"Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power"
by Jedi Amoira
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Disclaimer--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! 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!

EEDOE--Your review made me blush--I guess I know how Ginny feels! Ginny is so much fun and tells her story so well, I would love to keep writing it forever, but we'll have to see how long the muse holds out...and what happens with Book 5.

ShadowRomantic--I can see your point...it's kind of like being stuck between parallel universes to combine the dialogue too much. On the other hand, since Harry doesn't see everything, sometimes the movie makes a nice touchstone for other scenes, and I like to try to harmonize the two versions in my stories, if that makes sense.

Hilary and Jess--I totally agree...the summary is boring, but I'm having trouble with a short description. I'd be glad to welcome suggestions.
Ever-Faithful Bill :-)--Your prompt loyalty is amazing! Thanks! You're right about Quidditch (the rant had me giggling wildly)...why don't they sign release forms or take more precautions? Maybe culpability is different in the magic world since medicene is so much neater (replacing bones in a night!)? I'm glad you think this was up to par...I hope I can keep living up to expectations. I will be a little sad if JK contradicts everything I've dreamed up, but it is her universe...depending on how inspiration strikes, I might revise this story accordingly...*stares into space and nods absently*
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Ginny looked at her watch for what must have been the tenth time. The large hand was pointing indignantly toward 'Waiting'. The small hand rested squarely on 'Late'. She pushed air out from between her lips in a sharp burst, trying to retain a hold on her temper that was beginning to feel tenuous at best. She looked around the Common Room again, but there was still no sign anyone besides herself was still awake. She toyed with the idea of leaving without him, but that seemed mean, especially as the visit had been his idea to begin with...Ginny sighed and shifted her weight from foot to foot.

A tremor seemed to sigh through her like a voice calling her name ~Ginny~

Ginny frowned and rubbed her hands along her arms as if trying to shake a sudden chill.

~I know what you want to do-- "no one understands like you like I do"~

Ginny had taken a step toward the Portrait Hole without even realizing it. "Mum's right," she said, her voice too loud, too alive in the empty Common Room. "I do have an overactive imagination."

~Why sit here fretting over people who can't be bothered to remember you? There's so much else to see, so much else to learn, so much else to do?~

She could almost see, from the back of her mind, a pair of large gray eyes staring out at her, imploring...Ginny blinked. She'd been standing here so long, she was falling asleep on her feet. She reached up to rub at her eyes, and suddenly staggered forward, nearly tumbling headfirst into the Portrait.

The Fat Lady swung open with a disgruntled snort. "Thanks for the warning. So considerate."

Ginny looked over her shoulder to apologize, but she was already walking along the corridor. "But--I don't want to leave yet," she said in confusion. "Colin..." Her feet continued their inexorable progress along the hallway.

"Stop," Ginny commanded, aware of the strange surreality of her situation. She struggled to stop moving, to turn her steps back toward the dormitory. "Go back."

Nothing happened.

With a shock, Ginny knew something was horribly wrong.

"I want to go back," she cried hopelessly, her voice high and thin to her own ears.

~You want to keep going.~ The response was a deep yearning in every muscle of her body, and tears began to run down Ginny's face as she stumbled onward blindly under the unyielding stare of those buried gray eyes.

She began to shake when she saw Myrtle's bathroom.

Darkness speared through her head, radiating pain. Ginny clasped her head in hands, digging at her hair, pushing her palms into her eyes, tossing her head back and forth as if she could shake the invasion loose, drive it--drive him--out. She was panting with exertion, barely conscious of the clammy stone walls or Myrtle's muffled wailing from the stall on the end. "What...is...happening...to...me.."

All around her, reality seemed to bend.

She opened her mouth, but a light, icy male voice emerged, speaking a ghostly, echoing language full of hissing breaths. Slowly, moving as if through water, Ginny raised a hand to her throat. She could see her reflection in the mirror, but she wasn't alone...

The man from her dream was looking back at her from over her shoulder.

Ginny jumped and forced her head around to look behind her.

There was no one there.

She felt reality break.

The circle of sinks slid apart as if the earth were opening up to swallow her in her madness. Ginny swallowed.

Then, she heard another hiss deep within the bowels of the earth, but it was as if this hiss--a voice that definitely wasn't human--was one she understood. *Blood...I smell blood...So hungry...so long...Kill...Rip...Tear...*

Something very large brushed past her in the shadows. It felt cool and rough, scraping across her skin and stone.

Horror and bile rose violently up within her, cutting off her air. Ginny tried to scream, pushed every particle of her soul into forming a single word--No--but her very veins pulsed with a dark and primal hunger and a satisfaction she scarcely understood, and every cell of her body burned Yes. Pain ripped through her where the two words seemed to meet, and it was as though she were being torn in half from the inside out.

She wanted to pass out, but she couldn't let herself do that--she had to follow the snake.

Fighting her traitorous body every step of the way, Ginny inched after it. And, reached the door of the bathroom just in time to catch sight of Colin coming around the corner, carrying his ever-present camera, and a bunch of grapes he must have saved from dinner. Her breath caught in a tearing sob, and she reached out her hand as if to stop him. He did stop, with the unnatural stillness of someone who thinks he has heard something, and Ginny found herself willing him over and over again to turn and run. Instead, Colin did what came naturally. He lifted his camera and turned, ready to capture whatever new surprise awaited him--and then he was falling over backward, stiff and still as the dead, his skin so white he seemed to glow in the dark.

Once again, Ginny didn't make a sound, but she was screaming inside, over and over again, a wail without beginning and without end that seemed to go on and on, tearing sanity and hope to shreds in its wake. She wanted to rush to Colin's side and help him, but all she could manage was to sit there with her arms wrapped around her chest and rock desperately back and forth.

Ginny heard footsteps.

She hoped they found her...she hoped they knew what to do...she knew she was mad...

And suddenly, everything went black.