A/N: Time flies when you're not having fun.
I'm sorry for the wait. Life has been stressful. Not that it's any excuse to blow this off, but…you know, it happens. Especially when your mother has a heart attack. Ergh.
BUT ANYWAY.
I hope you enjoy this chapter. It feels a bit…off to me, but most of my writing usually feels off and people seem to like it anyway. Crazies. xD So anyway, enjoy!
"The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane." - Marcus Aurelius
Ginny woke and rolled to her side, and noticed Shikoba sleeping peacefully on her pillow. Her eyes widened, and she jumped out of her bed. The bird slowly opened an eye to look at her, and then fell back asleep. But the shaken girl could felt her body trembling. She'd slept with that thing in her bed. She didn't know what it was…or, a much scarier thought, who it was. She had decided not to trust it, but then…last night…
Riddle had tricked her.
How have I tricked you?
"You convinced me to trust it…" said Ginny, gasping for air. It felt as though her anger was fiery enough to burn off her oxygen.
I simply told you to trust yourself. If your judgment was incorrect, than it was you who tricked yourself.
"You convinced me," Ginny insisted. "I don't know how you did it, or why, but somehow you got into my mind and made me trust it."
It would seem I am already inside your mind, Ginevra.
"Shut up," Ginny muttered. "Just leave me alone, okay? Just for one day. Leave me the hell alone."
She threw open her dresser, grabbed some clothes and then moved it back to the side of the room it normally belonged. Then she left her room, not even glancing back at the bird inside it. Riddle said a few more cryptic things to her, but she ignored the comments and took a bath.
The steam that was rising up from the bath smelled sweet from the salts she'd poured in, a floral scent that was part rose and part lavender. She let the heat seep into her body and relax her constantly aching muscles. She closed her eyes and just…breathed. All she did was breathe.
She'd been lucky that thus far Riddle hadn't tried talking to her when she was bathing, or changing. Ginny wasn't sure if she could deal with anything like that. It was already obvious he had more power of her than she thought, she didn't want him to gloat about it while she was nude and vulnerable.
Once she was finished bathing, she changed into fresh clothing. She'd been wearing the same sort of clothes over and over again, and she hadn't changed her pants before then. But now she put on a clean set of olive robes. She braided her long, red hair then twisted it into a bun. And then she began down the stairs for breakfast.
It wasn't as though Ginny felt any better than she had the last few weeks. But practicing with George had somehow pulled her out of her repetition. She still couldn't bring herself to smile or feel any sort of hope of escaping Riddle, but she could wash and dress and eat. She wasn't sure what else she was capable of. Perhaps she could ask Hermione to bring her some books for research, but it felt as though that would be completely in vain. Ginny had already done research and never heard of a witch or wizard hearing a voice…
But then, she had never looked up anything to do with someone leaving part of their soul in a person. Maybe if she looked up something on possession….but then, possession was different from Horcruxes, wasn't it?
Was that was she was? A Horcrux?
Of course she was, or at least…something like it. That was why Riddle had pointed out the fact that she'd killed the chickens, wasn't it? Maybe he'd turned her into some sort of…miniature horcrux. He'd left part of his soul in her, after all.
But that meant that the only way to be free was to stab herself with a baskilisk fang, or the Sword of Gryffindor.
How poetic it would be for a Gryffindor to end her life with his sword.
Ginny stopped in the stairway, and glanced around to be sure that no one was around her. She looked into the glass of a window that faced the garden, but instead of gazing out across the green outside, she stared into her own reflection.
"Is that what you want from me?" she whispered bitterly. "Do you want me to kill myself?"
Why would I wish that, little Ginny?
"Because you hate me."
Mignon McLaughlin, fifty eight, sixty two.
"Shut up about that," she muttered, turning to begin down the stairs again. "It doesn't mean anything."
The more you insist something doesn't mean anything, the more you show you know it does.
"You're not making any sense," Ginny whispered, knowing she was also repeating words from their previous conversation. But it was true, it had to be true, there were no other options. He must be just spouting nonsensical things to her. There was no possible way those quotes had anything to do with anything. There was just…no way.
Ginny arrived in the kitchen, her heart racing. George had, after all, seen her scream at her broom and run away. And Harry was obviously beginning to worry about her. He was suspicious of something. But she didn't dare to hope that either of them suspected anything that was true. Most likely they suspected her of being mad.
Oh, how she ever wished she were mad.
She looked around the kitchen, and instead of tensing for an onslaught of questions, she tensed with surprise. Everyone was sitting at the kitchen table – everyone. Her mum and dad, Ron, Percy and George. Even Harry and Hermione were there, grinning up at her.
"Good morning, Gin," greeted Hermione.
Recovering, Ginny managed to force a small smile. "Morning, Hermione. It's good to see you." She was happy to see Hermione. Relieved, really – she didn't think her mother would ever let her have company again.
Speaking of which, her mother seemed overly cheerful. She'd immediately stood when Ginny arrived and filled a plate with sausages, fried bread, bubble and squeak, grilled tomatoes, fried eggs, baked beans, hash browns, bacon and fried mushrooms. And she did so while whistling.
"Have a seat, Ginny," she said, pulling a chair out at the table for her daughter. Ginny walked over and took the seat, and noticing the cup of still-steaming-hot tea and glass of orange juice filled with ice. She now smiled genuinely and took a few scalding gulps of the tea.
"Thanks, mum," she said, looking across the table as she picked up her fork. "Breakfast looks great." It was far more than she could ever eat, but it smelled incredible. She took a bite of the eggs and marveled at how good food tasted. She'd barely eaten the last few days and knew better than to eat too quickly, lest she give herself a stomachache, but it was so tempting to just scarf everything down.
Ginny sat across from her parents, with George and Percy on either side of them. Beside Percy sat Ron of all people, and by him sat Hermione. Next to George was Harry, leaving Ginny sitting between her best friend and her boyfriend. If she could even call Harry that anymore.
A part of her wanted to break up with him just to save him from Riddle.
Suddenly, she felt as though a wave had crashed over her body. At first she looked down at her body, half-expecting to see ocean water soaking her clothing. But it wasn't cold water seeping through her skin…it was something else that was somehow both icy and burning at the same time. It threatened to choke her to death, and it's grip tightened around her chest. She felt as though she would vomit from the disgusting feeling inside her, and the dizzy spell didn't help any. Her skin was crawling, like there were thousands of tiny spiders crawling over it. She was just so filled with…with…
Complete and utter hatred.
She could feel Riddle's hatred of Harry, and it choked her. It's strength was incredible, and never before had Riddle been able to manipulate her emotions like that. It was completely terrifying.
She set aside her fork and drank some of the juice, and she was sure that George noticed how her hands shook as the wave began to subside.
Maybe she wouldn't break up with Harry. That was obviously what Riddle wanted from her. Maybe she would just tell –
Your King is in check, Ginevra. Remember that.
Ginny decided it was best to stop thinking and focus on eating. She took a bite of the grilled tomatoes.
What was really incredible about everyone being at the breakfast table was that no one was fighting. Ron and Percy seemed to be standing each other's presence, though they wouldn't look at each other. Her mom still looked as though she hadn't slept but she wasn't snapping at anyone. Her father even looked a little rosy-cheeked. And they were having an actual table conversation – something about gnomes in the garden again. Was everything getting better? And how could that happen overnight?
It was all very strange.
"And there are doxys in the attic again," her mother was saying when Ginny began to focus on the conversation, "So I'll need someone to go out and buy some doxycide."
"Well Harry and I are needed at the Ministry," said Hermione, "and the Daily Prophet wanted to interview Ron again."
"You've already got me and Percy clearing the garden of gnomes," laughed George. Laughed. "You're not making me go to Diagon Alley too."
"Well your father has to be at work and I have other errands to run…" sighed Mrs. Weasely. "I suppose Ginny will just have to do it."
Ginny choked on the fried bread. She took a few gulps of tea to wash it down before gasping, "Me?"
"Well I need someone to get it," Ginny's mum said, setting down her mug of tea. "And you haven't wandered off in a while. It'll be healthy for you to get out of the house for a while, and I'm sure I can trust you to come straight back."
Ginny stared, wide-eyed. How had this happened? Just yesterday she was sure she would be locked up in the house for months. What had changed so quickly?
But she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She desperately needed out, and this temporary lift of her grounding seemed her best chance.
"Okay," she said, almost hesitantly.
"Great," said her father, glancing at her with a slight grin. "You can go by Floo powder so you can get there and back faster."
"While you're there," continued her mother as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a shopping list written on a piece of parchment. "I also need you to stop by Scribbulus for some ink and a peacock feather quill, Eeylopes for some owl treats…lets see…tail-twig clippers, a revealer and spellotape at the junk shop, Potage's cauldron shop for a new cauldron – the bottom is burnt on ours, make sure the new one is pewter. Also drop by one of the book shops for a copy of Enchantment In Baking, Encyclopedia of Toadstools, and Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms. And if you can, find a flower vendor for some new flowers for the table."
Ginny blinked as she took a bite of her eggs, then set down her fork to accept the list her mother was passing to her. It was quite a list, considering she was originally just being sent for doxycide. Had her mother really not had time to buy these things? Did they really need a peacock feather quill or Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms?
Something strange was going on. She just wished she could figure out what it was.
When breakfast was finished, Ginny grabbed her purse and put on some shoes, and wondered how on earth she was going to carry all those items back by herself. Her father gave her the money for the items, and slipped her a few extra sickles so she could visit Florean's for a double scoop of pistachio.
With everything she needed for a day at Diagon Alley, Ginny stepped into the fireplace and used the Floo Powder to travel to the grate in the Leaky Cauldron.
Molly Weasely was clearing the table of the breakfast dishes, most of which were still completely full of food. Her husband had gone upstairs to search Ginny's room, and her sons, Harry and Hermione were in the next room. She could hear their conversation, and turned to watch now and then.
"She seems fine today," said Percy, a little gruffly as he collapsed on the couch. "She bathed, ate, dressed…she even left the house."
Ron gritted his teeth, causing his jaw bone to jet out a bit more than it ought to. He stuck his hands roughly in his pockets. "You didn't hear her on the stairs, Percy. She was talking to someone who wasn't there – asking if it wanted her to kill herself."
Bill, who was sitting on the other side of Percy, sighed as he rested his head in his hands. They were losing Ginny to madness. He had lost Fred…and now he was losing his little sister. It was too much.
Ginny's father came down the stairs. "I found these," he said, holding up some papers that were completely covered in ink writing. "I don't know what they mean."
Hermione took the papers and examined each side. "It's the Lady of Shalott," she said as she handed them to Harry. "An old Muggle poem about a woman who is cursed to live in a tower and never look at the outside world. When she does, she dies."
"Some of this repeats. She wrote this one part…'the curse has come upon me'…over and over and over again," said Harry, and everyone noticed his voice catching. He passed the papers to Mrs. Weasely when she stepped into the room and pretended to adjust his glasses as he wiped a tear off of his face.
"So what do we do?" asked Percy, his voice nearly devoid of emotion.
Bill stood up from the couch, and folded his arms across his chest. "We save her."
"How?" asked Ron.
"St. Mungo's," said Harry. "I already contacted some healers who think that the stress has gone to her head. They said it's pretty common for people in Ginny's situation to have hallucinations. They also think a curse may have gone astray and hit her and messed with her mind."
"The sooner we get here there, the better," said Molly Weasely, and her husband nodded in agreement.
"I'll go talk to them about when we can bring her in," said Arthur, picking up the bowl that held the Floo powder. "If it's the stress, that should be able to be fixed right away. If it's a curse…"
"It'll be fine," insisted Hermione. "I'm sure there's some kind of magic to reverse it."
Arthur nodded, though his face was still pale. He knew better than to believe that everything could be fixed with a bit of magic. Magic was what had done this to his daughter.
With a grim look on his face, Arthur stepped into the fireplace and headed for St. Mungo's. After he left, Harry and Hermione used the fireplace to burn the papers containing six copies of The Lady of Shalott. Ron and Percy went to de-gnome the garden, only bickering under their breaths. When the papers were finished burning, Harry and Hermione went to the kitchen to help Mrs. Weasely clean up the breakfast mess.
Only Bill remained in the sitting room, standing still with his arms folded across his chest, pale and unmoving. He was still there when breakfast was cleaned up and Hermione and Harry left. He was still standing there when Percy and Ron came in, apparently intent on settling which of them was better at Wizard's Chess. He was still there when his mother went upstairs to her room.
It was two hours later, when he realized that his sister would be home soon, that he left the house. Maybe walking would be a good thing for him. Maybe the movement of his body would spark the movement of his mind.
It took Ginny three hours to get everything at Diagon Alley, and most of that was spent attempting to carry all the damn things she'd had to buy. The cauldron was especially difficult to move around, and she'd had to use a levitation spell to get it to follow her back to the Leaky Cauldron.
Overall, though, it was a fairly pleasant trip. She'd gotten two scoops of ice cream – one pistachio, one chocolate chip – and sat down to relax and enjoy it. It had been…maybe years since she'd had ice cream. Once upon a time, it had been her favorite thing about Diagon Alley, when her family could afford to buy a scoop each for their kids. Now they could probably buy the place, if they had a mind to do it. Helping to save the world came with a rather nice paycheck.
After the ice cream, it was nice to look at the shops and mingle with people again. She even saw Dean Thomas, and managed to have a short but happy conversation with him. He'd always been one of the bravest boys she'd ever known, and she admired him for it. She finally mentioned it to him while they stood in line to buy books. He laughed the compliment off, and said that though Ginny was great at seeing the way people really were below the surface (he added that he supposed she got that trait after 'that mess' in her first year) she had to be wrong this time. But Ginny still remembered his showing great character in so many situations. He never once screamed at her when Ginny broke up with him to be with Harry, he made friends with 'Loony' Lovegood easily, he always believed in Harry and he wanted to help fight during that last awful battle against the Death Eaters, even though he didn't have a wand. He was, in many ways, Ginny's hero. Her head started to spin when she noticed the books he was buying were on pregnancy, and she only managed a semi-enthusiastic hug before he wished her a good day and ran off to be with his wife.
After that was when Ginny did most of her shopping, and was extremely pleased by the silence in her head. Tom didn't speak once during the trip, at least not until the very end when she spotted some roosters in the window at Magical Menagerie. Then he began talking about the night he'd controlled her and made her kill the roosters. She tried to drown him out by humming the little tune her mother had been whistling that morning.
When Ginny finally got back home, she felt…refreshed. Today had been a better day than many of the ones she'd had before. She had taken a bath, gotten dressed, left the house, enjoyed ice cream, talked to an old friend…everything felt almost normal.
Except that the house was completely silent. Confused, Ginny quickly put down her purchases and looked at the clock in the sitting room. Ron, Bill, Percy and her mother were all outside. Her father…
Her father was at St. Mungo's.
Ginny felt as though something were crashing over her head, though she wasn't sure what it was. It was like a wave of water that washed over her and now she was drowning. Drowning in sheer panic. But she recognized this feeling now. This feeling didn't belong to her. It belonged to Tom.
But Ginny herself was relieved. Maybe her family knew that something was wrong with her. Now they could help her! Now she could tell them what was happening, and they could find a way to be rid of him without her needing to end her own life.
Don't you understand, Ginevra? Tom's voice remained calm though it had a hint of anguish to it. They will never believe you. They will lock you up forever. Completely alone – with only me for company.
"I thought that was what you wanted. And besides, they wouldn't do that," she breathed, but suddenly she wasn't so sure. The only way she had been able to prove to herself that Tom Riddle was really inside her was by realizing that she didn't know divers couldn't walk on land and therefore couldn't have told herself that. How was that going to prove anything to her family, or to the healers? For all they knew, she'd charmed the bird herself. For all they knew, she'd always known divers couldn't walk. What proof could she really give them that she wasn't just hearing voices?
Do you understand now the danger you are in? Be careful of your movements from now on, my Lady of Shalott. If you leave the safety of your home, you could easily befall the same fate. Be careful not to set any other pieces of this story in motion.
It might have been the most he'd ever said to her at once, but it was also the most confusing thing. What movements of hers had caused this danger? How could leaving her house kill her? What pieces of what story could she set into motion? And how?
Did Tom mean that if she tried to tell anyone, she could die? That going to St. Mungo's would kill her? Or that somehow…could she hurt someone else?
It worried her a little that she kept referring to him as 'Tom' now.
The door to the kitchen swung open, and Ginny quickly turned from the clock.
Ron rushed into the sitting room, unusually pale, with a tint of green in his cheeks.
"Ron?" asked Ginny, confused. "Whats wrong?"
"You need to come with me. Right now."
The body was found floating face-down in the nearby lake. It wore a pair of dark wash jeans, a grey Tshirt with some rock band's name printed in black lettering all over it, and hiking boots. A cowboy hat floated nearby. When the body was rolled over, it revealed a young man of maybe twenty years, with unruly black hair, green eyes and wearing a pair of familiar glasses. The part that stood out most about the corpse was the lightning-shaped scar across it's forehead.
It wasn't Harry. When Ginny arrived Harry stood nearby the lake, being interviewed by Aurors. But still, seeing the face of the person she loved most in the world on someone who was dead caused a sudden and intense shock of pain straight to her heart, and she couldn't stop herself from sobbing.
The body belonged to a Muggle hiker, who had gotten separated from his group a day earlier. Obviously, some witch or wizard had captured him, brewed the Polyjuice Potion using something from Harry, and force-fed it to the poor man. And then killed him using one of the Unforgivables.
It was a warning. A warning that Harry was in danger. A warning that the person who wanted him dead could get close enough to take his hair.
Tom Riddle had continuously reminded her that he had controlled her in order to kill roosters. And he had proved that he could control her now.
Oh, dear God.
Was it her? Had Tom used her to secretly brew the potion, feed it to the man and then kill him, and dump his body where he was sure to be found?
Was Tom showing her that he could use her to murder Harry any time he wished?
Checkmate.
Artificial: A great big 'good job!' to linnfromia for catching that Tom was tricking Ginny into trusting Shikoba. So…good job! xD Please review!