Title: The Myth of Innocence
Author: Catalina Royce
Disclaimer: These stories are based on characters and situations created
and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books,
Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made
and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Rating: R
"Blaise Zabini. Class dismissed." The rattle and clutter as students left was offset by Snape's silence. Virginia stared at him fearlessly as a thoughtful hand came up to his chin. "That was quite an interesting discovery, Virginia. What made you think of it?"
Some people were afraid of Snape, with his fearsome ways and horrid temper. Fortunately, Virginia wasn't one of them – seeing instead Snape as a young man who'd been through a lot, and who had a brilliant reputation as a potions master.
"Over the summer, I studied Kianar Romatur's 'Theories of Magical Potency'. Her thesis was quite intriguing, but it had two rather gargantuan flaws. There was no bezoars, or snake fangs. It was so simple that I honestly find it hard to believe no one has made the potion before." She waited for his remarks. It wasn't long coming.
"Actually, Virginia, there is a reason for that. Snake fangs and horn of bicorn together create a slow acting toxin that bezoars doesn't affect."
"However, the aconite invalidates that, doesn't it?"
Snape stared at her in dawning wonder. "You are quite correct, Virginia. Why, this discovery could…"
"Give us a new invisibility potion?" She asked dryly, knowing giving out extravagant praise would make him feel vulnerable, and that it would disrupt the camaraderie between the two. Ginny stared in wonder at this new side of Virginia, unsure as to how to react.
"Yes. Quite. One question though. Why add the essence of Belladonna? It isn't needed in the infusion at all, and serves no real purpose."
"It looks harmless, and yet is one of the most powerful of poisons. It's my favorite." With that, she left. Snape stared after her with shock, as she seemed to be taking steps for two people – as if her legs weren't co-operating.
Sighing, Ginny closed her Arithmancy textbook, "The Guide to Arithmancy," and hunched over in her armchair, rubbing her tired eyes. She was the only person left in the common room, and for once, glad to be alone.
The room was warm, made so by the crackling fire in the hearth. Ginny rubbed her legs. They were curled under her, and were beginning to cramp. Maybe I'm getting old.
To get old you need to be intelligent, and less naïve.
I'm not going to fight with you tonight, Virginia. I'm too tired.
Damn. I'm feeling energized. Want to go for a walk?
I'd prefer not.
Virginia left, huffing to herself. It seemed that – for a while at least – the co-operation idea was gone. Ginny wondered what would happen if she killed herself. She couldn't in all conscience do that – this body didn't just belong to her, after all, but sometimes this feeling of being alone was too much for her.
Almost sad, considering she had two people in her head.
Ginny started as she heard voices, real ones, and was about to show herself when her name was spoken. "…Ginny can't be in our Potions class." Ronald Weasley whined. His distorted face could be seen from the metal grate in front of the fire. He had all the Weasley traits, most of which Virginia had missed out on, or had grown out of. Shocking red hair, freckles, and a lanky body. Because she was female, she'd missed out on the gangly lines, instead holding remarkable curves that would stop traffic...not that anyone would ever see them. The red hair had gotten darker as she was older, and was now a deep mahogany. The freckles had faded for some reason, and her complexion was pale, almost ethereally so.
"Did you see her?" Hermione put in her two cents. "Honestly, she's a bitch! I thought for sure Snape'd give her a detention. And yet, he didn't!"
"Come off it Hermione. You're just jealous because she's smarter than you."
"She isn't! It's just potions. She must be sleeping with Snape. It's the only reason he'd let her off. Oh, here it is." There was a scrunching of parchment, and the three retreated. It didn't occur to Ginny to question why they were down at the same time, how it could possibly have happened unless Hermione was sleeping in the same room. She was too distraught.
The disappointment didn't go away through the long night. It didn't go away as she automatically went through classes, it didn't go away the night after that, nor did it leave her in the night that followed. It was Virginia who realized with a start that she hadn't slept for three days. When she did come to her senses, Virginia made her way down to her safe haven. The Chamber of Secrets.
Myrtle, who'd been lounging in the last toilet stall, sat upright, and then leaned back again. "Oh, its you. Are you going back to the Chamber, then?"
Virginia didn't hear her, concentrating on the Chamber entrance. The Parseltongue was foreign to her, something learnt, and its complex twists of the tongue often stumping her, until a nice snake came along and explained slowly. "Open," came the hiss at last. The sink sank into the ground, after glowing a brilliant white light. Virginia levered herself into the whole.
The tunnel was slimy, dark and long, but she didn't mind. It twisted and turned on a now familiar path, until Virginia was shot out of the end, like Victor Krum on the Firebolt.
Standing, Virginia picked her way to the Chamber, a rather hard task considering that sleep deprivation was making her eyes close and blur quite regularly. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, the redhead collapsed by the feet of Salazar Slytherin. . .and Ginny slipped into place.
'I give up, Virginia. You win. I'll lie passive. You know how this works. I only come back if you want me to. Or if something happens. I promise.' Whisper soft, childlike and innocent, the poor voice was dead with sorrow. She wasn't wanted. She was dead weight. And, oh, how it hurt.
With that statement, Ginny lay down in her mind, and curled up and slept – hoping never to be awoken again. Virginia looked on in pity, before mentally stroking the child with sympathy. She whispered her glee, repressing the emotion that told her it was bad to be happy when her other half was that upset. 'Yes!'