Yes! You thought it was dead, but now, it rises from the grave like a flesh-eating zombie! Bwahaha.
See? I told you I'd get this finished. Now all I have to do is finish both parts to Peccata Mundi, and then I'm set. Until I get myself into another mess.
In other words, I've gotten off me lazy arse and decided to write another part to Ink Scars.
Warnings: Tom/Ginny, deathfic if you look at it a certain way. Possibly could be considered to have the slightest hint of Ginny/Hermione, but it's not very obvious. This means that, yes, it's a miracle, this is primarily a het fic. If you prefer Ginny with another person, there's a nice little arrow that will take you back. Or you can let me corrupt you. I find Tom/Ginny a lovely couple because I can abuse Ginny to no end. Yay! The quote comes from 'Hero', sung by Chad Kroeger, you might know it from Spiderman.
I don't own Harry Potter, Spiderman, 'Hero' or Luxembourg. I've lived there, though. I'm so well traveled. :D I would also like to thank my dictionary god, a java Latin/English dictionary. *bows*
We hopes you enjoys it, my precious…
Fairy Blood
{Someone told me that love would all save us,
But how can that be?
Look what love gave us,
A world full of killing, and blood-spilling, that world never came…}
Ginny arrived home, or rather, the small apartment in Surrey that she and Hermione rented out. Her home would always be the Burrow.
She held a bouquet of roses in her hand, wrapped in white silk. They were a gorgeous shade of red, like they had been doused in blood.
Ginny had to stay with Hermione while Ron and Harry were out looking for Voldemort, because while Harry and Ron were off saving the world, and she and Hermione were left to be the damsels in distress.
She hated that.
Placing the roses on the kitchen table, she went to her room.
Hermione came in fifteen minutes later, her gaze settling on the flowers.
"Ginny?" She called. There was silence for a minute, before the younger girl appeared in the doorway.
"How was the doctor?" Hermione gave her a weak smile, tucking her hair behind her ears.
Ginny, dressed in a black sweater and dark blue jeans, returned the smile with a dry one.
Hermione said nothing, but noticed Ginny's hand. It looked as though it had been sliced through. Ginny quickly pulled her sweater over it.
"It was fine. Just a shrink asking me about the Chamber. Nothing special." The redhead shrugged, and suddenly glared down at the floor, as if she was trying to decide something. "I'm going to go out, get some Chinese. You want anything special?" Ginny already had her jacket on, her hand on the door.
"Sure. Get me some duck and pancakes, would you?" Hermione's eyes wandered back to the roses, and jealousy shot up like a flame.
Those were her roses.
When Hermione turned back, she met a slammed door.
---
Ginny stood on the platform, her foot tapping. She cupped her hands and blew her breath into them, but the heat of her breath did little to ease the bitter cold.
A bag of Chinese food rested at her feet. She had to take the Underground everywhere, and with Hermione being so picky about food, she had to go into London to get 'decent' take-out. Then again, the owner always gave her a discount, so it was okay, she supposed.
"Excuse me, miss?"
Ginny automatically dismissed it as another beggar, or someone looking for something. She scowled, and didn't even turn to face the man speaking to her.
"Look, I'm really sorry, but it's almost midnight, I have to get this train to get back to Waterloo, and it's freezing cold. I'm sorry, but I can't help you." She snapped, glaring at the train tracks. She didn't want to look at her 'victim', because she might end up feeling sorry for him.
"Are you sure about that?" Ginny jumped, her eyes widening. The voice was right near her ear, and had lost it's innocent tone.
She knew that voice. This was the voice that echoed around in her head at least ten times every single day of her life, since she was eleven.
She turned her head, and met two dark, blood-red eyes. A smirk danced across the blue lips, as a look of fear and surprise passed the girl's face.
The girl in front of him seemed at a loss for words, and the eyes staring at back just laughed.
The train pulled up in front of the two, blowing Ginny's hair towards the man next to her.
"You getting on?" He almost laughed, but something much more dangerous rang through his deep voice.
She didn't need to answer, because she was under his spell all over again. She shook her head dumbly. He laughed, and brushed his thumb against her cheek.
"Come along, Ginny." He roughly took her hand, and he jumped down, off of the platform and onto the tracks.
Reason ran away with the train, and when she jumped, Tom caught her.
----
They had been walking for miles, at the very least. Through dark, disturbing tunnels, with rats that hissed and squealed at their arrival.
Tom suddenly stopped, almost as if he too was lost.
A thought struck Ginny, and it struck her down hard.
"You're dead." She stated simply, almost bluntly. The man, who she was now just as old as, laughed. It wasn't that high, cold laugh, it was a deep, low one, that echoed back through the tunnels.
An almost human laugh.
"Don't you still have those scars on your arms, Ginny? Those are my mark, not unlike the Dark one. Personally, I think it's genius. I draw power from you, from all of my Death Eaters." His eyes glinted in the murky gray of the Underground tunnels, leaning in very close to her, his face parallel to hers. "That doesn't matter, anyway. The me of now is in Luxembourg. They wouldn't even consider looking for me there, it's much too peaceful, too rural, too small." This flew over Ginny, she didn't seem to realize what kind of secret she was now holding.
Harry and Ron were looking for him in India.
"How can you be here?" She whispered, but he heard her.
"I am simply a powerful memory, almost like a tangible ghost. The fact that you still believe in me is quite a nice source to draw power from." He took her wrists, and leaned in close.
Very close.
When he kisses her, the touch becomes memory, which becomes a rush of so many things she tried to forget. The diary, Harry, how she nearly killed everyone, how so much pain could have been avoided.
How Harry Potter had to save her. How she had to be the damsel in distress.
Tom's eyes are closed, his eyelashes gracing his eyelids. Ginny stares at them, her eyes half-closed and glazed.
When Tom pulls away, her lips are split, and he just stares at the color that bursts from the cut.
Touching age-old memories is never supposed to happen. It causes horrible things to happen the human body, mortal in every possible way. Body, mind and soul.
The only reason being with Tom didn't kill the eleven year old Virginia Weasley by pure touch alone was because Tom had a connection to the present - his diary.
His diary had been destroyed by his very own creature, the Basilisk's fang. He can't be here. Tom smirked, obviously in tune to her thoughts.
That poison still ran through his body, coursed through his veins. He explained, rather vaguely;
"Harry Potter made a mistake when he plunged that fang into my diary. It may have destroyed my past's link the present world;
But all memories linger on."
"You simply cannot kill them. That poison was my salvation, it filled me with that last burst of black magic that forced me to survive."
The blood that spills from Ginny is a dark, dark red, dark scarlet and crimson. Her cheek has a long gash running down it, that throbs with that same liquid.
Her eyes are dulled with the pain, she can taste metal in her mouth.
She exhales sharply as her feels something slice at her wrists, an invisible blade.
She has to get away from Tom, one more touch from him might kill her.
She tries to walk away backwards, but trips over a piece of the track. She cries out, and Tom grabs her, grabbing both her wrists again.
"Can't let anything happen to you, can I?" He murmurs, and wipes the blood off of his hands.
"Stop it!" She finally screams, her terror of Tom finally manifesting. She can see her reflection is Tom's eyes, they look like pools of blood. She closes her eyes and turns her head away.
Tom suddenly is holding her, one hand still holding her wrist, the other supporting her back. She can feel his hand eat away at the skin, as tears sting her eyes.
"Effluo memoria!" He hisses, and his eyes glow, his pupils dilating. Black and silver magic shoots out of his eyes, and into Ginny's. She chokes on her own breath, before starting to sob. He drops her, and she falls to the ground, but her body never hits it.
Rather, she hovers slightly above it, her body parallel to the ground.
Tom walks over to her, his eyes on fire. He pulls down her shirt, so that it hugs her shoulders, and smiles at his work of art, tracing it with a finger.
Her ink scars are complete, they run up her face, and into her fiery hair. Ivy clutches to her skin, and a snake bites her neck.
----
There's a knock at the door, and Hermione answers it.
Nothing.
She bites her lip, and looks around outside, and down the hallway.
Hermione looks down to her feet, and sees a bag. Bending down to open it up, she looks confused when she realizes it's the Chinese Ginny had gone to get.
"Ginny! Ginny, are you here?" She yells, picking up the bag.
A girl, invisible to the untrained Eye, sits in the corner of the entrance to the complex, sobs shaking her body.
This isn't fair. She didn't deserve this!
Outside, Tom leans against the wall of the building, paying no attention to the bitter cold.
----
Hermione sits at the kitchen table, wondering what she should do.
It must have been Ginny who left the bag.
However, the girl was nowhere to be seen.
Wondering who she should try to contact, Hermione stood up, and paced around the apartment.
She'd give Ginny one more hour. If she wasn't back by then…
She didn't want to think about that.
----
The roses, which Hermione had put into a vase earlier that night, suddenly started to glow.
The water they rested in turned blood red, and something like a shadow shot up the flowers. Their petals became black, and the thorns seemed to become much more threatening.
Ginny gasped when she touched the flowers, quickly drawing her hand back. The young man behind her smirked, and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Hermione was in a fitful sleep on the couch, still hoping that Ginny would come back.
"Go say goodbye." He whispered in her ear. She nodded, and walked towards the couch.
"Hermione?" She whispered. The girl made no movement. Ginny looked back at Tom, who shrugged, but ushered for her to continue.
"Mione, I don't know if you can hear me, but, I'm really sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. Don't come looking for me, because I can't be found."
"Ginny?" The girl murmured, her eyes half open and fogged with sleep. "Ginny, what's the matter?"
"I-I have to go, Mi. You won't remember me soon."
"Why? Ginny, what's the matter? Ginny, why are you-" Hermione's eyes focused, and soon only the outline of the girl was visible.
Ginny was on the verge of crying, and Tom looked away. Even he felt pity for her.
"Because I'm nothing more than a forgotten memory."
"Aren't we all, Ginny?"
----
"Hermione! Hermione, we're home!" Ron and Harry walked into the living room, to find Hermione sitting on the couch, both hands covering her mouth. A picture in it's frame was on her lap, and she looked worried.
"What's the matter, Hermione?" Harry and Ron leant over the side of the couch.
"Do you know who this is?" Hermione held the picture up. Harry suddenly looked very worried as well, but shook his head. Ron's face lit up.
"Of course, Hermione! That's - Oh, God, I had it a second ago. She's very pretty, though."
"I, I think she's supposed to be very important, but, but, I can't remember!" Hermione's voice almost broke into a sob, and both of the young men looked at each other, now distressed themselves. Yes, that girl in the picture looked disturbingly familiar, but the face's name was just out of their grasp.
With shaking hands, Hermione took the picture out of its frame, and turned it over to see if a name or a date was written there.
The only marking there was some smudged ink. Hermione bit her bottom lip, and her eyes scanned the front of the picture again.
Wait…who is this? She's supposed to be important, isn't she?
In the kitchen, the only midnight rose remaining dropped its first petal.
Finite Incantatem