movies, and my fellow fanfic writers wherever I found something I really liked. I hope they all take this in the manner in which it is meant--as sincere flattery of their skills.
A/N--I have some great reviewers, but an author writes for praise, and I need more! If you like it, PLEASE leave a review! I may not own any of this, but I have worked very hard and do love this story. If you like it, please say so. And please respect my work and don't print or post it elsewhere without my knowledge. Thanks!
Bill--good catch on the birthdays...my personal timeline in my head has Ginny's 11th birthday in November after she starts school, and I'd made an out-of-place reference to her being 11...hopefully it's fixed now. I agree with you on the bright red hair thing, but it's dark and shadowy in the bathroom, and my mental image of Ginny is kind of like Anne of Green Gables--always trying to convince herself her hair isn't as red as it is. I love your reviews! Please keep them up! :-)
***********************
--If that's what Slytherins are like, I don't understand how you ever thought I'd fit in with them, Tom— Ginny complained by the Common Room fire that night.
--Slytherins can be quite charming when it's to their advantage—Tom replied. Ginny made a face, then realized he couldn't see her face and drew it on the page.
--Sounds like Harry has a little competition—Tom added shrewdly. –Feeling less homesick?—
--Not really. And…not really. No one can compete with Harry. And tomorrow's Halloween. There's going to be a huge feast, and Dumbledore has booked a troupe of dancing skeletons, and Hagrid's making jack-o-lanterns out of these HUGE pumpkins, but—
--Hagrid?—Tom interrupted. –Rubeus Hagrid?—
--Yeah. He's the Keeper of Keys and Grounds and—
-- I don't think you should associate.—
--Why not? Harry does. I might see him there sometime. Anyway, Hagrid's sweet.—
--He's not a good influence. Did you know they expelled him?—
--Ron told me. He may not have finished school but even the Care of Magical Creatures Professor doesn't know as much about animals as Hagrid. It's sweet of you to be concerned, but I can learn a lot from him and I promise not to follow in his footsteps.—
--I suppose I'm satisfied. Sounds like you're looking forward to the feast.—
--Yeah, I know Ron won't ignore me tomorrow…except for last year, we're always together on Halloween. Dad always used to let us kids dress up in costumes like the muggles, and we always picked costumes that complemented each other. And at the end of the night, he'd always wish me a Happy Birthday so I'd wake up already knowing…Even Fred and George are nice to me on Halloween.—
--So why be homesick? You're with most of your family.—
--Yeah, but Hogwarts is so big and empty I feel lost…not like in the Burrow. We're always in one another's laps, it's so cozy. Halloween just won't be the same—
--But that doesn't mean it won't be equally nice. Somehow, I know tomorrow is going to be a very memorable Halloween.—
Ginny sank back into the overstuffed chair, exhausted. She would have gone to her dormitory to get some sleep, but she couldn't manage to gather the energy. She felt as limp and heavy as a wet towel, though she couldn't imagine why. She thought briefly of going to see Madam Pomfrey, then thought of the Pepperup Potion and shuddered. "I'm just feeling sorry for myself," she muttered, surprised that her tongue felt thick. "I'll feel better after the feast with Ron and H—his friends tomorrow."
The Great Hall was dark and full of shadows, the full moon hanging low in the enchanted ceiling sky, the corners lit with jack-o-lanterns carved from pumpkins as large as a garden shed. The various ghosts of Hogwarts shimmered and soared through a room filled with the cheerful clacking of dancing skeleton bones. Ginny stood on tiptoe and craned her neck around looking for Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Students pushed around her, jostling her uncomfortably. "Watcha doing, ickle Ginny?" Fred asked at her shoulder.
"Less looking, more eating, that's the course of action for a proper Weasley," added George. They made a chair of their arms and swung her into it, carrying her to the table as she began to giggle.
The food was delicious, but sitting between Percy and the twins made it hard, if not impossible to enjoy it. "Really, you could try to demonstrate a little civilization," Percy lectured stiffly.
"Us?," Fred asked, sounding hurt.
"Civilization?," George repeated.
Less than a second later, Percy's pumpkin pie exploded, covering Ginny in brown goo as well.
"If only Harry were here, Ginny" crooned George.
"No doubt he'd say you look good enough to eat," Fred swooned.
Ginny wrinkled her nose several times, trying to put out the tension that seemed to be settling inside, sparking fire. "Where are they?" she asked, trying not to sound too affected by the answer.
Fred looked at George. George looked at Fred. They shrugged. "Who knows—haven't seen hide nor hair of them all night. For that matter, where's Nearly Headless Nick?"
"That is a good question, come to think of it," Seamus said down the table. "After all, this is a night for ghosts."
Ginny hardly heard, she was too busy trying to fight back the tears.
Suddenly the thought of listening to Percy argue with the twins with no Happy Birthday from Ron at the end of the night seemed unspeakably depressing. She started to mumble an excuse about taking a shower to get rid of the pumpkin she was wearing, but no one seemed inclined to listen.
She pushed away from the table and wandered upstairs, letting the tears trickle warm and unchecked down her cheeks. The soothing streams of the shower first cooled and then washed them away, so that by the time she emerged, considerably cleaner, she felt almost human again.
Hating the idea of sitting around the Common Room staring at her Charms book or complaining to her diary, and feeling sorry for herself either way, Ginny stood in the middle of the room for a minute. Then, nodding decisively, she gathered up her notebook, her pencil and her telescope and headed out the portrait hole for the Astronomy Tower.
Her head hurt. A sliver of pain seemed to be lodged somewhere inside it, forcing everything on either side apart. The black haze from Myrtle's bathroom seemed to encroach slowly on her vision, and she could feel cold tremors like a whispering voice across her skin. Unsure where she was or where she was going, Ginny turned to get her bearings…
Her cheek was pressed against something cold and wet. She was freezing, too cold to even shiver. Slowly, it began to register that the left side of her body was pressed against the same surface as her cheek. Confused, she pushed herself upright, then winced and fell back as her skull pounded with a throbbing ache. Without any idea how long it took, she pulled herself upright and leaned against the wall. Eventually, she knew where she was…and she wasn't in the Astronomy Tower. She was in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom. Forgetting her head, Ginny whipped her head around in search of her telescope. It was lying haphazardly atop her notebook, on the floor in front of the sink across from the stall she suspected Myrtle was usually in. The mirror hanging over the sink gleamed dully in the shadows, somehow giving the impression of a malicious face…Ginny tried to avoid it, uncomfortably aware of the face from her nightmares, as if it were staring out at her. She could feel a voice like a deep vibration running under her skin, forming words she could almost but not quite understand… She hobbled over to snatch her things up as quickly as she could, only to catch sight of her hand, coated and encrusted with…something red…Ginny jumped, nearly slamming her aching head against the sink. "Oh," she groaned, as her legs sprawled out from under her. "It's…paint?"
"How did--?"
Frowning, more lost than ever, clutching her telescope, Ginny staggered out of the bathroom, water sloshing over her feet, and stopped dead as she caught sight of the wall.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS IS OPEN. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR—BEWARE!
And it was written in red paint.
"Miss Weasley," McGonagall's voice cracked like a whip behind her, the husky kitten's warmth completely absent, "just what do you think you're doing?"
"P—P—Pro—fess—sor" Ginny faltered, terrified at the prospect of being seen at the scene of such a crime, let alone in her current condition.
"I distinctly remember instructing all students to return to the dorm," Professor McGonagall continued, but her voice seemed a trifle less sharp, as if the sight of Ginny's fear had softened her anger slightly.
"Tha—That's just where I was going," Ginny said, truthfully enough. She could feel Professor McGonagall's eyes boring into her back.
"Miss Weasley—Ginny," she said, almost kindly, "is there something you want to tell me?"
Ginny fought the urge to glance down at her robes. "No, m'am," she said as naturally as she could manage.
The pause that followed was so heavy it seemed to force the air from Ginny's lungs. Just as she started to give in and say something, Professor McGonagall sighed. "In that case I have no choice--"
"Please," Ginny begged, desperate. "Please don't expel me."
McGonagall broke off short. "Why, Ginny," she exclaimed, seemingly before she could stop herself. Then, with her customary crispness, "I won't expel you this time, Miss. Weasley, but I will be taking points from Gryffindor."
"How many?" Ginny held her breath, wondering how many. A similar infraction had cost Harry and Hermione 50 each, and she'd already lost points this week…
"20 should be sufficient," McGonagall said finally. "And you'll have to serve detention. Tomorrow."
Ginny's birthday.
But if it meant she could stay at school, Ginny would do almost anything. "Now, return to your dormitory immediately," McGonagall added crisply, "before I change my mind." Ginny wasn't sure how she knew with her back to her, but Professor McGonagall was wearing a smile.
"Yes, Professor McGonagall," she said, bolting for Gryffindor tower, less afraid that McGonagall might change her mind than catch sight of the paint. Halfway down the hall she slowed half a step to shout back over her shoulder, "Thank you!"
The Common Room was dark and deserted to Ginny's everlasting relief. She crept through it and into the First Year Girls' dorm, hoping it was too dark for anyone to notice her appearance if they weren't already asleep. Luck, having abandoned her to Professor McGonagall, appeared to be on her side, however. She slid her things carefully under the bed so they wouldn't be broken by mistake while she was asleep, hastily stripped off her robe and hid it under the blankets at the foot of her bed before pulling on her pajamas.
The next morning, Ginny lay in bed pretending to be asleep until everyone else had left for breakfast. The instant she was sure they were gone, she dove under the bed and pulled out the diary.
--Tom, you have to help me.—
--Pranks on your brothers again? Isn't it a bit early to assume they've forgotten your birthday?—
--A lot more important.---
--Harry, then?—
--More important.—
--More important than the famous Harry Potter? This is serious!—
--Tom, you have to help me!! I went to the Astronomy Tower last night, and the next thing I knew I was waking up under the sink in Moaning Myrtle's creepy bathroom! I can't remember where I was or what I did last night…but there's paint all down my front! Do you think I'm going crazy, Tom?—
--Of course not. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation. Were you making Quidditch banners with your friends?–
--I don't think so…But, Tom, there's a HUGE message painted on the wall, and it's red…I think I may have done something horrible—
--That's ridiculous…I know you better than anyone else, and I know you wouldn't do anything like that.—
--You do understand me…you're the only one who does. But, Tom, why don't I remember? Where did the paint come from? And WHAT am I going to do about it?—
--I still think you were making Quidditch banners and forgot…you've been kind of absent-minded lately.—
--You're right…It's just…I'm so tired. WHY am I so tired?—
--You've been to see the nurse, right?—
--Well, yes.—
--What did she say?—
--She gave me that awful Pepperup Potion and sent me on my way.—
--So it's probably nothing serious…I think you're just working too hard, trying to prove you belong at Hogwarts.—
--Do you think that's all it is?—
--You just need to relax, Ginny. Everything will be fine. I'll take care of you. Starting with your robes…there's a simple stain-removing charm. You're good with charms—
