Hello readers, I still don't have an upload schedule, but happy reading!
The pain in the back of her head was sudden but only lasted for a couple of seconds. It was enough to make her hiss loudly in the middle of Charms and for her fingers to go searching for the apparent injury. Several heads turned to look at her, but Ginny ignored them, scowling at the ones that decided to look for too long.
Strange, she thought, putting it off to stress and blood loss and not giving it much thought. She tried to fix her attention of Flitwick's lecture, watching the small man bounce up and down as he droned on about the importance of proper wand movements. The task however, proved to be far too demanding, and Ginny found herself leaning into her hand and staring at nothing in particular.
Her next class was Potions, which was guaranteed to be awful. It didn't matter how well she brewed or generally how good she was at the subject, in Snape's eyes the combination of being a Gryffindor, a Weasley, and a red head meant that everything she did was unacceptable.
Oh how she wished he had become the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, at least then she'd only have to put up with him for another year. The position was cursed, everyone knew it. Some put it down to superstition and some say even You Know Who originally wanted the job and when denied he made sure no one would keep it for longer than a year. Ginny wasn't sure what to believe, and frankly she didn't care. The important thing was it meant Umbridge was leaving next year.
Was it even possible to hate someone as much as she hated the pink clad witch? Sure she hated Malfoy and people that walked slowly and chewed with their mouths open, but the sheer about of anger that filled her system whenever she saw that stupid toad face was a little unnerving.
The day moved quickly and uneventfully. Ginny moved from class to class, speaking to Cynthia and Carly when she could, and the strange pain in her head didn't return.
By the time dinner rolled around it had left her mind completely. She sat between Cynthia and an older boy she didn't know the name of. The hall was bustling with noise as usual. The ceiling was a gloomy grey colour, dark rain clouds looming over their heads. Every so often the room would be filled with the gentle rumble of thunder and sometimes it was hard to tell if it was coming from the ceiling or from outside.
Ginny piled mashed potatoes onto her plate, eating quickly and nodding along to the outlandish story Cynthia was whispering into her ear. Her attention was elsewhere however; specifically several seats down from her.
Being the sister of one of Harry Potter's friends meant that she learnt than whenever the trio was huddled together hurriedly whispering frantically to each other it meant that something serious was probably happening.
It was Ron who noticed her staring, and promptly elbowed Harry before shooting her a glare sticking his tongue out and acting as though nothing had happened. Ginny rolled her eyes, deciding she didn't want to be involved in whatever the three of them were plotting.
She had started taking the diary with her everywhere again, just as she had when she was eleven. The book was tucked into the waistband of her pants and covered by the material of her shirt. Part of it was because she was growing increasingly paranoid that someone would find it, but a tiny part of her felt compelled to keep it close to her; to keep Tom close to her. She didn't know how to explain it, and she didn't care all that much to understand.
"Ginny are you listening?" Cynthia said, poking her in the cheek.
Ginny shook her hand away. "Yeah, sorry got lost in thought."
The other girl rolled her eyes. "What happened to your hand?"
The sound in the Great Hall seemed to disappear completely as Ginny felt the unease settle in her stomach. As if on cue, Ginny felt the unpleasant tingling of someone staring. She turned to see Umbridge smiling at something one of the other professors had said.
She shook her head as though the anxious thoughts would fly out of her head.
"I had an incident with the staircase." The lie came easy, one of the perks of being part of a huge family.
Cynthia laughed, and when Ginny was satisfied that her friend was convinced, she turned her attention back to her dinner, her fingers brushing against her waistband just to make sure that the diary was still there.
It had to be somewhere around 2am when Ginny woke up that morning. Her limbs ached as though she had just been running around for hours. Her blankets were twisted around her legs and her forehead was slick with sweat, her hair stuck to her skin.
Her breathing was rapid, her chest rising and falling erratically, only tiny amounts of air entering her lungs.
She had woken up from a nightmare, that was the only way to explain the unreasonable terror that was rattling through her system, but for the life of her she couldn't remember anything.
Groaning, she pressed her hands into her eyes, willing herself to fall back asleep. She stayed like that for a while, how long exactly, she couldn't tell. Eventually her breathing evened out, and her trembling stopped.
Her room was cool thanks to the October air coming through the opened window. She wasn't sure who had left it open, but she didn't care. Her skin was flaming and when she held a hand against her forehead she was surprised to find it hot to the touch.
Ginny untangled herself from her blankets and stumbled to the bathroom in the dark, taking care not to step on any other the other girl's belongings that were strewn around the floor.
The tiles were a welcome coolness against her bare feet, and for a moment she was tempted to lay on top of them, just to cool her body down. She decided against it however, scared that someone would walk in and see her and she'd have to explain what was happening.
She turned the tap on, running her hands under the cold water before starting to wash her face.
Ginny was reminded of being eleven years old again, waking up in the middle of the night from nightmares she couldn't remember. Only now that she was older, she didn't wake up screaming. That was a blessing at least; she didn't feel like talking to anybody.
Once she felt less feverish, she stepped out the bathroom, pulling sweaty hair away from her face. She sat on her bed, wide awake and knowing that sleep was something that was far out of reach.
She closed the curtains around her bed, grabbed her wand from under her pillow and cast an almost silent lumos and grabbed the diary.
For a second she wondered if Tom would be asleep, and then she found herself wondering if he could sleep. He was just a soul trapped in a book; he didn't need to eat or drink, so why would he need to sleep. But then again, he was capable of feeling and apparently seeing sometimes. There was only one way to find out.
I can't sleep. She wrote, watching the ink sink into the page.
His reply took longer than usual to appear, which made Ginny think that he was in fact asleep. Even his writing looked different, shakier and larger, as though his eyes were still blurry from sleep.
Why not?
The question was in the centre of the page; staring at her, waiting for a response.
Ginny's ears tinged pink with a surprising embarrassment. She didn't want to admit she'd had a nightmare, but a small part of her knew that Tom could tell when she was lying.
I'm not sure. She replied. She watched Tom scribble in the corner of the page, feeling like she was watching him think. The lines disappeared as suddenly as they appeared, and she wondered if she had actually seen them at all.
I used to like walking when I couldn't sleep.
She considered the option. It was late enough that most of the teachers and prefects were asleep, so her chances of getting caught were slim. All she had to worry about was getting back to bed before her roommates woke up.
And so her mind was made up. She dressed for the day, wearing her winter uniform for the first time that year and taking care to subtly roll her skirt up past the 'recommended' knee high length. She pulled her hair away from her face, too tired to style it nicely and instead tying it in a simple ponytail behind her neck. She snuck back to the bathroom to brush her teeth and rub some perfume on her wrists.
She left her book-bag next to her bed, leaving only with her diary and a quill, both of which were tucked safely in the waistband of her skirt.
Tom knew that she had taken his advice of taking a walk when he felt the gentle shake of movement in his confined world.
The connection wasn't strong enough yet, he decided. That was a definite, and he realised it the second he tried to get inside her head when she was sleeping. If he couldn't get into her head when she was unconscious, there was no way he'd be able to do while conscious.
He needed more blood, but he was painfully aware of her hesitance. The last time she had given in was a moment of recklessness fuelled by a rush of overwhelming emotions.
She was trusting him more though, but slowly. Agonisingly slow. Tom had to admit that he was glad that the girl had grown out of the childish urge to trust everyone that spoke to her.
And so everything had become a waiting game again, but Tom had grown incredibly patient in his years trapped inside the book.
He could wait as long as he needed to, or at least he told himself that he could. In reality he knew that he would grow impatient, and that as more time passed, the chance of him shattering all of his hard work increased.
He was hit with a mix of emotions. Frustration at how slow everything was moving, but satisfaction at the fact that progress was being made. On top of all of that he felt strangely content. Partly because he wasn't alone in the diary anymore; though he was introverted and preferred the company of himself than anyone else, he was still human; and carried the human flaw that meant he could never be completely satisfied on his own. But more importantly, he felt content because everything was falling into place. It may have been slow progress but it was progress all the same and it meant he could move onto the next step of his plan when Ginevra allowed him to.
I don't like this chapter, but my beta reader liked it so I'll trust her opinion. I finally have most of the major plot points planned out, so I should be able to update quicker. Again a big thank you to everyone who left a review, you guys are my main motivation for writing this fic!
- Red xx