There was something he had overlooked, Lord Riddle just knew it. He raked his brain, trying to put the pieces together. He knew it was obvious, like one of those puzzles where you cannot see the full picture until you have put in that small last piece, which made sense of all the other individual ones. The boy… something about that boy struck a chord with him. He had killed a lot of people, yet it was like that boy… had he seen him before? And his kills with a bow! The likes of those had not been seen since…

Ginny paced in her room. She had not slept all night. She had completely blurred through the ball the night before, hardly caring that she was made to dance with the repulsing Draco of Slyth, whose smirk had been unbearable.

She knew she had to do something, get Harry out. If it was only her life on the line, she would not hesitate of course; she didn't know what exactly had caused her to feel so strongly for a man she had never met before, but she knew that it felt real, and that if he died, she would be as good as dead herself. Besides, her alternative was marrying Riddle, not exactly an existence she was keen to secure. But she knew that Riddle had he: if she was discovered it would not be her own head on a plate, it would be those of her redheaded, no-face relatives.

Although she had looked for any sign of a family member at the tournament, all Ginny had found was Harry.

And yet… of course there had been his red headed companion. He looked about her own age, and maybe… but it was impossible. Harry did not come from the village, and though she knew her particularly vibrant shade of hair was unusual, she did not delude herself to think that she was the only person in the kingdom who possessed it. She put the thought out of her mind, this was about helping Harry.

But what could she do?

Presently, Parvarti entered the room quietly, carrying Ginny's gown for the day. Ginny spun around to face her, and, making sure she was alone, pulled Parvarti towards her.

"Any news?" she whispered urgently.

"Of the prisoner?" Parvarti asked. "I heard rumours, but…"

"What rumours, Parvarti?" Ginny asked sharply.

Parvarti blinked, bemused at Ginny's intensity. "Well, of execution, milady, but what… Ginny, what's wrong?" For Ginny had sunk to the floor, where she sat blankly, staring at nothing.

"No." Ginny whispered faintly. "This cannot happen."

Sometimes Parvarti did not understand her mistress. Ginny was noble, selfless and brave, but she was also temperamental and had a sometimes life threatening need to see justice. She feared for her, but also admired her greatly. But she was at a loss for how to respond to her outbursts sometimes, both as a servant and as a friend.

But just then, the door opened again, and in stode Lavender – carrying a long object wrapped in cloth and a fierce look of determination which Parvarti had never seen on her face before.

"Maybe this will help, milady," said Lavender, unwrapping the cloth and revealing a shiny, silver sword with a golden hilt adorned with rubies.

Both Ginny and Parvarti stared at their friend in shock.

"I know it's not much…" Lavender said sheepishly, "But it's his. I think it must be a family heirloom, and I figured… better we get it than Riddle, right?"

Without a word Ginny rose from the floor and crossed the room, enveloping Lavender in a fierce hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

Lavender smiled as they pulled away. "I still don't know if it will do any good."

Ginny took the sword, examining it. It was extraordinary, sure, and a good blade (based on her limited knowledge of blades), but…

Suddenly, she heard a gasp behind her and turned to find Parvarti looking at the sword, wide eyed as comprehension dawned on her face.

"I know who he is."

Riddle rose. His pale face had, if possible, paled even further. "I know who he is," he whispered to the empty throne room.