Free at Last - Chapter 2

A/N: Wasted a TON of time trying to figure out the bloody timeline for this fic. Many thanks to hp-lexicon. They have a full timeline of the HP world, if you're interested.

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Ginny stood anxiously in Professor McGonagall's office. It was a large room where books lined the walls from top to bottom. Professor McGonagall sat in a dramatic, high-backed chair behind of a large ebony desk. Professor McGonagall smiled at Ginny, and her harsh brown eyes softened quite a bit behind her square-rimmed glasses.

"You will need to take good care of this, Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall said as she handed a small parcel to Ginny.

"Don't worry Professor," said Ginny. She tore the brown paper off of the box, leaving a small blue velvet box in her hands. She lifted the lid and saw the tiny Time Turner inside. "It's beautiful." She lifted it out of the box and put the gold chain around her neck. The tiny charm rested on her heart, and the fine red sand inside of it settled to the bottom. Ginny touched it with the tip of her finger. It was warm.

"Be careful not to turn it over unless you need to," said Professor McGonagall, adjusting her spectacles. "It would be wise to take it off during classes. And remember – you mustn't tell any other about it… Off you go then."

Ginny smiled and turned away.

"By the way," Professor McGonagall added, "congratulations on the Prefect position." Ginny smiled and gave Professor McGonagall a short bow before rushing to the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was decorated in its traditional manner. Hundreds of candles illuminated the room as they hovered above the four House Tables and the Staff table. They also produced quite a lot of heat, which was comfortable in the usually cold, drafty castle. Professor Dumbledore had already began the start-of-the-year speech.

"…And last of all, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that any Dungbombs set off in his office will result in a week of detention… if the culprit is caught." Ginny saw that Dumbledore looked at Ron after he said this. "Bed time. Hurry, now. Lessons begin tomorrow morning."

He sat down, and all the students hustled out of the Great Hall, Hermione leading the first-year Gryffindors to the common room. Ginny walked quietly beside her. She was very tired, her eyelids purple with exhaustion. Although she had slept through most of the train ride, she was looking forward to her old four-poster bed. After Hermione announced the new password (Docendo Discitur), Ginny rushed up the stairs and into her beloved dormitory. She dropped noisily down onto her bed and fell asleep, fully clothed and without a second thought.

­"Urgh!" Ginny rolled over and covered her face with her hands. Some rays of sunlight had found their way around the blood-red curtains and into her eyes. Ginny sat up, perturbed. She was lying on the floor where her bed should be. But it wasn't anywhere to be seen. There were beds to the left and right of her. Must have rolled off, she thought.

"Why won't you two ever close the curtains!" she yelled at her roommates, two of which were still sound asleep in their beds. One of them stirred.

"Go back to sleep, Minerva," she said. Ginny stood up.

"Minerva?" she muttered to herself, opening her wardrobe, only to find that she was fully dressed. Ginny ran her fingers through her bright red hair, and combed it into a ponytail with her fingers.

"What time is it, Diana?" No answer. Ginny approached Diana's bed. "DIANA!" The drowsy girl sat up and scratched her blond head.

"Who are you?" she said, not managing to stifle a huge yawn. "And who's Diana?" The blond girl didn't look familiar at all to Ginny. The blond girl's eyes widened. "Oh no, are we late again?"

Ginny stared at her open mouthed. The blond girl before her was wearing curlers in her white-blond hair and a light pink floral nightgown. Her eyes were big and baby blue, her skin almost as white as Draco Malfoy's.

"You must excuse us," said the girl, pulling the curlers hurriedly out of her hair. "We're always late." Ginny tried to speak, but found that she couldn't. "By the way, I'm Leora Malfoy. What's your name."

"Ginny," she replied. Malfoy? Ginny thought. "Are you by any chance related to a Draco?" Leora looked at her with a baffled expression.

"What an odd name," she said. "A boy, is it?"

Ginny nodded. "Epitome of evil."

"Well, I've never heard of him."

This confused Ginny quite a bit. Draco, aside from being the most hated boy in school, was very popular through Quidditch and his position as a Prefect.

"Minerva!" she yelled. "We're late!" Ginny's jaw dropped when she saw a 17-year-old Professor McGonagall sit up in bed, her wavy black hair falling in long waves over her shoulders. Ginny was horrified, but was careful not to show it in her face.

"Minerva… McGonagall?"

"Hmm?" said the girl.

"Impossible! It's 1996!" Ginny exclaimed. McGonagall shot her a very Hermione-like look as she brushed her hair into a tight bun.

"Perhaps you had better go to the infirmary, Ginny," Leora said, smiling, straightening her red and gold tie. "You're off by about fifty years."

"So it's… 1946?"

"1943."

"You're right," Ginny laughed, thinking she had embarrassed herself enough. "I'd better go to the Hospital Wing or something... 'Bye" Ginny turned her back on the utterly worried girl and entered the Gryffindor common room. It was different. Very different. There were many people bustling about, none of whom she recognized. She walked quickly toward the portrait hole.

"Oh no," Ginny muttered to herself after she had climbed out. "My Time Turner!" She pulled the small charm out of her blouse. I forgot to take it off! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!! thought Ginny.

Walking down the seventh floor corridor, she decided to head toward the Grand Staircase. The door to the North Wing opened, bumping Ginny's arm.

"Oh, sorry," muttered the boy, who hurried away without looking back. Ginny stared off after him.

I'm not crazy! she thought. Finally, someone who could prove that she wasn't insane! This really was 1996!

"HARRY!" Ginny yelled, jogging to catch up to him.

He spun around.

It wasn't Harry at all. This boy's eyes were blue – colder than two shards of ice. One of his dark brows was raised in a semi-flustered expression. The corner of his mouth was touched with a smile – a more severe replica of Draco Malfoy's smirk.

Ginny stopped quickly, and she felt her pulse hasten. Those eyes – they had pierced her soul before. There was no doubting who it was.

"Tom," said Ginny, in a very small voice. The boy before her nodded.

"Yes?"

"Oh," Ginny said, noticing her hand was shaking. She hid it behind her. "I thought you were somebody else." Tom approached her and smiled his sly, evil smile, his sapphire eyes looking her up and down.

"You're a pretty thing," he said. Ginny felt herself go white. Tom stepped so that he was only inches away from her, and touched her hair with the tip of his finger. He towered over her and she made sure not to cower under his icy gaze. "I haven't seen you around before. What House are you in?"

"Slytherin," she lied, looking down at the floor. She knew how he felt about Gryffindors,. "I'm in my fifth year." Tom nodded, quickly glancing around the hallway.

"Same for me," said Tom. "I'm Tom Riddle, by the way.... But you seem to already know that. How is it I don't know you?"

Ginny became whiter.

Act natural, Ginny, she thought. He doesn't know who you are yet.

"And you haven't told me your name," he said. Damn, thought Ginny.

"Lavender Brown," she lied smoothly. Tom's eyebrow rose higher.

"You lie."

How? she began to ponder.

But then she remembered. Tom had a gift. He had told her in the diary. He had some kind of lie detector in his head, which made it easy to tell if anyone was lying or not. Eye contact is key, she remembered.

Thank Merlin he didn't catch me with my Slytherin lie, she thought. I guess I'd better tell the truth.

"Ginerva Weasley," she sighed. "But my friends call me Ginny."

A/N: That's really Ginny's name – go to JK Rowling's official site if u want proof. Review or I'll make you hang out with Gilderoy Lockheart. Ooh. I shudder at the thought.