A/N: Not a long delay, huh? Thanks for the reviews on the last part!
This part spells A-N-G-S-T...
Disclaimer: Nope!
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If there was one person in his family that Ron related to more than all of the others, it was Ginny.
When they were younger, they'd been forced into being playmates, mostly because of the fact that the older children rarely deemed to acknowledge that they even existed, much less played with them. Ginny hadn't seen anything wrong with the arrangement, as she was quite content with the situation. Ron, though, was a boy, and as such, he was always eager to gain his brothers' attention.
Unfortunately, most of the attention bestowed upon him was in the way of a makeshift punching bag.
That, of course, was where Ginny came in quite handy. She was very much the baby. And she was very much a girl. As far as Ron knew, he was the only one who had ever gotten into a physical fight with his sister. Bill and Charlie had spoiled her senselessly from the time she was born, and Percy had always seemed far too busy to be bothered. The twins might have shoved her around from time to time. And locked her in a few closets. And there was that time that George tried to drown her in the pond... But as far as a real knock-down, drag-out fight, none of them except for Ron had ever had the pleasure of participating in one of those against Ginny.
Ron had, surprisingly, participated in quite a few of those with his sister.
They were good friends when they were younger, yes, but they were also each the youngest in their own rite. Ginny was the youngest overall, and Ron was the youngest of the boys. And with less than a year of age difference between them, competition was to be expected.
Growing up, Ron had often despised his life. He was the youngest of six boys but not quite the youngest of the family. The youngest also happened to be the only girl, which only seemed to double her attention-getting ability. Ginny, though, had often whined about being the only girl, and she claimed to hate the fact that she was the baby. Ron was jealous of Ginny because she got more attention, and Ginny was jealous of Ron because he fit in a little better with the rest of their siblings.
And naturally, out of such jealousy, a small rivalry was born. And with that rivalry came the obvious fights.
Ron could remember several occasions when a heated argument had turned into shoving and then into full-out fighting. Ginny's weak spot had always been her hair, and Ron had grown quite accustomed to yanking on long red pigtails. Ginny knew the perfect retaliation, though, and her teeth marks had sometimes taken up to three days to disappear from his arm. One particularly nasty fight had been the cause of Ginny losing her first tooth, and Ron had been forced to face the humiliation of walking around for a full week with a black eye given to him by his little sister.
Things between them had never been helped by the fact that they'd had to share a room for the first years of their lives, either. Ron had been eight years old and Ginny seven when Bill had finally graduated and moved away from home, leaving an empty bedroom, but up until that year, they'd been forced to share a space with each other, which had not been the ideal arrangement for two people who had serious problems with breaking the other's things.
And, of course, each time a toy was broken or an item of clothing disappeared, another fight would ensue.
The unfairness that always followed one of their fights still baffled Ron. He had always gotten in more trouble than she had, whether he had started the fight or was just defending himself. His parents had always been quite cross with him over the brawls and had often scolded him relentlessly, their favorite quote being, "She's smaller than you!" And Ginny never failed to go crying to one of their older brothers, which always caused them to take their anger out on the littlest brother for daring to hit their sweet, precious, adorable, angelic little sister.
And shockingly, they never got in trouble for fighting with someone smaller than them...
However, despite all the fights that the two youngest Weasley siblings had engaged in and despite all of the blackened eyes, bloodied noses, and bruised ribs, they had still emerged from their childhood with a bond deeper than was shared with any of their other siblings. Bill and Charlie had always been close, Fred and George had always been inseparable, Percy had always been... well... Percy.
And Ron and Ginny had something altogether different.
They weren't the oldest in the family and hadn't grown up with the common task of trying to run a twenty-four hour baby-sitting service. Neither of them was a self-helping, independent, pompous loaner. They weren't identical twins, connected by a bond of friendship that went deeper than any genetic bond could go.
They were a brother and a sister who fought, argued, tattled on each other, battled for their parents' attention, and drew imaginary lines down the center of their room to separate their small space.
In other words, they were completely, totally, and undeniably normal.
And just as is the case with all completely, totally, and undeniably normal siblings, there was an "I can mess with them, but don't you dare even attempt it" attitude shared by both of them in relation to the other. Ron dreaded the day that Ginny got a boyfriend because he was sure that he would hate the idiot and never fully forgive him for whatever he 'might' be doing with Ginny. And he was thankful that he hadn't really seen anyone at Hogwarts pick on her because he was pretty positive that he might get expelled for killing them.
It was because of this attitude that Ron made the final decision that everyone involved in the situation that had seemingly traumatized his sister would pay for their sins.
In blood.
Really, there were only two people directly involved in it, but those two people had managed to cause enough damage for a hundred people. And for that, they would pay.
He was referring, of course, to the whole Tom Riddle/diary/Chamber of Secrets thing. The two people involved were obviously Tom Riddle himself, better known these days as You Know Who, and none other than Mr. Lucius Malfoy- darling Draco's dear dad.
Truthfully, he probably wouldn't get the chance to murder You Know Who, as that was more Harry's gig. But Mr. Malfoy- that was a whole other story.
Ron hadn't really thought about it while it was happening, but now that he was older and wiser (and he was, really), he was able to draw the conclusion that Lucius Malfoy was nothing more than a spineless coward. If he was anything else, he would have picked someone other than a naïve little eleven year old schoolgirl to do his bidding.
Honestly. Who picks on an eleven year old little girl?
But Ginny wasn't eleven anymore. She was fifteen now, and she was still being tortured by the memories of what they'd done to her.
But they would pay. Ron would make damn well sure of that.
Ginny, though she was claiming to feel fine, was anything but fine. She was tired and drained and vulnerable. And she was spending far too much time up in her dormitory away from the commotion of the Common Room. She had started the year exuberant and cheerful, and now, as the second term rolled on, she had retreated back to behaving like the shy, scared child that she'd been when she'd first come to Hogwarts.
And it was all because of that damn diary.
The night weeks before when Harry had woken him up in the middle of the night to inform him that Ginny was in the Common Room crying had been the start of it all over again. She'd gone to the hospital, had been released, and was now claiming that she was perfectly alright. Ron hadn't pushed it. He preferred to allow her to present the invincible shield that she had worked so hard on creating. But when she missed both breakfast and lunch one day in the middle of February, he started to get concerned.
"Have you seen Ginny?" He'd asked the twins first because even though Ginny didn't want them to know about her mini-relapse, they were her brothers, and if something was wrong, they had a right to know.
Fred had glanced up and down the table, as though he thought Ron hadn't already scanned the Great Hall. "She wasn't at breakfast, either, was she?" he asked coolly.
Ron shook his head.
"Maybe she's got a big project coming up and has to study," George suggested nonchalantly. Apparently, they weren't too concerned about the whereabouts of their sister.
Ron rolled his eyes and decided to try another approach. He walked away from the twins and settled himself across from Colin Creevey and Rachel Ellington. Both of the fourth years looked up when he questioned them.
"Do you know where my sister is?"
"She doesn't feel well," Rachel poured herself another glass of pumpkin juice. "I woke her up this morning, but she didn't get out of bed."
"What's wrong with her?"
Rachel shrugged. "She said her head was hurting, but she's been feeling sick a lot lately, so it wasn't a surprise."
"When has she been sick?" Every time Ron had seen Ginny in the past few weeks, she'd told him she was feeling just fine.
Rachel shrugged again. "Every single night she goes to bed before anyone else. She's always saying her head hurts, but I think she's just been sleeping too much."
Ron forgot to thank Rachel for her information before he stood up and headed for the door of the Great Hall. He had double Defense Against the Dark Arts in twenty-five minutes, and he didn't want to be late, as Professor Lupin was sure to ream him for tardiness. However, Ginny was far more important than getting blessed out by a teacher, and if something was wrong with Ginny, Ron was going to find out.
Ten minutes later, he'd made it back up to Gryffindor Tower. The few people who had returned to the Tower on the lunch break were all heading for the door on their own ways out to class. He didn't pay any of them attention; he simply walked toward the stairs leading up to the girls' side of the Tower and headed up to the second landing where the fourth years were.
The door was closed, and Ron, not knowing for sure if Ginny was the only one in the room, knocked loudly on the wood. No answer came, and Ron tried again. Silence was still his only answer, so, convinced that none of Ginny's roommates were inside, Ron slowly opened the door.
The afternoon light was dim, but with the windows open, it was still possible to see into every corner of the room. There were six beds in the long room, and Ginny's was the one closest to the opposite wall. He'd only ever been in this room on the Christmas holidays when Ginny was the only of her roommates left at school, but he knew well enough where her bed was, and he had crossed the room in record time.
His sister was lying on her back, the curtains surrounding her bed only half-pulled. Ginny's eyes were closed, and her face was eerily calm, though it was a deathly pale shade of white and her forehead was covered in a thin layer of perspiration. Her hair, which was as long as Hermione's and hung far past her shoulders, fanned out beneath her in a rather scary reflection of a halo. Ron, who had never thought of his sister as being anywhere near angelic enough to have a halo, stared for a moment.
And a chill ran through his body.
"Ginny?" he called her name quietly, frightened for a moment to reach out and touch her in fear of disturbing the calm peacefulness she was emitting. When she gave no sign of having heard him, he called her again. "Ginny, wake up."
Her head tilted slightly to the side, and he thought for a moment that she was waking up. However, her eyes remained closed, and she barely whispered something that made the earlier chill return full-force.
"No, Tom..."
"It's me, Ginny," he said, wasting no time in laying his hand on her shoulder and shaking her gently. "Come on, wake up."
"But I can't, Tom..." was the only answer. She turned her head more to the side and flinched under his touch.
Ron, having no idea what else to do, shook her roughly. "Wake up," he commanded sharply.
And it worked. Two pools of chocolate brown were revealed behind the heavy lids that Ginny forced open. She looked up at Ron as if seeing him for the first time and being confused as to who he was. A second later, though, she sat straight up.
"What time is it?" was her first question as she glanced around the empty dormitory.
"After one," he answered blankly. "What's wrong with you?"
"What?" she asked, her voice giving way to the fact that she was just a bit too jumpy. "Nothing's wrong with me."
"Why didn't you go to class?"
"I overslept," she said, carefully avoiding his eyes as she moved to get up from the bed. His hand, which was still on her shoulder, stopped her.
"Rachel said she woke you up, and you said you didn't feel good."
Ginny was quiet for a second before shrugging nonchalantly. "So, I had a headache. It's gone now." She moved once again to get up. "If I hurry, I can still make it to my afternoon classes."
"You're late already," he said simply. "And you're not going anyway."
Ginny stopped trying to get up and stared at him in what was obviously stunned disbelief. "What do you mean I'm not going?" she asked in a very controlled voice.
"You're not that thick, Gin," he answered with a pointed gaze. "Figure it out."
She stared at him for another long moment before throwing back her comforter and swinging her feet over the side of the bed. Ron tightened his grip on her shoulder, keeping her seated. Ginny, obviously growing angry, finally just shoved him and stood up.
"You're not going to class," he repeated seriously, standing up in an attempt to throw some authority around.
"You can't tell me what to do," she said haughtily. "And I am going."
"No, you're not."
"Try and stop me!" she dared, her eyes opening wider.
This time Ron shoved Ginny. Right back onto her bed. She let out a gasp of indignation and glared at him.
"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on."
"Don't swear at me," she said furiously, though it was a rich demand coming from any of the Weasley children. Well, maybe not Percy...
"Shut up, Ginny," he said briskly. "And tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing is wrong!" she cried loudly, though the slight crack in her voice gave her away.
Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Ginny, I'm the one who taught you how to lie. You can't fool me."
"Why does something always have to be wrong?" she demanded shrilly, completely ignoring his statement. "Can't I just have a headache without being interrogated?!"
"No!" he said hotly, finally losing his temper. "I know what's going on, and you're not going anywhere until you admit it!"
"What the hell are you doing in here anyway?" she asked loudly.
"Don't avoid the question."
"I'm not admitting anything!" She flung herself backwards on her bed and crossed her arms over her chest angrily. Ron was strongly reminded of the stubborn kid she had been whenever she got into one of her rather frequent pouting moods.
"Then I'm not leaving." Ron sat down and crossed his own arms.
She glared at him. "I'll tell Mum and Dad," she threatened seriously.
Ron just shrugged. "Well, then I guess I'll have to tell them the reason I was up here, won't I?"
"Leave me alone!" Her voice rose about ten octaves as she sat up and stared furiously at him. Familiar tears were pooling in the bottom of her eyes, but she was obviously refusing to let them fall.
"If nothing's wrong, then why are you crying?" he challenged smoothly.
"I'm not!" She didn't reach up and physically wipe the tears away, but it was obvious that she was trying to will them away.
"Did you forget that I know you better than anyone here?" He stared expectantly at her. "I know when you're lying, and I know when you're crying. So just stop trying to deny it."
"Why are you bothering me?" she asked, her voice weakened greatly.
Ron sighed. "I'm not trying to bother you," he said honestly. "But I want you to tell me the truth."
"Why?" she asked exasperatedly. "Why does it even matter to you?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Hmm..." he said sarcastically. "Maybe because I thought you were my sister there for a minute. But I could have been mistaken, you know..."
She sighed, and her lower lip protruded just slightly from her under her top one. She looked extremely young, though her eyes were wide with something that was the exact opposite of childhood innocence.
Her eyes revealed the fact that she was a young woman, scarred for life by a terrifying event in her childhood. Her eyes had seen far more than they should have in the short years of her life.
And she looked positively frightened beyond belief.
Finally, in so soft of a voice that Ron had to strain to hear her, she admitted it. "I'm scared."
"Tell me what's going on." Ron was no longer being sharp or sarcastic with her. He was simply being honest.
"He's back, and I can feel him." Revealing this seemed to be causing her pain. "He's there every time I close my eyes. And I try not to sleep at all, but I can't seem to do anything else. It's like all the energy is gone from me."
"Why haven't you said something?"
She shook her head and looked away.
"Ginny," he said again, "why haven't you said anything?"
"Because I'm embarrassed!" she finally blurted out.
Ron was beyond confused. "What are you embarrassed about? None of this is your fault."
Ginny just rolled her eyes slightly. "All of it is my fault."
"No, it's not," he said firmly. "I've told you that before. Nothing was your fault."
"If I hadn't been so stupid, I could have fought him in the first place, and none of this would be happening!"
Ron, knowing fully well that he wasn't going to convince Ginny of anything different, simply shook his head and changed the direction of the subject. "You should have said something before," he said calmly. "This is serious."
"And what if I had said something?" she demanded hotly. "What then? You would have run off and told Dumbledore, and he would have told Mum and Dad, and they would have yanked me back home, and then I would never be able to finish school! Is that what you want to happen?"
"Don't be daft," he said fleetingly. "You know good and well that it wouldn't have happened like that."
"Oh, really? Well, then just how would it have happened?"
Ron was stumped. In all honesty, that was exactly how it would have happened. His parents wouldn't dare allow Ginny to stay in Hogwarts; they'd have her at home so quickly, half her roommates probably wouldn't even know she'd gone missing. Their mother and father were just a bit too overprotective of their children, Ginny especially, and if they thought she was in any danger similar to the mess she'd gotten into four years ago, they wouldn't stand for her being anywhere except safely and soundly at home. So, not wanting to admit that he was wrong, Ron did the next best thing.
He lied.
"I wouldn't have run to Dumbledore."
Ginny just looked at him. "You taught me how to lie, remember?" she asked in a recap of the question he'd posed earlier. "I recognize all the signals."
"Ginny, just listen to me, damn it!" he said, now full to the brim with exasperation. He was eleven months older than her, and he was bloody well about to use that age difference to enforce his demand. "Tell me what you want me to do if you don't want me to tell anyone else."
His sister, in another seemingly 'low' moment, closed her eyes just briefly. "I don't want you to do anything."
"So, you expect me to just sit around while you go through this and pretend it isn't happening?" Clearly, he did not plan on obliging her.
But Ginny nodded. "Yes."
"Bullshit."
"Ron, just stop," she said, a twisted frown covering her face and her eyes threatening to tear up again. "You don't even know what's happening exactly."
"Then tell me!"
She tilted her head back for a moment and then shook it with closed eyes. Opening them again, she looked at him. "I don't want to."
"Virginia Charlotte," he said sharply, not knowing why he was suddenly sounding so similar to their mother, "We've told each other everything all our lives. Why won't you tell me what's really happening? Don't you trust me?"
She just stared at him. "We've not exactly been close these past few years," she pointed out, and he thought he heard a slight bitterness in her tone. "You have new best friends, remember? Or did you forget about them?"
Ron didn't have any idea why she was suddenly holding resentment toward Harry and Hermione. "That's completely different," he said, not bothering to ask why she'd sounded so bitter. "Yeah, I have friends, and so do you. But you're my sister, Ginny. You should be able to trust me enough to tell me when something's wrong."
A look of guilt covered Ginny's delicate features, and she looked down at the bed. Quietly, she said, "I do trust you."
"Then let me help you." He was well-aware of the fact that his voice was now pleading, but it didn't matter. This was Ginny.
This was his sister.
A long moment of silence droned on, and Ron thought that she was going to refuse again. This was getting to be quite tiring. Thankfully, though, she finally spoke.
"If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anyone else?"
Ron looked at her, taking in the intense look of fear that was still so present in the brown of her eyes, seeing the way she looked to be physically in pain as she sorted out her thoughts, and watching the way she was begging him with her eyes to understand.
"I won't tell," he said quietly, not able to keep the slightly creeped out tone away from his voice.
"No one, Ron," she clarified. "Not even Harry."
He nodded slightly. "Okay."
"Or Hermione," she added seriously. "Especially not Hermione."
Ron was confused. "Okay... But I thought you and Hermione were friends."
"We are," she said seriously. "But I don't want her to know about this." She pursed her lips for a second and questioned him with her eyes. "I mean, come on. You know how she is. She'd pester me to tell a teacher until she went right ahead and drove me completely mad. No offense," she added quickly.
Ron wasn't sure why he was supposed to take offense to that statement, but he shrugged anyway in response. "Okay, I won't tell her. I won't tell anyone."
"Swear?"
He nodded. "I swear."
And the silence was back. Ginny appeared to be gathering up all of her thoughts and gathering up enough bravery to finally admit them. Ron waited patiently, aware that he was now extremely late for Lupin's class but not really caring too much at all.
A single tear slid down Ginny's colorless cheek, but Ron pretended not to notice. He didn't even think that Ginny noticed.
When she finally decided to speak again her voice was timid and quiet, as though she were a shy child speaking to a stranger for the first time. "I didn't hate him."
Ron had no idea what she was talking about. The most intelligent question he could manage, though, was, "Huh?"
"Tom Riddle," she said, if possible even quieter than before. "I didn't hate him."
"Wha..." Ron drew in a bewildered breath. "What? I don't understand what you mean."
Ginny looked away again, her teeth chewing mindlessly on her bottom lip.
"I thought he was my friend... Even when I knew who he was, I couldn't hate him." Another tear fell, but neither of them noticed it. Ginny seemed suddenly faraway as she spoke, and Ron was trying to process her words. "And..." she choked slightly on her next words. "And I... I liked it."
"Liked it?" Ron bit the words out in repetition before he even realized it. "Liked what?!" He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but it was no use.
And then Ginny started to cry for real. They weren't loud sobs, as she was so prone to releasing; her tears flowed silently but in great strength.
"It's awful, I know!" she said hastily, wiping furiously at her eyes with the heels of her hands.
"What did you like?" he asked again, not making any move to comfort her.
"When he'd make do things..." She buried her face fully into her hands. "When he was in control, I felt... powerful. And I liked it."
"You liked it..." he repeated quietly, looking away and running the words over in his head.
"Stop saying it!" she cried. "I know it's horrible!"
She liked it.
She'd almost killed people.
She'd almost killed Hermione.
And she had liked it.
"That's why I couldn't fight him." She managed to go on through her tears. "He said I didn't want to fight him."
"Did you?" Ron turned his head and looked straight into the eyes of his younger sister.
"I don't know," she admitted breathlessly. "I don't know what I wanted."
Ron had no idea what to do with the information she'd just presented to him. Part of him wanted to be disgusted by her and shove her away. The larger part, though, wanted to hug her and tell her that he wouldn't let anything happen to her.
He did neither.
Instead, he just questioned her further. "But you tried to get rid of the diary."
She nodded slightly. "Yeah. Because I knew it was wrong. Because I knew I would get in trouble if I got caught." Each word seemed to agonize her even more.
"So, that's the only reason you wanted to stop? Because you were scared of getting in trouble?" He wasn't sure he even wanted to know the answer.
Ginny half-shrugged/half-shook her head. "I don't know... I mean, yeah, but no." More tears fell. "He always asked me questions about Harry, and I thought... I thought he was going to make me do something to Harry, and I... I was scared. Because you were always with Harry."
"But Hermione..." The puzzle just didn't fit.
"I know!" she said desperately. "And I'm sorry! I swear to God I'm sorry! About all of it!"
Ron didn't doubt that she was sorry, but it still didn't add up. "If you were worried about me and you were worried about Harry... then why weren't you worried about Hermione?"
This was the point where Ginny finally lost it. She started sobbing and sank down into the bed, smothering her face in the pillow. Ron barely heard her words. He wished he hadn't.
"Because I didn't like her... And I didn't care..."
Ron just stared, completely stunned by this revelation. Ginny sobbed into the pillow, and a long, long moment passed before Ron finally found his voice again.
"You didn't care? Because you didn't like her?" He hated the way his own voice broke on the last part of the question, but it didn't stop him. He was suddenly overcome with a furious rage. "You could have killed her! She could have died because of you!"
He realized far too sharply how much saying that sentence affected him, and he flinched as an almost physical pain shot through him.
And he wasn't sure which terrified him more- the fact that the sentence was true or the fact that he could barely draw breath at the mere thought of it.
Ginny, though, was far too gone to even respond. She just sobbed louder, her body shaking in a violent shuddering. "Please don't hate me," she begged in broken, barely audible, tearful sobs.
And then Ron stopped being angry. He didn't hate her, couldn't hate her.
He loved her.
And he realized that the crying teenager in front of him was not a mean person; he'd known her since the day she'd been born.
He knew it wasn't her fault.
"Ginny," he said quietly, forcing his voice to stay even and calm. "Ginny, come here."
He reached for her shoulders and lifted her up slightly, turning her around so that she could turn her sobs into his shoulder. And he let her cry.
For a straight hour, he let her cry.
And afterwards, when she'd calmed down enough, he asked her why she hadn't liked Hermione.
With tears still sliding randomly down her cheeks, she struggled to breath properly. "I was... I was just jealous of her."
"Jealous?" Ron tucked a flyaway lock of red behind her ear.
And Ginny nodded, her shoulders still shaking slightly. "Because she was so bossy... And you and Harry still liked her." She looked away. "And I wasn't used to you liking any other girls. And... I didn't think you liked me anymore."
"Why did..." But Ron knew exactly why she thought that. He'd given her no reason to believe otherwise. "Ginny, I am so sorry," he said seriously.
She shook her head. "It's not your fault. It's mine." She had finally managed to get her emotions back under control, though she was still struggling slightly with her breath.
"No," he said firmly. "It's not your fault. You were too young, and you didn't know any better." He looked at her intently. "And it was not your fault."
Ginny didn't try to contradict him, though it was clear that she wasn't convinced. Instead, she just went back to the main reason they were having this conversation. "But he's back... And what if I can't fight him this time? It won't be because I'm too young."
Ron didn't know what to say. He hoped that she wouldn't have to face that, but he knew that promising that would be promising something he couldn't guarantee. Instead, he promised something that was completely solemn.
"Well, you can come to me for anything. And I'll always be here."
The first part was solemn anyway. The last part- he couldn't really guarantee. And that was what terrified him the most. Not that he might not be there but that he wouldn't be there if Ginny needed him.
He was prepared to take whatever Fate had in store for him.
But he wasn't prepared to leave his sister to whatever Fate had in store for her.
And as Ginny started to cry again, Ron comforted her. He rocked her just slightly as their mother had done for them on so many occasions growing up. And while Ginny continued to seek comfort, the one person she'd always been able to depend on without fail made a silent promise.
Anyone who hurt Ginny was going to pay.
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Oooohhh... So, no Harry, no Hermione, no Draco, no anyone except Ron and Ginny. Hope you guys didn't mind!
Please reply!!!!
Disclaimer: Nope!
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If there was one person in his family that Ron related to more than all of the others, it was Ginny.
When they were younger, they'd been forced into being playmates, mostly because of the fact that the older children rarely deemed to acknowledge that they even existed, much less played with them. Ginny hadn't seen anything wrong with the arrangement, as she was quite content with the situation. Ron, though, was a boy, and as such, he was always eager to gain his brothers' attention.
Unfortunately, most of the attention bestowed upon him was in the way of a makeshift punching bag.
That, of course, was where Ginny came in quite handy. She was very much the baby. And she was very much a girl. As far as Ron knew, he was the only one who had ever gotten into a physical fight with his sister. Bill and Charlie had spoiled her senselessly from the time she was born, and Percy had always seemed far too busy to be bothered. The twins might have shoved her around from time to time. And locked her in a few closets. And there was that time that George tried to drown her in the pond... But as far as a real knock-down, drag-out fight, none of them except for Ron had ever had the pleasure of participating in one of those against Ginny.
Ron had, surprisingly, participated in quite a few of those with his sister.
They were good friends when they were younger, yes, but they were also each the youngest in their own rite. Ginny was the youngest overall, and Ron was the youngest of the boys. And with less than a year of age difference between them, competition was to be expected.
Growing up, Ron had often despised his life. He was the youngest of six boys but not quite the youngest of the family. The youngest also happened to be the only girl, which only seemed to double her attention-getting ability. Ginny, though, had often whined about being the only girl, and she claimed to hate the fact that she was the baby. Ron was jealous of Ginny because she got more attention, and Ginny was jealous of Ron because he fit in a little better with the rest of their siblings.
And naturally, out of such jealousy, a small rivalry was born. And with that rivalry came the obvious fights.
Ron could remember several occasions when a heated argument had turned into shoving and then into full-out fighting. Ginny's weak spot had always been her hair, and Ron had grown quite accustomed to yanking on long red pigtails. Ginny knew the perfect retaliation, though, and her teeth marks had sometimes taken up to three days to disappear from his arm. One particularly nasty fight had been the cause of Ginny losing her first tooth, and Ron had been forced to face the humiliation of walking around for a full week with a black eye given to him by his little sister.
Things between them had never been helped by the fact that they'd had to share a room for the first years of their lives, either. Ron had been eight years old and Ginny seven when Bill had finally graduated and moved away from home, leaving an empty bedroom, but up until that year, they'd been forced to share a space with each other, which had not been the ideal arrangement for two people who had serious problems with breaking the other's things.
And, of course, each time a toy was broken or an item of clothing disappeared, another fight would ensue.
The unfairness that always followed one of their fights still baffled Ron. He had always gotten in more trouble than she had, whether he had started the fight or was just defending himself. His parents had always been quite cross with him over the brawls and had often scolded him relentlessly, their favorite quote being, "She's smaller than you!" And Ginny never failed to go crying to one of their older brothers, which always caused them to take their anger out on the littlest brother for daring to hit their sweet, precious, adorable, angelic little sister.
And shockingly, they never got in trouble for fighting with someone smaller than them...
However, despite all the fights that the two youngest Weasley siblings had engaged in and despite all of the blackened eyes, bloodied noses, and bruised ribs, they had still emerged from their childhood with a bond deeper than was shared with any of their other siblings. Bill and Charlie had always been close, Fred and George had always been inseparable, Percy had always been... well... Percy.
And Ron and Ginny had something altogether different.
They weren't the oldest in the family and hadn't grown up with the common task of trying to run a twenty-four hour baby-sitting service. Neither of them was a self-helping, independent, pompous loaner. They weren't identical twins, connected by a bond of friendship that went deeper than any genetic bond could go.
They were a brother and a sister who fought, argued, tattled on each other, battled for their parents' attention, and drew imaginary lines down the center of their room to separate their small space.
In other words, they were completely, totally, and undeniably normal.
And just as is the case with all completely, totally, and undeniably normal siblings, there was an "I can mess with them, but don't you dare even attempt it" attitude shared by both of them in relation to the other. Ron dreaded the day that Ginny got a boyfriend because he was sure that he would hate the idiot and never fully forgive him for whatever he 'might' be doing with Ginny. And he was thankful that he hadn't really seen anyone at Hogwarts pick on her because he was pretty positive that he might get expelled for killing them.
It was because of this attitude that Ron made the final decision that everyone involved in the situation that had seemingly traumatized his sister would pay for their sins.
In blood.
Really, there were only two people directly involved in it, but those two people had managed to cause enough damage for a hundred people. And for that, they would pay.
He was referring, of course, to the whole Tom Riddle/diary/Chamber of Secrets thing. The two people involved were obviously Tom Riddle himself, better known these days as You Know Who, and none other than Mr. Lucius Malfoy- darling Draco's dear dad.
Truthfully, he probably wouldn't get the chance to murder You Know Who, as that was more Harry's gig. But Mr. Malfoy- that was a whole other story.
Ron hadn't really thought about it while it was happening, but now that he was older and wiser (and he was, really), he was able to draw the conclusion that Lucius Malfoy was nothing more than a spineless coward. If he was anything else, he would have picked someone other than a naïve little eleven year old schoolgirl to do his bidding.
Honestly. Who picks on an eleven year old little girl?
But Ginny wasn't eleven anymore. She was fifteen now, and she was still being tortured by the memories of what they'd done to her.
But they would pay. Ron would make damn well sure of that.
Ginny, though she was claiming to feel fine, was anything but fine. She was tired and drained and vulnerable. And she was spending far too much time up in her dormitory away from the commotion of the Common Room. She had started the year exuberant and cheerful, and now, as the second term rolled on, she had retreated back to behaving like the shy, scared child that she'd been when she'd first come to Hogwarts.
And it was all because of that damn diary.
The night weeks before when Harry had woken him up in the middle of the night to inform him that Ginny was in the Common Room crying had been the start of it all over again. She'd gone to the hospital, had been released, and was now claiming that she was perfectly alright. Ron hadn't pushed it. He preferred to allow her to present the invincible shield that she had worked so hard on creating. But when she missed both breakfast and lunch one day in the middle of February, he started to get concerned.
"Have you seen Ginny?" He'd asked the twins first because even though Ginny didn't want them to know about her mini-relapse, they were her brothers, and if something was wrong, they had a right to know.
Fred had glanced up and down the table, as though he thought Ron hadn't already scanned the Great Hall. "She wasn't at breakfast, either, was she?" he asked coolly.
Ron shook his head.
"Maybe she's got a big project coming up and has to study," George suggested nonchalantly. Apparently, they weren't too concerned about the whereabouts of their sister.
Ron rolled his eyes and decided to try another approach. He walked away from the twins and settled himself across from Colin Creevey and Rachel Ellington. Both of the fourth years looked up when he questioned them.
"Do you know where my sister is?"
"She doesn't feel well," Rachel poured herself another glass of pumpkin juice. "I woke her up this morning, but she didn't get out of bed."
"What's wrong with her?"
Rachel shrugged. "She said her head was hurting, but she's been feeling sick a lot lately, so it wasn't a surprise."
"When has she been sick?" Every time Ron had seen Ginny in the past few weeks, she'd told him she was feeling just fine.
Rachel shrugged again. "Every single night she goes to bed before anyone else. She's always saying her head hurts, but I think she's just been sleeping too much."
Ron forgot to thank Rachel for her information before he stood up and headed for the door of the Great Hall. He had double Defense Against the Dark Arts in twenty-five minutes, and he didn't want to be late, as Professor Lupin was sure to ream him for tardiness. However, Ginny was far more important than getting blessed out by a teacher, and if something was wrong with Ginny, Ron was going to find out.
Ten minutes later, he'd made it back up to Gryffindor Tower. The few people who had returned to the Tower on the lunch break were all heading for the door on their own ways out to class. He didn't pay any of them attention; he simply walked toward the stairs leading up to the girls' side of the Tower and headed up to the second landing where the fourth years were.
The door was closed, and Ron, not knowing for sure if Ginny was the only one in the room, knocked loudly on the wood. No answer came, and Ron tried again. Silence was still his only answer, so, convinced that none of Ginny's roommates were inside, Ron slowly opened the door.
The afternoon light was dim, but with the windows open, it was still possible to see into every corner of the room. There were six beds in the long room, and Ginny's was the one closest to the opposite wall. He'd only ever been in this room on the Christmas holidays when Ginny was the only of her roommates left at school, but he knew well enough where her bed was, and he had crossed the room in record time.
His sister was lying on her back, the curtains surrounding her bed only half-pulled. Ginny's eyes were closed, and her face was eerily calm, though it was a deathly pale shade of white and her forehead was covered in a thin layer of perspiration. Her hair, which was as long as Hermione's and hung far past her shoulders, fanned out beneath her in a rather scary reflection of a halo. Ron, who had never thought of his sister as being anywhere near angelic enough to have a halo, stared for a moment.
And a chill ran through his body.
"Ginny?" he called her name quietly, frightened for a moment to reach out and touch her in fear of disturbing the calm peacefulness she was emitting. When she gave no sign of having heard him, he called her again. "Ginny, wake up."
Her head tilted slightly to the side, and he thought for a moment that she was waking up. However, her eyes remained closed, and she barely whispered something that made the earlier chill return full-force.
"No, Tom..."
"It's me, Ginny," he said, wasting no time in laying his hand on her shoulder and shaking her gently. "Come on, wake up."
"But I can't, Tom..." was the only answer. She turned her head more to the side and flinched under his touch.
Ron, having no idea what else to do, shook her roughly. "Wake up," he commanded sharply.
And it worked. Two pools of chocolate brown were revealed behind the heavy lids that Ginny forced open. She looked up at Ron as if seeing him for the first time and being confused as to who he was. A second later, though, she sat straight up.
"What time is it?" was her first question as she glanced around the empty dormitory.
"After one," he answered blankly. "What's wrong with you?"
"What?" she asked, her voice giving way to the fact that she was just a bit too jumpy. "Nothing's wrong with me."
"Why didn't you go to class?"
"I overslept," she said, carefully avoiding his eyes as she moved to get up from the bed. His hand, which was still on her shoulder, stopped her.
"Rachel said she woke you up, and you said you didn't feel good."
Ginny was quiet for a second before shrugging nonchalantly. "So, I had a headache. It's gone now." She moved once again to get up. "If I hurry, I can still make it to my afternoon classes."
"You're late already," he said simply. "And you're not going anyway."
Ginny stopped trying to get up and stared at him in what was obviously stunned disbelief. "What do you mean I'm not going?" she asked in a very controlled voice.
"You're not that thick, Gin," he answered with a pointed gaze. "Figure it out."
She stared at him for another long moment before throwing back her comforter and swinging her feet over the side of the bed. Ron tightened his grip on her shoulder, keeping her seated. Ginny, obviously growing angry, finally just shoved him and stood up.
"You're not going to class," he repeated seriously, standing up in an attempt to throw some authority around.
"You can't tell me what to do," she said haughtily. "And I am going."
"No, you're not."
"Try and stop me!" she dared, her eyes opening wider.
This time Ron shoved Ginny. Right back onto her bed. She let out a gasp of indignation and glared at him.
"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on."
"Don't swear at me," she said furiously, though it was a rich demand coming from any of the Weasley children. Well, maybe not Percy...
"Shut up, Ginny," he said briskly. "And tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing is wrong!" she cried loudly, though the slight crack in her voice gave her away.
Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Ginny, I'm the one who taught you how to lie. You can't fool me."
"Why does something always have to be wrong?" she demanded shrilly, completely ignoring his statement. "Can't I just have a headache without being interrogated?!"
"No!" he said hotly, finally losing his temper. "I know what's going on, and you're not going anywhere until you admit it!"
"What the hell are you doing in here anyway?" she asked loudly.
"Don't avoid the question."
"I'm not admitting anything!" She flung herself backwards on her bed and crossed her arms over her chest angrily. Ron was strongly reminded of the stubborn kid she had been whenever she got into one of her rather frequent pouting moods.
"Then I'm not leaving." Ron sat down and crossed his own arms.
She glared at him. "I'll tell Mum and Dad," she threatened seriously.
Ron just shrugged. "Well, then I guess I'll have to tell them the reason I was up here, won't I?"
"Leave me alone!" Her voice rose about ten octaves as she sat up and stared furiously at him. Familiar tears were pooling in the bottom of her eyes, but she was obviously refusing to let them fall.
"If nothing's wrong, then why are you crying?" he challenged smoothly.
"I'm not!" She didn't reach up and physically wipe the tears away, but it was obvious that she was trying to will them away.
"Did you forget that I know you better than anyone here?" He stared expectantly at her. "I know when you're lying, and I know when you're crying. So just stop trying to deny it."
"Why are you bothering me?" she asked, her voice weakened greatly.
Ron sighed. "I'm not trying to bother you," he said honestly. "But I want you to tell me the truth."
"Why?" she asked exasperatedly. "Why does it even matter to you?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Hmm..." he said sarcastically. "Maybe because I thought you were my sister there for a minute. But I could have been mistaken, you know..."
She sighed, and her lower lip protruded just slightly from her under her top one. She looked extremely young, though her eyes were wide with something that was the exact opposite of childhood innocence.
Her eyes revealed the fact that she was a young woman, scarred for life by a terrifying event in her childhood. Her eyes had seen far more than they should have in the short years of her life.
And she looked positively frightened beyond belief.
Finally, in so soft of a voice that Ron had to strain to hear her, she admitted it. "I'm scared."
"Tell me what's going on." Ron was no longer being sharp or sarcastic with her. He was simply being honest.
"He's back, and I can feel him." Revealing this seemed to be causing her pain. "He's there every time I close my eyes. And I try not to sleep at all, but I can't seem to do anything else. It's like all the energy is gone from me."
"Why haven't you said something?"
She shook her head and looked away.
"Ginny," he said again, "why haven't you said anything?"
"Because I'm embarrassed!" she finally blurted out.
Ron was beyond confused. "What are you embarrassed about? None of this is your fault."
Ginny just rolled her eyes slightly. "All of it is my fault."
"No, it's not," he said firmly. "I've told you that before. Nothing was your fault."
"If I hadn't been so stupid, I could have fought him in the first place, and none of this would be happening!"
Ron, knowing fully well that he wasn't going to convince Ginny of anything different, simply shook his head and changed the direction of the subject. "You should have said something before," he said calmly. "This is serious."
"And what if I had said something?" she demanded hotly. "What then? You would have run off and told Dumbledore, and he would have told Mum and Dad, and they would have yanked me back home, and then I would never be able to finish school! Is that what you want to happen?"
"Don't be daft," he said fleetingly. "You know good and well that it wouldn't have happened like that."
"Oh, really? Well, then just how would it have happened?"
Ron was stumped. In all honesty, that was exactly how it would have happened. His parents wouldn't dare allow Ginny to stay in Hogwarts; they'd have her at home so quickly, half her roommates probably wouldn't even know she'd gone missing. Their mother and father were just a bit too overprotective of their children, Ginny especially, and if they thought she was in any danger similar to the mess she'd gotten into four years ago, they wouldn't stand for her being anywhere except safely and soundly at home. So, not wanting to admit that he was wrong, Ron did the next best thing.
He lied.
"I wouldn't have run to Dumbledore."
Ginny just looked at him. "You taught me how to lie, remember?" she asked in a recap of the question he'd posed earlier. "I recognize all the signals."
"Ginny, just listen to me, damn it!" he said, now full to the brim with exasperation. He was eleven months older than her, and he was bloody well about to use that age difference to enforce his demand. "Tell me what you want me to do if you don't want me to tell anyone else."
His sister, in another seemingly 'low' moment, closed her eyes just briefly. "I don't want you to do anything."
"So, you expect me to just sit around while you go through this and pretend it isn't happening?" Clearly, he did not plan on obliging her.
But Ginny nodded. "Yes."
"Bullshit."
"Ron, just stop," she said, a twisted frown covering her face and her eyes threatening to tear up again. "You don't even know what's happening exactly."
"Then tell me!"
She tilted her head back for a moment and then shook it with closed eyes. Opening them again, she looked at him. "I don't want to."
"Virginia Charlotte," he said sharply, not knowing why he was suddenly sounding so similar to their mother, "We've told each other everything all our lives. Why won't you tell me what's really happening? Don't you trust me?"
She just stared at him. "We've not exactly been close these past few years," she pointed out, and he thought he heard a slight bitterness in her tone. "You have new best friends, remember? Or did you forget about them?"
Ron didn't have any idea why she was suddenly holding resentment toward Harry and Hermione. "That's completely different," he said, not bothering to ask why she'd sounded so bitter. "Yeah, I have friends, and so do you. But you're my sister, Ginny. You should be able to trust me enough to tell me when something's wrong."
A look of guilt covered Ginny's delicate features, and she looked down at the bed. Quietly, she said, "I do trust you."
"Then let me help you." He was well-aware of the fact that his voice was now pleading, but it didn't matter. This was Ginny.
This was his sister.
A long moment of silence droned on, and Ron thought that she was going to refuse again. This was getting to be quite tiring. Thankfully, though, she finally spoke.
"If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anyone else?"
Ron looked at her, taking in the intense look of fear that was still so present in the brown of her eyes, seeing the way she looked to be physically in pain as she sorted out her thoughts, and watching the way she was begging him with her eyes to understand.
"I won't tell," he said quietly, not able to keep the slightly creeped out tone away from his voice.
"No one, Ron," she clarified. "Not even Harry."
He nodded slightly. "Okay."
"Or Hermione," she added seriously. "Especially not Hermione."
Ron was confused. "Okay... But I thought you and Hermione were friends."
"We are," she said seriously. "But I don't want her to know about this." She pursed her lips for a second and questioned him with her eyes. "I mean, come on. You know how she is. She'd pester me to tell a teacher until she went right ahead and drove me completely mad. No offense," she added quickly.
Ron wasn't sure why he was supposed to take offense to that statement, but he shrugged anyway in response. "Okay, I won't tell her. I won't tell anyone."
"Swear?"
He nodded. "I swear."
And the silence was back. Ginny appeared to be gathering up all of her thoughts and gathering up enough bravery to finally admit them. Ron waited patiently, aware that he was now extremely late for Lupin's class but not really caring too much at all.
A single tear slid down Ginny's colorless cheek, but Ron pretended not to notice. He didn't even think that Ginny noticed.
When she finally decided to speak again her voice was timid and quiet, as though she were a shy child speaking to a stranger for the first time. "I didn't hate him."
Ron had no idea what she was talking about. The most intelligent question he could manage, though, was, "Huh?"
"Tom Riddle," she said, if possible even quieter than before. "I didn't hate him."
"Wha..." Ron drew in a bewildered breath. "What? I don't understand what you mean."
Ginny looked away again, her teeth chewing mindlessly on her bottom lip.
"I thought he was my friend... Even when I knew who he was, I couldn't hate him." Another tear fell, but neither of them noticed it. Ginny seemed suddenly faraway as she spoke, and Ron was trying to process her words. "And..." she choked slightly on her next words. "And I... I liked it."
"Liked it?" Ron bit the words out in repetition before he even realized it. "Liked what?!" He didn't mean to sound so harsh, but it was no use.
And then Ginny started to cry for real. They weren't loud sobs, as she was so prone to releasing; her tears flowed silently but in great strength.
"It's awful, I know!" she said hastily, wiping furiously at her eyes with the heels of her hands.
"What did you like?" he asked again, not making any move to comfort her.
"When he'd make do things..." She buried her face fully into her hands. "When he was in control, I felt... powerful. And I liked it."
"You liked it..." he repeated quietly, looking away and running the words over in his head.
"Stop saying it!" she cried. "I know it's horrible!"
She liked it.
She'd almost killed people.
She'd almost killed Hermione.
And she had liked it.
"That's why I couldn't fight him." She managed to go on through her tears. "He said I didn't want to fight him."
"Did you?" Ron turned his head and looked straight into the eyes of his younger sister.
"I don't know," she admitted breathlessly. "I don't know what I wanted."
Ron had no idea what to do with the information she'd just presented to him. Part of him wanted to be disgusted by her and shove her away. The larger part, though, wanted to hug her and tell her that he wouldn't let anything happen to her.
He did neither.
Instead, he just questioned her further. "But you tried to get rid of the diary."
She nodded slightly. "Yeah. Because I knew it was wrong. Because I knew I would get in trouble if I got caught." Each word seemed to agonize her even more.
"So, that's the only reason you wanted to stop? Because you were scared of getting in trouble?" He wasn't sure he even wanted to know the answer.
Ginny half-shrugged/half-shook her head. "I don't know... I mean, yeah, but no." More tears fell. "He always asked me questions about Harry, and I thought... I thought he was going to make me do something to Harry, and I... I was scared. Because you were always with Harry."
"But Hermione..." The puzzle just didn't fit.
"I know!" she said desperately. "And I'm sorry! I swear to God I'm sorry! About all of it!"
Ron didn't doubt that she was sorry, but it still didn't add up. "If you were worried about me and you were worried about Harry... then why weren't you worried about Hermione?"
This was the point where Ginny finally lost it. She started sobbing and sank down into the bed, smothering her face in the pillow. Ron barely heard her words. He wished he hadn't.
"Because I didn't like her... And I didn't care..."
Ron just stared, completely stunned by this revelation. Ginny sobbed into the pillow, and a long, long moment passed before Ron finally found his voice again.
"You didn't care? Because you didn't like her?" He hated the way his own voice broke on the last part of the question, but it didn't stop him. He was suddenly overcome with a furious rage. "You could have killed her! She could have died because of you!"
He realized far too sharply how much saying that sentence affected him, and he flinched as an almost physical pain shot through him.
And he wasn't sure which terrified him more- the fact that the sentence was true or the fact that he could barely draw breath at the mere thought of it.
Ginny, though, was far too gone to even respond. She just sobbed louder, her body shaking in a violent shuddering. "Please don't hate me," she begged in broken, barely audible, tearful sobs.
And then Ron stopped being angry. He didn't hate her, couldn't hate her.
He loved her.
And he realized that the crying teenager in front of him was not a mean person; he'd known her since the day she'd been born.
He knew it wasn't her fault.
"Ginny," he said quietly, forcing his voice to stay even and calm. "Ginny, come here."
He reached for her shoulders and lifted her up slightly, turning her around so that she could turn her sobs into his shoulder. And he let her cry.
For a straight hour, he let her cry.
And afterwards, when she'd calmed down enough, he asked her why she hadn't liked Hermione.
With tears still sliding randomly down her cheeks, she struggled to breath properly. "I was... I was just jealous of her."
"Jealous?" Ron tucked a flyaway lock of red behind her ear.
And Ginny nodded, her shoulders still shaking slightly. "Because she was so bossy... And you and Harry still liked her." She looked away. "And I wasn't used to you liking any other girls. And... I didn't think you liked me anymore."
"Why did..." But Ron knew exactly why she thought that. He'd given her no reason to believe otherwise. "Ginny, I am so sorry," he said seriously.
She shook her head. "It's not your fault. It's mine." She had finally managed to get her emotions back under control, though she was still struggling slightly with her breath.
"No," he said firmly. "It's not your fault. You were too young, and you didn't know any better." He looked at her intently. "And it was not your fault."
Ginny didn't try to contradict him, though it was clear that she wasn't convinced. Instead, she just went back to the main reason they were having this conversation. "But he's back... And what if I can't fight him this time? It won't be because I'm too young."
Ron didn't know what to say. He hoped that she wouldn't have to face that, but he knew that promising that would be promising something he couldn't guarantee. Instead, he promised something that was completely solemn.
"Well, you can come to me for anything. And I'll always be here."
The first part was solemn anyway. The last part- he couldn't really guarantee. And that was what terrified him the most. Not that he might not be there but that he wouldn't be there if Ginny needed him.
He was prepared to take whatever Fate had in store for him.
But he wasn't prepared to leave his sister to whatever Fate had in store for her.
And as Ginny started to cry again, Ron comforted her. He rocked her just slightly as their mother had done for them on so many occasions growing up. And while Ginny continued to seek comfort, the one person she'd always been able to depend on without fail made a silent promise.
Anyone who hurt Ginny was going to pay.
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Oooohhh... So, no Harry, no Hermione, no Draco, no anyone except Ron and Ginny. Hope you guys didn't mind!
Please reply!!!!
