Harry Potter and the Seers' Truth
By Lady Lestrange
Mors Mordre
Chapter 44
10 REVIEWS. Here's the new chapter—I really hate blackmailing you into reviewing, but hey, I'm a Slytherin. It's in my nature, so when there are 10 reviews for this chapter, the next one will magically appear. Love my readers and reviewers. Answers to reviews follow the story.
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters and previous situations belong to JK Rowlings. No infringement is meant or implied. No money is made from this Fanfic. THANKS JK.
--LADY LESTRANGE
***
(A/N: I've been reading a number of fanfics in installments like this one myself, and find it is sometimes hard to remember exactly what has happened before-In a fic as complex as this one is, I thought having a reminder may be helpful for you. If you want to skip it, just page down FIVE times. --Lady Lestrange)
UP TO THIS POINT: Parvati has been having dreams and visions about the Dark Lord, Harry and a Prophecy Child. So far, they are not sure who the prophecy child is, and it is important for them to find him/her. The Sorting Hat is not sorting, so the students have "little brothers and sisters" to show around. The dream team thinks that The Sorting Hat failing is a plot to hide the Prophecy child from the teachers and anyone who can help insure that he/she stays on the side of light. No one is sure that the brothers and sisters actually belong to the house they are currently in.
The Hogwarts Express has been attacked. Dark Marks have been in the sky. The floo network is compromised. The Minister of Magic has been turned. Snape is now teaching both Defense and Advanced Defense, but it looks like Advanced Defense is just an excuse to let the Slytherins and Ginny and Edward visit the Dark Lord. Mrs. Figg is teaching potions and we know very little about her so far, except that she was against Dumbledore's suggestion to make Poly Juice Potion.
Beatrice is an animagus, a bunny. Edward's granny looks like she could have given the Dursleys a few pointers on cruelty. Slytherin is a house at war according to Snape, divided between Death Eaters and those who want to stay on the side of light. Harry uses his Invisibility Cloak and finds out when it is ripped, the Invisibility spell ceases. There is an unwelcome addition to Myrtle's bathroom, Olive Hornby. Peeves is his usual annoying self, but the Baron seems to have a little less control over him.
Samara, for some reason, lofts some wicked, powerful curses. She doesn't look like she has total control over them, which isn't really surprising since she's learned magic on her own from a book, that Harry is sure is a dark book. She seems to like Draco, but don't assume this is a romance. It is not. Ginny is still hearing voices in her head. Harry's scar is hurting more, and neither he nor Ginny know what this means. Ginny is closer with Harry this year, but again, not romantically. There is Edward, the new Gryffindor, who seems interested in Ginny, but Ginny really hasn't gotten over Tom.
We find out about Neville's powerful auror parents. We learn that Neville has a memory charm that was put on him as a baby. He's a more powerful wizard than anyone ever thought as evidenced by his yew wand and the way he reacts to Snape's ministrations in trying to remove the memory charm. We might wonder why Snape is trying to do this himself, instead of enlisting the help of Madam Pomfrey. Sirius and Lupin are on "fieldtrips" with the sixth and seventh years.
Of course we can also wonder why Snape is so determined to teach his classes advanced spells like the Patronus, or we can just chalk it up to Snape, being mean. The Fifth year class starts apparition classes and we meet Professor Sinistra. We also visit Hufflepuff, where we see The Wall, and Slytherin house, where we discover, to our amazement, a magic room that Draco shares with Samara, but Samara has a very unslytherin use for the room. Ravenclaw to come next weekend.
The chapter, CHAINED AND CHARMED, takes place at the same time as DANCING IS AN OUT OF BODY EXPERIENCE-when Samara was in Slytherin, dancing. It is Saturday afternoon. Harry and the Gryffindors examine Samara's Dark Book, after they come back from lunch. They find an extreme potion, and decide they need to make a trip to the Chamber of Secrets. Ghastly Ghostly Dinner is when Gryffindor's meet with Samara after her little trip to Slytherin. Samara and Beatrice are persuaded by Edward to help him steal his snake back from his brother Ethan. Things get a little out of hand, and Samara learns more about Slytherin than she ever wanted to know.
Now the Gryffindors are mad at her. Samara wants to make up and be friends with them, but is it possible to befriend both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy? How far will she go to make up, or will she just find some valuable information to store away for future use? (So, don't you want one of those Tee shirts?)
LIONS AND TIGERS: We see a very stressed out Snap both in Harry's memory of what happened with Snap and Neville and in the actual DADA class. We find out Trelawney doesn't want Samara in her class and Samara decides to take Ancient Runes instead. McGonagall assures Samara that Trelawney has done her a favor. McGonagall further talks to Samara about her experiences in Gryffindor, opening the door to give Samara someone to talk to, if she so chooses. We also learned lots more about animagi in McGonagall's class. Snape dismisses the Gryffifndors and keeps the Slytherins after class. We find out it's because Snape wants them to practice their patronus because the Slytherins are so lousy at the spell. Could it be because there are so few happy memories to chose from?
In DRAGON BREATH AND BLUDGER BATS, Ginny and Edward set the Slytherins up with fire mints, and Samara gets extremely angry at them both because they hurt her friends. In an effort to contain her anger, she goes to the Quiddich pitch where she meets Fred and George. After lobbing a few quaffles at them in her anger, they decide to ask her to be a Beater for Gryffindor. She refuses, but later when she talks to Draco, he is not very nice to her, (hey, who said Draco was a nice guy?) so she wonders whether or not she should take the Beater job.
In WISH IT REAL; WISH IT NOT we see into one of Ginny's dreams. If you don't remember this dream, go and re-read chapter 28. In Chapter 29, THE SPELLING BEE, Samara is feeling homesick and friendless until Draco invites Samara back to Slytherin. Also, includes a short intro into what's coming up in potions class.
In Chapter 30, CHILD OF GRYFFINDOR, Neville and Snape break the Imperio part of the Memory Charm. The trio discusses the Founders' spells, which put their gifts in the Sorting Hat; however they do not have the original parseltongue version of Salazar's spell. Ginny also sees Edward painting and the reader sees a bit of Ginny and Tom's relationship. In SLYTHERIN GAMES—Well, if you don't remember it, you better re-read. Voldemort is finally out and angry—burning and pillaging and we see a little-known inside version of Slytherin through Ginny's eyes. In STICKY SITUATIONS, Samara uses her adhere charm on the Weasley twins, Neville sticks Beatrice's wand to his with bubble gum, and Edward is sticking in Gryffindor.
In OW POST the Slytherins get even for the Dragon Breath Mints, among other things—
In the Ravenclaw chapter—I'm still trying to think of a good name for it—Help me please—we meet a number of Ravenclaws and find out a little more about the characters, in Ravenclaw as well as Edward and Samara. So do you think either of them are really Ravenclaws? Hmmmm? In chapter 35 we meet Sirius again who plans to have a talk with Dumbledore about his keeping Harry safe and of course what that nasty Snape is doing to poor Neville. The Quiddich Game and then more of Neville's awesome Auror parents.
The war is heating up and touching the lives of the children. This story is rapidly approaching –nasty things. Not for the faint of heart. Last chapter, we had a relaxing time at Hogsmeade. Samara bounces from friend to friend and Harry has some nasty dreams, and Harry is shocked to find out that Ron and Hermione are a couple. We knew that already though, right?
In THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS the trio did some exploring, but failed to find the basilisk eggs. They found other things though. Obviously, they have to go back, but first Ginny gives them some instructions.
In THE CHAMBER, THE WALL, THE WAND AND THE WINDOW, Ginny gives the trio some instructions about the Chamber, the Gryffindor boys are having trouble sleeping and Harry's talking to the Snake, Kauket. Parvati has yet another vision, about a muggle and the earlier one about the wand is explored. Trelawney tells Ginny she will open a window to the past—Didn't she already do that? Is Trelawney a little late with this prediction, or does it mean something else?
In NO MORE GAMES we return to ADADA class and Ginny finds out by using the Quick Quotes Quill that the class is more than she planned, but the notes are stolen, so she has no proof to go to Dumbledore with—So she takes matters into her own hands. In PERVIGILO ARMARO, we see part of Ginny's awesome ward. Doors are opened and Tom is out, but he isn't everything we thought he would be. Could it be that he's keeping secrets from us? Puppy Puffs and the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw Quiddich game offer a little comic relief.
Be warned, the upcoming chapters are the reason this fic is rated PG-13.
Mors Mordre
Chapter 44
(disclaimer: The poem in this chapter, BLACK CHANT was written by, Skull Bearer, another fanfic writer. Her profile is below.
After the ff.net thing/ profile.php?userid=323240)
(Sorry if that's confusing, but if you ever tried to put up a link, you know that ff.net won't let you)
And now, on to the story….if you dare…
After Ginny's long talk with Tom last night, she awoke strangely rested. It was as if she finally understood what had happened to her in the Chamber. The missing pieces were falling into place. It was a little later than she usually slept, and she knew she should get up and get ready for class, but she hesitated, rubbing her eyes and looking around. Parvati and Lavender were already gone—or perhaps they had never come in at all last night. Ginny didn't know. She lay in bed for a moment, listening to Hermione and Samara speaking in low tones as they got ready for class. Her ward still shielded her from their eyes and hearing.
"Very Slytherin of you, eves-dropping, Ginny Love."
Normally, I wouldn't eves-drop, Tom, but they're talking about me, Ginny answered. "Be quiet.."
==
"I don't know, Samara," said Hermione, brushing her now shoulder length hair.. "I've read about auras but I've never seen them myself. I'm not sure I know what is normal and what isn't—"
"I've never seen an aura look like that. Even after she woke from the sleeping ward, last Friday, her aura looked strange. It has too many colors."
"Is that a problem?" asked Hermione. "I mean, I thought you said wizards always had more colors than muggles."
"They do," said Samara. "But usually the colors are complementary. Ginny's colors clash—And now they aren't even in layers, they're mixed together like a marble cake."
Tom was over-come with laughter. "A marble cake—"
Hush, Ginny admonished. "I want to hear what Samara says about my aura."
"It makes me shudder to look at it, Samara continued. "And I wish she wouldn't lock herself away , by herself, in that ward of hers."
Ginny Love, you'll have to tell them that you're not alone in here.
"Be quiet, Tom.
"Edward said it took four of them to break the ward in Slytherin."
"What were you doing in Slytherin?" Tom asked angrily.
"I told you. That's where I put up the wandless ward—last night."
"You did not tell me you were in Slytherin. I forbid you—us. We can't go there. It's dangerous."
"Shut up, Tom. I want to hear what Samara is saying."
"Is she the one that's still talking. She's quite the little blabber mouth, isn't she?"
"It takes one to know one," said Ginny exasperated, and for a moment, Tom was silent.
"And don't you think that's strange, Hermione? I mean, what does she have to be afraid of—Why would she feel like she needed a ward?"
"I don't know," said Hermione, "But it's really up to Ginny. You can't go about putting her to sleep and hoping that the aura will fix itself. I think we just have to go to Madam Pomfrey. She has to know about these things. Madam Pomfrey is really good at fixing—obscure problems."
"Like polyjuice mistakes?" laughed Samara.
"Poly juice!" shouted Tom. "That's illegal. And for good reason. What are you kids doing playing with that? Ginny!"
"It was for class," said Ginny. "and it's not illegal anymore."
"A class? You're joking."
"There has to be some way to do a mutus charm on you," Ginny muttered. "I can't take this constant commentary."
"I doubt mutus would work," said Tom. "Mutus alters sound waves and since I'm in your head—"
"Don't remind me!" Ginny screamed at him.
"Well, good thing that privacy ward was up, wasn't it," said Tom softly. "Little touchy first thing in the morning aren't you?"
Ginny studiously ignored him.
"Who told you about the polyjuice potion?" Hermione asked Samara, letting Crookshanks into the room from his morning romp. He jumped up on the dressing table and rubbed himself against Hermione.
"Ginny told me." Samara laughed. "She realized it when she first found out that Millie is an animagus. She said 'I knew Hermione couldn't be that dumb—mistaking a cat hair for a human hair.' Anyone who owns a cat should be able to tell the difference, right?"
"And if Millie had been registered, I would have known," snapped Hermione. Are you going up to feed your owl, Samara?"
"Millicent is in Slytherin, isn't she?"
"Yeah. How'd you know?" asked Ginny.
"Slytherins never register their animagi. It's a matter of principle."
"Well, speaking of illegal--" said Ginny.
She felt Tom mentally shrug and pull away from her.
Good. Maybe you'll be quiet, Ginny thought.
"No, I don't have to go to the owlry," said Samara. "I sent my Grandma Lori a letter. Aggie isn't back yet. Let's go to Madam Pomfrey before breakfast."
==
"Are you going to Madame Pomfrey about me?" asked Ginny sitting up in bed and pushing the ward off. "You know. You really shouldn't talk about someone in their own room unless you want them to hear you."
"We thought you were asleep," said Samara.
"Obviously," said Ginny dryly. "I don't need Madam Pomfrey and I didn't need the Slytherins busting down my ward. It just exhausted me and gave me a headache. Samara you should know. How were the auras after the Quit game?"
"Washed out," replied Samara. 'But none of them gained extra colors."
Ginny pasted a smile on her lips. "I guess, I'm special," she said sarcastically. "I don't have time for Madam Pomfrey. We have a Charms test today, and Friday is always a little rough with ADADA and DADA. Don't worry about me. OK, Samara. I get enough of that from my brothers."
"We are worried about you," said Hermione. "We'll wait for you. Come have breakfast with us."
"No," said Ginny. "I'm not going to have time for breakfast before class. I want to take a shower. Please leave Madam Pomfrey out of this. There is nothing wrong with me, that I can't handle. I'm fine. Honest."
Samara nodded. Her eyes taking in the changes in Ginny's aura since last night. "We're going down to breakfast, then. See you in Herbology."
"Next time," said Hermione, "Set your ward to fall down in the morning, if you feel you need it at all with your friends—"Hermione called as Ginny rushed into the shower. "And we'll wake you if you sleep in. Maybe you can find out what on earth they were doing in Slytherin," Hermione suggested to Samara.
"No," said Samara softly. "I'm not feeling exactly welcome there now."
"I wondered why you haven't been over there with Edward and Ginny, lately." Hermione frowned. "So you've severed your ties with--Slytherin?"
"You might say that," said Samara, wondering if Hermione meant to ask if she had severed her ties with Draco.
Hermione smiled at Samara, her aura an open and welcoming azure. Then, she reached out and hugged her. "Well," she said. "I can't say I'm sorry to hear that." Her aura, if anything became even brighter with excitement, and then flushed with rose. "Let's go see if the boys are still at breakfast."
"Hermione," said Samara. "Please don't try to—um—fix me up with Harry, just because it would make things more comfortable for you and Ron."
"Ok," said Hermione, her aura losing some of its brightness.
"I like Harry, but—"
"I said OK."
Samara nodded and they went down to breakfast.
==
Ginny rushed through her shower, did a quick drying spell on her hair and gathered up her books. She didn't have time to put on any of the make up to cover her freckles, so she just dropped the potion in her bag. She looked around momentarily for her quill. She had several extras, but she really preferred the goose wing feather to the shoulder feather. When did she have it last?
"Common room," said Tom, a feeling of disgust in his thought. "Right before you turned into the dog."
Right, she thought, hurrying down to look for it.
"Well, don't bother to say thank you."
"Thank you, Tom. Now, please shut up."
"You know, Ginny Love. I've been quiet for an awfully long time in that diary and then I had to contend with Salazar—"
"And now, you have to contend with me," spat Ginny, "Shut up. You're driving me crazy."
"Gee, Ginny, and just when I thought crazy was already a given."
Ginny silently seethed.
When she arrived in the Common room, it was deserted. Everyone had already gone to class. Quickly she pulled the cushions off of her favorite chair, and found her quill. She dropped it into her bag and started to put the cushions back, when she noticed a burnt and crumpled piece of parchment sticking between the arm and the seat. Immediately, she remembered Edward sitting in this chair, incendioing the parchments when she had turned into the puppy. This was the one he lost, when she jumped up on his lap. She pulled it out of the crack of the chair and looked at it.
"Gee Ginny, first eves-dropping and now looking at someone's private papers. I certainly have been a bad influence on you haven't I?"
"It's not private. It was on the chair in the common room. Anyway, it's Edward's—"
The words on the paper were scribbled over and crossed out several times, but she didn't have any trouble understanding what she was reading. It was a poem.
Edward Lestrange, writing poety? Said Tom, askance. "This ought to be good for a laugh—"
And then, Ginny and Tom began to read, (A/N: Black Chant is authored by Skull Bearer)
The Black Chant:*
Rip Bones
Tear Flesh
Boil Blood
Eat Death
Wear a robe made of Darkness
Wear a mask made of Bone
Bear a mark of Torture
Hold a heart made of Stone
Kill faster
Heart harder
Thought keener
Soul colder
Conquer the king of Lions.
Follow the Master of Snakes.
Lack life, love and liberty.
Play for the highest stakes.
Auror Murderer
Muggle Killer
Light Slayer
Death Eater
For a moment, Ginny just stood in the Common room holding the parchment. Tom said nothing, but Ginny sensed the same sort of turmoil that was going on in her own mind.
Speechless Tom? She inquired.
"I think so," he answered.
"Well, that's a good thing."
Tom was silent, but Ginny sensed a myriad of thoughts all flashing through his mind too fast for her to comprehend.
"I take that back," she said. "There is nothing good about that poem. What should she say to Edward?" Ginny wondered.
"Incendio it," suggested Tom. "Say nothing."
Ginny glanced at her watch and sprinted from the common room, robes flying out behind her.
Ginny arrived in ADADA just seconds before she could be considered late, the parchment still clutched in her hand. She tossed the burnt paper to Edward as she took her seat next to him. "I'm going with you," she said.
"You're what!" Tom shouted. "NO. NO. NO. You are not! There is no point in getting us killed."
Ethan sent a puzzled look toward his brother who had an ear to ear smirk. "What?" he mouthed silently.
Edward surreptitiously passed him the burnt parchment, magic crackling between them in excitement.
==
ADADA Professor Snape Friday, October 13, 1995 Ginny wrote on her parchment. Professor Snape was telling them the guidelines of the wandless Search and Curse that they would be doing today.
"Ginny, listen to me. You can't do this."
"Miss Weasley," said Snape. "You may use your wand."
"That won't be necessary," said Ginny, pulling out her wand and lying it on her table.
Snape raised an eyebrow at her, but made no comment. He continued talking about what spells he allowed them to use during the Search and Curse game.
"Don't you dare leave your wand here," Tom shouted in her head.
"I won't, Ginny answered. "Now, please be quiet."
"What purpose is there in your going with Edward?" Tom demanded. "What do you plan to do?"
"I'm not sure--" thought Ginny, her eyes fixed on the back of Gregory Goyle's head. "I'm not sure, but it will come to me.
"Gryffindors!" spat Tom. "Act first. Think later—if ever--"
Ginny was suddenly assaulted by a flickering of magic through her. All of the hair on her arms stood up beneath her robe.
"No, Tom," she thought. "You still don't have control over my body."
"Fuck!" There was a brief pause and then Tom muttered, "Sorry."
Ginny frowned. "Sorry for trying to take over my body?" she wondered.
"No. Um. Language."
Ginny burst out laughing. Sometimes she completely forgot that Tom was from her grandfather's generation. "You're not sorry for trying to take me over, but you're sorry for—"
"Miss Weasley!" Snape addressed her angrily. "10 points from Gryffindor for your outburst, and pay attention."
"Yes, Sir," she said meekly, still stifling a laugh.
"You got me in trouble, Tom."
"You have no idea of the trouble you are going to be in girl! You can't go to Salazar, now. You aren't prepared. And that's where you're going. Don't kid yourself that you are going to Tom Riddle. We don't even know if my consciousness is still—present—And Ginny, if he realizes that I'm still with you—as the memory. He'll kill you—slowly--just to get to me. You have no idea how frustrated he was that he couldn't kill me without damaging himself."
"I can imagine," said Ginny, still watching the back of Greg Goyle's head and trying to pay attention to the directions Snape was giving.
"NO YOU CAN'T IMAGINE--That's why I doubt that who I once was, even exists anymore, Ginny."
"Be quiet, Tom. I can't take notes with your talking."
"You should have brought your Quick Quotes Quill for notes," said Tom snidely. "We have to talk."
"It wasn't mine. It belongs to Neville."
"Have you ever tried to lie under veritaserium?" Tom asked.
"What's veritaserium?" Ginny asked.
Tom groaned.
"Honestly, Tom, you act as if I'm going to take the Dark Mark or something. I just want to talk to him I want—"
"He did it?" muttered Tom. "He perfected it? Oh, this is worse than I thought. OK listen to me, Ginny Love. Listen carefully. First of all, veritaserium will make you want to spill every secret you've ever had. It will embarrass you no end, and that's the good news. The bad news is, if you even try to lie, your mouth will feel as if it's on fire. If you have enough veritaserium in your system, some people have said they've seen liars spouting flame like a dragon."
Ginny giggled again, thinking of dragon breath mints.
"This—is—not—funny," spat Tom. "The best you will be able to do is half truths—Even that will be painful."
"I don't see why I'll have to lie," said Ginny.
"You can't tell him about me!" shouted Tom.
Just then, Greg Goyle jumped. The backs of his shoulders hunched in pain and he grabbed his left arm.
Ginny stood, with her wand in hand, and when Snape turned on her, she was ready for him, blocking with "Testudo!"
"I'm going with you," she said softly, and trying to control her nervousness, she held the wand pointed at Snape.
There was a collective gasp from some of the Slytherins. Edward stood and put his arm around her, but Snape hadn't moved. He stood accessing her with his usual bored indifference. "Congratulations, Miss Weasley," said Snape. "I see you've perfected the shield charm."
Still watching Snape, Ginny shrugged Edward off, and Draco sniggered. "Who'd you con into drinking the polyjuice, Lestrange. That's not Ginny Weasley."
"Maybe--maybe not," Edward shrugged. "But I think our Lord will be glad to see her—whatever we call her."
Pansy and Lauren and Blaise were watching in horror, but Ginny noticed they had not taken Alvin Nott's hand. Alvin sat, shaking at his table. His face buried in his hands. He looked like he was crying.
"He—will—kill—you." Tom was shouting. "And you may not mind that, Ginny Love--It might even appeal to your twisted Gryffindor sense of justice, but I live here too, now. And if he kills you—I think—I will probably be drawn back to him. You will die. Poof. Done. Finished. But I—I will have to spend the rest of my life—no—the rest of eternity in the mind of a madman who will live FOREVER! You won't pay for this mistake. I will!"
For the first time, Ginny felt a flicker of doubt, but she squelched it. "I have to do this, Tom," she thought. "I keep my promises."
"Very well, Miss Weasley," said Snape, in his droll, deadpan voice. "Since you have me at wandpoint, I suggest you tell me where you think we should take you."
"Your Dark Lord, Voldemort, Tom Riddle—You--Know--Who—" she said clearly. "I believe you have a way to contact him. I wish to speak with him."
Greg and Vincent laughed aloud, even though Greg was doing his laughing through gritted teeth. Draco sauntered up between them. "You know, I thought you were crazy last week, Weasel. This week. I know it." He turned, looking expectantly at Professor Snape.
Still Snape did not budge.
"The portkey is this way," said Edward.
"Mr. Lestrange," warned Snape. "This is still my class."
"True," Edward said softly, but with a grit of iron in his words. "But the Prophecy Child is mine."
"Prophecy?" thought Ginny. "Her?"
"Didn't you say, Professor, that to go to the Dark Lord or not had to rest with the individual?" asked Ethan. "Didn't you say, every one must make their own decision? As I see it, Virginia Weasley made her choice, Professor."
"And it is our choice," Edward continued, "As loyal Death Eaters, to escort her. Immediately." Edward did not wait for Snape to answer. He turned, keeping a cautious eye on Snape, and started for the door. He was holding Ginny Weasley by the arm, and steering her forward.
With a quick glance back at Pansy, Lauren, and Blaise, Snape said, "Let's go," and with two long strides he was in front of Edward and Ginny. The class followed in muffled silence out of the door and onto the grounds.
==
"Ginny! Ginny Love! Listen carefully. This is what you will say, when he asks about me. You will say, Tom begged me to save him, but I told him to 'get out'. That's what you need to tell him. And then you have to tell him you haven't heard from me since. Do you understand? You do not know where I am. Ginny? Ginny Love, do you understand."
"Yes, but—"
"There's no other way, Ginny. And don't let him put that accused Mark on you. He'll want your consent. Consensual magic is always stronger. Remember. No matter what it takes--"
"OK, but Tom—"
"Ginny. It's the only way. Please. Listen to me. I need to hide in your deepest, most secret memories. Do not tell him of me. Don't even think of me. I don't know if we have a prayer in hell of this working--I'm not even sure—perhaps being in such close proximity—NO I won't even think of that!"
"What?" asked Ginny.
"I may be drawn back to him no matter what you do." Tom continued to explain why he thought this may happen and options on how to prevent it.
"This is the portkey," said Edward, pointing to a large bird's nest sitting in the branches of an oak tree.
Snape's dark eyes were murderous. "Mr. Lestrange, you need to think long and hard about the risks involved in competing for the place at the Dark Lord's right hand. You are a child, but if you place yourself in a man's game, you will not be granted clemency for your childish mistakes."
"I never asked for anything different," said Edward.
"Then perhaps you should know your competition. When you were still in your nappies—no, before you were even born, no less than 20 wizards at any one time were competing for the spot you now covet."
"And were you one of the twenty?"
"No," said Snape. "I never asked for the honor. He--called--me." Snape turned abruptly away. "Once the portkey is accioed, Miss Weasley, we have 10 seconds to touch it." Snape looked around at the group which may now have trouble gathering around a single bird's nest. "If we don't all get a hold of it, don't panic. I'll send someone back with it. Are you ready Miss Weasley?
I am a Memory, Ginny. He is the Real Person, but if I am drawn back—everything you know. Everything I've learned since your first year about you and your friends, he will know. Everything that Harry has learned about the Prophecy child, everything you've done in the Chamber—"
Ginny sucked in her breath.
I want you to remember our time in the Chamber, when you saved me. He has to think that I was destroyed. You have to make him believe you, even if he uses veritaserium. Tom continued explaining: "I'm asking you now, to save me—And you say—"
"I'll do my best—"Thought Ginny.
"Miss Weasley?" asked Snape again.
"Yes," Ginny answered Snape, her head spinning with the effort of listening to both Tom and Snape at the same time.
"NO. NO. NO. You say, Get out, and then you never hear from me again. Say it. Say, Get out."
"But, Tom, I don't know—"
"Say, GET OUT!"
"Get out, but I don't know if I can do this alone, Tom. Your magic is stronger. Tom?"
"Accio,"said Snape, and the nest flew from its branch to Snape's hand. Snape made sure that Ginny, and Alvin got their hands on the portkey. Edward, Ethan and Draco crowded around and someone else, but Ginny wasn't sure whose hand was whose when the familiar tug gripped beneath her navel and she was transported forward.
Snape immediately took the portkey and muttered an incantation. "We're missing Vincent and Millicent," said Snape, handing the portkey back to Draco. "Get them. You'll have twenty seconds." Draco and the bird's nest dissolved from sight.
==
The place where Ginny was portkeyed to was beautiful—a garden with running streams and fountains, yet there was a sense of darkness. Although she was not as attuned to the magic as Samara was, she realized that much dark magic had been performed here. Trees surrounded the clearing—ash and yew and a few oak trees. This place would have been a prolific site to choose a wand.
"Tom?" whispered Ginny, and Snape frowned at her, his beady black eyes intense.
"Come," said Snape taking her arm.
Edward flanked the other side.
Ginny felt a flutter of panic. Had Tom deserted her or was he only hiding? Even though she hadn't been able to talk to him until just recently, some part of her always knew the diary had changed her. Some part of her knew he was there. She became accustomed to that feeling, and suddenly, it was gone. She felt an emptiness--alone. Tom?
The rest of the ADADA class crowded forward around her. Voldemort-- Salazar and what was left of Tom Riddle, stood conversing easily with three other wizards, dressed in Death Eater robes and masks. Tom didn't wear a mask because it was obvious with one glance that he had little humanity left in him. His skin was somewhat scaly, like a snake's. Although he was old enough to be her grandfather, Ginny did not see his age; she saw only power. It emanated out from his eyes—eyes that were red, and filled with malice. It dripped from his long fingertips—with sudden fear, Ginny remembered the feel of those long fingertips on her body in the Chamber of Secrets. With a shiver, she remembered Tom's graphic description of how brutally Salazar took possession of him. Only his hair was the same jet black as she remembered, but it was not the neatly combed hair of Tom Riddle. It was instead, unruly, reminding her strangely of Harry Potter's.
In a gesture also reminiscent of Harry he brushed his hair off of his forehead, but there was no scar. "Who is this?" He asked as they approached.
"Virginia Weasley." Said Snape, bowing low. All of the others in the class had prostrated themselves on the ground. One by one, they came and kissed the bottom of his robes. Only Ginny remained standing, staring at the man who had once been Tom Riddle. Evil hovered over him and around him. Ginny could never remember being more terrified, even in the Chamber. She knew she had made a mistake. She could not touch this person. This person was no longer Tom Riddle. She could not have any feelings of humanity left for him, could she? Did Tom even still exist inside of him? Nothing but fear filled her.
"Why did you bring her?" The question was addressed to Snape, but Ginny answered. "I needed to see you, Tom. To see for myself what you had become." She lifted her chin a little, struggling against her fear.
"I am Lord Voldemort!" He pushed her abruptly into the dirt, barely using the magic in his hands. "Exanimare." She fell hard—her face landing in the dirt, her knees and hands skinned, like a child's. "I will be addressed, as Lord Voldmort, or Master," he hissed.
"You will always be Tom to me," she whispered, not daring to pick her face out of the dirt.
Ginny could feel his eyes on her, hot and questioning. "Why did you bring her?" Lord Voldemort asked again, this time fixing Snape with a glare, and Ginny realized that she couldn't speak. She could barely breathe. It took every ounce of her strength to pull just a tiny bit of air into her lungs. Tiny little pants, she told herself. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Voldemort's huge snake crawled close to her, circling. "Sisshasss-A-Sisshasss, isss thisss one Hisssuss? Isss sshe for me?"
"Sssilence, Nagini. We sshall sssee."
"She knows things, Master, about you that I thought you should hear for yourself," said Snape.
"Not so," interrupted Edward. "She is the Prophecy child. If she herself, hadn't insisted at wandpoint that she be brought, you would have left her at Hogwarts. You certainly didn't listen to me when I suggested that she be brought earlier this year. You didn't even listen to Draco."
"Severus?" Lord Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Is this true?"
"Yes, Master," his voice cool and unhurried. "I sought to discern her full use, before I infringed upon your time. Children tend to be hasty. They make foolish mistakes, through their ignorance. Thankfully, among Slytherins that's usually corrected as they age."
"I see." Voldemort studied the girl. She seemed to still be breathing. She was a strong one. Some would have suffocated by now, from the curse he threw so carelessly at her, but she was fighting it. Perhaps she would be amusing. He doubted that she would be of much use. Severus usually knew what pleased him, even though Severus himself was not fully trustworthy. Severus, unlike most of his Death Eaters did not grovel around him, with false humility, not did he seem to participate in the continual struggle to be his chosen. Severus Snape was somewhat of an enigma. Severus had always been secretive, one of the few that Voldemort could not easily discern, but Severus knew he sought the Prophecy Child. If he thought this girl was the Prophecy child, he would not deny this Master this prize. Of that, Voldemort was certain.
He remembered a conversation they had had nearly sixteen years ago in The Riddle House. "I have a task for you," he had told Severus.
"Anything, my lord," Severus said looking up from his position, kneeling at his feet.
"I want you to get close to Dumbledore," he said.
Voldemort allowed himself a mental sigh. None of his Death Eaters were truly trustworthy. Sometimes he got very sick of the constant infighting.
"You can't get away from it, can you Salazar? Even in your own head—opps, I meant my head—sometimes I forget."
Immediately Voldemort closed his hands over Tom Riddle's wand in his pocket. He ignored the searing pain in the palm of his hand. He ignored the smell of burning flesh. The physical pain was nothing compared to what Tom was feeling. And the voice was silent, for now.
A wand was a strange thing, its purpose to control and focus magic and to draw a barrier between its wizard and any damaging magic that the wizard was wielding. In Tom's case, of course, his wand did nothing to control the magic he was wielding, because Voldemort was careful that Tom never touched the wand. Instead it simply built a barrier between the two wizards who shared the wand. Voldemort's body was damaged, but Tom's soul was imprisoned, and the voice was silent. Yes, perhaps at this moment Tom was suffering too, because Tom was never silent. It was an acceptable trade: pain for imprisonment.
Voldemort took his hand out of his pocket and pressed his blistered palms together.
"Immediately Snape, took as step forward. "Master," he said softly. "If I may—"
Voldemort nodded.
Snape pulled a jar of salve from his robe pocket. "A new formula," he said. "I managed to get some of the Phoenix tears from Albus." Snape said, "but it's increasingly difficult now that I'm no longer teaching potions."
"The old fool does not suspect?"
"No."
"Does he know who the Prophecy Child is?"
"I don't know," said Snape.
Voldemort nodded and turned away from Snape as the marks on his hand healed.
"So, this is the one you think is the prophecy child?" Voldemort asked scathingly, his eyes on Edward, both ignoring the smell of burning flesh.
"She has some qualities," said Edward respectfully. "I could not dare to presume—" he hesitated. "I leave the actual judgement in your hands, my Lord." He whispered. "I ventured that it would be better to mistake on the side of caution."
Voldemort nodded. "Remain here," he said.
"My Lord?" said Edward nervously, but he didn't move.
With a wave of his hand, Voldemort lifted the curse from Ginny and spoke
"Tell me why you wanted to come to me," he said.
Ginny's recently closed lungs were sluggish. They barely brought air to her system. She gasped several times trying to pull the air in so that she could speak, but it hurt. Her lungs were burning, like someone who had been suffocated, and brought back from the brink of death. She could not speak.
Voldemort turned back to Edward while Ginny was struggling on the ground to draw air into her lungs.
"Air Elemental," Came a thought from somewhere far away. "Draw it to you."
Another wave of Voldemort's hand, brought the air suddenly into Ginny's lungs with a sharp fiery pain. She cried out, and started to cough. In a moment, she was able to speak. Her chest ached with the exertion, as if she had pneumonia or bronchitis, but she could speak. "I—know--you," she whispered, she did not dare to call him Tom, and would not call him Voldemort. I know--every one of your--secrets."
"I do not believe you," he said his eyes narrowing. "What could a Weasley and a Gryffindor possibly know about me? Or are you a Gryffindor," he mused, thinking about the prophecy. "Tell me girl, what did the Sorting Hat say to you?"
He snapped his fingers in Snape's direction. "Veritaserium," he said, and Snape moved forward, producing a small vial.
"I don't lie," said the girl, meeting his eyes, unlike most of his Death Eaters. "I have never lied to you—" she caught herself just before she said Tom's name.
'Very well. We shall see," said the wizard as he sat back on one of the garden benches, and pocketed the veritaserium. "Tell me what the Sorting Hat said to you--and your thoughts on that day," he said.
With perfect clarity she remembered, and she repeated what the Hat said to her.
The Hat said: "AHH, a Weasley. I know just where—oh dear—there is something very Slytherin here. This is a very strange combination. Cunning, secretive and yet a depth of feeling I've only seen in Hufflepuffs. A capacity to love that transcends time and space. Very strange."
"Gryffindor," I whispered. "Please, please. All my brothers are in Gryffindor. I can't go into Slytherin house. Please. Gryffindors have depth of feeling too."
"Not like this," replied the Hat. "Well if not Slytherin, how about Hufflepuff?"
"No, please. I don't want to be alone. I want to be with my brothers."
"Yes. Exactly why you should be in Hufflepuff. They work well as teams, and you certainly aren't very brave if you don't even want to go into a house alone. How can I put you in Gryffindor?"
"Because of my loyalty?" I suggested.
"Hufflepuff," said the Hat.
"And I want to be brave.
The Hat was silent.
"Anyway, the Slytherin side of me would make the other Hufflepuffs miserable."
The Hat was silent.
After a long while it said, "I really think Hufflepuff—"
"I promise you," Ginny said cooly. "I will make the Hufflepuffs very miserable."
"There is that," said the Hat. "Very well, then. I don't like it, but Gryffindor."
You remember that episode exceedingly well. The Hat didn't suggest Ravenclaw?" He asked.
She shook her head. "No. I'm not that smart. Ron says that I have a good memory, but no strategy."
"Ron?"
"My brother," she explained. "And my other brothers, Percy and the twins were getting seriously worried. They said it took forever for me to be sorted."
He laughed. "And you threatened the Hat! I can't believe it."
"I hate the Hat," said Ginny vehemently. "So, believe it.
"Why do you hate the Hat?"
"Because of what it did to--you."
"Really? Would you have made the Hufflepuffs miserable?"
"I don't know. Probably not."
"A bluff worthy of a Slytherin, nonetheless, Virginia. "
"And what do you believe the Sorting Hat did to me?" he asked.
She hesitated, and he pulled the vial of veritaserium from his robe pocket toying with it.
"Possessed you, with the spirit of Salazar Slytherin," said Ginny at last.
He turned, puzzled now. Accessing her, he decided she was telling the truth. That had always been a talent of his—falsehoods—weaving them and unraveling them. "Where did you get such an idea?" he asked softly.
"From your Diary," she said.
"And you live?" he asked amazed. "You must be quite a powerful witch. How is it you were not--destroyed?"
"The Diary was destroyed instead."
"I see," he said, looking at her critically, remembering the enchantment of the diary. "Do you miss him?" he asked softly, his voice a caress.
"Yes." She tried to keep the tears from coming, but somehow they did anyway.
"Of course, you miss him," he said.
His thoughts again going to the creation of the Diary. Oh Tom, he thought, you did a marvelous job on the enchantment of the Diary. I couldn't have done better myself. Oh, well, I did do it myself, didn't I?" He chuckled.
"And that is why you came, isn't it?" He said aloud. "To find out if your Tom still lives inside of me—"
"Yes," said Ginny.
There is only one way to find out," he said. "Come to me."
She froze. "Don't you know?"
"It's hard to tell where one of us begins and the other leaves off," he said. "But I venture to guess, you would know. He held out his hand. The long white fingers, unmistakably human spread against hers. "You would recognize his magic wouldn't you?"
'Yes," she agreed.
"Then I see no other way, do you?" he asked as he interlaced his fingers with hers. "If I were to share my magic with you, you would know whether or not your precious Tom is here or not. You would recognize his magical signature, I would think."
"Yes," said Ginny. "I would."
"And I don't see any other way to find out, do you? After all, you can't go announcing to the world that your lover lives in the Dark Lord's head. Why they would put you in St. Mongo's so fast—"
Ginny stiffened, shaking with memories of St. Mongo's.
"Ah, you know, I speak the truth," he said.
"You would allow me to see?" asked Ginny softly. "You would—do--that?"
"Of course."
"You would hurt me," said Ginny skeptically.
"What purpose would that serve?"
"I don't know. I don't think it matters. You—you like—causing pain."
He shrugged. "There is a certain satisfaction in knowing that one can crush their enemies, I won't deny that, but I don't think we are enemies, Virginia. We are natural allies. Especially if you find your Tom here. I want to help you, because I think you will help my cause. You are, after all a pure-blood, and if Edward Lestrange is right, you are more than that. The choice is yours."
"Mine?"
"Absolutely. You can either search my magic to see if it contains any remnant of that which you lost, or you can turn around and go back to your classroom, at which point, Professor Snape will obliviate your memories of this time, and you will continue your studies just as you always have. You understand, why you have to be obliviated of course--
"I understand." Ginny hesitated, trying to find a loophole. "Are you saying, you would allow me to assess your magic, and see if it contains any remnants of—of—"
"Tom Riddle," Voldemort supplied.
"And you will not harm me? You would just stand there and not take any of my magic or try to possess me, or anything?"
"I'm not sure what you mean by 'or anything'," said Voldemort, "But essentially you are correct. In fact, I will allow you to have full reign of the whole process. I only ask that you conduct your search through all four aspects of the Elementals. I want it to be-- complete."
Ginny nodded slowly. "Wizard's binding magical promise?"
"No-o-o-o!" shouted Tom
"Wizard's binding magical promise," said Voldemort, pulling his wand and with the single "Sectum!" spell drawing a slash across both of their arms, his right, her left. Blood welled up and instantly mingled in the air since the spell was already begun with their intent. He closed his fingers, interlaced with hers and smiled. "Whenever you are ready, Virginia," he said, letting his forearm, sticky with blood, press against hers.
"Stupid, idiotic Gryffindors!" muttered Tom. And then as if he realized how close he was to Voldemort, he said "Quickly. Start with fire. Close with water." And sunk back to the depths of her memory.
"Fire?" thought Ginny. No. The order she was most comfortable with was Earth, Wind, Fire and Water. Cautiously she pulled from the Earth Elemental, allowing it to mix with his magic. Instantly, she sensed Tom in the dark mire of Salazar and the myriad of spells that had created the new entity, Voldemort, and just as quickly, she felt the avalanche of his Power drop on her, burying her in his Dark Power. She faltered, trying to hold onto the spell, but all of her senses failed her. She couldn't see. She couldn't breathe. Her ears filled with the pressure of the magic, popping painfully, and she tasted blood in her mouth. The horrible suffocating pain of His Dark Magic filled her and she couldn't even begin to release fast enough. She knew she was dying, buried alive in this spell. She thrust her hands out in front of her desperately trying to claw her way out. "Tom?" She screamed. "Tom!"
"Ginny Love? Damn him! And then a vast breath blew the pain away. Lightening struck, swift and sure, piercing through her like a tempering fire, switching almost instantly to a cool rain, and then was still."
Ginny found herself looking into the red eyes of the Dark Lord, "Blood and magic mingled. You are mine," he whispered, just before she melted into unconsciousness.
A moment later, a searing pain in her arm jerked her awake. "MorsMordre!"
The Dark Mark magic burned deep, from the point of entry on her arm, it blossomed out, filling her, setting her bones afire and boiling her blood. She arched away from the inhuman magic and a guttural scream was torn from her, but still it didn't end. Still his magic poured into her like liquid fire, and he allowed her no release. She felt she would explode from the pain of the foreign dark magic until at last in desperation she began to thrust her own magic from her to make room for the terrible darkness and the pain ended instantly as he sucked her magic into himself. Immediately, she was inundated with a sensation of such ecstasy it brought tears of joy to her eyes—the pain completely washed away as if it had never been.
He rubbed his thumb gently over the smoking black Mark, and it faded to raw redness to a tiny inane tattoo, that could be covered by the pad of his thumb. "Remember, it is your choice, whether this Mark brings you pain or pleasure."
Before she could answer, He had handed her to Edward and turned to the other wizards. "Narcissa!" He said in a low threatening voice. "What did you do with my Diary?"
"Master, it was not I who doubted your return," she said boldly. "My sister and I knew you would rise again. It was Lucius, during the silent times, who doubted you. He secretly gave the Diary to the girl in her first year at Hogwarts."
"Please, Master-" begain Lucius. "I thought-"
"You thought I would not return," Voldemort interrupted coldly.
"I had hoped-you would-" whispered Lucius.
"Liar! If you had such a hope you would not have given my diary to a child who could not even begin to command my magic for years to come." Voldemort's voice became deadly soft. "You should have learned by now, not to lie to me, Lucius. I am sorely disappointed."
"My Lord-"
"You should have written in the diary yourself, Lucius."
"Crucio!" The unforgivable curse was leveled with a bored indifference, and a lazy flick of his hand. He held no wand.
Ginny couldn't take her eyes off of the horror of seeing Lucius Malfoy, who she had practically thought of as indestructible, fall to the ground like a limp rag doll. She hated him and yet-and yet-"
With his hand outstretched toward Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort continued to address Narcissa. "And what happened to the Diary?'
"I don't know," said Narcissa, with nothing but a passing glance at her husband writhing on the ground, she turned back to the Dark Lord with regal composure. "It was returned to us with a hole burned through the center. It's inside the house." She gestured toward the stately expanse of the Malfoy Mansion. "Do you want me to get it and show you?"
"Yes."
"Accio The Dark Lord's Diary," she said raising her hand. In a moment the diary flew to it.
By now, Lucius was screaming.
With a look of disgust, Lord Voldemort pronounced "Mutus!" Then he told Narcissa. You and Severus may see to the teaching of the young ones. They can practice crucio on Lucius. It will be a pleasant diversion from the work with bugs. With a wave of his hand, he pushed Lucius Malfoy away from him. The curse ended as Malfoy fell heavily on the ground several feet away. He was unconscious.
Voldemort took the diary from Narcissa and examined it.
"En-ervate," said a nervous voice that Ginny recognized as Gregory Goyle's.
"Enervate!" repeated Narcissa and once again Lucius Malfoy's sobbing was heard. "Th-thank you, Ma-s-ster!" he stuttered.
Voldemort ignored him. He put his finger in the hole made by the Basillist and brought bits of ash to his nose, smelling it. Then the strangest thing happened. Out of his mouth flicked a snake's tongue, which touched the ash on Tom's finger. Ginny nearly cried out. This was not her Tom, but somewhere in that horrific body he had to exist still, didn't he?
Voldemort turned. "Severus."
"Yes, Master."
"Take care of the children. I wish to speak with Virginia."
"As you wish, Master," said Snape with a small bow.
"Oh, and don't let the Lestrange brothers kill Lucius." He paused. "Draco, should be last, I think. I want to see how he handles-his father."
Voldemort pulled the small bottle of the clear liquid from his pocket as he started to lead her to a bench in the flower garden, Ginny noticed there were absolutely no birds or butterflies or any sign of life in the garden at all, except for the flowers, in their final array of fall colors. Just as they neared the bench, Lucius cried out. Instead of muting him, as he did before, Tom began to weave a charm. It was a charm she knew—a ward. It was the same one, that Tom had taught her to give them privacy in her bedroom when she read and wrote in the diary. She caught her breath, and he smiled at her realizing that she recognized the charm as his own. It was strange, seeing a smile on his thin snake like mouth and those ferocious red eyes in the same face. He handed her the bottle of veritaserum. "Drink it all," he said watching her carefully, his red eyes bright.
"No, Ginny Love. Distract him. You have to spill at least some of it."
"I have never lied to you," she said softly as she took the bottle. She wondered how she could manage to spill some of it without his knowing. It was impossible. She put the bottle to her lips. After draining it, she repeated, "I have never lied to you-"
He nodded. "Then you are the first," he said. "Come closer."
"Come to me." Ginny was assaulted with images of the diary. The number of times that Tom had called: "Come to me." Nausea crept up her throat. She couldn't do this. She wasn't brave. She should have stayed in Gryffindor tower. She froze.
"Come to me, and kiss my robes, Virginia, like all of my loyal followers."
"I will not do that," said Ginny softly. "I have no desire to kiss your robes."
The creature smiled a strangely familiar smile on its snake face. "Ah yes, Then perhaps you would prefer to kiss my mouth." The red eyes assessed her and the tiny snake tongue darted in and out of the lipless mouth.
Ginny tasted nausea at the back of her throat. She had no desire to do that either. "Why had she come here!" She had to have been crazy-or possessed. Did he still have that much power over her—to bring her even before he branded her with his Dark Mark? She was shaking and sweating, absolutely sick with fear. And what power over her did he have now? She wondered morbidly. Now that she had a Dark Mark.
"I smell your fear," he said, flicking his tongue again. "It is a sweet perfume." Flicking his tongue again, this time touching her neck with it, he continued. "I wonder if it smelled as sweet to me when I was in the Diary. Can you tell me?" Once again, his tongue flicked against her neck. "Show me?" She dared not move. She stood frozen, like a statue, willing him to move away-shouting in her mind for him to move away-praying for him to move away.
"Later, then," said the creature, as he backed off slightly. "We have plenty of time."
"Tom! Tom! How did he do that? Can he read my mind?"
"I don't know, Ginny Love. He could always read mine, but I thought that was just because he lived inside of me."
"After all," continued Voldemort. "You are mine. Tell me how you came to have the Diary." He seated himself on the garden bench.
"It was in my Transfiguration book," said Ginny.
"How appropo," said Voldemort.
"I didn't know who put it there," said Ginny, "but I later come to believe it was Lucius Malfoy."
"So you kept it. You knew it wasn't yours. Why did you keep it?"
"You-the Tom in the diary convinced me.-You seemed so lonely. Fifty years in the diary. At first, I thought, that you were trapped there by some evil wizard-" Her voice ground to a halt.
"And then you discovered that I WAS the evil wizard." The creature-how could she call him Tom-thought this was particularly amusing. "But I was never lonely."
"Oh you were," Ginny disagreed. "In that awful orphanage. I probably would have cursed them too when they took Buzzy from you." The vision from Tom's descriptions came to her mind. She saw a tiny frightened three year old Tom, clutching Buzzy, a blue stuffed rabbit. "It was missing an eye and had most of the fur rubbed off. It had been a hand me down from another child, a muggle, who was adopted from the orphanage when Tom was three. Then, when you were older it was passed down again to William McMillian, another muggle."
"I never owned a stuffed rabbit," he said coldly. "Nice touch don't you think? It seemed to have elicited your sympathy just as planned. Let's skip ahead, shall we?"
Ginny's mind was racing. There was no stuffed rabbit! Never? She wasn't sure she believed him. Tom had been so convincing-There was a rabbit.
"There was a rabbit," said Tom.
How many people did you and Nagendra kill?" asked Voldemort.
"None," she said.
"What!"
"You wanted me to, but I-defied you-I—"
"None?" asked Voldemort again, almost uncertain whether the veritaserium was still working.
"That's correct."
"So did nothing happen to these cursed mudbloods?"
"They were petrified," replied Ginny. "And Madam Pomfrey revived them all by the end of the year-even Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris."
"Filch, the squib, takes care of Mrs. Norris now! Oh that is too precious," said the creature, breaking into a grating sound that Ginny realized was laughter, but she didn't know what was so funny, so she remained quiet.
"So Potter was petrified too I suppose?"
"No," replied Ginny.
"Perhaps I need to back track a bit. Tell me about the events leading up to the Chamber." said Voldemort.
"Well, the first thing you told me to do was to kill the roosters."
"Yes, yes," said Voldemort dismissively, standing and pacing away from her, but careful to remain in the ward's boundary. "Wormtail, has told me that you have been the caretaker of the eggs."
"You will continue to do this for me Virginia," said Voldemort raising a hand to her forehead. "Imperio! Keep my basilisks safe from harm." A soft floating feeling overtook her, and she felt that nothing would make her happier than protecting the eggs."
"I will," she said.
"Good. Now, what happened on the day Tom took you to the Chamber for the last time?"
Ginny began her story with breakfast and trying to tell her friends what had happened to her.
"Even here, you were fighting me," Voldemort said. "Just hours before the Chamber."
"Yes." Ginny agreed.
"Amazing you had such strength. Quirrel didn't have such resolve, and he was a grown wizard. Only a Hufflepuff, but still a grown wizard, and you were an eleven-year-old child at this time."
"I was twelve," said Ginny. She proceeded to tell him about their trip to the Chamber and finally losing consciousness. It seemed as if all had gone according to plan, but somehow the plan was ruined.
"Have you heard stories about what happened after you lost consciousness?" asked Voldemort.
"Yes."
"Tell me."
Harry came.
"Blast that damned bloody Potter! So your prince rescued you did he? And he killed the basillist-destroyed the diary-"
"Yes," said Ginny, "But Harry's not my prince. He doesn't-I-He was just a-crush-when I was a little girl."
"Is that so?" he asked in an oily voice that made Ginny uncomfortable. "Are you-no longer-a little girl?"
"I don't know," whispered Ginny panic rising in her.
"Now, my little Gryffindor, I need to know where your loyalties lie-with Harry Potter or with me."
"I'm not," she breathed. "You mustn't call me a Gryffindor, Tom."
He struck suddenly, like a snake, but not with magic. One massive hand closed around her throat. Even as she struggled for breath, she felt the scars and furrows in his hand. "I am Lord Voldemort," he spat.
She closed her eyes, thinking desperately, I'm a witch. I don't need to breathe air. I can fill my lungs with magic, but nothing, not even the magic seemed to be drawn into her lungs, and she felt nothing but fear. Spots began to appear in her line of vision from her lack of air. It never crossed her mind to reach for her wand.
"Some snakes," he whispered "crush their prey. If you dare breath Tom Riddle's name again in my presence, you will never breathe again. Prophecy child or not." He released her abruptly and turned immediately back to the conversation they had been having, as if he didn't notice or care about her distress.
She swallowed several times, massaging her throat.
"You said you wouldn't hurt me."
"I lied," he said.
"Just like you lied when you tried to possess me with the Diary?"
"Tried?" asked the creature, turning on her. "Why do you think you are here, child? I still have every bit of power over you that I ever had and more. I am the real person, what you had before was only a memory-a weak and now forgotten part of myself."
"You are not a person," said Ginny sadly. "I wished you were. I wanted you to be-"
"I know what you wanted, Virginia. I know because I—I and your precious Tom--magicked the diary and you wanted exactly what the diary demanded that you choose—exactly what you were enchanted to believe."
"You have no power over me."
" Don't I? Come to me."
"Why?" asked Ginny.
"Because I wish it so. Because you are mine. It was you who came to me-both times-you who opened the diary and you touched the portkey. You came to me and begged me to possess you, and now, you think you are free?" His laugh was harsh.
"Come." Said the creature again.
She followed the motion of his darting tongue with disgust, but still took a step closer.
"That's it," he encouraged. "Just like the fairy tales when the frog becomes the handsome prince-the snake becomes a more powerful wizard-with a kiss-and a bit more--"
She knew he was testing her—testing the power of the enchantment of the Diary, but the Diary was gone, and had no control over her. Still she took a step closer. She needed to touch him—to know—to feel Tom's magic inside of him--
She put her warm lips against the cold scales of his mouth. There were no lips. There was no pleasure.
"Oh well," said the creature, pushing her abruptly away. "I never believed in fairy tales anyway, but it proves that I still possess you, Virginia."
"No," she said softly. "It proves that I--love—I care about you-or who you once were"
"Goodness, what a powerful enchantment I wove to keep you believing that so long after the diary had been destroyed. Perhaps-"
There was a moment, when neither of them spoke, but Ginny saw something familiar in his face, a glint of green in his eyes, and she spoke, impassioned, on impulse "I want you back-" Ginny stopped herself from saying Tom's name just in time.
He froze and held her away from him, staring into her eyes in wonder. It was only then, that she realized she had said, the sentence, "I want you back—" in parseltongue. It seemed to have transformed. Him. He smiled, a true smile, on his snake mouth, and for just a moment he softened.
Nagini was slithering wildly about her feet. "It sssspeaks!" said Nagini. "The Hisssuss ssspeaks."
"Not hisssuss, Ssheis!" hissed Ginny, and Voldemort laughed softly.
"Perhaps an illusion," said the creature. "Just for old times sake." He pulled his wand out of his robe and ran it over himself. Slowly, the snakeskin began to change and his red eyes were a vivid bottle green. He was his sixteen year old self.
"Oh." Ginny just stared at him. He was even more handsome than she had imagined, but the image of the snake tongue darting in and out of his mouth was still with her. She tried to hold on to her disgust. She tried very hard to remember that snake's tongue. His face was inches from hers. She felt his breath on her cheek, and struggled to remember this was Voldemort, not Tom. He was old enough to be her grandfather. He was not even human. Nonetheless, she found herself breathless, anticipating his next move, such was the magic he wove.
He moved his hand up to her face, and she felt the calluses there from the magical burning every time he tried to misuse Tom Riddle's wand. Although his visage did not change, suddenly, the spell was broken for Ginny. She knew exactly who he was and who he wasn't.
"Is the veritaserium still working?" he asked.
She hesitated, uncertain of what to answer. "Yes," she said slowly.
He wrapped his arms around her, like the coils of a snake, and instead of feeling sheltered, as he intended, she felt trapped. "Do you have something that belongs to me?"
"No," she answered uncertainly. "Was he speaking of Tom?"
"Have you found the emerald that Helga hid from me?"
"No."
"Very well, then. Imperio. When you find it, you will bring it to me."
"I will bring it to you."
"I think you do remember what happened in the Chamber of Secrets, don't you, Virginia?"
"The Medi-witches and wizards at St. Mongos removed most of my memories of the time in the Chamber," She answered. "There is much I don't remember."
"But you will try to remember for me, won't you Virginia?" His voice was coaxing and soft, almost seductive.
"Yes."
"Do you remember consenting to being possessed?"
"Yes."
"When."
"Every time I brought the basilisk," Ginny answered.
"And who controlled the basilisk?"
Ginny shivered with the memory. "You did. Through me."
And afterwards, in the Chamber, when the Diary was destroyed, Tom called out to you."
"Yes." Ginny answered.
"And you let him take refuge in you."
Ginny nearly answered yes, but she remembered Tom's fear of Voldemort knowing he existed in any form in her.
"No," she said. There was no pain. Her mouth did not burst into flames. Nothing happened because of her lie.
A whoop of joy sounded within her, and she felt Tom's elation. "Kiss your Professor for me," he said. "He didn't give you veritaserium!"
Voldemort eyed her critically, and Ginny had the very definite feeling that he was trying to discern what she was thinking. "Testudo," she thought, but although the charm could block spells, she didn't think it could do anything to block telepathy.
"He called out to you--" the Creature said again. "What did he say?"
"Yes," Ginny said. "He asked me to save him."
"And did you?"
"I didn't intend--" Ginny began, but he interrupted her, grasping her shoulders and glaring at her.
"He said, 'Save me.' And--what--did--you--say?'" roared the Creature.
"Get out!"
Voldemort began to laugh as he released her. "All your work and wooing did no good at all," he muttered to himself--or perhaps to the wizard who shared his body. "You are a fool," he laughed aloud.
Dropping the guise of Tom Riddle completely now, he wrapped his arms more tightly around her, like the coils of a huge snake. "And you have not seen nor heard from him since the Chamber, correct?" He asked.
"Not since," Ginny began and then her mouth fought over saying the next words. "Not since I told him 'get out'," she said, and to her amazement, tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. Perhaps the strain was finally getting to her.
"You are lying," he said.
And Ginny felt the blood run from her face.
"I felt the magic of Tom Riddle in your spell, when you called the Elementals." Said Voldemort, his nostrils flaring. "I too, recognize his magic."
Ginny's mouth went dry, and her heart was beating in her throat so that she thought she would choke if she uttered a single word. Voldemort's red eyes were hard and staring into hers, and then they seemed to glaze over, as if he were no longer seeing her at all.
"Voldemort heard laughter in his ears. When you performed those immortality spells you should have checked to be sure they would also ward off senility," said Tom. "Of course, you never did have any Ravenclaw brains, did you, Salazar? I've bested you again. Don't you recognize the magic that has been inside of you for the past 54 years?—or inside of me—because actually this is still my body—as much as I hate to admit it."
Voldemort wrapped his hand around his wand and walled off the annoying voice in his head.
Abruptly he broke the ward, and turned from Ginny, leaving her confused and frightened.
"Return to your teacher," he said, as he walked back to the center of the Death Eaters, and commanded their attention.
Ginny stumbled to her feet and returned to Snape, her heart slowly regaining its natural rhythm. Why? She wondered. "Why had he just let her go?"
==
"Edward Lestrange," said Voldemort.
"Yes, Master."
"Give me your arm."
Edward, white-faced and tense, held both arms out to Voldemort.
"Look how well Carman has taught this one," remarked Voldemort. "Ask for one arm, and receive two." Voldemort took hold of Edward's left arm and pushed up the sleeve of his robe, revealing the Dark Mark which still showed red and angry on his skin.
Edward sucked in his breath.
Voldemort turned his wand to the earth, and commanded, "Mors Mordre! Edward Lestrange." The Earth was burnt with the Dark Mark and Edward sank to his knees with the force of the spell.
"But I'm here," he murmured through gritted teeth, as the Dark Mark on his skin burned black.
"Lord Voldemort, and only Lord Voldemort can take away your pain." Voldemort placed his hand over Edward's Dark Mark and it hissed as though fire was immersed in water. Edward closed his eyes--Relief in every line of his posture. "A little demonstration to show you that I've perfected it's calling power so that I can call you individually as I wish, gently or for those of you who defy me, with more persuasion. No longer can potions or charms dull the pain of defying me. You are different from your parents, my young Death Eaters, because you were called to me after my resurrection. Before that, I was a mere wizard, the greatest of wizards, but a mere wizard, nonetheless. All that has changed, since my resurrection I have powers unheard of in all magical history. And you, the privileged first new generation of Death Eaters will learn what it truly means to follow the King of Snakes."
"And now, young Lestrange," said Voldemort. "You know I am immortal?"
"Yes, Master," Edward whispered.
"Have you ever wondered how such an accomplishment could come to pass?"
"I—no Master. You—you are great beyond my wondering."
Volemort chuckled softly. "So, like your Mother. She is dear to me," he said as he laid the back of his hand against Edward's cheek, magic crackling, but Edward did not pull away. "Yes," murmured Voldemort. " I would enjoy feeling her magic—a complementary magic—inside of me again. I think, perhaps, you, Edward, may be given a great honor. I'm not sure. I haven't tested this part of my new powers. You would like to help me, wouldn't you?"
"Anything, Master," replied Edward.
"Good. Perhaps you will be given the chance to die for me. I'm not certain how it will work—We shall see--Unlike Lucius, you understand what an honor it is to give your power to me, do you not, Edward Lestrange?"
"Yes, Master," Edward said hesitantly.
"Give me your arm then," said Lord Voldemort.
"No," cried Ginny, but Snape's fingers closed over her arm, and held her back.
"But--But if it pleases, my Master," said Edward, "I would like to know if the girl is actually the Prophecy Child, before-before-If you would grant this-small favor-It would give me great pleasure to know that I was the one to bring her to you."
For a moment, Voldemort held his hand over Edward's Dark Mark. All the while, Edward sweating and tense, his left arm held motionless in Voldemort's hand. Nothing seemed to be happening. "Very well," said Voldemort. "As thanks to your mother and father who are still in Askaban, I will still my hand. Perhaps they would like to see what a fine Slytherin you have turned out to be. Too long have my faithful ones waited," he muttered, as he brushed his knuckles against Edward's cheek. "Far too long, and you, young Lestrange. You, who hold nothing back from me, you will be rewarded with my faithful ones."
"Severus! Which of these are going with us to Drumstrang? Have you decided?"
"I have, Master," breathed Snape, producing a parchment from his robes, but Voldemort waved it away.
"Bring it tonight," he said to Severus.
"Yes, Master, I—will it be soon?"
Voldemort fixed Snape with his cold stare. "I shall not tell you the date, nor the hour," he said. 'We wouldn't want that old bird, Dumbledore to wheedle that information out of you, would we?"
"No. Of course not. You are wise, Master."
"I will call you earlier than the others tonight, Severus. We have things to--discuss—you and I."
"I am—looking forward to it, Master," said Snape with a low bow.
"We shall see," said Voldemort as he laid his hand on Draco's shoulder. "You do not shirk from performing crucio on your own father?" he said.
When Draco glanced up at the Dark Lord, his gray eyes were intense. "I only wish that I could also practice on my mother, if you would permit it," he said softly.
The Dark Lord smiled, looking at Narcissa who was busy with young Nott, at the other end of the garden. "Perhaps," he whispered to Draco. "We shall see." He raised his voice to call across the expanse of gardens. "Bring young Nott to me, Narcissa."
Shivering with fear the boy was brought before the Dark Lord.
"See that you don't become a disappointment to me," he said, putting a long finger under the boy's chin. "I hope you have more strength than your father."
Struggling to stand tall, Alvin Nott said, "We do not have to be like our fathers."
"No," said Voldemort. "We don't. We certainly don't."
==
Quick. Review.
Notes to my faithful reviewers—You shall be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams.
Jager
Glad you like the Tom/Ginny stuff. More to come.
Kemenran
Well, now you know what happens to Ginny. Still want 'more please?"
ennui2
WOO_HO! Yes. I've read "My Eternal Curse" I agree it is one of the best Ginny/Tom stories. ID is 817783. Go read it. Right after you review. About all the Vol/Tom/Sal/ Gin stuff—RIGHT. Your comments about Edward helped me to revise this chapter and make it clear that Edward has his own agenda and he doesn't care if it includes Snape.
Fan of Herbert! OH Wow! That's better than JK! Jumps up and down! Sparks! Whoosh! OK, gotta go release this magic somewhere-- Yeah, I'm really 14. The veritaserium is working.
Jager
Still think Chapter 45 is the best chapter yet?
Silverfox1
That's Gryffindors. Who cares. It's just a Slytherin.
Reiven
I like Spike too. Ready for the next chapter?
hesed
Oh yeah. Tom is Good. He's very—good—heheheh. I'm a Tom/Ginny fan too, but I refuse to turn Slytherins into Hufflepuffs so if you're looking for "sweet" good, you won't find it here.
Raven173
Psychologist? LOL Must be because of all the Ginny/Tom stuff. "OK, Ginny Love, tell me about the voices in your head" Hehehehe. Of course Tom is up to something. He's a Slytherin for gosh sakes. About Microsoft word. I write everything in Microsoft word, then I click, file, then click "save as" and save as HTML. Keep the Word doc, because after you save, if you try to edit, mine messes up the spacing. I don't know why, but I just will put it back in Word if I need to change anything. My AIM is carmandoogle if you want to IM me and we can work on it together. (ladylestrange was taken! Can you believe that?)
Reiven
Yeah, I'm really 14. I've had English teachers accuse me of cheating too, but I'm homeschooled now. I can't spell worth crap though and would die without my spell check. And I'll write English papers in trade for your doing my algebra—Anyone??? Thanks for the info on the fan fic sites. I might put my stuff on efanfiction.net too just so when ff.net is down, my readers have somewhere to go to see my stuff.
Eizoku
No I promise, once again, that I won't turn Tom into an innocent. He's a typical Slytherin, but without Salazar, I doubt that he would have gone as far as Voldemort did.
The Elemental Sorceress.
Thanks. Do you think Tom wants his body back? Yuck. It's OK to be confused. Soon, all will be clear as mudblood. Heheheh.
trillium
OK so now you have twice as many questions. Guess you have to keep reading, right? And send me an email and I'll get that pic of Ginny under an invisibility cloak right out to you. Happy Birthday. Glad you decided to spend your birthday with me. I feel special. Ready? OK make a wish and ON COME THE CANDLES. (;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;) In case you are wondering, that's your birthday cake with 21 candles—no present, just cake. Yes, Samara is rather impulsive, isn't she?
But maybe not as impulsive as Ginny—stupid Gryffindors—Opps. If I offended any of you Gryffindors out there—hey, oh well, you expect that of Slytherins, don't you?
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You know what you have to do. Click that review button. 10 REVIEWS TO THE NEXT CHAPTER—unless you aren't quite ready to return to the Chamber ????? to find out what happened to Draco's sister???? To travel with Ginny and Tom to their darkest memories??? Oh yeah, and there's the Gryffindors trying to help too…
Warning: PG 13 . Not for the faint of heart. 10 REVIEWS IF YOU DARE. Heheheheheh—Cough—Choke—Sparks--
Lady Lestrange
So why are you still reading this? You're supposed to be writing your REVIEW. Now, copy the address of this story and send it to everyone in your email box. If you do, You shall be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams If you don't, well, Crucio!
Lady Lestrange
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(A/N: The poem, BLACK CHANT was written by, Skull Bearer
After the ff.net thing, profile.php?userid=323240
(Sorry, but if you ever tried to put up a link, you know that ff.net won't let you)
If you like dark and scary, read Skull bearer's stuff. Short and straight to the heart. I'm sure Edward could have written his poem himself, but I loved this description of Death Eaters and wanted
To share it with you. So, as soon as you review, go read Skull bearer.)