A/N: Hello again, my lovely readers! :) So here's another quick chapter in the story-this time set in COS time, and is once again in Ginny's Perspective. However, next weeks chapter should be from Harry's. Hopefully. That's what I'm aiming for, anyways. Anyways! This song is from the lovely Phantom of the Opera (Which I have also written a fic for-shameless plug. ;)) and is called Wandering Child-which is a great song, and my favorite from the musical. So, if you liked it, leave a review, and I shall see you next week! :)
Wandering child, so lost, so helpless...
She felt dizzy as she woke, and remembers quickly running to the loo to empty her stomach before looking down at her hands in horror as she see's-paint? Blood?-on them, and doesn't remember how it got there.
She's not stupid, regardless of what Tom may think of her. She knows something is wrong, she just doesn't know what it is. Terrified, she tries to get ride of that diary in the bathroom as the moaning ghost watches her in suspicion.
She doesn't even feel pain as she lays in the chamber, her eyes closed as she barely-but still can-hear Tom taunting her.
"Poor, innocent little Ginny...forever the youngest, forever in love with a boy who doesn't even know of your existence. I'm doing you a favor, child-the end of your frail existence for something so much greater..."
No, her mind screams, I will not die so that a monster may live...
And that alone, keeps her alive long enough.
She suddenly wakes at the sound of her name being called in a voice so much different than Tom's;
"Ginny? Ginny, come on, wake up; please wake up..."
Her mind struggles to register who it is talking to her; had she died? Was this her unseen angel, come to take her away to heaven? She feels like she cannot, should not go to heaven for the crimes she has committed...but then she opens her eyes.
And Harry-Harry, wonderful, glorious Harry-is kneeling before her, his boyishly handsome face covered in grime and blood, and those green eyes stare back at her as if only she's the only thing that matters right then and there.
And as she throws her arms around his neck and cries, she thinks that this is better than her own angel, because this was a real and tangible thing.
This was Harry.