Hearing Voices
Jasmine Signet
A/N: Writer's block has struck! And to (hopefully) get it out of my system, I'm (again) writing about the one non-pairing relationship that I'm absolutely fascinated with – the dysfunctional Ginny/Tom.
Why, Tom, why?
Perhaps because she's older and spends more time with him…
No, Tom, that's not it, I know it isn't.
It was never her they fell in love with. It was always Hermione… Sweet, kind, perfect, Hermione. Hermione Granger, the perfect Head Girl with the perfect life, with the perfect boyfriend and the perfect marks.
No one ever told her they loved her.
Except for Tom.
Promise me you won't leave me, Tom.
I promise.
Except then Tom had left her and betrayed her and she had been left with Ron and Harry and Hermione telling her how stupid she'd been, and she'd been alone again. Even more so now that she knew that all Tom was doing was using her, and that he hadn't really cared after all, using his poisonous honeyed words which had dripped their way into her heart.
Harry Potter's got nothing on you, Tom.
Harry Potter's blind not to see what's right in front of him, Ginny.
Oh, yes. Tom had been her confidante. She'd put her trust and love into him, and he'd taken it all and drained her until there was nothing left, until she was just an empty shell devoid of anything worth loving and knowing.
Hermione was Petrified today, Tom.
Well, that's good, isn't it?
Harry's spending all his time at the hospital wing, waiting for her to wake up… Tom, he doesn't love me, doesn't even like me.
Her hand had cramped up so much, but she hadn't cared, oh no she hadn't cared, she'd kept on writing and writing and writing and he had boosted her low teen ego, eased her hurt teen angst…
Tom, I don't know what I'm doing where I'm going Tom I don't know where I am half the time these days…
Don't worry, Ginny, I'll look after you…
But he hadn't, he hadn't looked after her at all… He'd made her do horrible, horrible things and she hadn't meant to do them at all, hadn't meant to hurt so many people…
Tom, I found myself with feathers all down my front today and I don't know how they got there and all of Hagrid's chickens were strangled today and I think I did it Tom I think I'm going mad Tom help me, please help me!
She could still remember all of his diary entries, could still remember all of the words and the false, unfulfilled promises and his wonderful, wonderful way with words that had been sweet but now felt bitter in her mouth, like a lolly which had melted and left an acrid taste in her mouth.
She could still remember his last diary entry.
You Petrified all those people. You strangled all of Rubeus' chickens. You painted all those words on the all. It's all your fault, Ginny, all your fault.
And you know it was you, Ginny, you who did all that. And you know why?
She could still remember her tears falling onto the diary, and the laughter that she could hear in her head, a sneering, sarcastic laugh.
Why, Tom, why?
She still didn't know why, still didn't understand why he appeared to hate her that much, because that was the only possible explanation.
Why, Tom, why?
A/N: So… What do you think? I'm in an uber angsty mood, and writing Vengeance is not going to happen for a while, unless I suddenly wake up really really happy. To readers of Vengeance, I am very very sorry. I know that I haven't updated for a loooong time, but please, bear with me. I will try and make it up to you… Thanks!