Chapter Ten

Little Voice

Ginny stood in front of the stone gargoyle, suddenly stilled by apprehension and dread. What was I thinking? She thought angrily to herself I come here all guns blazing and for what? So I can lurk around in the sodding corridor. What am I even going to say? He's supposed to be my headmaster; I can't just demand to know what happened to my dad? I can't just latch on to him and invade his mind…

She let out a frustrated groan and leaned against the wall, the rough stones digging in her back. Her hair was tangled and wild as a result of her brisk run towards the castle. Her thin cheeks still red from the fierce autumn wind which had whipped against her.

The gentle words of Fainne had hit a hidden cord within her, reigniting the unwelcome but insistent need for information. Information; the word sounded so cold, so clinical. Ginny felt a harsh bark of laughter shoot out of her closed lips. Less than three months ago and that's all it boils down to…information. Every day she seemed to lose a fragment of memory, every day seemed to steal a loving look, a gentle laugh or even a parental rant. Week after week he was fading away and Ginny was powerless to stop it.

At times he was clear in her mind; she could see the thinning red hair as bright as her own, the crooked smile which had been so frequently shared and of course those kind blue eyes. Ginny thought back to when she was younger and how she would stare and scrutinize the wrinkles that fanned behind her father's glasses, she would look at his balding head and carefully attempt to count the hairs he had left God I never want to be old! I'm going to be young forever The immature Ginny had vowed, causing her mother to laugh a little and say wisely "My girl not even a witch can stop nature's course" But that was a time before Tom, long before those horrid hours spent in the chamber of secrets, many years before grief and fright had washed away her naïve hopes and innocent dreams.

I have to do this Ginny decided, straightening herself up and brushing the stray twigs from the bottom of her shabby robes.

She moved to stand before the gargoyle, opening her mouth and then remembering one vital detail…password.

"Bollocks!" Ginny grumbled.

"I'm afraid I selected something far less exotic" an amused voice chuckled from behind.

Cringing, Ginny slowly turned around and said red faced "Professor"

Dumbledore walked towards her, eyes twinkling "Pear Drop" he said simply before the gargoyle revolved to reveal a spiral staircase.

"Shall we" Dumbledore gestured towards his office, standing back to let Ginny walk up before him.

Ginny stared numbly for a spilt second before returning to her sense and her purpose.

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"I had an inkling you'd be paying me a visit" Dumbledore said evenly from where he was sitting behind his desk, looking attentively at the standing Gryffindor pupil.

Ginny narrowed her eyes, a familiar anger threatening to flare up.

"Why is that?" she replied rather shortly. Is it because you sent my dad to die?

The headmaster sighed and leaned forward in his seat "You have a lot of questions to ask me I dare say. I'm actually surprised you didn't come sooner"

"I've been busy lately" Ginny replied darkly.

"Yes" Dumbledore said slowly, knowingly "I dare say you have"

Before Ginny could puzzle over what he meant, Dumbledore continued "I can offer you no condolences or apologises over your father's death. He was a brave man who made a choice. A choice to try and protect his family and all he held dear. A choice which you may never understand but eventually will come to respect"

Ginny bared her teeth in a sudden feral anger "How dare you try and tell me how I should feel?" she said coldly through gritted teeth.

"What was so brave about throwing a life away for nothing? It was stupid of him to think he could fool The Dark Lord. What did he think to achieve? What could he possibly do? He was just a man. He wasn't a hero or anyone special…he was just a man!" Ginny declared loudly, her raised voice causing several portraits to mutter "Rude, insolent girl!"

"It perfectly natural to be angry with him-"

"I'm not bloody angry at him! I'm angry at you! It was your fault! You sent him on a suicide mission! It was you! not him! He was my dad, he, he…." Ginny stuttered, trying hard to regain control.

"He said he was just going on a trip…" she continued weakly "He said he would be back in a few days. I didn't even hug him went he went…" tears began to form in her eyes, blurring her vision. She moved blindly towards a chair and slumped down in it, feeling broken and so very tired.

"I was in the garden …sitting on the grass" she mumbled almost to herself "…I was reading a muggle book Hermione leant me, one of those slushy romances, stupid really, but I liked it. He called my name from the house. I'd normally go up and tell him to be careful, fuss over him a little…not as much as mum did obviously…but just a little, so he knew I cared. But I'd gotten to a really good part of the book…I can remember…it was just before the first kiss…" Ginny looked up, remembering that the headmaster sat only meters away from her, her throat became dry and she felt acutely ashamed of herself. But something in his serene blue eyes, gave her the strength to continue, those eyes seemed to say Go on tell me, you're safe. Just let it all out.

"I just looked up and waved, shouted goodbye across the garden. It wasn't enough…not nearly enough…I should have – I should have…" her voice shook as did her body, softly at first and then in great heavy shudders.

"If I had known that it was the last time I'd ever see him again…then I would have done something…said something more. Maybe I could have stopped him…Maybe…"

"Do not think in such a way. It will tear you up inside…" A soft voice counselled, in a tone which suggested he knew all too well the 'what ifs' and 'maybes' of guilt.

"You could not possibly have known. To you he was just saying goodbye for the day. It is not healthy to dwell on the past, unchangeable as it is." Dumbledore let out a weary sigh and finished heavily "It is terribly cruel that we can only remember yesterday and not relive it."

Relive it, relieve it, relive… the voice echoed in her head. He might not be able to but she could….that's what she had come for after all. She had come to see the past. The past of a man who had no future because of him… Ginny peered through tear moist eyes at the man who had killed her father. Yes, that was what she believed. She didn't hold Voldemort accountable for the murder…oh no…he may have been the one who had raised the wand, but it was he, Albus Dumbledore who had set the mission. He had taken so very much from people she loved.

Sirius wouldn't of died if he hadn't had kept him imprisoned, locked away under house arrest said the little voice inside of her head Think of Harry. Harry. Harry. The voice repeated over and over again, like it was saying the magic word. Think of Harry…

And what about you? The mental voice continued too softly He stole your father. The man you've known all your life. The man who read you stories about princesses and dragons…remember how wonderful that was? Remember how the princess was always strong and brave and you loved her all the more because she too had to live with six brothers…Remember how you loved the parts where she'd get her own back on the brothers who played tricks on her…You felt so safe and warm and loved but all that's gone now…Your father will never see you grow up, never see how powerful you will become, how beautiful, how deadly…

Ginny felt the words stream through her, they weren't her thoughts but she was thinking them. She knew as sure as she knew her own name, that these words, the persuasive little mutterings, which twisted her will as easily as air, were true. More than true. She would be powerful…she would be…Ginny let the little voice take over

Then there are you're brothers. You've never asked them how they feel have you? You don't care about them, only yourself…

I do care, I love them! Ginny thought strongly but the voice did not stop

Only yourself… always yourself…how you're feeling, how much you're going to miss him? But what about Bill? The first born, he knew your father the longest, perhaps his wound is the deepest. Or Charlie? He's your favourite isn't he? The brother who's not quite tame, the one who likes to play with Dragons. You think he's too strong to feel the pain but he's not. It hurts him. Then there's Percy, the quiet one. No you wouldn't talk to him; he pretends he's better than you all but he knows that isn't true. He loves being a Weasley. He loved his father. Next are the twins. You think that they'd be happy no matter what, you think them mere pranksters but you're wrong. You underestimate them, the brothers who are one and the same. Last of all there's Ron, closet to your heart and furthest from your thoughts. He knows you so well but then again not at all. Don't you care about him? No, I suppose not. Luckily he has friends, best friends who love him no matter what. You don't Ginny. You only have yourself. You can only trust yourself. And me…I'll always be with you. No matter what, I'll never leave you like he did…

Ginny shook her head, attempting to shake out the voice. It died away, retreating to a hidden place until it would rise once more.

"Are you well?" Professor Dumbledore asked in a voice which wasn't just filled with concern. There was something else in his soft, ancient tones. Something a little like wariness. Something a little like fear.

"I'm fine" Ginny replied guardedly, all too aware that his eyes seemed to search her very soul.

She tried to forget that just minutes before she had cried in front of this man; showed weakness against an adversary. Although her raw grief had now been replaced by an emotion quite different, she willed tears to well from her eyes and fall down her cheeks. She let out a weak sob and placed her hands over her eyes, as if to hide her pain. She felt him rather than saw him rise from his chair and walk to her side. Any minute now he would lay a comforting hand on her shoulder; perhaps whispering a few words of sympathy and regret. He was close. She let out another all-too convincing cry as she felt his hand move forward to pat her shoulder.

Pity was always his weakness a very cold voice said in her mind, she dimly recognised it but was too caught up in her act to really pay attention. Love is for fools!

Any second now. Nearly there. Just a bit closer, that's it. She felt his fingertips lightly touch her shoulder. A shiver of anticipation ran through her. I'll see him again. I'll see him!

"Albus you're needed right away"

The hand moved away as Ginny's heart dropped like a heavy stone and her blood boiled with hot rage.

Who dare interrupt? I was so close. So bloody close!

She spun around, eyes flashing with disgust at the sight of Professor McGonagall. Never before had she noticed just how repulsive all that garish tartan was. How she would love to wrap that scarf tight round her neck and pull it so…

"What's the problem Minerva?"

"One of my first years has been put under a particularly complex charm by Vincent Crabbe of all people. Young Richard Smith has been suspended 20ft in the air for the past hour. He absolutely petrified. I'm frankly amazed that Crabbe had it in him"

"I'll come right away" He looked over at Ginny and smiled "Perhaps we could continue this another time?"

Ginny nodded and bit back the heated response which threatened to spill out. Oh we will Dumbledore! this will be continued, you don't get away that easily…

"I trust you to see yourself out" Dumbledore gave Ginny one last, swift look of mingled feeling, before saying "Let's ground Mr. Smith. I do hope he's not very afraid of heights" and following Professor McGonagall out of the office.

Ginny's eyes burnt into their retreating backs. She let out a deep growl of frustration.

"Feisty little thing isn't she?" gossiped a witch from a nearby portrait, who unbeknown to Ginny, had a striking resemblance to Petunia Dursley. "I suppose it's all that red hair…bad tempered lot" the witch muttered to neighbour, while eyeing Ginny in a most disapproving way.

"Oh shut it you nosey old bag!" Ginny shouted back, before departing the office with a temper her family was famous for.

Muttering curses under her breath, Ginny stomped down the stairs, not looking where she was going.

When she felt a hard bulk crash into her, she knew instinctively that she really should start paying attention when walking in corridors. The second in one day, that's just my sodding luck!

As the memories flooded into her, she felt heartily glad that her temper was famous.

It would come in useful when she killed Draco Malfoy.