Harry of Hog and the Saga of Hogswarth
A/N: Now following a different storyline! I quite liked writing this perspective, and I am already looking forward to doing it again. I've tried to vary my writing style a little from the previous chapter, as we are inside a different mind, and will therefore experience the world differently. This chapter is a bit more sombre, but I think to portray the situation differently would be to do it injustice. Oh and on a sidenote, in case you were wondering: I do know it's Hogwarts. But in my story it's Hogswarth so the associations with a nice magical school are lessened, it's not a mistake.
On another note – guys, please review. It is the only way I can know if anyone actually reads this! And that's why you write fanfiction after all, to share your imagination with others and to get feedback on your writing. I like writing this story a lot, so I don't want to be discouraged by the fact that only two people are getting anything out of it... Thank you both for reviewing, I am relieved to hear that you actually like it, and I hope you will continue to read the story.
Chapter 3: Princess
It would be a beautiful day. The sun was rising, gradually bathing the castle in a brilliant orange light, the clouds pink and purple in the sky above.
Ginny could see as much through her small window in her bedchamber. She could also see the village of Hogsmeade some way away, and if she squinted, she thought she might be able to make out a few people, children it looked like, running across the village square. Ginny sighed, and turned away. She had already wasted away many hours of her life gazing at the village, imagining that the people she saw had red hair, and if so they might be related to her, and maybe one day they would be heading up the road leading to the castle, coming to take her home. Of course she had long ago given up any hope of that happening, and in her heart she really did not want her family to come – her regular peasant parents and siblings would be no match for the guards, and she did not wish them to get hurt. Rather know they were out there, safe, and not even all that far away. Well truthfully she did not know if they were safe, or if there was even any of her family left in Hogsmeade, but at least she could imagine that they were all right, she could choose to believe that no news were good news. She still had that liberty.
Not that Ginevra of Burrow had no freedom. In fact she was treated with the utmost respect from most of the servants, and she was permitted to move quite freely around the castle and its grounds – but she had never ventured beyond. Hogswarth was heavily guarded of course, but Ginny had never even attempted to escape. Lord Riddle had made it quite clear to her one day many years ago what would happen if she set one foot past the designated areas, and Ginny remembered the threat quite clearly –
"If you wrong me girl, your family will be dead and their heads on sticks outside your window before you can say 'Albus'," Riddle had taunted. Ginny had never seen anyone from her family, and didn't fancy meeting them this way. And she already felt so powerless cooped up in this dumb castle not being able to protect her aging parents, this was all she could do to help ensure their safety.
But Ginny did glimpse a faint hope in the distance. Soon she would become of age, and she knew very well what would happen then – Riddle had informed her already when she turned ten years old that when she was ready she was to become his wife. This was why Ginny had not been enslaved like the other girls who had been Ladies-in-training when Riddle had taken over, and had so much liberty compared to the servants. And as much as Ginny dreaded and feared that day, she held onto a tiny hope that perhaps among the villagers, who would be allowed to come to watch the festivities leading up to the wedding, she would be able to glimpse a few freckled faces with the red hair she had come to know was a strong family trait. She knew this from her maid Parvati, one of the enslaved girls. Ginny had two maids actually, but Lavender was less talkative than Parvati was – Ginny figured she was probably afraid of punishment, and she did not blame the girl. While Ginny was able to walk wherever she was, Riddle had a much tighter leash on them all regarding conversation. They were not permitted, for instance, to speak bad of His Lordship, nor to make any mention of King Albus. Yet Parvati and Ginny had been able to carry a good deal of hushed conversations over the years and had become quite close. Parvati did not despise Ginny because she had been chosen as Riddle's future bride, like some of the other servants did – she felt, like Ginny herself, that it was not so much an honour as an ill-befallen fate luckily avoided. Ginny honestly did not understand why Riddle had chosen her, she did not think she was especially pretty or well-mannered, and had told Parvati this once. But Parvati had told her that she was being ridiculous, and she had informed her that there were rumours even down in Hogsmeade of Ginny's beauty and charm. Ginny had laughed this off, convinced that Parvati was having her on, but Parvati's words had stirred something in her, and that was how they had come to talk about Ginny's family. Parvati knew little more than she did, but as she was only a servant she had been down in the village a few times to pick out foodstuffs for the kitchen, and that was when she had seen the large group of redheaded children walking across the square, and known instantly that these must be Ginny's relatives. And through Parvati Ginny had actually managed to send the family two notes, one carefully scrawled inside an empty egg basket when she was twelve, another on Parvati's handkerchief when she was fourteen. Ginny had felt elated both times she and Parvati had managed to sneak notes out of the castle, even though she did not even know if her family could read, or if they would even be interested in her words of comfort that she was alright and her sincere wishes that they were, too. But a few months after she had sent the second note, she received a huge surprise when Lavender had brought in a newly purchased evening gown Riddle had sent for, and Ginny had felt into the sleeve and to her surprise felt something hard inside. She had rolled up a layer of fabric and found a small, folded piece of parchment. Thinking it was merely a measurement calculation forgotten by the tailor she opened it carelessly in the middle of her dressing room, but her eyes widened as she read the first few words and hastily stuffed the parchment into her own sleeve and left for her bedroom. Later that night when she was quite sure everyone were asleep she had gone over to her window, and by the light of the moon she had read the first and only letter she had ever received from her family. It was not very long, but Ginny had read and re-read it countless of times none the less, keeping it safely hidden in a crack between two bricks underneath her windowsill. She did not need to read it anymore though, she knew the words by heart:
'Dear Ginevra,
It is not possible to express to you how delighted we all felt upon receiving your first letter. Yes, we did receive it but have not had an opportunity to respond before now. We had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to bring this to you without risking your safety, and your brothers Frederick and George happened to find out that this dress would be brought to you directly, and made a deal with the tailor. Your mother tells me the dress is gorgeous dear, and I can almost imagine you in it. I have heard many rumours of your beauty, and my only wish is that some day I will get to see for my own eyes whether those rumours are true. This is hard for me to write to my own daughter, but I suppose I ought to tell you about your family. Firstly be assured that we are doing well, what with your eldest brothers Bilius and Charles earning a fair amount in their smithy, and Percival who has just turned 19 having just conducted his first service in the church. The twins Frederick and George are still living with your mother and I, but they are almost 17 years old of age, and they are seriously considering joining the Jesters' Guild, although your mother still has a hope they will opt for smithery or tailoring. I personally believe she is wasting her time, but that is your mother, fiery and determined. Traits rumour has it you have been as fortunate as to inherit, my dear. I only hope you are careful, I hate to think of my only daughter in the same castle as the "Dark Lord", as he is known around here. Do not think I haven't thought to come rescue you; in fact your brothers have been more than keen to help me. But as much as your mother wants you back and cries for you, I do not think her heart could stand to lose yet another member of her family. I assume you know the story of your brother Ronald, who disappeared when he was only two years old, right before you were taken away from us. Molly, your mother, is still waiting for him to return, although I am regretful to report that the rest of us gave up hope years ago.
Before I end this Ginevra, I have to make it clear to you that I am very proud of you for withstanding everything the cruel fates have thrown at you. We all love and miss you, dear girl, and hope one day to see you, although as of now there seems to be little hope of that. But at long as we known you are all right our hearts will be satisfied.
With love,
your Father.'
After reading this letter Ginny immediately bounded off for the kitchens to ask Parvati for help delivering another message, but to her horror she found that Parvati was bending over a stone bench upon which someone was lying – it was Lavender, and she had bloody lines running all down her back. At Ginny's audible gasp Parvati looked up, a wet and bloody cloth in her hand. She had tears in her eyes.
"Lord Riddle… he came down here, demanded to see the dress but Lavender told him she had brought it straight to you as the tailor had instructed… he was furious, I've never…" she trailed off.
Tearfully, Ginny pulled out her soft cotton handkerchief and dipped it into the bowl of water, coming to kneel next to Parvati and helping her clean the cuts, but said nothing. Ginny knew she was not directly responsible for this, and that Lavender probably did not even know about the message, but still felt a horrible wave of guilt pass over her. How could she have been so selfish? Yet Riddle probably always checked Ginny's clothes and food to make sure she was not communicating with anyone from the village, and the one time he had not checked, Ginny had gotten lucky. Imagine if he had checked! How foolish it had been to disobey Riddle's orders, just so she could feel rebellious. Ginny had risked both her friends' and family's lives for her own selfish pleasures. Ginny felt her stomach drop as she thought about the letter – did he know? But she did not hear of any deaths of disappearances from the village, and no red heads had ever been put on sticks as far as she knew, so most likely Lavender's flogging had been a result of Riddle's anger at having lost the control, if only for a moment.
Even though Lavender and Ginny had become much closer after Ginny helped clean her up, Ginny could not blame her for refusing even to talk about the village with her. And although Parvati was still able once in a while to bring her vague tidings about seeing redheads around the town, to quell Ginny's fear that something had happened, Ginny never again asked Parvati to bring a message, not wanting to be the cause of something so terrible happening again, to anyone. Neither had Ginny received any more letters, and she hoped that her family had somehow got wind of what happened, and had realised it was too risky. As long as they were safe.
But still Ginny longed for the day she would be able to see them. Any of them really, her mother or father, Charles or Bilius, Percival, Frederick or George… Strangely enough though, and maybe it was just because she knew she never would, but Ginny longed to see one person more than anyone - Ronald. She figured from the letter that he was the sibling closest to her own age, and although she had no memory of him she felt strangely connected to Ronald. Which was crazy if he had died before she had turned two years old, but Ginny cared little for such trivialities – she was most likely never going to see any of her siblings or parents anyway, and thus it was of no real importance which name she gave that indistinct, redheaded figure coming towards her in her dreams.
