Difficulties of Avoidance
by dead2self
A/N: I'm still not totally sure how I feel about this one... it may undergo some heavy editing, but I didn't want to leave you all hanging before I charged into final papers, finals, and moving back to America! For now, enjoy the chapter!
Edit 06/03/11: Some minor edits
Things were not going well with Tom Riddle. Ginny still had not been in to see him since before the night Dumbledore died. Luna had started with the basics that she had already begun the week before, talking to him while she gave him the best food they could coax out of the elves. Reportedly, he was still saying quite nasty things about their families. They considered giving him books for something to do during the long days, but Luna emerged from the Room one evening with a welt rising on her head where he had struck her with it. She had to physically restrain Ginny from charging into the Room to teach him a lesson.
School was little better, for a constant fear seemed to hang over the students. Quidditch had been cancelled for the rest of the year, which she bemoaned greatly in front of the team, but was just as well for Ginny. In light of the impossible task that now lay before them, Quidditch seemed a trivial use of time. This, coming from Ginny, probably would have knocked each of her brothers flat on their backs.
Luna spent nearly all of her spare time escorting students around the castle, the only upside to this being that Harper was equally busy and now had less time to tail Ginny and Luna. He had been marginally satisfied with the explanation that they had been chasing down a young Death Eater, not a student, when they had Stunned him out of confusion. Unfortunately, that also meant that the entire school knew they had been involved in the fight. All of the younger students moved around Ginny half as if she were some dueling champion and half as if she were about to break down in tears at any moment.
The only progress they made with Riddle was that, after the issue with the throwing, he did seem to be reading the books. Luna threw up a Shield Charm when she entered the Room, just in case, and excitedly brought him a few issues of the Quibbler. She reported that his moods swung wildly from cold and collected, sometimes even charming, to screaming mad depending on the day, and she added that no matter what there was an underlying tone of frustration in his moods. Ginny could not fault him on this; she swung so violently between speechless anger and wanting to curl up on her bed these days that it was no wonder she had first years walking on eggshells around her in the common room.
Her breaking point on both fronts came only a week after Dumbledore's death. Ginny had joined the Ravenclaw table for a change of pace and was finding their annoyed glances far more unnerving than Luna let on about the Gryffindors. Luna, after finishing her weekly perusal of the month's Quibbler, had reluctantly reached for a Daily Prophet that had been left on the table.
"Ooh!" she said after reading the first page (a glowing obituary for Albus Dumbledore, Ginny noticed). "Rita Skeeter! Ginny, didn't you see her at the funeral? She was sitting right behind you."
"No," Ginny answered, now wary. "What's she saying now?"
Luna did not answer, burying her nose in the newspaper once more. The longer she read, however, the lower her brow furrowed. Finally, she said, "Never mind this. Daddy's always said the Daily Prophet is rubbish anyways."
Ginny, who privately thought that Luna's father was quite the expert on rubbish journalism, took the paper with trepidation. "Dumbledore – The Truth at Last" was emblazoned across the top of the page, and as she started reading the article, she realized exactly what Luna had meant. Her incredulity grew with each word until the final bombshell at the end. Certain that it had been a mistake, she read it again.
"In a journalistic career, even one as vast as my own, one rarely has a chance to become exceptionally close with one's subjects because one must keep an objective perspective," says Skeeter. "Nonetheless, I can truly say that I have developed a close bond with Harry Potter. We met during one of the most trying moments in his life – the Triwizard Tournament. I am probably one of the only people alive who can say that they know the real Harry Potter."
Which leads us neatly to the many rumors still circulating about Dumbledore's final hours. Does Skeeter believe that Potter was there when Dumbledore died?
"Well, I don't want to say too much – it's all in the book – but witnesses saw Harry Potter running away from the scene moments after Dumbledore fell, jumped, or was pushed. Potter later gave evidence against Severus Snape, a man against whom he has a notorious grudge. You know I have nothing but love for the boy, but I am bound to report the facts. If you have been reading the Daily Prophet, you already know that he is beginning to push away even his closest friends (see page 10). Is everything as it seems? That is for the Wizarding community to decide—once they've read my book, due out in two weeks time."
Blinking furiously, Ginny turned to page ten. Her face, tearstained, stared morosely up from a small lifestyle column and Ginny almost dropped the paper. Dread welling up in her chest, she read on.
The Tragedy of the Boy Who Lived
The events of the past week have been a trying time for the entirety of the Wizarding world, but no one has been more strongly affected than young Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Reportedly at the scene of the crime when Dumbledore died, this is just another death in a string of misfortunes that have haunted the boy over the past five years. All across the Wizarding world, people are asking themselves: how does Harry Potter cope with the tragedy that is his life?
Poorly, this correspondent is sad to report. As most of the Wizarding community is aware, Harry Potter graduated last summer with an undisclosed number of NEWTs and a reported ambition to become an Auror, but has yet to apply for the training program or any intermediate jobs. His contact with the outside world is confined to a dangerously small group of people who seem to be working to keep things this way. Upon contacting the Weasley family for comment, a Daily Prophet reporter was sent a vicious Howler threatening her to stay away from the boy. Arthur Weasley, an employee at the Ministry of Magic, has been known to flout the laws he himself has written and obstruct investigations by this very office. Indeed, Harry's closest compatriots include many unsavory characters such as a werewolf and the half-giant, Hagrid, violent mentors who can have no good influence on the boy. Indeed, throughout his years at Hogwarts, Harry Potter became known for his extraordinary tempers.
"I was often quite scared of him," admits recent graduate, Pansy Parkinson. "He was always hexing my friends and I often heard him screaming at his own friends as well."
Sadly, this treatment of his friends was not a trait that Harry Potter left behind at school, and no one knows this fact better than Miss Ginevra Weasley, Harry Potter's girlfriend of two years. The pair was witnessed parting ways no more than seconds after Dumbledore was laid to rest. Miss Weasley was left nearly speechless while Potter cited nonsensical reasons, among which was the implication that he might soon be attending her funeral.
Commenting after the damage was done, a tearful Miss Weasley viciously said that Harry Potter "just can't help running off to 'save the Wizarding world'." This move to isolate himself from the rest of the world is further evidence that Harry Potter is walking a perilous path, one that might spell more destruction than a broken heart if he is not stopped.
Ginny slammed the paper down on the table so hard she overturned a pitcher of pumpkin juice. "What!" she snapped at the Ravenclaw who had opened his mouth to complain. Her face was hot and she had to keep blinking. She got up as Harper swept up to the table.
"Lovegood, meeting with the Heads of Houses."
Luna looked up from the syrup she was mixing in with her pumpkin juice and nodded, although McGonagall appeared behind Harper before she could get up.
"Mr. Harper, Miss Lovegood, I will be with you shortly. Miss Weasley, a word." Swallowing hard, Ginny fell in step behind McGonagall.
"I do hope someone will feed my pet Floberwing," Luna was saying loudly to Harper. "He tends to fraternize with tapestries if I'm not around, but I just don't have time tonight. I suppose I could let him out after the meeting…"
"What are you going on about, Lovegood?" Harper growled, but that was all Ginny could hear before the left the Great Hall. It had not helped the sinking feeling in her stomach, because she was fairly sure what Luna had been going on about.
To Ginny's surprise, McGonagall took her all the way to her office and shut the door against the ears of prying students. She settled down behind her desk and offered Ginny a biscuit before asking, "Have you been reading the Prophet, Miss Weasley?"
"Yes," Ginny bit out hard.
McGonagall raised her brow. "Ah, I see. Miss Weasley, I must then advise you that it would be unwise to write letters to Mr. Potter at the time being, though I can see why you might be inclined. We have good reason to believe that the Ministry has been deeply infiltrated and has been capturing and searching owls on the grounds of security. I do not know what Mr. Potter is doing under Albus' orders—" Here Professor McGonagall's voice cracked and Ginny hastened to interrupt her.
"Don't worry Professor; Harry and I aren't together anymore."
"Then it's true!" she said with some alarm.
"Of course not!" Ginny cried, defensive. "It's the only thing they got right!"
McGonagall coughed and took a moment to compose herself while Ginny looked politely away. "Pardon me, Miss Weasley. I am sorry to hear that. Nonetheless, do be careful what you write to your parents. If you need an explicit message passed to them, please come to me."
Ginny left McGonagall's office towards the kitchens feeling unreasonably frustrated. If even McGonagall, who Ginny did not peg as a gossip columnist reader, had seen the article, then her private life was certainly on display for the entire Wizarding world. With a stab she realized this could not have gone any better for their plan; with such a public break-up it would not be rumors that floated to Voldemort about who Harry loved, but news. So why did it rankle so terribly?
She collected Riddle's food in the kitchens wordlessly, swallowing something that felt stuck in her throat. What was worse, the elf who was friends with Harry seemed to be regarding her with something of a cold shoulder – for an elf anyway. "Here is the foods," he said, leaving off the colloquial "Miss." His already large eyes widened with shock and sudden guilt, as the rest of the elves seemed to shift collectively in discomfort, before he scurried away. Ginny had hardly gotten out of the dungeons when she realized tears were streaming down her cheeks. Even a house elf thought she was a bitter harpy!
Sir Cadogan found her somewhere along the second floor and followed her until the sixth, demanding that she name the hooligan who had wronged her so that he could avenge her tears. He stopped only when Ginny sent a furious Blasting Charm that barely missed the portrait of the Fat Lady's friend Violet that he had invaded. Both portraits protested violently, but Ginny charged past them.
Throwing the door open with a thundering crash, Ginny stormed into the Room of Requirement, cheeks still shining with furious tears. Tom surveyed her from where he lounged in his chair. The plate clattered when she dropped it down on the table and she glared fiercely at him, willing him to even breathe the wrong way at her right now. He swung himself silently out of the chair and stalked towards her, staring steadily. Ginny thought there was a line of frustration on his forehead – or was that a crease of amusement? Never taking his eyes from her, he sipped at the pumpkin juice she handed him. She crossed her arms over her chest, unwilling to step back even an inch when he stood over her.
"Pleasure to see you again, Ginny. So are you waiting for me to comfort you, or are you just hoping to get in a fight?" There was a hard edge of annoyance in his voice.
"Do I look like I need comforting from you?" she asked coldly.
His hand shot out and he brushed his thumb along her tearstained cheek with mock gentleness. "Oh? What's this?" She slapped his hand away violently and his lips curled. "Ah, a fight then."
"Keep your hands off me."
"You came in here looking for a fight, and it just so happens that I'm in the mood myself. So come on, Weasley, let's have it. What's got you blubbering like a homesick first year Hufflepuff?" The phrase "save the Wizarding world" fluttered up in her mind and immediately pushed aside all conviction concerning Tom Riddle. He needn't ask twice; her voice rose to meet his.
"I'm sorry, am I annoying you with my feelings? Let's get this straight right now, Riddle: I hate you and now I'm pretty sure you hate me, so excuse me if I don't cater to your preferences when I'm having a bad day."
"Bad day?" Tom shot back with a derisive laugh. "What could possibly constitute as a bad day for you? Too much Charms homework? Or did Potter finally come to his senses and drop you by the wayside? Merlin only knows what he saw in a squat stick of a girl like you."
Ginny couldn't help the blood rushing to her head. "I bet you've never even had a good snog, have you Riddle? Too busy enchanting diaries to seduce eleven-year-old girls?"
"Ah, so Potter did drop you. I can't imagine why – was it your obsessive control, your incessant pouting, or the fact that he can't trust you?"
"This is none of your business, but it was mutual and Rita Skeeter can go—"
"Oh, it was mutual!" Riddle threw back a cold, high laugh that twisted his features. "Of course it was not, you silly little girl. You haven't grown up in the slightest. What was it again? Oh, yes: Oh Tom," he cooed, quoting her memory, "no one has ever understood me like you! I suppose you thought that was mutual too?"
"Ginny, it was awful," Ginny crowed in a fair imitation of Tom's voice. "In the orphanage we never got three meals a day and all the other children hated me."
"Oh Tom, was it absolutely terrible? You're so brave to talk about it! What a sentimental idiot you are!"
"Better a sentimental idiot than a black-hearted idiot!"
Riddle prowled around her, hardly blinking. "There is nothing unintelligent about being un-weakened by foolish emotions."
"You think I'm weak? Look at you! You've been stuck in a room for half a year, only surviving because of us! I, the Dark Lord Voldemort, am being spoon-fed by two silly little girls. Maybe if I throw books at their heads it'll smooth things over!"
Riddle's wand hand darted reflexively to his pocket, but having no wand, he let out a sudden shriek of frustration. A potions manual they had brought for him exploded in a burst of Accidental magic. Ginny screamed a derisive laugh through the fluttering pages and pushed harder.
"I, the Dark Lord, am reduced to childish, uncontrollable magic and—"
"Shut up!" Riddle screamed. "Shut up, you filthy blood-traitor!"
"Better that than a backwards Slytherin bastard!"
Ginny yelped as Riddle hurled the glass of pumpkin juice at her, dodging it merely by the grace of her Quidditch reflexes. It shattered against the wall behind her, and as he lunged toward her, it was all the reason she needed to hit Riddle with her strongest Bat-Bogey Hex. She left him frantically warding his face against the hex and fired her Patronus through the wall. To her relief, Luna was there to open the door.
Luna was slightly pink, as if she had recently jogged the length of the castle. "You should know that Floberwings are not real," she said quickly. "I made it up to keep Harper from knowing about Tom." Luna's easy smile dropped off suddenly at the look on Ginny's face.
"I cursed him and he deserved it," Ginny growled. She stormed past Luna in a huff, fiercely ignoring her disapproving frown. She did not regret it for a minute; she had needed to scream at someone.
"Blasting portraits are you, missy?" said the Fat Lady when Ginny arrived at Gryffindor Tower. Violet was glowering down at her with arms crossed.
"Forbearance," Ginny snapped.
"You could use a bit yourself, dear," the Fat Lady tutted, but swung reluctantly open.