Chapter Six Nightmares
"No, no, no, no," Ginny moaned, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around her stomach. She shook her head in denial, not wanting to believe Tom Riddle was still with her.
Still in her.
Her stomach rolled again and she leaned away from the mess, resting her forehead on the floor. She wanted to lie down. It would be so easy. All she needed to do was lean over and let gravity take her to the floor. The cold stone would ease the fire in her cheeks. Her body started to fall and then--
"Miss Weasley!" Madam Pomfrey rushed to her side, and Ginny jerked her head up. Madam Pomfrey placed her hand to Ginny's forehead and with a quick flick of the wand in her other hand, the mess on the floor vanished.
"I'm so sorry," Ginny said her voice catching as a sob broke free. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve covering her hand as she looked up at the nurse.
Madam Pomfrey helped her to her feet and looked into her eyes. "It will be okay, Miss Weasley."
"I need…I need to go," Ginny said, trying to pull her arm from Madam Pomfrey's grasp. All she wanted to do was run away. Where could she go? Somewhere far away from everyone, somewhere she could hide. Would one of the towers be empty now? Yes, hiding would be good. There was so much she didn't understand, so much running through her mind and she felt more than anything the need to be alone. She needed to think. She needed to make sense of everything that had transpired in the last few minutes.
"Don't be ridiculous," Madam Pomfrey admonished gently.
"I can't," Ginny gasped and shook her head. Her stomach heaved again, but there was nothing else left. Every nerve ending in her body tingled. Her emotions were so frayed and she worried she could break at any time. The skin under her clothes felt too small for her body and her breath was coming out in silent gasps. How could this be happening to her again?
"Oh yes, you can," Madam Pomfrey said as she steered Ginny to a bed alongside the sleeping girl. A glass of water appeared on the bedside cabinet and Ginny stared at it, realizing her throat was sore. The nurse waved her wand towards a large armoire in the corner of the room and the lower drawer opened. A long white nightgown rose from the basket, flying to the end of the bed and folded itself neatly upon the spread. "Change into this shift and get into bed. I'll be right back with an anti-nausea potion. You are looking quite peaked, Miss Weasley; you'll not be going back to Gryffindor Tower this evening."
Ginny nodded her head slowly in defeat and raised her shirttail up to wipe her face. The rain pounded against the windows, the constant beat deafening in the silence of the ward. She kicked her trainers off and with trembling hands, unbuttoned her shirt and jeans. She pulled the white cotton nightgown over her head and leaned on the bed to pull off her shoes and socks.
Distracted by her thoughts, she dragged a hand through her hair, pulling out the elastic band holding it back. She sat down on the end of the bed and reached for the glass of water, the liquid sloshing over her fingers and into her lap as she brought it to her mouth. Drinking deeply, the cool water slid down her throat and extinguished the fire in her stomach.
Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtain to her bed as Ginny was putting the empty glass back and handed her a smoking goblet. "Drink this down. It may make you feel a bit queer, but that's how you'll know its working. Then I want you to lie down and sleep. No arguments, understood?"
Ginny nodded as she pulled her legs up on the bed and sat tailor fashion. Criss cross applesauce, a little voice in her head sang and she resisted the urge to giggle. It would sound horrible if she freed it, the nervous laugh of a mad teenager. She wrapped her hands around the warm cup and shivered. It was so cold in here. Her skin tightened and goose pimples broke out along her arms and legs. Taking a deep breath, she drank from the cup. The concoction was bitter and it burned as it went down, hitting her belly with a dull slosh. The effect of it spread from her stomach to her extremities, warming her from the inside out. She handed the goblet back to Madam Pomfrey.
The wooden doors to the infirmary banged open and Draco Malfoy strode in. Madam Pomfrey jumped and turned towards the door, instinctively hiding her patient behind her back. Ginny's eyes grew wide as he stopped in the aisle not far from her bed. He stared at her. "You!" he hissed. He was almost back to normal, except for a pair of antennae flailing around his forehead.
"You did this to me!" He growled, reaching into his robes for his wand. He stalked a few more steps towards her. Ginny scrambled up to the head of the bed and reached for her wand on the cabinet. She missed and the wand clattered to the floor. Diving onto her stomach for it, she pumped her legs to bring her a few more inches closer to the floor. Ginny needed her wand, there was no way she was facing Malfoy without it. The wand whirled under her fingers before she flipped it into her hand. She came up and kneeled on the bed, pointing her wand at him from behind Madam Pomfrey's back.
"Mr. Malfoy!" Madam Pomfrey said, her face turning red with anger. "How dare you come into my room that way? Put that wand away right this instant! You will respect my patients and I or you will turn around and deal with those antennae protruding from your forehead alone!"
Draco stopped and crossed his arms at his chest. His mouth curled into a smile with a cynical, cruel twist to it. "Oh, show respect should I? To that Weasley," he spat as he motioned at her with his wand, "who hexed me into this insect?"
"Is this true, what he said?" Madam Pomfrey turned back to Ginny and jumped in surprise. "For goodness sake, Miss Weasley! Put down that wand immediately! What has gotten into you students lately?"
Ginny slowly lowered her arm and looked up at Madam Pomfrey. "Now, is this true what he says? Did you hex him?"
Ginny nodded as she settled back down into a sitting position on the bed, and pulled her knees under the shift to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs but held onto her wand.
"Have a seat, Mr. Malfoy, I'll deal with you in a moment," Madam Pomfrey said shortly before she turned back to Ginny and quietly asked, "What hex did you use? I need to know, if I am to help him."
"Accresco Cimex," Ginny said defiantly as she watched Malfoy sit down on the bed across from her. He stared at her and his eyes burned with dislike. The foot long feelers were still moving around his head and he raised a hand to flick them away from his eyes. "Must he be right there, across from me?"
"Accresco -- Miss Weasley! Where have you learned such a hex? I must say that you, Miss are in no position to decide where Mr. Malfoy decides to sit. I will have to report this breach of magic to your Head of House, do you understand? You of all people I would have expected better from," Madam Pomfrey said as she flicked her wand towards the curtains on Ginny's bed. The sound of metal scraping on metal filled the quiet room as the curtain closed around her bed and Ginny pulled her legs out from under the nightgown.
"I will be right back, Mr. Malfoy. I just need to fetch my snippers," Madam Pomfrey said from the other side of the curtain. Ginny knew the nurse could have just summoned them, but where was the fun in that? Madam Pomfrey was very good at allowing you to wait and squirm if you displeased her in any way.
"Your snippers?" Draco cried from the other side of the curtain. "What are you going to do? Cut them off? Is it going to hurt?"
Ginny stifled another maniacal giggle with her fist as she put her wand back on the cabinet. Sliding off the bed so she could pull the covers back, a shiver ran through her body as soon as her bare feet hit the cold floor. It felt as if someone had hit her with the Jelly Legs Jinx. She cast a suspicious look at the curtain, knowing Malfoy and his wand lay just on the other side. She wouldn't put it past him to hex her when she couldn't defend herself.
The quivering sensations continued. The feverish tingling in her body from before increased in intensity and began to feel a bit more pleasant. It coursed through her body from head to toe, making her sway unsteadily on her feet. Whoa, she thought. Is this what it feels like to drink a case of butterbeer?
She heard her mother's voice in her ear as if she were standing right behind her. "Ginerva Weasley. Are you drunk?"
Well yes Mum, as a matter of fact, I think I am.
She brought the back of her hand up to rest on her hot forehead. What had she been so worried about before? Closing her eyes, she shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs overtaking her vision. She ran her fingers down her face, and then did it again, fascinated with the trail of feeling they left. She knew she had to stop and get into bed and go to sleep. When she turned to crawl back into bed her left foot knocked into her right ankle and she lost her balance. Her hand lashed out and grabbed the curtains to keep her from falling.
The curtain slid open as she fell backwards onto the floor. Her teeth clicked together painfully as her bum hit the cold stone. Of course Malfoy was watching her, an evil smirk spreading over his face.
"If you think I'm going to help you, you're mistaken," he said as he sneered at her plight.
Ginny waved a hand at him dismissively. "I don't need your help," she said, and realized her words were slurring. It'll make me feel a bit queer, eh? Her stomach was certainly no longer bothering her. Well, she was having trouble feeling anything from the chest down, so a stomachache was a moot point. She pushed herself back to her feet and looked over at Malfoy. The feelers protruding from his head were gliding gracefully around his head. She tilted her head to the side, watching them move, fascinated.
"What are you doing?" Malfoy said in disgust.
Ginny broke her gaze away and pulled the bed sheets back. Her eyes were so heavy. She needed to get into bed right that very instant or she'd fall over again and sleep on the floor. "You know, Draco," she said as she reached for the pillow, accidentally knocking it to the floor. Her hair fell into her face as she bent to pick it up. Why had everything gone so blurry? After a couple of tries she finally had the pillow clutched between her fingers and she flung it back to the head of the bed. Her hair was still in her face. It took a few tries to move it from obscuring her view of Malfoy and even then she was still blowing random strands of copper out of her mouth.
"What?" He asked, not bothering to hide his amusement at her fumbling. He leaned back on the pillows, crossing his black clad legs at the ankles.
"It's a shame you're so miserable all the time," she said as crawled very unlady-like into the bed and pulled the covers up over her.
"It's a shame I'm what?" Malfoy asked his voice far away. It didn't matter. He didn't matter. All that mattered was how good the bed and the covers felt right then. She fell back against the pillows and instantly sank into the goose down. It was heavenly. Her words were now slurring worse then before. "Your looks are completely wasted on a rotten and miserable git like you."
If he heard her, she had no idea.
She fell into a dreamy reality, not unlike the one she had just parted from.
Once she was clothed in the long white night gown, she crawled into the bed alongside the strange girl. Her stomach was rolling, and her head was spinning. She was having difficulty taking deep breaths, and if she wasn't careful, she was going to hyperventilate. Madam Pomfrey had tucked the blankets around her and left for a moment, letting her know she would be right back with an anti-nausea potion. When she returned, Ginny drank it down and fell back against the pillows. All she wanted to do was escape from Tom Riddle's memory she had seen a few minutes ago.
What was she going to do? Her eyelids were becoming so heavy. Would she have to combat Tom again? She was no longer a scrawny eleven year-old, and she felt stronger. What would she have to do to make him leave her alone once and for all? Would she have the strength to fight him on her own?
There was a soft sound from the other side of the curtain. She turned her head to the sound, listening for it again. Finally, after a moment, she decided it was nothing. She rolled over to her side and gasped in fright. The girl from the next bed was standing in front of her bedside table, fingering Ginny's wand. Her long pale hair hung in her face, hiding it from view.
"Oi," Ginny said, sitting up in bed. "What do you think you're doing with that?"
The girl turned to her face her and Ginny frantically pushed the covers away to scramble from the bed. In her haste, her foot became entangled in the blankets and she fell to the floor. She lay sprawled there for a moment, trying to steady her rapid breathing; not wanting to believe what she saw was real. Ginny stood slowly and faced the girl with the protection of the bed between them.
The girl looked like a black and white painting, brush stroked with vivid color in certain areas to highlight importance. Her blue eyes were wide and bright, shiny with unshed tears. They were shockingly vibrant against the smudged outline of heavy brown shadows underneath them. Pale hair and skin gave her the translucent appearance of a ghost. The space between her nose and mouth was marred by spots of inflamed red skin and a bruised sea of purple spread upwards to her cheeks.
Oh Merlin, Ginny thought as she swayed on her feet. Someone had, someone had…someone had sewn her mouth shut.
The girl opened her mouth to speak, the heavy black thread tore through the skin and crimson bled down her chin.
Ginny screamed—
Her eyes flew open. She brought her hand up to her chest and rested it there, feeling the rapid rise and fall as her breathing slowed. It had been a dream. Thankfully, it was nothing more then a nightmare.
Only a few minutes must have passed as she could hear Madam Pomfrey and Malfoy arguing about the removal of the feelers on his head from the other side of the curtain. She slowly closed her eyes and almost immediately her hand fell from her chest to the bed as she slipped back into sleep
Tones of umber and moss filled the forest, and the burgeoning shadows were a dusky, whispery purple as the red and gold sun set to the west. The copse was alive all around her with birds calling to one another from the top of the silhouetted trees. She smiled at the sounds of their song. She belonged here, lived here, was loved here.
This forest was old. The tops of oak and pine trees towered above her, their great heights dizzying to look at. As she passed them by, she reached out to touch each one, the rough edges of their bark biting into the soft flesh of her palms. The brambles and underbrush moved aside, none snaring her flowing skirts as she passed.
She had the sense of them, the spirits of the woods. They were present in every leaf and needle, falling in showers to the earth before her. They crackled under her bare feet, a living carpet for her to walk upon. She took a deep breath, tasting the scent of moss and decaying leaves on her tongue. She wanted to drink it down, and hungered for more.
She threw her arms out wide and twirled in a circle, her skirts and hair flying like a rippling flag in the wind. Faster and faster she spun, the sky and trees blurring until she fell to the ground, her mind spinning.
The sun dropped further in the sky, and the shadows all around her grew long. Soon the sun would slip beneath the horizon and the Twilight King would appear where the depth of shadows dropped into blackness. The forest quieted around her.
She folded her hands in her lap, and bowed her head. Long red hair fell over her shoulder, covering her entwined fingers.
The dying sun cast one last ray through the trees, lighting on her bowed head. The halo around her head shimmered like liquid fire.
The shadows along the trees opened, and at last she heard his approach.
An indescribable feeling that she had grown accustomed to coursed through her young body. This was not her first meeting with the Twilight King, and it would not be her last. She was amazed to realize she loved being here with him, on the brink of falling into the endless dark.
It was he she had grown to love.
Then he was standing above her, offering his hand and she took it, a shiver flowing through her body at his touch. She rose to meet his gaze.
They stared at one another in the gathering gloom, knowing at once when it was fully dark they would be parted. Their time together was always so brief.
At last she smiled up at him, her lover, his hand tightening around her much smaller one. His other hand snaked into her hair and pulled her to him, her body falling against his solid warmth. She moaned and it was all the invitation he needed.
His mouth smashed down onto hers and she fought the urge to fall. She wanted all of him, to taste him, to devour him and he wanted the same. She could feel her lips bruising from the onslaught of his kisses, but she didn't mind. Too soon, he would push her away and all she would be left with was the swelling sensation of his mouth on hers.
She shouldn't be doing this. It was against the laws of the forest, but it was him, and it was her and their hearts beat in a frantic pulse together.
It was over before it had really begun. He was gone and dark shadows surrounded her. She found herself flung to the forest floor, her skirts in a heap around her.
The dream was changing as they are apt to do. Someone else was coming. The darkness approaching was alive, and it threatened to swallow her, if she allowed it. But it was also a darkness that could slither close to her feet and plant little kisses against the hem of her dress if she wished it. She was strong here; this was her place, not the intruder's.
She could hear his footsteps through the forest, and slowly she stood, turning to the sound. All around her the night sounds died away and the silence was deafening. The forest did not approve this new arrival, but could do nothing to stop it. It was coming for her, their favorite, and all the forest could do was watch.
"Hello, Ginerva," Tom Riddle smiled as he walked into the dark purplish light of twilight. "It's so nice to see you again."
Ginny nodded, her lips pursing into a frown. "Tom. I wish I could say the same."
"How long has it been?"
"Not long enough," Ginny said as she smoothed dead leaves and twigs from her skirt. "Why are you here?"
Tom's young and arrogantly handsome face broke into a wide grin. "My, you look quite stunning. Never would I have imagined you'd grow into such a beauty."
Ginny bared her teeth and hissed at him in anger, but it had no effect. He moved closer, picking up a strand of her hair to roll in between his fingers. "Where did you get all this beautiful hair, Ginerva?"
She slapped his hand away and moved away from him. "How dare you touch me," she said in a low voice. "As if I still belong to you. I never belonged to you."
Tom smiled and spread his hands wide. "I come to you unarmed. Let's not make a fuss, shall we?"
"What do you want, Tom?" Ginny asked through gritted teeth.
"I'm here to warn you against the girl currently sleeping beside you, of course. Her name is Adria. Such a pretty girl, almost as pretty as you." Tom turned and Ginny followed his line of sight to see that the bed with the sleeping girl had materialized in the forest. Vines wove through the metal frame, giving it the appearance of belonging to the glen.
Tom moved to the side of the bed and looked down at the girl. "Don't let her beauty fool you, Ginny. Underneath it lays a cold-hearted killer. She murdered her own brother, and she tried to murder a classmate of hers so long ago."
Ginny narrowed her eyes at Tom. "And you know this, why?" she asked.
Tom spoke without taking his eyes from the girl. "My benefactors were not amused when I opened up the Chamber of Secrets and allowed the Basilisk to roam the school. I was not playing along with the rules they had laid out for me. I would be the ruler of the wizarding world, as long as I listened to them of course. But I had other plans. I was not to be anyone's puppet. Oh, I was going to rule, but on my terms. I'm afraid my benefactors weren't very happy with me. They meant nothing to me. Their plans meant nothing to me. Their children who masqueraded as my friends meant nothing to me. I wanted immortality."
Leaves from the trees above rained down to cover the bed. Tom continued to stare at the girl. He reached out a hand towards her face and she whimpered, turning away in her sleep. "I think I could have fallen in love with her. But she was weak. She simpered and begged and I hate weakness. What a difference my life might have been if I had, right Ginerva? But think of all the fun I might have missed? I wanted to be the most feared wizard who ever lived. I wanted everyone to cower at the sound of my name."
"You accomplished that, Tom," Ginny said as she placed her hands on her hips. Amazingly, she felt an acute lack of fear of Tom in this place.
"Oh, yes. I did, didn't I? But then there was that boy, one little boy who destroyed all of my plans. I remember now. He's your Twilight King, Harry Potter," Tom spat.
"And he'll defeat you again, this time for good."
Tom looked up at Ginny and a shiver ran down her back. Did his eyes flash red? Her hands dropped from her waist. "Will he? You never stopped loving him, have you Ginerva? Has he noticed you yet?" He smiled cruelly. "No, of course he hasn't. Who are you to him, Ginny Weasley? You're no one, according to your love, Harry Potter."
Her hands curled into fists so tight, her fingernails cut into her palms. "Why are you here? You tried to kill me, remember?"
"Oh, yes. I remember. But let's not dwell on the past, shall we, Ginerva? You must never let this girl find her tongue. I thought I banished her to Hell. If this spell is broken, Hell will come to Hogwarts."
Ginny fought impatience and to cover it, she shrugged saying, "Why should I believe any word you say to me? Tom Riddle, master of lies."
Something flickered deep in Tom's eyes and as he smiled at her. Ginny shivered again and this time she felt fear. "Because you were mine, once," his tongue flicked briefly between his lips.
"And I still remember how your fear tastes."
Ginny moaned in her sleep, her body bathed in sweat. She kicked the blankets down, rolling over onto her side.
Whose bedroom was she in? Not hers, this wasn't the Burrow; it was too nice.
Shame flushed her freckled cheeks and she looked around the room, jealousy tightening her chest. Flowered draperies hung from the large windows, and a comfortable-looking window seat was tucked into a corner. Pale pink and green striped wallpaper hung on the walls behind portraits of old-fashioned women lazily fanning themselves on beaches or lunching in colorful meadows. The windows were positioned to catch the sun and bright light streamed through the windows, warming the carpet under her feet. The smell of fresh flowers lingered in the air. The four-poster bed tucked between two windows was covered with a pink duvet and scattered with colorful pillows. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and the mantle above it was lined with black and white photographs.
She was here for a specific reason that eluded her at the moment. But she had no worries, maybe it would return while she explored.
Ginny walked over to the fireplace, clutching her toes on the plush carpet. It was so decadently soft under her bare feet. The people in the first picture smiled elegantly against a back drop of a garden. Two adults with two small children in their laps sat with their arms wrapped around the children. They pointed to the camera and the little girl waved, while the older boy struggled to be free from his father's grasp.
Such a happy family, Ginny thought with a smile as she looked at them. Another frame was filled with a young girl, who was staring adoringly at an older boy as he picked her up and swung her around and around until they both grew dizzy and fell to the ground. Another was a family portrait, the four subjects older this time and smiling at the camera. In yet another, the girl, who looked to be in her early teens, sat on a swing and smiled secretively at the photographer before throwing her head back towards the sky. Her legs pumped to and fro until she swung herself out of the frame. The final picture on the mantle was of the boy from the earlier picture. He looked older then Ginny now and stared out of the frame, his eyes on Ginny as she picked it up to examine it closer.
He smiled at her and Ginny found herself smiling back. He was very handsome. She reached a finger to touch the glass when there was a sudden pounding at the door. Ginny dropped the picture, and it smashed against the flagstones. She winced in pain as a piece of the shattered glass sliced her leg.
The pounding on the door continued, increasing in sound and ferocity. There was so much force behind the hammering sound, Ginny it was sure it was going to break at any moment. She backed away from the door, realizing the room had rapidly grown dark.
She was there for a reason; there was something here, something she needed to find. Where was it, where could she have hidden it? The frame of the door began to splinter behind her. What did you do with it? She shouted to the empty room. But it was too late. With one final heave, the door broke open. The monster was coming. Ginny dived under the bed. She had to hide; she couldn't let it find her.
She knocked her head on the crossbeams under the bed and a leather bound book fell in front of her face. Ginny knew she had found what she had come for. She reached back as far as she could and tucked the book in the waistband of her trousers at the small of her back.
The sound of ragged breathing filled the room, and the floor quivered as the monster stalked into the room. Ginny breathed shallowly through her mouth, hoping whatever was above her could not hear the frantic beating of her heart.
Something cold and clammy grasped her ankle and began to pull her from her hiding place. Ginny mewled in fear. If saw it, she knew she was going to die. She clawed at the plush carpet, grasping for purchase as kicked back at the hands, crying out in pain as the rug burnt her exposed stomach.
The monster pulled her free from under the bed and she -
Awoke with a shudder in the hospital wing.
Was she dreaming still? She didn't know if she could trust this reality to be any different from the dream one she had been in earlier. Feeling strangely lifted from her body, she pinched her arm, sighing in relief at the sharp, sudden pain. She lay in the semi-darkness, feeling uncertain of where the line between the dream world and the real world ended. A swimmer was what she felt like, skimming the surface of the water with even strokes, gliding between the reflections of reality on the smooth liquid surface above the un-reflected dream world below.
She stared at the vaulted stone ceiling above her and listened to the sound of the rain reverberating on the roof above. Shifting in the bed, she could almost feel as if she was lying on something.
What did those dreams mean? All she could remember from them was a whirlwind of color and emotion, and even now they were fading from her memory like wisps of smoke.
There was so much she didn't understand. Her mind shied away from the first two dreams, causing her to examine the final one. She had been so frightened, and she had been hiding under something. Was there a quill in her hand? A book in front of her? Had she been looking for something? What had she been hiding from? She desperately tried to recall the last few fragments she remembered before awakening, but it was lost. She briefly closed her eyes, trying to remember.
She must have fallen asleep without realizing it and she felt a flash of relief that it had been dreamless. The voices alongside her bed weren't there just a moment ago. She opened her eyes a bit, not enough for them to notice she was awake, but enough for her to see who it was. It must have been late in the evening; the torches burned low in their brackets along the stone walls.
Ah, Ginny thought. I should have known who it was by their voices. Ron, Hermione and Harry were sitting on chairs between her and the girl. They were whispering furiously to one another and Ginny knew if she wanted them to continue freely, she would have to continue feigning sleep. She closed her eyes tightly and sighed as quietly as she could.
Although they were only a few feet from her, they might as well have been a million miles away.
"I wish Snape hadn't interrupted us," Ron was saying. "I would have liked to have asked Professor Dumbledore how he defeated Grindelwald in 1945."
"Do you really think he would have told us?" Hermione asked.
"He might have," Harry said. "He and Professor Dippet told us so much about everything else."
Hermione sighed. "I feel so horrible for her. I mean, can you imagine? It's like Professor Dumbledore said to Professor McGonagall. She returns after being missing for so long suffering from a horrible curse. She finds she's in a place she thought she knew, with nothing but strangers standing over her. Out of place and out of time. It's so tragic, really."
Her brother snorted.
"What?" Hermione whispered furiously. "You don't think having your family disappear around you and then being thrown forward in time isn't somehow tragic? I can't imagine going though half of what she has gone through!"
Ginny lifted her head on the pillow and looked behind her friends to see the girl still sleeping. Something was pulling at her memory. Something about the girl. What was it?
"I don't know," Ron whispered back. "It just seems so contrived somehow."
"Contrived how?"
Ginny watched as Ron waved his hand in the air away from Hermione. "I don't know. How do we know she wasn't part of it? How do we know her father wasn't a member of the Knights of Walpurgis? She gets kidnapped, her brother disappears forever and she's brought to Hogwarts for protection. What if that was Grindelwald's plan all along?"
Hermione made a noise in disgust. "How can you think that?"
"I don't know Hermione," Ron's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Maybe because every single time we try and figure these things out, we're always wrong. We think one way and it always turns out to be wrong!"
"No we don't!" Hermione spat back.
"We don't? Let's have a little history lesson here, shall we, Hermione? What about Snape and the Sorcerer's stone? And remember how sure we were Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin? He wasn't, was he? It was Tom Riddle who opened the Chamber of Secrets!"
Ginny's stomach gave another lurch and she stopped listening. It wasn't Tom who opened the Chamber of Secrets. She was the one who opened the chamber and now she was afraid she had never really gotten rid of him. That Tom Riddle was still alive somehow, in her.
She rolled over to her side away from them, not wanting them to see how pale her face had become. With his name the images he had shown her when she first entered the hospital wing came flooding back along with her dream. How could she have seen his memory? How could he be haunting her dreams? Tom did not want her curse to be lifted. He said she had been weak, but Ginny could sense no weakness in the girl. From the memory shown, Ginny knew Adria (Adria was her name!) hated Tom Riddle just from the look on her face when she followed him from the library. But if she hated him, then why did she go with him? She was so confused.
"Stop it," Harry said quietly as Hermione and Ron started to argue. "Ron's right. We do always jump to the wrong conclusions before we learn all the facts. We need to get some more information before we decide what to do. I still want to speak to Hagrid about her. I wish he hadn't been in the forest with Aragog after dinner. It would have been a perfect time to speak to him. How long do you think it'll be before the back issues of the Daily Prophet arrive?"
"I don't know," Hermione said, shrugging her shoulders. "A week, maybe?"
"Let's see what happens in a week, all right? Dumbledore said Bill is going to be here for the next few days, he might be able to break the curse and then we can hear what happened to Adria straight from her. I still have to somehow get that memory from Slughorn."
Ginny gave a start. Bill was here? She rolled back over and looked at them. Still none of them was watching her. All three of their eyes were on the back of Adria. Ginny lay there quietly until an image from her first dream overtook her. The girl's mouth had been sewn shut! She gasped and Harry turned his head and caught her watching him.
"Hello," he said with a slight smile. "Not feeling very well, huh?"
Hermione and Ron turned towards her. "All right, Ginny?" Ron asked.
Ginny nodded as she sat up a bit on her pillows. "It must have been something I ate," she lied smoothly even though her mind was in turmoil.
She didn't know what to do. She knew something about Adria, but how could she say without letting them know how she came about the information? When would Tom show himself again? Would he? How could he still be a part of her? She pulled the blankets up and over her shoulders, wrapping herself in the much-needed warmth.
"We should probably be going," Hermione said, looking pointedly at Ron. "We weren't even supposed to come here. We were on our way back from dinner when we heard you weren't feeling very well."
Ginny furrowed her brows. "Who told you I was here?"
Ron stood up, his face reddening with anger. "Malfoy," he spat. "We passed him in the hall. He had two big bandages on his forehead. Did you really hex him and his cronies with the Cockroach Crapper Hex?"
Ginny nodded, even though she felt like a completely different girl now. Ron threw back his head laughed, which caused the sleeping girl in the other bed to start in her sleep. Hermione cut him off with an elbow to the ribs.
"Ah, I wish I could have seen that! Fred and George would be so proud of you."
Ginny tried to smile, but she had a feeling it looked more like a grimace.
"Madam Pomfrey had to cut the antennae off. Be careful, Ginny. He's really angry with you." Hermione said.
"He won't go near my sister if he knows what's good for him," Ron said as he ground a fist into his other hand. Harry nodded his head in agreement.
How could she be worried about Draco Malfoy when she was afraid Tom Riddle still possessed her? Her teeth began to chatter. Her skin felt as if it was crawling with insects and she resisted the urge to rub her arms and legs.
"You don't look very good, Gin," Ron said. "Should we get Madam Pomfrey?"
Does she know how to exorcise a ghost? Ginny wanted to ask, but she only shook her head. "No, I'll be all right. I think I just need to sleep a bit more."
Harry and Hermione stood up next to Ron and said their good-byes. Ginny, the voice in head demanded. Talk to Harry! Tell him what happened! He'll know what to do!
Why was it so hard to say his name? They were walking to the double doors. Ginny struggled for a moment before she was able to say, "Harry, can I ask you something?"
Harry looked back at her and smiled. "Sure, Ginny," he said, turning back to Ron and Hermione. "I'll meet you in the common room in a few minutes, okay?"
They nodded and closed the doors to the hospital wing behind them. Harry came over and sat back down in the chair next to her. "I'm sorry you're not feeling very well."
"I'll be okay."
"You don't have to worry about Quidditch practice Monday night, if that's what you wanted to talk to me about," Harry said as he fiddled with a loose string on his jumper.
"Harry, I didn't ask you to hang back so we could talk about Quidditch," Ginny said more sharply then she intended. Her breathing became ragged as panic threatened to well up and break through the surface.
Harry looked taken aback by her outburst. "Oh," he said as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "Well, what's up then?"
"That girl," Ginny said as she nudged her blanket-covered foot at the other bed. "How did she get here?"
"We don't know."
"And the curse she's suffering from, what is it?"
Harry looked at her for a moment and Ginny was afraid he wasn't going to tell her. "I'm not a child anymore, Harry! Stop treating me like one," she said as a faint thread of hysteria rose in her voice. "I think I can, no," she said as she shook her head. "I know I can handle it. Tell me, Harry!"
"It's not that, Ginny. Not many people know, is all."
"Bill knows. I can't believe no one told me he's here."
"He came in to see you earlier, but you were asleep," Harry said.
"Oh," Ginny said softly. She began to pick at the pills on her blanket. She had to tell him, needed to tell him, but the words would not come. They ran together in her mind, over and over again. Tom Riddle, he's not gone, he's still here in my mind, help me, Harry, please help me. I don't think I can go through this again without you. You helped me once, and I'm so afraid--
"Her tongue is missing," Harry said and Ginny's head shot up.
Two pieces of a puzzle clicked together in her mind. Her dream, in her dream the girl's mouth had been threaded closed. It made sense now. She looked at Harry and then to the girl, watching the rise and fall of her back as she breathed in her sleep.
"I had a dream about her earlier," she said quietly. "I was here in bed and awoke to find her holding my wand. Only when she turned around to face me, her mouth was sewn together with heavy black thread."
Harry winced and Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "It wasn't a very nice dream"
"No, I wouldn't say so. But prophetic in a sense, since you didn't know who she was or what she was suffering from," Harry said as he shifted in his seat.
"I guess so." Now, her inner voice said. It's the perfect opening. Tell him what you saw! Tell him about Tom Riddle. Do it! Do it.
"Harry, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course," he said as he leaned back. She searched his face for a moment, his face momentarily overlapped by her memory of Henry. She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and bit down hard. "Are you okay?" he asked.
No, Harry. I'm not okay. I'm still in love with you and you think Dean and I are still a couple. I've been possessed by Tom Riddle again and I know that girl in the bed over there came from the past. I know because he showed me.
But she could not say that. All she did was nod her head. When she opened her mouth to speak, she was surprised by what she did say. "Last week in the common room when I awoke from my nap you were in the chair across from me, do you remember?"
Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at her uncertainly. "Um, yeah. I remember."
"When I woke up and asked you if I was snoring you looked like you were going to say something different before Crookshanks jumped on your lap. What were you going to say?"
Why was she asking him this? Why could she ask him about this and not tell him about Tom Riddle? What was she thinking? This wasn't nearly as important as telling him what happened to her.
But, but what was he going to say? Would he tell her the truth?
"I, uh," Harry looked very uncomfortable. "I don't remember."
"Oh," Ginny said, disappointment rushing through her. She was surprised at how hurt she felt; especially since she was positive he was lying. "Oh," she said again as she nodded her head and settled back down onto the pillow. "I'm sorry for bothering you."
"Ginny is everything --?"
"No, Harry. I'm really tired, okay?" She rolled over so she was facing away from him. She didn't want him to see the tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes and slowly rolled down to wet the pillow.
She could do this on her own. Ginny could deal with Tom Riddle by herself and if not, well then, she'd speak to Dumbledore. There was no reason at all to get Harry involved.
"Okay then," Harry said and she heard the chair scrape across the floor as he stood up behind her. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah," Ginny said thickly, her throat threatening to close around a sob. "See you tomorrow." A moment later, she could feel him pause for a minute before closing the doors behind him.
Harry stopped just outside the closed doors and leaned against them, suddenly unsure of what to do. Ginny had been trying to tell him something, something he wasn't sure he was ready to hear. But why had he lied to her? What harm could it have done to tell her he had been thinking of his mum and dad as he watched her sleep? The common room has been quiet that day, in the way of lazy Sunday afternoons. He had sat down in the chair, not realizing she was there. He thought he was alone, and it was a blessing really, one he wasn't able to afford often. She made a soft noise, a moan really, and Harry found his gaze drawn to her.
Annoyance momentarily coursed through him because he was afraid his moment of peace had been broken. But then he realized it was she who was sleeping. Instead of getting up and going to the dorm room, he stayed to watch her. She had become pretty, he noticed as his eyes played over her slightly irregular features. Why hadn't he realized it before? It might have been because he never allowed himself a moment to realize it. Harry was suddenly filled with an overwhelming urge to count the freckles on her nose. He had no words to describe what he felt as he watched her, so instead he listened to her breathing and watched her sleep. Could he have said her hair had glinted with the flickering of the flames, and it had almost seemed alive? He couldn't tell her that.
How could he have told her he had been thinking of his mum and dad while he was watching her sleep? How he wondered if his dad had ever watched his mum sleep in front of the fire like that?
Harry sighed and opened the door to peek in on her. She was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, her vibrant red hair completely covering the pillow underneath her head. Maybe something other then his response to her question was bothering her, he suddenly thought. And maybe, maybe if he hadn't lied, she would have told him. Suddenly he realized how much of a mistake he had made by not telling her the truth. He was about to go back into the room when Ginny rolled over and closed her eyes, clearly trying to go back to sleep.
Admittedly he knew he spent more time everyday wishing Dean and Ginny would break up. But he was also afraid of how to approach her if they ever did part. How could he tell Ginny the truth? How could he tell her about the pang of jealousy he felt in his midsection every time he had seen them together? How was he supposed to suddenly explain to her how he felt after avoiding her and her feelings towards him for so many years? How could he explain to her that while he was sitting there alongside of her in the Hospital Wing, he was wondering if her lips felt as soft as they looked.
He was going to have to do something about how he felt about Ginny soon. And if she was still seeing Dean, so be it. The monster inside of him rearing its ugly head every time she came near him was not going to be denied for much longer. And if Ron didn't approve, well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
Harry pulled the door shut quietly and started back toward Gryffindor Tower.