Author's note: This chapter seems very scrambled. There is a lot more 'fanfictiony' stuff in it. Like, I think a bit OOC-ness here and there. Oh, and I love all my readers and reviewers! You guys rock!
ooo
Nothing but Sirius Black was discussed the next couple of days at Hogwarts. The ridiculous theories about how Black got into the Castle overtaking the school were enough to make Ginny go mad. The only time she could find herself able to think over the sheer amount of gossip was class. Thankfully, the professors calmly conducted each period and all of them were eager to keep the students worry-free and working hard.
Occlumency lessons were currently Friday evenings only, and Ginny had yet to have to go see Snape to continue with Implimency. This was a good thing, as now she had plenty of time to devote to the diary she had found on Halloween night. It was an exact replica of the one she had written to so dedicatedly as a first year. In fact, the lack of Tom's memory was the only difference it had from the original —which Ginny was soon to change.
As a fifth year, it had been remarkable for Riddle to complete a spell to hold a memory of his sixteen-year-old self in a book. Perhaps Ginny was not a prodigy, but she was convinced she had the talent and intellect, and more importantly, the resolve to remove Riddle from her own mind and put him securely back in a book where he belongs. She spent all of her free time in the Library, looking up anything to do with magical maladies of the psyche.
It was the first Thursday afternoon of November, and Ginny found herself trudging to the Library for the third time that day. She had asked Professor Snape for permission to go into the restricted section, for research on the Blood Needle Toxin she claimed. This, as interesting as the topic may be, was merely a con so that she would be allowed to look at the selection of books dealing with the mind that she normally wouldn't have access to. Madame Pince stared at her very carefully as she finished looking over the permission slip, then disappointedly unlocked the restricted section.
After more than an hour of searching the shelves thanklessly, Ginny's legs were throbbing unpleasantly and her back was sore from leaning over too much. She grabbed Portraying Personality in Portraits, A Thought on Pensives, Solely for Those Who Lack a Soul, and The Trick to Restoring and Storing Memories, now with Illustrations!.
She sheepishly checked out the books and made her way back to her room.
Having had little luck thus far in her research, Ginny had agreed to go to the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff match with some of her fellow Gryffindors. She met up with Colin, Ashlyn, Fides Winslow, Sycamore Mordant, and Madeline Corial in the common room before they made their way down to the Quidditch pitch.
What had started as a sparse shower in the morning had turned into a full-blown thunderstorm by kickoff. Ginny was crammed into the stands, soaking wet, and barely being able to make out the shapes of scarlet and yellow specks as they zoomed around the field. The crowd screamed and cheered as Gryffindor steadily gained a twenty, thirty, forty, and finally fifty point lead after two hours of play.
With the help of Sycamore's binoculars, Ginny began to follow Cedric Diggory and Harry's path as they meandered over the game pursuing the snitch. Katie Bell and the Hufflepuff chasers each scored two consecutive goals, and just as the Hufflepuff and Slytherins began to cheer for their second goal, a cold silence washed over the southern end of the pitch.
Students and teachers began to rise from their seats as an icy feeling seeped through the stands and there was a collective gasp as a horde of Dementors made their way onto the field. Ginny's head spun and she dropped back into her seat just in time to hear, "Oh Harry, no!" before she blacked out.
Ashlyn Wischard looked down to see Ginny Weasley slump over slightly on the bench, and then slowly blink her eyes open. "Ginny, it's Harry, he's –hey, are you, where are you going?"
Ginny stood up shakily and gave Ashlyn a very odd smile as she reached out her hands palm up, gathering raindrops, and then laughed coldly. The smile never left her face as she drifted down the stands, not caring to watch the drama unfold below on the pitch as Dumbledore floated the limp Gryffindor seeker towards the Castle.
ooo
Unfolding and folding his hands, granted they were really Ginny Weasley's hands, was a wonderfully delightful feeling to Tom Riddle as he walked quietly down the stands. He had fully regained all five senses for the first time in over fifty years. His sight was clear, his sense of smell intense, his hearing precise, his skin alive with textures, and he even had delight in tasting the citrus-flavored toothpaste still lingering on Ginny's teeth. He felt every muscle move, his blood pumping, his lungs inflating and then releasing. Sure, he may not have the…assets that he used to when he was a physical boy, but that was a small price to pay. Unfortunately, he knew he had little time to work with, that the affects of the Dementors would wear off, and the little blood-traitor would soon recover the mental strength to dislodge his hold on her body.
Tom reached the bottom of the stairs from the stands, and to his disgust saw the old fool Dumbledore rushing to the school, a stretcher suspended in midair before him.
Trying hard not to curse the headmaster into oblivion, Tom waited patiently until the grounds were void of any threatening figures and made his way to the front doors. Once inside he started down a long stone corridor. The entire hall had no classrooms, and seemed to serve no purpose, except for the one room he had discovered in his first week at Hogwarts.
Behind the Hydra tapestry was his study, and inside were all the books he ever truly needed at school. He entered and headed straight for the bookcase, behind which was a stone that was a concealed safe. Inside the safe were all the books and materials he had used fifty years ago. He removed everything and carefully arranged each tomb for the Weasley to find later. Tom even bookmarked chapters she would use. He checked over his notes, making alterations where appropriate. Finally, he opened the King James Bible he had from the orphanage. He had found it rather amusing to hollow the text out and hide his most prized tokens within a holy book. There was a vial of his blood. It was aged fifty years, yet perfectly preserved for the spell he needed in order to get his body back.
"Just this and everything will be ready," Tom said to himself as he transfigured a new utensil for one final item. He picked up the instrument and counted down from five, and he was done. He quickly disposed of the utensil and finished organizing all of the supplies.
Smiling to himself at his work and plan, Tom left his study and had full intentions on heading back to Gryffindor tower, when a better idea struck him. The dungeons had been his home for five years, why should he not just stop by for a little visit.
He knew not to head for the common, as that would appear suspicious coming for the innocent Weasley child, but he had every right to go to the potions laboratories. He was just ready to snoop in Severus' classroom, when a platinum blond head turned the corner and headed towards Tom.
Even in the dim light, he recognized the pale pointed face and the steely blue eyes. Wondering if the name would mean anything to the stranger, he called softly, "Lucian?"
The boy raised his gaze, and instantly his eyes burned with their own recognition and loathing. Tom smirked inwardly, he should have known this to be a Malfoy, and likewise should have known his discontent for Virginia.
Draco Malfoy sneered and sauntered over. He asked in his lazily pompous drawl, "What do you think you're doing here, Weasel?"
Tom nearly laughed at the remarkable likeness of the generations; this one here would be just as cowardly loyal and feeble as the elder Malfoy.
Draco scowled as Ginny did not answer him and only smirked. Inwardly, he was becoming nervous due to the downright evil grin that was playing at the redhead's lips, and the scarlet tint that had entered her normally chocolate eyes. He mentally slapped himself at paying such close attention to filth's features. "Hoping to beg some spare change off me so that your pathetic parents can actually buy the litter a meal this month?"
Instantly Ginny's features lit with an unfamiliar look for her. Tom gleefully pulled out Virginia's wand and pointed it at the bewildered Malfoy. "Get used to this, my boy! Curintere!"
Draco's eyes widened as his back hunched forward on its own. As if some unbearable force was pushing on him, he fell to his knees, his head bowed respectively at the young Weasley. He clenched his jaw as his mind tumbled in bafflement. He ground out, "What the hell do you think you are doing you defiled piece of―"
"I would stop there, young Malfoy," Tom allowed himself to laugh. "Or, I am afraid you will be doing much more…"
His head still forcefully bent to the ground, Draco could not see the cruel delight on Ginny's face. "What's going on here, Weasley? When my father hears about this, you'll pay!"
"Oh dear, dear…Do not worry, I will personally inform Lucian of his son's incompetent ability to serve me." Tom watched the boy's face twist in confusion.
"Lucian? My grandfather died nearly ten years ago. My father is Lucius. Come on, Weasley, you know that!" Draco growled through his clenched teeth, still trying to push himself up.
"Interesting… Well, no worries, I assure you, he will not be pleased that the Dark Lord is unhappy with him," Tom's smile deepened as the boy suddenly stopped resisting the spell, and his body went completely rigid.
"What ―what are you saying Weasley?" Clearly, Draco thought, the girl has gone mad.
Tom leaned down and whispered into Malfoy's ears, "What I am saying is that Lord Voldemort is coming. And that you will be ready to die for him when need be. It is what you are here for, my boy. He will make sure of it. Finite incantum."
Malfoy's body slacked to the stone floor, and Tom made sure to dig the Weasley brat's heal into the boy's back as he stepped over him and proceeded out of the Dungeons.
Tom made it successfully to Gryffindor Tower, only to be stumped when Sir Cadogan asked him for the password. "Oh, come now, you must know who I am, let me enter," he said testily at the portrait's denied access.
"And you should know by now, and especially under current conditions, that a password is required for entrance." The knight said from behind his visor, which had clapped itself shut.
"What do you mean by current conditions?" Tom titled his head.
Sir Cadogan started at that and said, "Why Sirius Black!"
Obviously, however important this name was to the silly picture, Tom cared nothing for it and frowned at his vague response.
"Don't worry Gin," said a voice to Tom's left as someone approached. He looked to see the girl from the Quidditch game stride up to the portrait. "The password's Twiddlebit."
Tom did not say anything for a moment, for the girl beside him had almost made his mouth drop, and certainly made him painfully aware of his lack of manly goods. She was positively luscious. He mentally let out a disappointed string of curses. How he missed the old days when girls would offer themselves daily for his pleasure. Damn the Weasley brat for being a damn girl.
"Ginny?" The girl interrupted Tom's thoughts, "Are you coming in?"
He looked up through the portrait hole, only to realize his vision was going blurry, his other senses beginning to fade as well. Tom's hold on Virginia was slipping, and she was coming back. He flashed a last smirk at the beautiful girl in front of him before he receded once more.
ooo
Ginny groggily stumbled forward and fell into the portrait hole. She was instantly awake as she became aware of the fact she was lying in the middle of a doorway, and not on a stand bench. She rolled over the threshold and into the Gryffindor common room. How she got there, she could not recall. Ashlyn leaned over Ginny with curiosity written on her face.
"Having fun down there?"
"Uhh…" She held out her arm and Ashlyn helped pull her to her feet. Ginny was about to ask what they were doing inside when an image of Harry plummeting from his broom in the middle of the Quidditch game during the storm flashed before her eyes. "Oh no! Where's Harry? Do you know if he's alright? What happened? And, and the Dementors! Why were they on the pitch?"
"Hey, listen! Calm down," Ashlyn said as she shook Ginny by the shoulders gently. "Ginny, you with me? OK, good. Dumbledore took Harry to the Hospital Wing, I expect. I'm not sure if he's conscious, but I think…I'm sure he is fine, physically. I don't know why he fell from his broom, but I'm willing to bet it was something to do with the Dementors and how they affect him. And, well, no one quite knows why they came onto the pitch, but Dumbledore was furious, that's for sure…"
Ginny bobbed her head up and down as she listened. Harry was alive. He was still alive…
"Oh, and…Gryffindor lost," Ashlyn said as an afterthought, shrugging her shoulders.
"WHAT?" Ginny let her mouth drop open, and then shook her head. Quidditch isn't important right now… "At least…we played…well."
"Man, you really don't remember any of this?" Ashlyn asked quietly.
"I can't remember anything except seeing Harry fall. After that, it's all just a blank…" Ginny said this very slowly as she realized this is exactly how she felt last year after Riddle had possessed her. She took hold of Ashlyn's arms and shook them nervously, "Oh no, no. Ashlyn, I've got to go find Professor Snape. This isn't good, this is very…Oh shoot!"
"Huh? Why do you have to go see that git?" Ashlyn looked at Ginny as if she had sprouted four arms.
"Everyone has their secrets, remember?" Ginny said quietly, even if she was in a panic on the inside.
Ashlyn's face twisted with disgust, "Eww! You and him― Oh god, that's gross! He's like ancient, and his nose! Have you seen his hair?"
Ginny was lost for a second, then "What? Oh, come on, no! You have a sick mind, I mean, no, that's just wrong!"
"I mean, he's kinda alright in the right light, and he's sorta mysterious and― but, oh, never mind! As long as you're not…"
"We're not. Gosh, no. But, I still have to go see him," Ginny said this quickly as some students began to give them annoyed glances. "I'll be back in a while! Later!"
Ginny left her friend standing in the portrait hole and almost ran to the staircase. She received odd looks from the twins and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team as she nearly jumped down the steps.
"Don't worry, Gin! Your knight in shining armor will recover soon!" one of the twins called after her, and laughter followed shortly.
Ginny ignored her brother's quip and continued straight to the Potions room. She reached the door and started frantically banging on it as she tried to catch her breath. After several minutes of no response, she finally tapered off and slumped against the door. She considered trying to go to Dumbledore's office, but rejected that idea, as she did not know the password. Her mind raced for someone who could help her, when a name popped into her head. She reached his office and hastily knocked and opened the door before there was an answer, "Professor Lu―"
She faltered as she saw Lupin down a steaming goblet with Professor Snape hovering over him. They both turned as she slammed her way into the room. Lupin finished off the contents of the goblet and set it on his desk, and shared a glance with Snape.
"What's the matter, Miss Weasley?" Lupin asked casually.
Ginny forgot her curiosity and stupor and her mouth immediately started running before she could properly think about what she wanted to say, "Professor Snape, Riddle's ―and the game― the Dementors!" She stopped to think about her words carefully instead of just spitting them out, "I think there's a ninety-nine percent possibility that he may have possessed me…again."
Time in the room seemed to lag for a while as no one moved. The door behind Ginny finally clicked itself shut and the three occupants were jolted back to the present.
"Are you sure of this Weasley?" Snape asked, breaking the silence. He brushed past her to lock the door. Ginny cocked her head, many questions streaming through her mind.
"Yes, I'm sure. It's just like last year, except now I know what's happening when I blank out."
"When did it happen?" Lupin questioned from where he was leaning on his desk.
"The last thing I remember is the Dementors coming onto the Quidditch field, and then I came around about ten minutes ago in the Tower." Ginny sat down in a chair, feeling slightly tired as her adrenalin level dropped. "I can't tell you what I must have been doing that entire time."
"…I have an idea," Snape said, walking up to Ginny. He kneeled so that he was eye level with her. "If you can't tell me what you were up to, maybe Riddle can."
Ginny took a moment to understand what he meant, "You mean, if I block you from reading my mind, maybe you'll be redirected to his memories."
"Very good, Miss Weasley."
"OK, let's do this." Ginny set her chin and stared into the beady Potion Master's eyes. He stood straight up and drew his wand. Her hands were shaking, and she grabbed the arms of the chair so no one would notice.
"Severus…" Lupin started to object, but stopped as Snape gave him a disgustedly aggravated look.
"One, two …Legilimens!"
The spell hit her square in the forehead and knocked Ginny further into the chair. She could almost feel something reaching out and trying to tear her brain open. She clenched her eyes shut, willing the spell away from her own mind. She jerked forward as it reached right through her own mind and seemed to delve into a different presence. She opened her eyes at the odd sensation, as if a ghost's hand was rummaging around in her skull.
Snape was standing in front of her, his eyes clouded and unfocused yet darting around as if they were scanning a picture laid before them. Suddenly his eyes widened and, without warning, he groaned as he was flung backwards into the door. The icy hand yanked painfully through Ginny's head and out her eyes. She yelped as she was physically tugged off her seat.
"Do you two insist on causing yourselves physical pain?" Lupin asked, helping Ginny to her feet and then proceeding to do the same for Snape. He watched as both of them dizzily looked around
"It seems like I didn't get the memories we wanted," Snape said, awkwardly brushing dust off his back. He made an abnormally apprehensive look at Ginny.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, not meaning to sound as rude as it came out. She apologized and tried again, "Is there something you need, Professor?"
Lupin looked back and forth between the two, feeling slightly like a third wheel. He was curious to know why Snape looked as shaken up as he did. "What's the matter Severus?"
"Nothing," Snape said angrily and stormed out of the room.
There was more silence as Ginny and Lupin stood somewhat dumbfounded in the Potion Master's wake. "That's not fair. I still had questions for him to answer!" Ginny complained. "That man can be such an a―" ―she stopped, remembering her company― "He can be peculiar sometimes."
"He has many…issues to deal with," Lupin suggested vaguely. They watched the door inch its way shut.
o o o
It was Friday afternoon, and Ginny was sitting down with Colin and Sycamore Mordant for lunch.
"I noticed Professor Lupin wasn't in class today," Sycamore said as they sat down, oddly straining his voice to sound nonchalant.
"Uh…I have a feeling the entire class noticed that as well," Colin laughed, serving himself some food. "It's not like you can miss that oily-bat of a Potions Professor."
Ginny was idly wondering where this was going.
"Yes, I know that, but the point―"
"You mean there is a point to this?" Colin asked as he selected prime slices of bacon, still laughing slightly.
"Oh, Colin, just let him speak…I'm interested where this is going."
"Yes, well anyhow, I've been keeping track of the absences from class―"
"Isn't that kind of odd, don't you think?" Colin snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Anyhow, all the absences from class occurred on the nights of the fu―"
A sharp gasp stopped Sycamore in mid-sentence, and all three of them turned to watch as Ashlyn, who had been about to sit down, race out of the Great Hall covering her face. People gave odd looks to her retreating back.
"What's with her?" Colin asked no one in particular, his mouth half full with food. "Anyhow, you were saying Syca?"
"Oh never mind, it's just a stupid theory…" he said dejectedly, poking his plate with a fork.
"I think I'm going to go talk to Ashlyn," Ginny pushed herself up from the table. "I'm worried about her."
Later that evening, after searching in the dorm, the common room, the Library, the bathrooms, the studies, the owlery, and even the kitchens, Ginny had yet to locate Ashlyn. Finally resolving to go do some work, she was leaving the Great Hall when something seemed to tug at her train of thoughts from her memories. She stopped and looked around the Entrance Hall, her mind trying hard to remember something very important. Her view swept over to a dimly lit corridor that seemed to disappear, blending with the stones of the walls around it.
Ginny started towards it, remembering Ashlyn had showed her the hidden room down the corridor and behind the tapestry of Rhea the Warlock fighting Kaactyli the serpentine dragon of Gloor.
Her heart was pounding in her ears as she drew back the tapestry and opened the door. Inside, the room was dark and she fumbled to find her wand before she was able to light it up. Ginny looked around at the simple enough seeming study, her eyes met the bookcase and she cried as a sharp pain cracked through her head like lightening. She dropped to her knees, an image burned briefly into her eyelids, a memory of this room.
Riddle had been here himself, this is where he had made the Diary, and opening her eyes, Ginny knew that all the books he had used were not ten feet from her.
Trepidation hit her like a train with the first step she took. She was dealing with the younger form of You-Know-Who. And by looking through his books and notes, and performing a spell that he once used for dark purposes…what would that make of her? Of course, there was always the alternative: Living a life with Tom forever a part of her mind and soul. With that thought, her resolve hardened, and she knew that she had to go through with this.
Ginny had sat shifting through Riddle's papers for nearly an hour, and it had become clear that he had not used any of the spells they held. Instead, throughout several notebooks he had created his own spell. His lab journal documented his progress over two years. She could not help but notice that his handwriting was just as elegant in his research as it was when he had written to her last year.
Looking over the final version of the spell, Ginny realized just how advanced the magic and potion was. She bit on her lip thoughtfully as she read over the material list, her eyes spotting 'Dried petals of Nüna', 'Saliva of matured Manticore', and 'one vial of subject's blood – approx. 60 ml'.
Discouraged, Ginny was trying to think of how she could get to Knockturn Alley in order to find all of these rare supplies, when a small chest on the bottom shelf caught her attention. She could not understand how she had not seen it earlier, but settled on the fact that it had previously just blended with the shadows. After pulling it out, Ginny had a very suspecting feeling that Riddle had actually left what he had used in this very trunk.
Just as her fingers had begun to push the top open, her stomach admitted a very unladylike growl. She jumped at the noise, the intense atmosphere of the room became suddenly comical, and Ginny slapped her forehead in frustration.
"Don't tell me," she said before glancing at her wristwatch. "Quarter of ten, that's just great."
She regretfully put everything away again, knowing that it would not be safe to the leave the materials lying all over. Ashlyn knew about this room, and who could say how many others knew as well? The next visit down here she would dedicate to labeling and checking the small inventory Riddle had left.
Ginny poked her head out from behind the tapestry and checked to see if the coast was clear. She sighed at the empty hallway and started furtively heading out to the Great Hall. Her shoes echoed loudly, and decided it would be best if you took them off. In her stockings, she slipped over the glossy floors of the Great Hall silently. She controlled fits of giggles as she took a running start and slid down the long hallway.
She was doing this on the second floor landing as well, when she heard, "Aha, I caught you! We've got 'em now my sweet! This'll be detention for you!" Filch's voice rang through the hallway gleefully.
Ginny's shoulders dropped. All work and no play. With her head bowed and her shoes still in her hands, she shamefully turned to see Filch and Mrs. Norris hobbling nearer. Her mouth opened to mumble an apology, but another voice beat her to it.
"I am sorry, Mr. Filch, but that will not be necessary." Ginny looked up, standing beside her was Professor Dumbledore. She gaped at how he had simply appeared out of thin air.
Filch looked as if he had something particularly rotten shoved under his nose. He grunted something incoherent and shrank away down another corridor.
"Professor, I can explain―" Ginny began, but Dumbledore held a hand to stop her. She took to looking at the floor.
"Points will be taken from Gryffindor, but I do trust that you are out after hours for a good reason," he said, looking at her over his half-moon spectacles.
"Yes."
"Is there anything you would like to tell me, Miss Weasley?" They had started walking to Gryffindor tower.
"Well, I don't know where to start, but I trust Professor Snape and Professor Lupin have been informing," Ginny rather asked it.
"Quite, but they are not you."
"I've been doing my own research…about the spell Riddle used to make the Diary." She was hesitant to continue.
Dumbledore nodded his head thoughtfully. He offered her a lemon drop before popping one into his mouth. They continued walking in silence, until "And what have you found?"
"I haven't found much yet." The lie slipped right out of her mouth without any effort. Ginny was mildly unsettled at that. "All I've come to so far is that it was some sort of derivative of the spell a painter uses while creating a portrait."
"I see…and that is all?" Dumbledore did not look at her while he asked this, but just kept casually staring ahead of them as they walked.
"That is all," Ginny said automatically. Guilt clawed at her insides as the words left her lips.
"Ginevra, I must ask you, even with your current condition, that you take special care to be safe. We do, after all, have a murderer on the loose," Dumbledore said delicately as they reached Sir Cadogan.
"I understand, sir, this won't happen again." Ginny said thank you and bid the Headmaster goodnight, before retreating into the tower. She had full intent on going straight to her room, but at the sight of Ron and Hermione sitting miserably in front of the fire, she changed her mind.
"Hey Ron," she greeted as she walked over. He grunted in response, and Hermione offered her a small smile. Ginny was at a lost as to why they were both so dismal, until she remembered Harry. "Heard anything from Madame Pomfrey about Harry?"
"He'll be let out of the infirmary Monday. Hopefully," Ron mumbled unhappily. He was quiet for a moment more until he suddenly jumped forward, looking chipper. He smiled at Ginny, "Why don't you make Harry a card, Gin. That would be great!"
Her cheeks immediately flushed. "G― give Harry a card?"
"Yea, you could make one for him. He'd love it!" Ginny blushed a deeper shade of pink, and then nodded her head obediently. Ron looked as though a refusal would crush him.
"Making him a card will be fun. I'll go get to it then," she said quietly, still at a slight lost. Ron bounced his head up and down enthusiastically at her.
"I know a spell to make it sing too," Hermione spoke up, catching some of Ron's fervor. "Wouldn't that just be lovely?"
"Uh, sure," Ginny turned to head up the staircase, but was surprised to find that Hermione was running to catch up with her. "What's up?"
The older girl lowered her voice, becoming suddenly serious, "I think we need to talk, Ginny. Let's go to my room."
Ginny followed Hermione to the third year's room, and sat next to her on her bed. Hermione drew the canopy and cast a silencing charm. Ginny widened her eyes in question. "I guess that's a nifty spell to know…"
"It is," Hermione said and folded her legs under her comfortably. She watched as Ginny did the same, and smiled reassuringly. "Ginny, I realize that this time of year can be very hectic for everyone. I am buried in work myself, and you likely are too. You just seem very stretched lately, and after last year, I just don't want to overlook anything."
Ginny refrained from awkwardly wringing her hands. She looked at the sincere expression lighting Hermione's face, "You're right."
"Oh." Hermione's face fell slightly. "Where do you go Thursday evenings?"
"What do you mean? I study in the Library. Of course, I know that you're here with Ron and Harry in the common rooms most evenings," Ginny said. "I guess you wouldn't know that I go to the Library."
"I go to the Library every night," Hermione said, donning a semi-hurt look.
Ginny could have sworn that Ron always asked for help with his homework in the evenings.
Hermione noticed Ginny's face and quickly amended, "After I help Ron, of course. Just, the point is, I wonder whether you are all right sometimes. Are you…lonely this year?"
"No. I'm fine, thank you," Ginny answered, suddenly not wanting to have this conversation. "If you must know, I am in the Dungeons some evenings. Professor Snape gives me extra lessons because I am at a higher level than the other students in my year."
"That's it?" Ginny nodded her head. "How are your other classes?"
"They are going very well."
"How's Ron treating you?"
"Like I don't exist when he doesn't want to see me, of course," Ginny said this without thinking, but realized how very true it was. She lowered her voice, "Ron acts like he cares, but I feel like he doesn't even know me."
Hermione pulled Ginny into a hug, "He loves you Ginny, no matter how thick he is. I care for you as well! You are like the sister that I have always wanted. If you ever have something on your mind and would like to share it with a person who cares, I am here and will do my very best to help you."
Flattered though she was, Ginny could not put her heart behind her response, "Thanks Hermione, if I ever do need help, I'll find you."
"Great, I'm glad we had this talk. Now, go get to work on that card!" Hermione said goodnight, and Ginny retreated to her room.
That night, she was up past midnight making the Get Well Soon card for Harry. She even found herself enjoying it after a while. She decorated it with glitter and even scented the paper of vanilla. The only downside was the song charm, which Ginny just could not get right. Her skills in Flitwick's class added up to zilch when it came to doing this one spell. Though slightly disappointed in herself, she blushingly gave the card to Harry the next morning.
ooo
November passed like the flutter of a snitch's wing, and before Ginny knew it, a very wet December had arrived at Hogwarts. The end of term was approaching, and it was the last Herbology class that had the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw second years walking down to the greenhouses. Ginny had shuffled out of the Dining Hall behind her classmates, her mind reeling over Implimency lessons from the previous week. Ginny's defenses were nonexistent, and Snape was able to infiltrate her mind over and over. Though he never used it on her as long as he did the first lesson, Snape could do nothing more than hit her repeatedly with the spell and hope she would begin to build a form of resistance.
"You do know that you are walking past Greenhouse 7?"
Ginny stopped in her tracks at the interruption. She blinked and blushed, "Hello, Luna."
Luna Lovegood gave a vague smile and walked into the appropriate greenhouse. Ginny turned around, followed, and sat next to Luna just as Professor Sprout entered. The Professor explained that today they would be transplanting and cropping Spotted Bubu plants. The students diligently set to work, conversations popping up amongst partners.
Ginny looked up at Luna, a question sitting tentatively at the tip of her tongue. Finally, it just jumped, "Luna, I know that this is personal for you, but back in September, what happened with the Hollow Bog Box?"
Luna continued gently prying the Bubu from its pot, but titled her head thoughtfully, "My father is editor to a magazine, The Quibbler, that deals with proving the improvable."
Ginny glanced at Luna's ribbons in her hair, and nodded for her to continue.
"He's brilliant, because he has a wonderful insight to the world that only my mother shared with him." ―Luna gently placed the Bubu in a new pot― "He would come up with amazing, sometimes abstract theories, and my mother would run experimental spells trying to prove them." ―she clipped a few dying leaves absently― "Dad, after paying a visit to the Ministry of Magic, became convinced that there was a mass of unnatural fire demons being stowed away as the Minister's private army." ―she sprayed the stem with an Anti-Flubberworm potion― "Of course, the Minister denied the 'ludicrous' accusations. So, Dad suggested for Mom to try to perform a Summoning with him. It failed, and Mom died in the resulting explosion. Since then, I have always had a fear of Heliopaths, the fire-demons," Luna said in an abrupt conclusion.
Ginny's mouth was hanging open in mortification, "I had no idea. I'm so sorry, Luna."
"Don't apologize, I know Mom isn't gone," Luna said sincerely. She grabbed another Spotted Bubu, looking at Ginny sideways. "What are you afraid of, Ginny?"
"Wha― what am I afraid of?" Ginny had not been expecting Luna to ask this, and was stumped as for what to say. She bit her lip and concentrated on her work for a moment. "I don't know how to answer, honestly."
"Talking about your fears may make it easier for you to face them."
"I'll be facing my fears soon enough, I suppose," Ginny knew it was vague, but Luna nodded her head anyhow, her lemon-wedge earrings dancing with the movement.
ooo
Ginny had spent so many hours in the hidden study preparing Riddle's spell that the first snow fell without her even noticing. Instead, she had been stuck inside doing countless preparations; cutting up poisonous scorpion tails, making dust of dried Nüna petals, and boiling the heartstring of a fetal dragon.
She was a sort of overworked-student-zombie, having barely enough energy left for classes. Snape had given up on her during the Implimency lessons, saying that the Gryffindor incompetence must have finally caught up to her. McGonnagal approached her one afternoon, worried about an uncharacteristically low mark Ginny had received on an essay. Professor Lupin talked to her after class, explaining how he was concerned about her lack of participation in class discussions.
Ginny was working meticulously on her latest Transfiguration essay in the common room, when a strange noise and sudden burst of light made her jump in her seat. She looked up to find Colin, or rather Colin's camera lens, staring at her.
"You look haunted, Gin," he said plainly and snapped another shot. "Your expression is amazing, quite beautiful to be honest."
Ginny smiled and blushed. She had been about to complain to him for bothering her, but the compliment stopped her. Colin had always found her a good subject for his portfolio, but he had not said anything like that to her before. In fact, there was maybe one other person who had ever told her she was beautiful, but she liked to think that it never happened.
The camera snapped again, its purple smoke snaking into the air around Ginny lazily.
"Care to share what's troubling you?" Colin asked, sizing her up for another shot.
"Just work," she said, smiling for the picture.
She saw Colin frown from behind his camera, "Bugger. If you, the smartest witch in our year, is worrying about work, then the rest of us must be doomed!"
"Oh, you know that's not true," Ginny laughed at the flattery and smirked. "I'm the smartest witch in the entire school."
Colin lowered his camera and laughed. His smile faded slightly, though. "Is it really just work that's getting you down? You seem so distracted lately. I remember you acting this way last year, before the…the…"
"Thanks for your concern," she said sincerely, "But it's nothing like that, I'm fine."
"If you say so," Colin said as she turned back to her work. He watched as she absentmindedly bit on her lip. The worried movement was endearing, and he took one last picture.
o oo
As the last week term came into reach, Ginny was happily looking forward to a nearly empty Castle, which would make things easier for the spell she was dutifully preparing.
Then, it came.
Her parents owled Ginny on the last Tuesday of term, saying how she was to come home for Christmas holiday. There was no getting out of it for her, which meant she had less than a week to complete the spell. She could risk bringing all the materials home, but knew that the probability of something going missing or wrong was too high to take a chance.
It was for that reason Ginny found herself kneeling on the stone floor of the study Sunday evening, preparing the final steps for the completion of the spell. Thirty-three ingredients were brewing in the brass cauldron before her. Next to the cauldron was the diary replica, lying open to the first page. In her hands was a vial of blood, the last thing she was to add to the burgundy liquid in front of her.
Her hands were shaking as she popped the cork off the vial's top. The crimson blood slipped off the glass too quick, in Ginny's opinion. The potion bubbled and turned a brutal shade of purple before darkening into black.
"Delego Animus Cruento Necto," Ginny quietly started chanting the words.
Her mouth kept repeating the spell as she watched the potion viciously churn and fume. The cauldron was shaking, an eerie glow overcoming it. She watched, transfixed as the diary too, began to look pearly as well. The words kept leaving her, steadily getting louder as her fear increased. Ginny swore the ground beneath her was trembling with energy. Very dark energy, and she realized the air was pulsing with it.
Ginny watched as the potion shrank deep into the cauldron. She stopped chanting the spell, and wondered if it was over, or if she had messed it up somehow. Suddenly, a phantom hand reached out ferociously from within the cauldron and delved deep into her chest. She screamed in pain, her body twitching in agony at the fiery fingers aggressively rummaging through her heart and soul. The hand found what it was looking for and yanked.
Ginny fell forward and rolled on her side, her arms trying to grab the hand out of her. It clawed at something that had very firmly attached itself to her heart, but finally tore free from within her chest. She watched, breathless, as the ethereal hand wrenched a haunting shadow out of her torso and leapt with it into the diary.
Instantly, the room ceased to shake and the air thinned. Ginny's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she passed out.
The diary shook violently, and seemed to exhale before falling still on the ground once more.
ooo
Author's note: NO, Tom and the OC, Ashlyn, will NOT be having an affair or anything (:all the readers sigh in relief:). That little scene is there for a reason, though. Mmmk? Most things in my story happendon't happen for a reason, hopefully. I don't know, I'm not that smart. Anyhow, I haven't finished Chapter six, which I am upset about. Usually I like to have two chapters done before I post another. I just felt that it has been too long since an update, so yea. I don't want to form a habit though. This chapter seems to be so short….
Garnet Til Alexandros XIII: Loved your review, I wrote so much here, though, that I just emailed you my response.
Ciardra: Thank you so much! You'll just have to put things together for Ashlyn, or wait to find out. )
If ANYONE has any questions like 'why's there such a random, whiny OC' or anything else, I would LOVE to answer them as best I can. It makes me happy to know that people pay such close attention and care to know things I don't elaborate about in the story!