A/N: Woo! Another update already! I'm pretty happy with that.
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything and everyone. I own nothing, save for this particular idea.
Enjoy, and PLEASE review! I'm putting a bunch of them in my positive thinking journal, and the more the merrier!
There was a crack in the ceiling. It wasn't a very big one, but it was irritating her. Otherwise, the ceiling was perfectly flawless and white; it was that one jagged crack above her bed that marred it. The purity of the ceiling was ruined by such a small thing. And it bothered her.
She didn't say anything about it to Strout, the motherly witch in charge of the Janus Thickey ward, the long-term ward for patients that had gone a bit nutty. Strout would probably fix it in a second, but Ginny wasn't speaking to her. She wasn't speaking to anyone, and hadn't for the three days she'd been kept in there.
All Ginny had done since she'd been there was stare. Stare at mediwitches, stare at healers, stare at ministry wizards who wanted to know who she'd been shouting about, stare at other patients (including the aging Longbottoms), stare at the small window at the top of the back wall, stare at the ceiling. She hadn't spoken a word. What was the point? They'd only call her crazy. At this point, she wasn't sure they were wrong.
Tom had barely spoken to her since she'd gotten there, and now of all times she most wanted to hear his voice. She wanted him to tell her what to do, to give her some plan of escape. But all he did was assure her he was real and say something about Persephone and a pomegranate.
She'd been reassured by Strout over and over again that her family wanted to see her, it was just that they couldn't until she started talking. This made Ginny all the more silent – she wasn't sure if she wanted her family to see her or not. They'd probably try to put up brave faces, act like nothing was wrong as they had all this time. Her mother might cry. And all the while they'd all just think she was completely mad.
Again, she wasn't sure she wasn't mad.
I am real. You know this.
She let out a breath of air she hadn't realized she was holding. There he was again. His voice reassuring, exactly (he was, after all, the reason she was here), but at least he was there. And he didn't pity her, like Strout and some of the other patients did.
Speaking of Strout, she was standing over her now, the woman's warm brown eyes staring down at Ginny's absent ones.
"Hello there, dear," she said kindly, though a little condescendingly. She treated everyone in the ward like her own child, which wasn't nice when you already had a mother. "How are you feeling?"
Ginny thought this a silly questions to ask. For one, she obviously wasn't going to answer. For another, she obviously wasn't feeling very well. But she waited, knowing Strout would go on in a moment – the woman was very chatty.
"I know you decided not to join the other patients outside for some fresh air – which I think was a very poor idea, you know, fresh air would do you some good, you haven't left this ward for days – but I don't like you just sitting here doing nothing," the woman said, her words spilling out of her mouth almost incomprehensibly fast. "I know you're very sad you haven't seen your family, but I've decided to clear you for visitors! So you'll be able to see some familiar faces!"
Strout said this brightly, and Ginny scowled. She didn't want to see anyone – and more importantly, she didn't want anyone to see her!
"Your boyfriend – that lovely Harry Potter, what a lucky girl you are, he's so handsome and not to mention brave, if I were his age I'd, well, nevermind – is here to see you, and he brought something for you that should help quite a bit!"
Harry.
Ginny felt a surge of panic, the first emotion she'd felt in that last tree days that wasn't dull. She sat up quickly, and then grasped the edges of the bed when her head began to spin. She hadn't moved much the last few days, and quick movements made her dizzy. Her vision blurred.
When she could see clearly again, she looked around the room, and saw Harry standing by the door. He had a forced half-smile on his face, his glasses slightly crooked. He had obviously been wearing the same robes for a few days now.
"Hey, Gin," he greeted her weakly. Ginny nodded in reply, and he approached the bed while Strout left the room, leaving them alone.
Ginny didn't feel safe being left alone with Harry. Not because she was worried he'd hurt her – but because she was terrified she'd hurt him again. And she couldn't do it, she couldn't bear it if something happened to Harry because of her. She'd put him through enough.
"I brought you some chocolate," Harry said, offering her the candy bar as he took a seat at the end of her bed. She reached out and took it from him carefully, being certain to not put her hand too close to his. Her gaze remained locked on the chocolate bar, her heart unable to take the sight of him anymore. He still had bruises on his throat. She knew someone could have made them disappear easily, but he'd decided to keep them. And she didn't want to know why.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, and they sat there in silence as she started at the chocolate and he stared at her.
She broke off a piece of chocolate and popped it in her mouth. Then she watched as Harry set the wooden train on her bed.
"So Ginny..." Harry began slowly, and then he took a deep breath and forced his next words out. "Why were you carrying this around? And...who were you talking about, when you said 'he won't leave me alone'? Harker told us you were screaming about needing to be from someone. Who was it?"
Ginny took her time slowly chewing the chocolate and considered her response. Things would never get better if she stayed silent. But if she told the truth, things might get worse.
But what was the truth? She wasn't entirely sure anymore. Maybe she'd made everything up in her head. Maybe she already knew divers couldn't walk on land, maybe she'd imagined her room shaking, and maybe she'd just made Hades up. Maybe none of it was real. Maybe Tom Riddle's soul wasn't inside her.
What a relief that would be.
Maybe if she insisted it was true, it would be true.
She looked up at Harry, a weak smile on her lips and tears building in her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Harry. It wasn't real. He's not real."
"Who isn't real?"
"Doesn't matter," said Ginny, feeling better now as she bit off another chunk of chocolate. "It doesn't matter, Harry, because he's not really here. It doesn't matter. None of it does. I'm free, and alone in my head, and I was just under too much stress or something."
Harry shifted on the bed, and Ginny noted that he was beginning to reach for his wand.
"Who, Ginny...who isn't real?"
Ginny blinked at him, unsure of why he was reaching for his wand when she was just insisting she was sane. "It doesn't matter. I'm not in-between anymore. I'm not mad. I'm sane. And it's going to be okay. Because I've decided it will be. And because he isn't really here."
Harry was leaning away from her, and Ginny frowned in confusion. What was wrong with him? This was the sort of reaction she expected if she actually had told him Tom Riddle was in her head. Why would he move away from her if she was saying she was fine?
...And why was it that no matter how far back he moved, he seemed to move closer a moment later? And why was she so dizzy again?
Oh, no.
Ginny saw her hands at the edges of her vision, slowly moving towards Harry. Her body leaned forward of it's own free will, moving closer and closer to Harry.
Harry's face was too still and unemotional. She could see his worry, his fear. "Ginny, what are you doing?"
"I..." she started, then her body shook with a sob as her mind filled with fear. "I don't know! I don't know why I'm moving."
Harry glanced nervously at the door, and she could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He was going to make a break for the door, to get help.
"Do it, Harry," she insisted as she cried. "I don't know whats happening to me, go get help!"
Harry nodded and began to stand, but he paused a moment. "Gin – it's going to be okay. Just...I might be able to help if you tell me who it is you're afraid of."
"It's doesn't matter, Harry! He isn't real!" she screamed, then she looked to the crack in the ceiling. "YOU HEAR ME? YOU'RE NOT REAL. YOU'RE NOT REAL!"
Oh, but I am. And I will prove it to you.
There was another blur in her vision, and then she was standing between Harry and the door, his wand in her hand and pointed at him.
She took in a sharp breath as she realized she couldn't lower her arm.
"Oh, God, please help me..." she sobbed...and then the tears just stopped. Her shoulders ceased to shake, the gnawing feeling in her stomach went away. And her mouth smirked.
Harry stood slowly, staring at Ginny with horror. "...Gi-Ginny, what are you..."
A low chuckling sound came from her throat.
I told you my power was growing, little Ginevra.
"Avad-" her voice began saying the spell without any permission from her, but then stopped. Her arms moved and grasped Harry's wand in both hands, and her muscles strained until it broke in two pieces. Her hands flung the pieces of the wand to either side of the room. "No. This is better."
Harry went pale, and began to slowly move left, towards the beds lining the other side of the room. "Ginny...?"
Her head slowly shook. And then everything blurred again.
The next thing she knew she was on Harry, her legs around his hips and her hands around his throat. Her upper lip was pulled back as she snarled animalistically. Harry toppled backwards, but managed to keep on his feet until he reached a bed, where he turned and fell on top of her. He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed down while pulling himself up. Her hands slipped from around his throat, and her body rested there, breathing heavily.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I don't know what came over me," gasped her voice.
Harry stumbled backwards. "What has gotten into you, Ginny?" he asked, his voice oddly calm.
Her body moved to sit up, and then stand. It moved towards him, but Harry stepped back.
Her mouth smiled mockingly. "Lord Voldemort."
Harry blinked. "What? What are y-"
And then she was on him again, her right fist making contact with his right cheekbone, her left feet meeting the center of his rib cage. She heard a slight cracking sound, and Harry bent over, wincing.
"STOP Ginny!" he shouted, his eyes closed tight. "Stop!"
I'm trying! She thought, but she was unable to say the words. Her mouth wasn't under her control anymore. Nothing was under her control anymore.
Her foot raised and met his knee cap. Harry stumbled backwards, and Ginny's body sneered.
"I thought you were supposed to protect me, Potter," she spat, slowly approaching him. She chuckled dryly. "How did the great Harry Potter defeat the greatest Dark Wizard of all time, when he can't even protect himself?"
"What?" breathed Harry, wincing as he straightened. He paused, then questioned weakly, "...Ginny?"
"Yes, darling?" her voice asked, full of honey and venom. Then she swung her arm at him, and her nails dug into his cheek and drew blood.
Harry cried out, and then tried to run for the door. Ginny's body cut him off, shoving him to the ground with unnatural strength. She pressed a foot against his throat and began to press down, but Harry grabbed her leg and swung her around, throwing her to the floor. He was up and moving for the door a second later, but again her vision blurred and she appeared in front of him. She growled and launched at him again, her hands gripping his throat as she moved to the right and shoved him against the wall. Her arms pulled back and shoved Harry against the wall again, and then again, and then again. Harry's head hit the wall repeatedly, and though Harry tried to tear her hands off his throat, they stayed put. Her body held more strength then it ever had before.
"G-Gin...w...wh..."
"Because I despise you," she spat. She shoved his head against the wall again, and moved to do it again when something sharp entered her upper thigh. Her eyes looked down, and she saw the ivory end of a letter opener sticking out of her leg. Then she was on the ground, her head striking the floor hard. Unfazed, her body moved to pull the letter opener out of her leg, crimson blood dripping off the sharp gold end.
"Ginny, I'm sorry," breathed Harry, and he began to move around her towards the door again. The next thing she knew, she'd jammed the letter opener into his shin. Harry went down, and she pulled the letter opener out only to shove it back into his flesh, this time near his hip. She crawled on all fours towards him and straddled him, pulling the letter opener out again. Harry cried out, and gripped her arms, his nails digging into her arms as he tried to shove her off of him.
She – or Tom, who obviously now controlled her – threw her head back and laughed. Her left hand reached down and removed Harry's glasses.
"I want to see the life leaving your eyes," she explained to Harry.
"Ginny..." Harry breathed, but she could see in his eyes he was beginning to doubt it was really her.
Please, Harry, she begged in her head, Please see that it's not me.
Harry coughed weakly, then choked out, "Gin, I love you, don't do this."
"Shut up," she hissed. She raised the letter opener over her head, the sharp end of it pointed down at Harry's throat.
NO! she screamed, and tried her best to fight. Her arm shook in the air. No, please, please no, don't kill him, please don't make me kill him!
Her arm trembled again, and then a smirk came across her lips.
"It's your lucky day, Potter," she whispered, then moved off of him. She stood, and began limping back towards her bed, dropping the letter opener on the ground but keeping Harry's glasses. "I don't need you to die."
She heard Harry struggle to get on his feet. "HELP!" he shouted at the door, just now seeming to think of this solution. "SOMEONE HELP US! WE NEED HELP IN HERE, PLEASE!"
The bloody tips of her fingers brushed the top of the toy train, and then picked it up. Her blood flowed freely down her arm from a cut she didn't remember receiving, down over the wood, forever staining it.
With the train in one hand and Harry's glasses in another, she turned to face Harry with the smirk still on her face. Her blood dripped to the floor.
"Ginny, are you-"
"It's too late, Potter," said her voice. Then her voice laughed, fully, almost uncontrollably.
Harry began to approach, but Ginny slowly shook her head. "Ah-ah, Potter. You don't want to get too close. You'll have a better view of the show from a distance."
She could see Harry realize that the cold, sarcastic note in her voice didn't belong to her. And slowly, she could see him put the puzzle together.
"...You're not Ginny, are you?"
Her mouth smiled, but didn't move to answer. Instead, her eyes slowly closed, and then her voice whispered, "Contrarmo."
A wind picked up in the enclosed space, and the light grew so bright that though her lids were closed everything in the room seemed white.
"GINNY!" Harry screamed.
"Harry!" she cried, and felt pure relief when her mouth moved when she wanted it to. And then she felt cold terror. Tom had full control of her at last, control of her body and mind and could have easily killed Harry. But he chose not to.
What hell did he have in store instead?
The light cleared, and Ginny opened her eyes, but they were instantly stinging from the smoke that filled the room. She coughed as heat filled her lungs, and tried to look around the room for Harry.
"Harry?"
"I'm over here!" he shouted, somewhere ahead of her. She reached her arms out, and tried to move towards him through this veil of white. His glasses slipped from her grip as she moved slowly forward.
"Harry?"
"Ginny! Are you okay?"
"Harry, I can't find you!"
"I'm over here, Ginny! Come here!"
She felt tears making their way down her cheeks, but she didn't know if it was from the smoke, the relief or the fear that she couldn't find Harry in this room. "Harry, I'm here, find me!"
"Hold on, Ginny. I'm here, I'm coming."
And from beside her came another voice. "And I am here."
Ginny's body turned cold, white and still. She recognized that voice. Oh, she knew it by heart. And it wasn't supposed to be heard on the outside. It was supposed to be inside.
"Who is that?" asked Harry's voice, still far from her.
Ginny didn't want to know. She didn't want to move, she didn't want to see what she had done. But at the same time...it was inevitable.
With a slow breath, she turned to the side. In the smoke, she could only make out a tall, dark shape. But the smoke was slowly leaving the room through the window, and she was starting to be able to see other features. A small, slightly wide but well-shaped nose. A pair of full, slightly wide and handsome peach-colored lips. Almond-shaped eyes, a strong jaw, high cheekbones. And then she could see black hair falling into the dark, cruel eyes, stark contrast to the pale white skin. Extraordinarily long fingers moved to push the strands out of the handsome face. The familiar face.
It had aged some. It wasn't the youthful face that was burned in her memory, but older, perhaps twenty-five or twenty-six now. But she knew his face anywhere. And she knew even Harry could recognize the cold, high-pitched laugh the lovely mouth released as the smoke cleared more and the dark eyes locked on her.
Tom Riddle was alive again.
"Hello, Persephone," he greeted her.
Artificial: My father came up with the Ginny-versus-Harry duel idea, when I was about three chapters into this. xD So thanks to him for that! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and more so I hope you all kind of hate me for the cliffhanger, haha. Please review, and have a fantastic day/night!