Title: The Labyrinth of Decaying Memories.
Author: Morbid Romantic.
Genre: Horror/Angst.
Pairing: Tom Riddle/Ginny Weasley.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not the lyrics, characters...nothing.
"sing
to me my muses,
lost in the hot cyclops anarchy,
possession,
invention,
blood, blood,
spirits, spirits,
sprits,
spirits,
calling, calling,
where will these visions lead?
how
far dare i go?
where will this song take me?
into the deep
unknown,
spirits, spirits,
come, come..."
- Otep (Possession)
Chapter Two: Whispers From My Lips.
I sit at the edge of the chair, a steaming cup of chamomile in my hands. I pull the blanket that was wrapped around me tighter and stare at the deep red carpet the chair sits upon.
The door suddenly opens, and I watch as Professor McGonagall strides in. She looks down her nose at me, then sits at her desk, clasping her hands as she does so. She gives me a brief smile, that I can't seem to return.
"Now," She begins, quickly licking her lips, "What is this that I hear of ghosts?"
I twitch slightly before beginning. "I don't know how else to explain it, Professor." I say softly. "Unless someone who looks like a person who is in fact dead is running around with an invisibility cloak trying to scare me..."
"Who is it that you see?" She interrupts, leaning forward, eyes shining slightly with a hint of curiosity.
"Ah..." I let out, staring back into my tea cup. How am I supposed to tell her, that I have seen Tom Riddle? A younger version of Lord Voldermort? How do you tell someone something like that?
"Miss Weasley," She says softly, "I'm afraid I can't help you unless you tell me."
"Maybe I don't want help, then." I say quickly, then wince. She gives me a sympathetic smile, and leans back in her chair.
"We both know that's a lie, my dear." She says once again. I let out a sigh and look her over, then around at the office that once belonged to Dumbledore. The portraits that hung when he was alive are still around, but now everything is in order. The whirring metal devices that were piled at random are gone, replaced with books and statues from other cultures.
I stare at a miniture statue of the Anubis, hoping that if I remain silent long enough, the subject will be dropped.
"Miss Weasley..."
"I'm tired, Headmistress." I look up and into Mcgonagall's eyes. "I'd like to go back to bed now." I stand up and shrug off the blanket, placing the full tea cup onto the desk. "Thankyou for the tea."
She gives me a soft, yet disappointed smile as I leave.
I lay back down on my bed with my arm over my eyes, trying to shut out Hermione's confused and concerned prattle. I sigh, and slowly peak out at Hermione from underneath my arm.
"Who did you see?" She screeches again, "Did you see Dumbledore? Was it him? I bet it was. That's probably why you didn't tell McGonagall. Everyone knows it would have upset her..."
"No."
"Oh. Okay then. Was it Sirius?" She takes my arm off of my eyes and peers at me eagerly.
"No."
"Oh. Well. Hmmm..."
"Go to bed, Hermione." I give her a little shove.
"But...I want to know who it is..." She sits down on my bed.
I sit up slowly and stare at her. "You really want to know?"
"Yes!" She stares at me eagerly and leans a little closer.
"Well..." I lean in a little closer as well, whispers falling from my lips. "If you want to know, then you are simply going to have to go to bed. Then maybe all of the tea leaves you inhaled in the last potions class will help open your mind, and you can see for yourself. In dreams, it may come to you."
She glares at me. I can't help but let out a weak smile, the feeling of being watched once again creeping into my veins.
TBC
