Second year, part four.
"This one looks cool," Colin said, pointing at something halfway down the page, "look, it turns you invisible!"
She looked over his shoulder, reading a little bit.
"Yeah," she admitted, "it does sound cool. But I'm sure it's above our level, at least for the moment."
"Above my level, yeah. Not too sure if it's above yours though."
She smiled, her cheeks going pink.
"Thanks."
"I'm serious. You practically get all of these spells on the first try. You've really got a talent for them."
She swatted him lightly on the shoulder, turning back to her own book with a grin.
Sometimes, Colin's sweet and genial nature broke through the walls in her mind, making her forget everything. No thoughts of Tom or Voldemort, no half-formed, obscene plans to try and help the worst dark wizard in history.
He made her feel like a normal girl.
Invariably, it didn't last. The feeling would fade, if only for a moment.
A moment's pause was all her mind needed to remind her, to make her remember what Tom had done to the kind, naive boy she was sitting with.
At the time, she'd been almost angry with Tom. Even back then, she'd gotten along well with Colin, thinking of him as a friend.
But Tom had hurt him, almost killed him, even.
Her innards writhed, guilt and pain taking on a physical sensation, making her gorge want to rise.
Friendly, innocent Colin was perfectly happy sitting with her, talking with the girl who'd helped put him in the hospital wing for most of the previous year.
He practiced spells with her, giving her a way of improving her skills.
And he smiled and complimented her.
Sometimes, she wanted to just punch him in his stupid Mudblood mouth. When she didn't want to cry and beg him for forgiveness.
"I think we should start on this one," she said, ignoring the itching on her arm and the nervous energy filling her belly, "the shield charm."
"I'm game."
"Great," she said, turning her head so that he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes.
The hot water cascaded over her, pouring down her body and mingling with her tears, forming a pool around the drain at her feet.
She leaned over, her head knocking against the tiles every few seconds, her body shaking with pent-up sobs and her frantic attempt to keep from vomiting.
Adrenaline still pounded through her, a leftover of the horrific nightmare that had jolted her from sleep with her lips slamming shut over a terrified cry.
'It was just because of all that stuff I was reading,' she told herself, 'that's all. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't!'
In her dream, she'd been in a large misty room, one that her sleeping mind had known was the Great Hall.
An image had floated in mid-air, the smoky skull and snake that The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts claimed was Voldemort's sign.
Everywhere that she'd looked there had been bodies.
The corpses had been indistinct, until she'd looked more closely.
Then their faces had swum into clarity, taking on the visages of people she knew.
It seemed like everyone she knew had been there. Her parents, all of her brothers, Colin, Luna, Evelyn, Priscilla, Jasmine, Harry, Hermione.
All of them lying dead on the floor, their bodies showing unmistakable signs of extreme violence.
The teachers had been there as well, blood matting into Dumbledore's beard and turning the silver hair auburn as it had been in his youth.
She'd run through the enormous tomb, her body moving in that strange way it always seemed to in dreams.
She'd been calling for anyone still alive, crying as she moved the dead and searched for signs of life.
She'd felt the hand on her shoulder and had suddenly been facing the other way.
Tom had been there.
He'd smiled at her and taken her hand.
"I knew you could do it," he'd said, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to it, "I knew it. You have served me well, Ginevra."
Blood trailed down her palm, her skin torn away from his touch.
Suddenly, the knowledge had filled her mind.
She'd been the one to kill everyone. It had been her wand that stole their lives, her wand that marred their bodies.
She'd smiled at Tom, laughing at the sensation of his hands gripping her robes and tearing them away.
"And now," he'd said, his own robes dissipating into fog, "for your reward. My love."
He'd kissed her, and she'd woken up with a curiously pleasant heat emanating from her groin even as nausea and fear wracked her.
"It's just because of that book," she muttered, "it's not-I don't want that! It's not going to happen, it's not!"
'Liar. You wish the dream hadn't ended, don't you? You'd do anything for Tom. You know you would.'
"Dumbledore said it'd get better. It just needs more time, and I'll-"
'But you don't want it to get better, do you? You don't really want to stop thinking about Tom, you don't want to stop loving him. You still wonder what it would be like to kiss him, you still wish that you could.'
"I don't," she babbled, her voice rising from the harsh whisper it'd been pitched at, "I don't, I hate him, I hate him-"
'How can you say that? After all he did for you, how can you possibly even think that? How dare you! Ungrateful bitch!'
Her hand shot out, seemingly of its own accord.
When she'd woken up, she had thought to take more than just her body to the shower.
"I just want it to be over," she sobbed, her fingers closing over the handle of the knife, "it's meant to be over!"
'As long as there's still a chance for Tom,' the voice whispered, 'it can't be over. And you would be the worst person in the world to leave him when you could finally pay him back for all he did for you.'
"I am the worst person in the world. I've got to be, to-to love a monster like him."
She slashed the knife across her thigh, and slowly, the water turned pink.
She jumped to her feet, whooping loudly as Katie scored a goal.
The wind howled, thunder cracking and rain pelting into her face so hard that she could hardly see.
She raised her head in primal joy, letting herself get swept up in the cry of the Gryffindors around her.
She felt alive, alivein a way that she barely did the rest of the time.
Out here there was only the glory of watching the game, the freedom of losing herself in the cheering crowd.
Out here she didn't have to watch her every move, fearfully wondering if anyone had seen through her act.
Out here she didn't have to worry about the meaning of her repetitive dream, about the imagined feeling of Tom's lips on hers while blood seeped through the stones of the castle.
Out here, she could just be.
'I'll try out for the team as soon as I can,' she decided, peering through the gloom at the huddle of the team. 'It must be so much better for them.'
"Told you this'd be fun," she shouted, grinning fiercely at Colin.
"Fun? Maybe if I could actually see!"
The shrill cry of a whistle cut through the downpour, her retort dying in her throat as she followed the players back into the air.
"There's Harry!" Colin shouted, pointing at a figure streaking across the field, "Look at him go!"
"He's chasing Diggory," she yelled back, "one of them must've seen it!"
The two Seekers were neck in neck, rising higher into the air.
An icy pall fell over the pitch, lightning striking and seeming muted and dull.
The bottom fell out of her stomach and a memory started playing in her head.
"She clutched the diary to her chest, her knees raised protectively around it. She shoved her head deeper into the cushion, not allowing her sobbing to escape.
The soft sleeping noises of her roommates filtered through the crimson and gold hangings, blotted out by Tom's voice in her mind.
'I thought you cared for me,' he said, his usually warm voice empty and made cold with sadness, 'I thought you understood how much you mean to me.'
'I do,' she thought desperately, 'I do, I'm-'
'Then why did you cast me aside? Close to two weeks. Two weeks! I lay there with toilet water sinking into my pages, calling for you. Did I do that to you? Make you wait when you needed me?'
'I'm s-'
'When Lockhart had you at his will, did I abandon you? When your so-called friends and family left you to your own devices and you felt all alone, did I answer you? Or did I make you wait?'
'You-'
'I came,' he snarled, 'whenever you needed me, I came to your rescue. And what do I get in return?'"
As if from a great distance, she heard the screams of the crowd, saw the forest of black cloaks floating onto the pitch.
One of the Seekers stopped their flight, hovering in mid-air above the Dementor horde.
She saw Dumbledore, his white hair visible even through the storm and from so far away, rising to his feet and twirling his wand.
"'I'm sorry, Tom,' she thought, 'I'm so s-'
'Sorry isn't enough,' he thought coldly, 'After all I've done for you, you believe it fair to put me through that agony?'
'I got scared,' she thought desperately, 'I wasn't-'
'You weren't sure if you wanted to continue in my work,' he snarled back, 'and instead of asking me, instead of explaining your worries, you threw me aside.'
'I don't-I don't want to hurt anyone,' she cried, her thoughts ringing with pained confusion, 'I don't know why we have to-'
'Now is not the time to discuss that,' Tom said. 'Now is the time for you to decide if you still want me.'
'I do! I do, I-'
'Do you? Allow me to rephrase. Now is the time for me to decide if I still want you.'
'Tom,' she started, a fresh bout of tears flooding out at his words, 'pl-'
'Why should I? I have been nothing but good to you, and you abandoned me. I saved you from Lockhart's desires, and you repay me with callous cruelty. It is I and I alone who have been there for you through all of your difficulties with your friends and family. Instead of assisting me in my most important work, you choose to hinder me, putting me in danger so that you can keep your ignorant little conscience clear. Why should I continue to talk to you? Why should I not simply force you to give me to another, to someone who would treat me the way I deserve? Why, Ginny?'
'I-'
'You told me that you love me,' he thought, the pain in his voice cutting her to the bone, 'you told me that I was the greatest thing to ever happen to you. If you can't even act like that is true, why should I expend any energy on you?'
'I'll do better,' she sobbed, 'I will!'
'And why should I trust you? Any trust I had for you is gone, Ginny. You cannot bring it back.'
'Please! I won't question you, I'll do whatever you want-'
'You should have been doing that already! Is the concept of gratitude so far from your Muggle-addled brain? I saved you, Ginny! I saved you from Lockhart's depredations, I saved you from the quiet death of loneliness.'
A second passed, her mind empty of everything but guilt.
'It seems I was wrong about you,' Tom thought quietly, 'I thought you were better than you are. I should not have expected you to be better than anyone else. The fault lies with me for having misread you.'"
Even from across the stands, even with her mind consumed by memory, she could sense the fury and power radiating off of Dumbledore.
She heard the gasps and shouts, saw the player falling off of their broom out of the corner of her eye.
Something silver shot from Dumbledore's wand, flying straight for the Dementors.
"'You weren't wrong, I'll prove it, I'll-'
'Will you?' Tom asked doubtfully.
'I will! I'll never question you, I'll do whatever you want! Just don't leave me, Tom, please, don't leave me!'
'I'd like nothing better than to trust you, Ginny,' Tom thought, his sadness filling her mind, 'but I don't know if I can.'
'Please! Please, Tom! Just one more chance!'
'One more chance. Very well. One chance, Ginny. And if you do not treat me as you should, I will force you to hand me to someone who shall.'"
Whatever Dumbledore sent at the Dementors, it scattered them, leaving them to flee the pitch as he waved his wand again and made the falling body slow in its descent.
"HARRY'S FALLING!" Colin screamed, standing at the edge of his seat, "HE'S GONNA HIT!"
"'Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won't let you down, I swear it!'
'You may say so now,' Tom said, 'but how will you be sure to keep your promise later?'
'I-'
'I think you should be punished. It is only fair, don't you think?'
The fierce joy filling her wasn't diminished in the slightest by this. Tom was taking her back, and that was all that mattered.
'Yes, Tom.'
'Good.'
And a burst of pain shot through her mind, filling her with such agony that she couldn't even breathe, let alone scream.
It didn't stop, the sensation of a thousand burning knives slicing into her, every inch of her body screaming in agony.
Her bladder let go, warm urine soaking through her knickers and into her bedsheets in an instant.
Her lungs worked, air filling her in a rush, and she opened her mouth to scream, her roommates forgotten in her pain.
'If you scream,' Tom said, his voice cutting cleanly through her agony 'you will wake the others. And if you do that, I may choose to leave you.'
Somehow, she managed to keep her wails inside, biting deeply into her pillow as the tears marked their trails down her face.
An eternity passed before it receded.
She lay there, body shaking with the aftereffects.
'Do you think that was enough?' Tom asked, his voice wry, 'Do you think that was enough to make up for what you did to me? Enough to rebuild the trust you shattered? Enough to appease me?'
It took a few minutes for his questions to register.
She barely had to think about it.
'No, Tom.'
'Well?'
'I-'
'Do you believe you deserve more?'
She gritted her teeth, her toes curling up and hands forming into fists.
'Yes.'
'Do you really? Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear?'"
Harry fell, the sound of his collision enormous in the sudden silence that had gripped the stadium.
Everyone started screaming, the teachers rushing onto the pitch and waving their wands.
The memory, once begun, continued in her mind.
"'No, I-I really think-I was wrong, Tom, I shouldn't have-shouldn't have-'
'Betrayed me?'
'I shouldn't have betrayed you! You-you've been so good to me, I don't deserve it, I don't want to lose you, please! Whatever will-will make you happy! Please!'
'Well,' he said reluctantly, 'perhaps one more dose.'"
"Do you think he's alright?" Colin asked, too scared to take his eyes off of the stretcher being led off of the pitch.
"He'll be fine," she answered, her shaking subsiding as the memory passed.
'I hope he dies.'
"Heliopath to Consort B," Luna said.
The flaming piece followed her instructions, shooting forward in a straight line and sending other pieces scattering out of its path.
The consort reacted quickly, waving her miniature wand and shooting a jet of icy air at the Heliopath.
The fiery creature quickly overpowered Ginny's consort, sending the tiny carving flying off of the board with soot all over it.
Before Ginny even thought of her next move, a small fight began on Luna's side of the board.
One of Luna's pawns had suddenly turned on the rest of her pieces, its colour changing from white to black while it attacked.
"Oh no," Luna gasped, "A spy got through. Rook D forward, Eagle forward..."
Ginny giggled as Luna tried to contain the damage.
Luna had called it a variation of normal chess rules, but for all intents and purposes it was a separate game entirely.
The board was almost twice the size of a regular chessboard, instead of two rows of pieces each it had five, and it had four entirely new types of pieces. Two consorts, two Heliopaths, three spies, three eagles.
The pieces were also far more independent than in normal chess. They made alliances, came up with plans, and would sometimes totally ignore the players' orders.
Also, instead of the pieces simply taking each other, they would fight it out, battling each other for a chance to survive.
They'd played probably ten times, and she still wasn't entirely sure of the rules. In fact, she was half-convinced that Luna was simply making them up as they went along.
It was a completely absurd game, incredibly difficult to play, and it was fun as hell.
It also confirmed something she'd always kind of known about Luna's father.
He may have been a totally nutter, but he was a pretty brilliant wizard.
The enchantments on the pieces were simply fantastic. The little people were intricately carved, each with their own personalities and strategies.
She'd assumed that Ron, chess purist that he was, would have absolutely despised the game. He hadn't, funnily enough.
He hadn't really seemed to care about it, actually.
She'd borrowed the game from Luna and had tried to show Ron how it worked, and he'd played along for a bit. Then Hermione had walked into the Common Room and he'd made some stupid comment about her cat.
The next thing she knew, he was storming up to his room, leaving her to pack away the game with a silently seething Hermione sitting next to her.
She hadn't tried to play it with him again, and he hadn't asked.
It was much more fun with Luna, anyway. With Luna, the game was interrupted with some of the strangest and most comfortable conversations Ginny ever had.
"There we go," Luna muttered, her eagle swooping in, picking up the flailing spy, and throwing him to the other side of the board where he knocked over two of Ginny's pawns.
"It's still my turn though," Ginny asked, "right?"
Luna nodded seriously.
"Ok. Heliopath to Queen."
Her last surviving Heliopath shot forward, fire streaming from its hands.
It carved a hole through Luna's flank, cutting down pawns and knights with equal ease.
Luna's queen fled the board before the Heliopath could reach it.
"Hmmm. You know, father thinks that the Dementors are all a distraction."
"Yeah?"
"Pawn to G5. Yeah. He says that it's because they don't want anyone to know they found Merlin's tomb."
"Eagle to pawn. Why not?"
"Because of the map," Luna said, looking at Ginny with incredulity, "to Avalon. Fudge wants to get the treasure before any of the public have a chance at it. Father says he'll have it all put together for the next edition of the Quibbler. I'm sure people will be very interested in seeing the truth."
"I'm sure they will," Ginny said, biting the inside of her cheek.
She still wasn't quite sure if Luna actually believed all of her father's theories. She'd decided it wasn't worth poking holes in all the inconsistencies after Luna had started getting annoyed with her.
"Check," Luna said.
Ginny cursed under her breath.
She set her queen forward, taking Luna's eagle.
"You've seemed a bit distant lately," Luna said, still not lifting her eyes from the board, "is everything alright?"
'Why don't you tell her?' The insidious voice whispered, 'tell her about your dreams, about your spell practice. Tell her that you're thinking more and more about Tom every day. She'll still want to spend time with you, won't she?'
"I'm alright," she answered curtly.
"Are you? Checkmate."
"I keep thinking about it," she admitted, "what happened last year. I just get these thoughts, and once they start they don't stop."
"I'm sure that must be difficult," Luna said, "have you tried thinking about other things?"
"Yes," she said with a sigh, "I have."
"Oh."
Luna packed away the pieces in silence, ignoring their shouted opposition to the box.
"Here," she said, extending her arm and shaking one of her silvery green bracelets into her hand, "Daddy made these for me after Mummy died, to help with the sadness. It might help you, even."
"I-Luna-I can't -"
She pressed it into Ginny's hand, smiling and shaking her head a little.
"I have another. Besides, you've been a friend to me. That's worth at least as much as a bracelet, any day."
'Do you think she'd give you the bracelet if she knew the truth?'
With a feeling like her heart was breaking, Ginny took the bracelet and put it on her wrist.
When she had the dream that night, every single body lining the transient hall was wearing Luna's face.
"Protego!"
Nothing happened.
She gritted her teeth, focusing all her mind on her wand.
"Protego!"
Nothing happened.
Sweat dotted her forehead, her brain knotted in concentration.
"Protego!"
Nothing happened.
"Please," she whispered, "please. Just work. Just work! Protego!"
She lowered her wand, frustrated tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.
"Protego! Protego! Protego!"
Nothing happened.
A flash of hot rage shot through her, her wand slashing through the air without thought even guiding it.
"Bombarda!"
Her spell collided with a dusty desk, sending up a thick plume of white smoke and blasting the desk into the classroom's far wall where it split in two.
'Idiot. If someone heard that, they'll wonder what's going on. They'll come. And you were meant to get the shield charm down pat today.'
"I'm trying," she whispered fearfully, picking up her bag with trembling fingers, "I'm trying!"
'The simplest and most basic of all shield charms, and you can't even cast it. You can't even beat a Mudblood of your own age every time you duel, and you think that you can be useful to him?'
She stopped halfway to the door, her body beginning to shake.
"I don't want to be useful, I don't!"
'Liar. At least admit the truth to yourself. You want to help him. You'll do anything for the chance to hear him again.'
"I-I-I d-don't! I don't!"
'Liar. Ungrateful bitch. The very least Tom deserves is for you to admit the truth to yourself. Admit it!'
She fled, pawing through her bag and searching for the knife as she ran.
"Ginny, dear," Jasmine drawled, "you simply must tell me what products you use. Your skin is so smooth, and even from here one can tell how soft it is."
Ginny paused and looked down for an instant, her shirt halfway over her chest.
Her skin was good, she had to admit. Better than all of her roommates', even if the rest of their physical features far outshone her own.
Just above her ribs, a tiny strip of pale skin caught her eye.
'Yeah, my skin's amazing. I give it the best treatments.'
She barked out a laugh.
"What?" Jasmine asked, confusion making her porcelain face crinkle.
"Nothing," Ginny replied, laughter still bubbling up in her voice, "I don't use anything on it."
'Except healing charms.'
"But-"
"It's all natural," Ginny said, trying to imitate Jasmine's oh-so cultured voice, "dear."
'As if it matters.'
"'Tom,' she wrote, idly licking the end of her quill and watching the ink vanish into the page, 'are you one of those people who think that purebloods are the only real wizards?'
His answer appeared a minute later, the words floating up to her.
'Why do you ask?'
'Because you-the way you talk about muggles. And you used the M word yesterday. Dad says that only those crazy purebloods use it, but you did.'
'The M word?'
'You know, the word for Muggleborns,' she hesitated, shooting a quick glance around the room, 'Mudblood.'
'Ah,' he replied, 'that'
'Yeah. Well? Are you?'
'Ginny, the question does not have as simple as a yes or no answer.'
'I don't know what you mean! Dad always says that the people who think that type of thing are evil, but you-I don't know what you're saying!'
'I believe,' Tom wrote, 'that all things being equal, the wizard with purely magical ancestors is more worthy of his powers than one whose bloodline has been tainted.'
'Dad says-'
Before she could even finish writing the sentence, Tom's hurried scrawl appeared.
'Do you think I'm evil, Ginny?'
'Never!'
She'd only had the diary for two months, but that was more than enough time to know the answer to that.
'And yet, I hold beliefs that your father would consider evil. Perhaps, love, this is a subject about which you must make up your own mind, and not simply listen to the decisions of others.'
'I-'
'Or maybe you are not yet old enough to think about such complex subjects.'
'I am,' she wrote indignantly, 'I am!'
'Well, then. What makes you think that muggles are anything like us?'
'That's silly! They're people.'
'What of monkeys? Are they people?'
'No. But they can't talk. And they can't build things, or live in houses, or-or have money, or go to the store.'
'Funnily enough, it was a group of wizards who created the first languages. It was wizards who helped muggles harness fire and build their first homes. And it was wizards who came up with the most important socio-economic ideas.'
'Socio-economic?'
'Wizards created the first marketplaces, wizards made the first currencies. Muggles would have stayed no better than apes if not for the intervention of wizards.'
'No, dad says that-'
'I thought that you were going to think for yourself?'
'I am, but it's just not true!'
'Do you think I would lie to you, Ginny?'
'I-no. But you could be wrong.'
'I'm not wrong. And in fact, I will give you a list of books to confirm these facts. If not for the intervention of wizards, muggles would be more readily apparent as the animals they are.'
'They're still people, Tom. I told you, they-'
'Are goblins people?'
'They're-they're goblins.'
'Are they people, Ginny?'
'They're not people, they're goblins. It's different.'
'Why? They talk, they build things, they use money. Why aren't they people?'
'They're just not. Dad says they fight a lot, and they're rude and mean, and they hate us.'
'Tell me, what is the largest body count from any of the goblin rebellions?'
'I don't know.'
'All in all, across the entire Europe and over all of the rebellions, less than thirty thousand died. And that is including the goblin casualties. And yet, that is enough for us to collectively recognize the goblins for their warlike selves. How many casualties were there in the First World War?'
'A lot?'
'More than thirty million. And the second war was being waged when I made this diary. Based on some of your statements, it was even more costly than the first. Tell me, Ginny, when was the last time two wizarding nations declared war? Not individuals seeking power and leading gangs into battle, but nations.'
'The 1700's? A few years after the statute of secrecy was put into place, right?'
'Exactly. Fewer than a thousand died before peace was brokered. Muggles are uncivilized beasts, with little to no regard for human life. We are their superiors in every way that matters. We should be ruling them, not hiding from them.'
Her eyes widened as she read Tom's message, a strange fear rising up within her.
'That's not right, Tom. It's-'
'Tomorrow, you will take me to the library. Perhaps you haven't been paying enough attention during History of Magic.'
'What do you want to show me?'
'We will begin with the Inquisition and the Malleus Maleficarum. And I will explain to you how it is that the muggles have so ruined our culture, and the steps needed for us to remedy this state of affairs.'
Her heart pounding, anxiety thrumming through her, she touched quill to paper.
'Good night, Tom.'
'Good night, Ginny.'
"That was a good one," Colin said, his face flushed and his breath still coming in large gulps, "I think that was the longest we've had."
"Yeah. You almost had me, right at the end there. With that Stinging Hex."
He beamed. "Almost. Not quite, but close."
"It's not like I beat you every time we duel," she said, "I'm really not that much better than you."
"Liar. Nine times out of ten, you win."
"That's just because I'm more original than you. You just keep doing the same spells over and over. You need to branch out more."
"Not all of us can just learn dozens of new spells at a time," he said with a shake of the head, "in fact, I'd bet that most people can't!"
She opened her mouth to reply before thinking better of it.
She couldn't exactly tell him that her spell inventory was the result of hours of lonely practice driven by desperate need.
He wouldn't understand. He couldn't.
"So, my parents wrote me today," Colin said, "I am going home for Christmas in the end. In fact, we'll be going to visit my aunt and uncle in Ireland. So I guess this was our last time till next term."
"Oh. I-I thought you were gonna stay."
"I was, because my parents had only saved enough for them and Dennis, my younger brother, to go," he shrugged, "but my aunt and uncle ended up paying for me to come along. Haven't seen them or my cousins in years. Of course, they don't know about magic, so they think I'm at a school for the gifted."
He snorted. "It's gonna be tough to keep that act up."
"Well-I'll try find something about practice dummies. For-for spells we don't want to try on each other."
"Yeah. I was thinking, we could ask Professor McGonagall. We could make it into a real club, get other people to join, and-"
No!"
He blinked at her.
"Uh-"
"I don't think it'll be fun," she said, her mind racing faster than ever, "if we make it into a whole official thing. Like this, when it's just the two of us, it's fun. But with-with more people, it'll be all-all competitive. We'll have to have a teacher here always, we won't be able to do what we want."
Colin looked at her, unsure.
"Listen," she said, "if we get McGonagall involved, she'll want to be supervising us. So it'll have to be according to her times, not ours. It'll-she'll probably stop us from doing anything that she thinks is too advanced, and she'd want to make it a whole club. It won't just be the two of us. It won't-won't be cool anymore."
"But-"
"We're not breaking any school rules or anything," she said quickly, "and I'm not saying that we should lie if anyone asks. I just-I don't want this to become a hangout. I like it, just the two of us."
"You're right," He said. "You know, I joined the photography club for a bit. Left after two weeks. They all took it too seriously."
'I don't know if I convinced him. This was a terrible idea, I should never have brought someone else along.'
"Thanks," she said, making up her mind. She pushed herself up on her toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"You're a great friend, Colin."
His face went beet-red.
With almost the entire student body gone for the holidays, Hogwarts was an entirely different place.
The few students that were there had the run of the castle. Besides for Ginny, her brothers, Harry, and Hermione, there were only twenty or so other students there, most of whom were fifth or seventh years.
The first major snowfall of the season coincided with the first night of the holidays.
The next day, of course, saw a Weasley free-for-all snow fight, with Harry joining in.
She took great pleasure in hitting him so hard in the back of the head that he fell over.
She found herself in one of the many empty classrooms, shivering as the melted snow slowly dripped from her clothes.
'You had your fun. Now it's time to work.'
"Protego!"
She saw it form, a light-blue shimmer in the air, barely more visible than a heat haze.
"It worked," she said, her voice hushed and reverent, "it worked! I got it! I got it!"
'And? Is that all you need? Move on and keep practicing.'
She nodded, the triumph roaring in her veins, the knowledge that she could do anything powering her along.
"Ok. Ok. Ok. The Bone-Breaker. Let's go."
She walked over to one of the desks, extending her left index finger and laying it on the wood.
Her breath came in shallow gasps, excitement and fear boiling in her.
She raised her wand and spoke the incantation.
It wasn't the same type of pain as the pinching or scratching or cutting.
It was dull, a throbbing ache that started at the top of her finger and radiated outward.
In a way, the pain was far worse than anything else she'd done to herself.
Her wand fell from her limp hand as she grabbed her left wrist and began to hop in place, squeezing it between her knees as if that would somehow help.
"Bloody fucking hell. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts."
'Idiot! Use your wand like a real witch would!'
She kneeled, her teeth clenched so tightly that her jaw began to ache, tears streaming down her face.
"E-Episkey!"
She felt a curious warmth around her broken finger.
And when it faded, the pain was still there.
'No, no, it has to work, it has to work!'
Terrible images flooded her mind, thoughts of all the questions Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall would ask.
Her wand shook so badly that she could barely aim it.
"Episkey!"
'Useless. Did you really think that the pain would always be something that you wanted? How could you possibly think to fight if you can't heal something as minor as this?'
"Episkey!"
The warmth coated her finger again, and this time, when it vanished, the pain was gone.
She bent her finger experimentally.
'This is beyond insane. It's crazy. I almost didn't fix it, what if I can't next time? I need to stop, I need-'
'You need Tom. Admit it. Admit you still want to help him. Admit that you want to serve Lord Voldemort.'
"I don't-I don't, I-'
'How much longer are you going to keep lying to yourself? Admit it. You've felt nothing but emptiness and pain since Potter killed Tom. You want him back, in whatever form you can get.'
"No," she whispered, "I have friends, I have-"
'Friends? Friends who you haven't even told what you really keep thinking about? Friends who you use to keep yourself away from suspicion. Friends who would abandon you in a heartbeat if they even suspected the truth. Your friends are nothing but a weak attempt to distract yourself from the great emptiness within. From the place where Tom used to be.'
"I-"
'You had Tom. And there's been no one like him. And except for Voldemort, there never will be. Admit it, at least to yourself. Just admit what you want.'
She ran from the classroom as if she could leave the voices behind.
"Ginny? Fancy a game of Gobstones?"
She paused, her hand tightening imperceptibly on the bannister.
She'd searched for Ron, earlier. After she'd showered and sobbed and calmed herself from her thoughts in that empty classroom, she'd gone looking for someone, anyone to help keep her busy, to help keep her away from her thoughts.
Neither Luna nor Colin were in the castle.
She'd debated writing a letter to them, but just the thought of traipsing up to the Owlery sapped her of her energy, killing her motivation before she'd even started.
Besides. If Colin's Muggle 'animal' relatives didn't know that he was magic, he'd have a hard time explaining an owl arriving with a letter tied to its leg.
Percy had been busy with his homework, and she knew that even though he'd told her to interrupt him if it was important, he'd want an explanation for why it was so urgent.
Even if she simply told him that she felt a bit lonely, he'd be writing to her mother as soon as he wasn't keeping her company any longer.
Fred and George were nowhere to be found.
Ron had been flying over the snow covered grounds with Harry bloody Potter.
With no one else to keep her distracted, she'd ended up in the Common Room, reading through her Charms textbook and trying to ignore the war going on in her mind.
She sat near the crackling fire for nearly half an hour, her body steadily growing shakier, her hands itching, the battle in her head growing louder and more insistent.
Until eventually, she lost, turning her mind to the silver knife in the bag next to her bed and the only way she knew to silence the voice.
And now that she was halfway up the staircase to her room, Percy decided to pitch.
"No thanks," she said, turning a smile to him and raising her hand as if to stifle a yawn, "I just wanted to have a nap before supper, otherwise I'll pass out in the food."
"Yeah," Percy said, "you look exhausted. Want me to wake you?"
"I thought you can't come up to our dorm?"
He fingered his badge, a grin flashing across his face.
"Well, if I'm still not down twenty minutes before dinner, wake me up, please"
He glanced at his watch, his eyebrows rising.
"That's in nearly three hours. You sure you'll be able to sleep tonight if you do that?"
"It's the holidays, Perce. Besides, I want to take a shower and read a little. I'll probably be awake long before then, but just in case…"
"Enjoy," He said, shoving the box under his arm and turning away, mumbling something about Ron to himself.
Her steps quickened as she walked to her room, her smile falling away.
She closed the curtains around her bed, shrugging out of her top and pulling her robes back before raising the knife with a shaking hand and staring down at her chest.
Her breasts had definitely grown over the past few weeks.
Once, she'd have been over the moon to see the visible signs of her body changing from that of a girl to one of a woman.
Now she saw it and felt nothing but loathing.
She lowered the knife, feeling its cold seductive edge against the curves of her skin.
The large vein in her wrist drew her eye.
She stared at it, wondering how it would look if she cut there instead. What it would feel like as her lifeblood left her.
One move of the knife and it would all be over.
One move of the knife and she'd be free.
Her vision blurred, tears flooding down her face as she lowered the knife again.
'Stop! Don't do this, I can't do this, go to Percy-'
'And tell him what? That you're too cowardly to even tell yourself the truth, and so you want to die? That you're too weak to go on living?'
'This is what Tom wanted! He wanted me to die, he-'
'He only wanted you to die so that he could live. Harry stole that from you.'
"I-I-I don't want to-to d-die," she sobbed, "but I-"
'But what? You told Tom that you'd die for him. You told him that you'd do anything for him. Why not try living for him?'
"Th-that's what I'm doing! What more do you want?"
'I want you to admit the truth to yourself. Admit that you want to serve Tom. Admit that if the chance ever comes up, you'll help Lord Voldemort however you can. Admit it, and make yourself someone who can actually help him."
"N-no, no, no. I'd rather-rather die! I don't want to be one of those people, I don't!"
'How much longer will you keep lying to yourself? You want it. You want it more than anything. You dream of him every night, you think of him all of the time. You'll never be happy without him. Not like you were when you had him. You'll never be complete.'
"I don't want him!"
'Liar. Even just thinking about him makes you happy. You want him.'
"I don't!"
She pressed down on the knife, feeling it beginning to bite into her.
'Or you can take the coward's way out. Tom was wrong about you. He said that you were brave. He must have been wrong.'
"He was evil," she sobbed "evil."
'Good and evil are just meaningless words. Didn't your father always tell you to trust your heart? What does your heart say?'
"It-it-"
'Everything you feel is telling you that you want Tom. You're just trying to convince yourself that you don't. Just admit it. You'll be happier if you do.'
She sat there, tears running down her face as she applied a tiny amount of pressure to the blade on her wrist, feeling like she was teetering at the edge of a cliff.
'Don't you want to be happy again? Like you were when you had him?'
She raised the knife, a few tiny droplets of blood breaking the surface of her wrist.
Then, with a soft cry, she slashed it down, cutting into her arm just below the shoulder.
She raised it, slashing it down and slicing into her skin. She raised it and sliced again, and again, and again.
She carved at her arm until all the thoughts fell silent, until her heart began to slow down and her hands stopped their trembling.
When she was finished, it looked like she had stuck her arm into a bucket of red paint.
She was panting, feeling more alive than she thought she ever had before.
The tears had dried in streaks on her face, just as the blood was beginning to dry on her body.
And for once, her mind was clear.
"I will do whatever I can," she said, "if the-the chance to help Lord V-V-Voldemort ever comes up. I'll-I'll be a-a Death Eater, if-if that's what he wants."
'And you will make yourself into someone who can help him, won't you?'
"That's-that's what I've been doing!"
'Not entirely. Tom didn't just say that you don't know enough combat magic to help him. He said that you don't know enough of the Dark Arts. You need to learn more of those. And to do that, you need the Restricted Section. And for that, you need the help of someone who can sneak inside there. And you need a way to convince them. You need to make them want to help you.'
She nodded, raising her wand and siphoning the blood into the glass she kept beside her bed.
The cuts may have looked bad, but in her frenzy she hadn't been going for depth, only for numbers.
The cuts were bad because there were dozens of them, but none of them were anywhere near the deepest or largest she'd ever done.
As she set to cleaning herself up and healing her arm, she whispered to herself.
"I'll find a way to get Fred and George to help me."
From the corner in her mind where that voice lurked, she felt nothing but satisfaction. It was such a relief for her head to be so quiet.
"Hey, guys? Can I speak to you for a minute?"
The twins turned as one, identical smiles appearing on their faces.
"Look, Fred. It's our sister. And she's searching us out. I wonder if she wants to help,"
"Can't be," Fred said, "she's too busy racing Hermione through the library to help us."
He paused, raising an eyebrow and nodding at George.
"Unless...Ginny, have you seen Peeves anywhere?"
"Peeves?"
"Indeed. You know, tiny little spirit of mischief and trouble, wears a hat sometimes."
"A noble soul," George said, wiping an imaginary tear from his eyes, "the best of examples for all of the budding young minds in these hallowed halls of education."
"I think I saw him after breakfast," she said, "He was annoying some of the portraits on the fourth floor. But what-"
"Do we want with him? You can help, if you like."
"Promises to be fun," Fred said, "you see, we discovered a stash of bat repellent, and we thought, well. Who do we know that's brave enough to spray it all over our Potions Professor's office?"
"And of course, the only answer to spring to mind was our dear friend and hero."
"Why don't you guys just do it yourselves?"
"The last time we interfered with Snape, he promised us-"
"Lots of things that aren't fit for the ears of an innocent young girl," George said. "And since he's Snape, we're half-convinced that he'll actually carry out his threats, even if it did earn him a trip to Azkaban."
"And someone would probably try to give him an exorcism. But still. He's Snape."
"And Peeves just does favours for you guys?"
George held up a duffel bag.
"It helps if you bribe him." He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "give him enough Dungbombs and fireworks and he'll even brave the Bloody Baron!"
"And you have to do something to annoy Filch," Fred added, "Usually that's easy enough, but we've come up with a doozy of an idea, something that'll really get Peeves excited."
"What?" She asked, interested despite herself.
"Now now, little sister. We don't give away all of our secrets like that. In fact, we usually wouldn't invite anyone alongside us on such an important mission, besides for maybe Lee. Still, we could always make an exception for our flesh and blood. Want to join?"
A part of her wanted nothing more than to simply cast aside her plans and follow them.
But she had decided.
She shook her head.
"Ok then," Fred said, "not to be rude, but we are in the middle of a plan of epic proportions. What exactly did you want?"
She looked at them, her heart beginning to race.
'This is never going to work.'
"You guys said you'd help me, if I ever needed anything, right?"
They nodded, humour vanishing from their faces.
"Do-do you know a way to sneak into the Restricted Section?"
"Pretty much everything in there is seriously Dark," Fred asked slowly, "What do you want in there?"
"I just-I need to-to look some things up."
"Sorry Ginny," George said, "but you of all people should know just how dangerous books can be. Those aren't fun browsing material. Some of them are cursed, and if you don't know exactly what you need, it's best not to just wander around in there."
"Besides, if you get caught, it really won't look good, after everything that happened."
"If it's really that urgent, you tell us what you need and we'll get it for you."
"I don't know exactly which book it I need," she said, "I'll-I'll need to look around a little."
They shook their heads.
"Ginny, we'd-"
"Everything on possession is in there," she blurted out, "not in the regular library."
Fred stopped talking, his mouth hanging open for a second. Ginny paused before continuing, hoping the nonsense she was about to spout would be enough to convince them.
"I just-I need to know how he-how he did it," she babbled, "I can't-I keep remembering it, and I-it's over, but I need to know! If I knew how it w-works, I could-I could fight it. I could know that if-if ever needed to, I'd be able to fight it."
"Ginny." George said gently, "you don't need to worry about-"
"I know I don't! But at the same time, I still do! I need to-to know that I've done everything I can! I can't-can't explain it. But I-I need to know."
She rubbed her eyes, their faces swimming back into clarity, hope springing up in her.
'This has to work, this has to work! I need it to work!'
They were both staring at her, Fred with a clenched jaw, George with a stricken look.
"McGonagall, she didn't understand, she said I just need to move on. But I-I can't, I need to know first, I need to know everything I can before I can move on. Before it'll really be over. Everything else about what happened, I can understand it and-and move on. But there's a bit more that I just-just need to know."
'Come on! They can't say no, not after that!'
"George," Fred said, "Let's have a chat."
They walked a few meters down the hallways and stopped, putting their heads close to each other and muttering.
'It will work. You'll see. They won't be able to resist that. Tom would have been proud.'
She still felt jittery, her tears starting to form again. But a smile kept trying to split her lips.
They walked back to her a few minutes later, both of them still wearing those deadly serious expressions.
"You promise that's all you want from there?" Fred asked.
"I promise."
"And you promise that you'll only go with us?" George asked, "You won't go sneaking around there on your own?"
"I promise," She repeated, "I swear I won't."
"We'll go tonight," Fred said, "meet in the Common Room around eleven. Less chance of Pince or Percy wandering around then."
She jumped up, seizing him in a tight hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Why did you wait till now to ask us?" Fred said as she released him and threw her arms around George.
She let go of George, wiping her eyes again.
"I thought I could find what I needed in the library," she said, "and I-I didn't want to make you guys worry."
"We're your big brothers, Ginny. It's our job to worry about you."
In the back of her mind, a part of her wailed, while another part burst into raucous laughter at their earnest, caring faces.
"Thanks," she said, "really."
"We did say that we'd help you. Eleven tonight, in the Common Room. See you then."
'Tom would have been proud. He will be, when you tell him one day.'
"I hope so," she muttered, turning around and heading back to her dorm with a spring in her step.