DISCLAIMER: This story is 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.
Harry walked into the common room cautiously. As he surveyed the room, he almost lost his nerve. There were many more people sitting in the couches and chairs than he'd expected. For a moment, he began to hope that Ron and Hermione weren't there. He looked around the room, and couldn't see them. Had they left? What if they'd both been told about Ginny? Maybe they were the ones arguing in the Hospital Wing?
"Harry!" someone shouted from a corner table, "Harry, thank goodness you're alright!"
It was Hermione and she was racing toward him. Ron was standing at the table they'd been sharing.
"The Aurors came and said we weren't to leave the common room, and that they couldn't find you. But when they came to say it was safe again, you still weren't here. We were so worried."
Harry walked with Hermione over to the table Ron was standing at. He sat down heavily in the corner chair and just stared at the rest of the room.
"Well?" Hermione asked insistently. "What happened? We heard a pair of Aurors saying something about some dark magic detectors. Was there an intruder?"
"No."
Ron and Hermione seemed surprised by his answer. "No?" Hermione said quizzically, her eyes searching Harry's face for more information. "Just 'No'? What happened, Harry?"
Harry's eyes scanned the room. Many of the other Gryffindors were sitting quietly, reading books or scratching away at Potions essays or messages for their parents. No one was talking or playing Exploding Snap.
They were all trying to listen.
"What's the matter, Harry?" Ron asked as he looked around the room, searching for whatever it was his friend was seeing.
"Everyone is listening, Ron."
"So? The Aurors didn't tell us anything. Everyone wants to know what happened."
"There was no intruder. It was all just a mistake."
"A mistake?" Hermione said. "What kind of mistake?"
"I don't want to talk about it here."
Ron shrugged. "Well, where is Ginny? Or is she still with Dumbledore?"
"I... Yeah, I think she's still with him." Harry felt a sharp pang of guilt saying that. It wasn't really a lie, and he'd correct it as soon as everyone stopped trying to hear every word he had to say.
"What's going on, Harry?" Hermione whispered. "You're acting really strange."
"Hold on," Ron said as he waved his arm in the air. "Here's Ginny now." Harry didn't turn to look. It truly had been Ginny arguing with Pomfrey. He knew she was walking toward them, but he couldn't force himself to look. He felt his stomach tighten into a ball, and felt as if he was going to be sick.
"Took Dumbledore long enough, didn't it?" Ron said quietly as Ginny slowly wound her way through the students. "I suppose that means something worked. He wouldn't have kept her this long for nothing. Maybe she'll be a bit more— Bloody Hell!"
Harry turned to see what Ron was looking at. As his eyes met Ginny's, he felt his throat tighten as if someone were choking him. Her hair was laying pleasantly straight again, and her clothes were neat and clean. However, her freshly dressed appearance made the red patches around her bloodshot eyes, her abnormally red lips, and the streaks of maroon in her cheeks look even more noticeable. Someone just might choke him when they find out why she looked like that,
"Ginny! Are you alright? You need to go to the Hospital Wing!" Hermione said. She was already standing and examining Ginny's face.
"What happened, Ginny?" Ron asked. "Did you get in a fight with a Slytherin or something?"
Ginny said nothing. She was just staring at Harry. It wasn't an accusing, angry, or fearful stare, any of which Harry had expected. She seemed... sad, and tired. It didn't make him feel any better. Something was wrong. Something more than he knew. Harry rubbed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, he'd wake from this nightmare. It was all going wrong. What had he done?
Ginny gave Harry a subtly questioning look. Harry knew what she meant to ask.
"I was just about to tell them—" he said in a low voice.
"Tell us what?" Ron said loudly. "Did you know about this?"
"Not here, Ron," Harry said through his teeth. Ginny nodded toward the stairs to the boy's dormitories. Harry understood. "Right. Come on, then. Up to our dormitory."
Ginny led the way, with Harry following her. Behind them Hermione led Ron by the arm, whispering quickly to him.
When they got to the sixth year dormitory, Ginny immediately walked to Harry's bed and sat down, leaning against one of the posts. She was apparently more exhausted than she'd wanted to appear in the common room. Harry sat by the window. He liked the idea that if things got too bad, he might be able to summon his broom and escape.
Ron closed the door behind Hermione. She immediately pointed her wand at the door and muttered, "Arceocerno," then walked over to where Ginny was sitting. Ginny sat passively and allowed Hermione to examine her.
"You shouldn't be here, Ginny. You really should go to the Hospital Wing."
"I just left the Hospital Wing," Ginny said. Harry felt another pang of guilt after hearing her voice. It had the dry, rasping sound of someone who'd been yelling too much. Ron stood against Harry's wardrobe.
"Harry said you were with Dumbledore."
"I was with Dumbledore."
"And he didn't let Pomfrey fix you up?"
"Madam Pomfrey... " Ginny's voice trailed off as she glanced at Harry. "It's nothing serious. I took some potions. They just take some time to work."
"You mean you were worse than this?"
"It's not that bad, Ron."
"You look like you were run over by a Hippogriff!" Ron replied. Hermione stopped looking at Ginny to glare at Ron. "Enough, Ron. We've got the point." Ron looked unfazed.
"Are you mental? Look at her! Ginny and Harry left to go talk to Dumbledore about a Memory Charm, and Ginny comes back here looking like this? If I can figure it out, I know you can, Hermione."
"We don't know what happened," Hermione shot back, "but they do."
Ron walked over to Ginny and looked her in the eyes. "You went there to try and break the charm, didn't you?" Ginny didn't say anything, but her eyes blinked lazily. She wasn't going to deny it. "What did he do, beat you with a chair until you remembered something?"
"Ron—" Harry started, but Ron ignored him.
"Memory Charms aren't like Hover Charms, Ginny. You can't just wave your wand and make them go away. It would take some seriously strong magic to remove them, and even then it would probably be..." Ron's voice trailed off as he turned to look at Hermione, who was frowning at him.
"The Aurors..." he said as if he'd suddenly stumbled across the answer to some riddle. "They said detectors had gone off..." Ron turned to face Ginny again. She stared back passively.
"He used dark magic on you? What in bloody hell was he thinking? That's it isn't it, Ginny?"
Ginny swallowed hard and looked down at her knees, nodding almost imperceptibly. Ron was shaking his head in disbelief. Hermione sat down next to Ginny and put her arm around the younger girl's shoulders.
"Mum's going to kill him."
Harry's head jerked involuntarily toward his three friends. He hadn't thought of that. Not that there was much that could be done about that now.
Ginny tried to sit up. "It's not his fault, Ron. I told him to." Harry could hear the fear and sadness in her voice. She was crying.
"That's not the point, Ginny!" Ron shouted back. "You could have been seriously hurt."
"He knew what he was doing, Ron," Hermione said softly.
"Just because he's the Headmaster doesn't mean he's always right, Hermione."
Harry saw Ginny twitch. Her head snapped over to look at Harry. Their eyes met briefly. Her eyes were still red, but now there were a pair of wet trails of tears rolling down the sides of her face. Her lips moved slowly, silently mouthing a single word: Sorry.
Ron was describing just how angry Molly would be with Dumbledore, but Hermione had noticed the exchanged look. She held up a hand to catch Ron's attention. "Ron, wait. There's something more."
Ron stopped talking and looked from Hermione to Ginny. In a quiet, rough voice Ginny said, "It wasn't Dumbledore." Hermione's mouth dropped open. Ron looked confused. Harry felt his heart racing. He looked away from his friends, and watched the clouds slowly drift across the sky in front of the pale moon.
"It wasn't Dumbledore? Who else was there? Dad would have the head of any Auror who—"
"It was me, Ron," Harry said. Ron stared back at him. All of the sentiments that Harry had expected to see from Ginny were present in Ron's expression instead.
"Harry... Why... How? How could you do that?"
Harry couldn't imagine feeling worse. He looked over to his friends sitting on his bed. Ginny was looking away and leaning on the post more heavily than she had been before. Hermione was looking at him with what seemed to be pity. Ron looked caught between shock and rage. They'd never forgive him for this.
"Did it work?" Hermione asked quietly. Ron seemed outraged at the question, but was even more upset by the answer.
"I don't know," Ginny said quietly. "I think so, but I didn't really remember anything important. I... I don't remember them doing anything to me."
"Are you sure he did it right?" Hermione asked gently, not wanting to sound like she didn't believe in her friends.
Ginny's eyes closed and she tried to hide a grimace as she remembered the feeling of the spell. She nodded.
"How did you... you know... your face?" Ron asked, without taking his eyes from Harry. Ginny's eyes roamed across the ceiling, as she tried to think of how to explain.
"The spell... it, er... it hurt," she finished lamely.
"It hurt? Ginny, getting hit with a Bludger hurts, but I've never seen anyone leave a pitch looking as bad as you do now."
"It was just pain, Ron," Ginny told him. "I'll be fine."
"It wasn't just pain," Harry said aloud. He was as surprised as anyone to hear himself speak, but now that he'd begun, he didn't want to stop himself. He was so tired of keeping secrets. He was always keeping secrets. It was all inside him. It was too much to bear.
"When Dumbledore took her to the Hospital Wing, she was coughing blood and shaking uncontrollably. She couldn't even sit up. It must have taken every bit of her will to gather the strength to beg me to stop."
Ginny pulled herself up and was trying to walk toward him. She had a strange look on her face. "No, Harry, don't—"
"That's exactly what you said that earlier," Harry said as he turned to look away from her. "Maybe you don't remember through the blinding pain."
"Stop it, Harry. You're only making it worse..." Ginny said as she leaned against another bedpost.
"Have you lost your mind, Harry?" Ron asked as he stood next to Ginny. "What were you thinking? Dark magic, Harry? Look what you've done!"
"That's enough, Ronald!" Ginny shouted hoarsely. "We knew what we were doing. We thought we did, at least. Harry was trying to help."
"Trying to help!" Ron shouted incredulously. "Well, I'll be sure to ask someone else if I ever need any!"
"Ron—"
Hermione was standing now as well. She'd placed herself between Ron and Harry.
"This is Harry we're talking about, Ron. I'm sure he had some reason for using such desperate measures." She turned to Harry expectantly.
He did have a reason. A very troubling reason. The image seemed to be burned into the inside of his skull, a mirror image of the one he bore on his forehead. He felt his throat tightening, and a twinge of the anger that had helped him use the spell so effectively.
Ginny was shaking her head ever so slightly, and looking at him with wide, bloodshot eyes, pleading silently that he not say anything more. Was she embarrassed? Ashamed? She's scared, a faint voice in his head told him. She's just as frightened about it as you are.
"There was nothing else to try," he heard himself say in a flat, emotionless voice. "I just wanted to help. I didn't think it would be that bad."
Ginny's eyes closed briefly, and a small smile of relief spread across her face. "I asked him to, Ron. I thought it would be worth it," she said in a soft voice, sounding a little better than she had a moment earlier.
Ron didn't seem to like their answer. He stewed and paced back and forth a bit, glancing back at Harry occasionally. Finally he stopped. "Mum's going to be furious when she hears of this."
"Probably," Ginny replied calmly, "but she won't be hearing it from you."
Ron folded his arms over his chest. "And why not? I am a prefect, you know."
Ginny smiled back weakly. "So am I, but I wasn't out past curfew last week snogging Hermione."
Hermione let out a strangled gasp of betrayal as she turned to look at Ginny. Ron's face colored, but his jaw was set.
"I hardly think that Hermione and I sneaking out to talk is on the same level as Harry using dark magic!"
Ginny shrugged. "Maybe. You write your letter, and I'll write mine." Ron huffed and turned away. "Right then. If you two don't mind, I'd like to talk to Harry alone."
"That's rich," Ron snorted, "You think I'm going to leave you alone in the room with him, after this?"
Ginny's eyes narrowed, looking quite a bit more menacing due to her appearance. "What are you more afraid of, Ronald? That he'll be overcome with evil and attack me again, or that we might be snogging on your bed?"
"That's it!" Ron said jabbing a finger toward his sister. "I'll find McGonagall, and let her—"
Ron's mouth kept moving, but nothing came out. Hermione was standing nearby, her wand out and pointed at him. He turned to glare nastily at her, but finally gave up and stomped out of the room. Hermione followed him silently and closed the door behind her.
Harry resumed watching the clouds drift across the sky outside. Ginny sat down on his bed again, but said nothing. He was content to sit here and say nothing, and if she wanted to stay silent, he wasn't going to stop her. After a while, Harry began to think that she just might not say anything. He turned to look at her.
She was staring at him, with streams of tears running down her face. The arm which held her to the bedpost was trembling, and the other was tugging nervously at her robe pocket.
"Harry..." she said with a shaky voice. "Harry, we can't be together. Not now." She forced herself to keep looking at him.
Harry felt an icy panic slice through him. He'd imagined all sorts of horrible things his friends might have said to him, but never that. He hadn't imagined that she'd leave him. Without her, he'd never have made it this far. He couldn't breathe. He could feel himself struggling for air, but it seemed like he was watching someone else. He struggled to get control of himself again.
"Ginny... I'm sorry..." he stammered, "I didn't mean..." The panic reached his brain, and he began talking faster, desperately trying to say as much as he could before she ran away.
"I didn't think it would be that bad. I couldn't tell with Neville, he had broken his leg, and his memories— I didn't think it would hurt you that much, and then I saw your mark, and— and I needed to know. Nothing could be more horrible than the things that I was imagining. Knowing had to be better. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't realize— I should have, I know. Dumbledore tried to stop me, but— I'm so sorry. You can't believe that I'd ever do that to you again..."
Harry stopped and took a couple deep breaths. Ginny was still crying, but she had a small smile, and her eyes were full of compassion. Had his rambling worked?
"Oh, Harry," Ginny said with a small sob, "I know all of that. You aren't like Tom. You could never mean to hurt anyone."
"So... You— You're staying with me?"
"I can't, Harry."
"Why not?" Harry said. He wasn't angry. He was just a frightened boy again, losing the last friend he thought he had. "He's taking everyone from me. I can't lose you, too. You said you would help me. You were the one who convinced me that it would be okay."
"I— I had only thought that Voldemort would attack me because I was your friend ... or girlfriend, or that he'd trick you into protecting me. I hadn't imagined..." Ginny gave Harry a sad look. "Don't you see what Tom's done? He wasn't trying to attack me—"
"He wasn't? Are you mental?"
"He was attacking you, Harry," Ginny replied. "He won't attack you directly. Maybe he can't. But he can hurt you. Can't you see? He's using me to hurt you. I... I never imagined that. If we're together, he'll just keep using me until..." Ginny looked away and tried to control her sobbing.
"Until when?" Harry asked, though he didn't think he wanted to hear the answer.
"Until one of us is dead."
"So I'm just supposed to stop feeling this way? I'll just pretend you're my best mate's sister, and I'll just be one of the sixth-years you know?"
"I— I don't know, Harry," Ginny said between sniffles. "It's too dangerous now. Maybe... later, after he's been defeated..."
"If he's been defeated," Harry said in a low voice.
"I'm sorry, Harry. You understand, don't you? It's not that I don't..."
Ginny didn't say anything more. She stood up and hobbled to the door, still crying. She said a shy goodnight to him, and told him she'd see him the next day. Harry barely heard her. His mind was already miles away. He didn't know where or how, but he was searching for someone. Someone who'd taken too much from him.
"Are you okay, Harry?" she said from the doorway. Her voice was muffled, as if a strong wind were rushing through the room.
"I need to be alone," he said. His own voice echoed loudly in his head. "Tell Ron I'm sorry. I'll get him when I'm done."
"Done? What are—"
"Nothing you should worry about," Harry snapped.
With a thud, the door closed behind her. Harry closed his eyes, and focused on the twinge of happiness he felt in the back of his mind. Happiness that was not his. He focused all his will on that tiny feeling, and suddenly he felt the world around him dissolve."
A figure was sitting at a large table, with large, bony hands turning a charred page in a half burned tome. Slowly the face turned to look at Harry. As the red eyes focused on his, an evil smile spread across his face.
"Had a bad day, Potter?"
Harry stared into the eyes of the creature Tom Riddle had become, and for the first time, he felt no fear. If there was any fear left, it was masked by anger and disgust.
"You wretched coward," Harry spat. "Are you too afraid to come after me?"
Voldemort stood up slowly and circled around Harry. "Very good, Potter. You're getting more and more control every day."
Some fear finally pushed through Harry's mind. Voldemort could see him. How much more real could this get? Would Voldemort be able to attack him?
"Did you do it?" Voldemort asked. Harry just stared back at him. He wondered if it would surprise him more if Voldemort knew what had happened with Ginny or if he did not. When Harry didn't respond, Voldemort paused to look into Harry's eyes. A menacing smile spread across his gaunt face.
"You did." A harsh laugh broke from his lips. "You did! Foolish boy!" His laughter echoed from the walls.
"I could feel your anger. Your fear. Your rage. I knew you must have found it. I admit, I didn't expect it so soon. I don't suppose you'll tell me how you found it?" Another series of laughs rang off the walls. "No? Of course not. It doesn't matter. You found it, and you went looking for the reason."
Harry remained silent. He suddenly realized he hadn't thought about what he'd do once he'd actually found Voldemort. It seemed like a much worse idea than it had a moment ago.
"Bellatrix didn't think you'd use it without some... convincing. She's always underestimating you." Voldemort circled around Harry. "It is an ancient spell. It was created long ago by wizards in ancient Babylon. It was used to force memories into another wizards mind. They used it to pass on their most secret traditions. Only later was it discovered that it was quite effective at breaking Memory Charms."
"Of course, the wizards of Babylon used it as a rite of passage among their greatest warlocks, and they didn't mind the excruciating pain it caused." Voldemort let out a hissing laugh. "And did you find what you were looking for?"
"Why won't you attack me?" Harry said, trying to change the subject.
"Oh, but I am," Voldemort hissed back at him. "You do at least deserve to know the truth. Your pretty girlfriend was not harmed by me, or anyone else. At least, not by my design. Of course, she was frightened a bit and I'm afraid that she did see some things that upset her terribly, but I did not harm her. I knew you would do that for me."
"Why do any of it?" Harry asked angrily. "Do you think I'll give up? Do you think I'll just stop fighting you?"
"Come now, Potter. You must know that I understand you better than that. No, I don't expect you to give up. I expect you to resist. I expect you to suffer. I spent twelve long years in a state so close to death that there are no words which can describe the difference. I have spent more time on the threshold of oblivion than any wizard will ever know. Twelve years, all because some Muggle stumbled upon a way to postpone her child's fate."
"For that, you will suffer. Your friends will suffer. Everyone you care about will suffer. And it will not end. Not until I let you die."
Harry felt a stab of guilt. Sirius had died for him. His parents had died for him. Now he was losing his friends. And Ginny. He turned to Voldemort with a scowl, "You've already taken everyone I love from me. Are you afraid of me?"
"Have I taken everyone from you?" Voldemort's snakelike eyes drifted closed, then opened, the narrow slits dancing. "Perhaps I have. She's left you. I can feel it in your mind. So much for love," he sneered with a cruel smile. "She's tossed it aside it as one casts away a torch when the flame burns too close to one's hand. It's worth disappeared once she was threatened, and she could no longer risk the weakness."
"But not you. Your love remains, to your detriment. You cling to it as if it might hold some power to save you or change your fate. In time, you will learn the true nature of love." Voldemort turned to stare directly into Harry's eyes.
"Love is the sword you will impale yourself on. Love is the chain that will bind you and keep you from what you want."
"This has nothing to do with her!" Harry shouted with as much of a threat as he could. "You stay away from her."
Voldemort continued circling, getting closer and closer. His eyes bore into Harry.
"Love is the fog that keeps you from seeing the truth and the path to your goal. Love is the burden on your back, stealing your strength and making you stumble.
"Shut up!" Harry shouted. "You're a liar! You're nothing but some cowardly creature!"
Voldemort's icy, uncompassionate eyes stared into Harry's.
"Love will be your downfall."
"THEN I'LL FALL!" Harry shouted into Voldemort's face. "Even if they all fall with me!" Harry thought he saw Voldemort wince with something like pain, but it passed just as quickly, and in its wake, Harry felt the world shudder around him.
"I won't be like you," Harry said in a quieter voice.
"You already are like me!" Voldemort laughed as he turned and resumed circling Harry. "The students fear you. Those who do not, have formed themselves into a group of loyal supporters who do whatever you say. They know what happens to those who oppose you. You take what you want, even from your friends, and you ignore emotion when it stands between you and what you want."
"No, that's not how it was," Harry muttered to himself. It hadn't, had it? He had done it to protect them all. He'd never wanted it to gain power. It was different. Or was it? Harry was having trouble concentrating.
"You're lying. You're— You're trying to trick me. Why the games? Why won't you attack me?"
"Because I don't have to, Potter. Soon your friends will turn on you, and either they will kill you, or they'll fall, one by one."
"Leave my friends alone!" shouted Harry, as the world started to spin. Voldemort was still slowly circling him, but it seemed the walls were as well. "Take me. Leave them alone! I'm the one who you have to kill!"
The room became blurry. His voice seemed to echo oddly, and Voldemort paused in his steps, a frown on his face. Harry tried to concentrate. "Stay away from them! Kill me!"
There were other voices in the room. They were calling his name, Harry looked for them, but as he did, the whole world seemed to lurch, and then a dizzy moment later the room seemed to explode into a million shards of glass.
He was sprawled on the floor of his dormitory. It was dark, but he could see Hermione's bushy hair and the red hair of Ron leaning over him. They seemed to be shouting something, but Harry couldn't tell just what it was.
"Harry!" Hermione was shouting in a dull voice. "Harry, what happened?"
Slowly the world fell back into focus. Hermione looked terrified, and Ron seemed to be genuinely worried about him. Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, but fell back against the wall with a groan as the room spun about him again.
"What was it, Harry?" Hermione asked. "What did you see?"
Harry tried to answer, but he was beginning to feel quite ill, and closed his eyes instead and tried to control is stomach.
Hermione jumped to her feet. "Stay with him, Ron. Something's happened. Ginny might be the only person who knows."
Ginny. Harry's mind latched onto the name. Ginny would know what happened. She'd be able to tell. She always knew.
She couldn't know.
"No, stop!" Harry croaked, just as Hermione reached the door. Ginny was right. She had to stay away from him. Voldemort wouldn't leave her alone. He had to make sure that she would not second guess her decision.
Hermione froze, staring at Harry. "What happened, Harry? Was it a vision?"
"No —well, yes," he said weakly. "I... I went to see him... to see Voldemort." He tried to sit up again, but failed. "Can you... Just help me to my bed?"
"You— You saw him? Was that who you were talking to? You can talk to Voldemort in your visions?"
"Not now, Ron," Hermione said sharply.
Ron helped pull Harry to his feet and Hermione helped him lead Harry back to his bed. Harry fell down limply. He didn't care that he was still wearing his robes. Or his shoes. He just needed sleep.
"You... er... said some things, Harry," Ron said slowly. "They sounded really bad. What were you talking about?"
Harry gave him a confused glance. Had he said everything out loud? What had they heard? Did it matter? It's not like he could stop any of it. He felt himself slipping off into unconsciousness.
"We'll talk about it later, Ron," Hermione said sharply.
"You heard what he said, Hermione. I'd rather know what he meant now, if it's all the same."
"Not—now—Ron" Hermione said through her teeth.
It was just as well. Harry didn't think he could have spoken very clearly. Tomorrow would be just as good. If he made it until tomorrow.
Author's Notes:
Alright. There's the second half. Still reading?