I do NOT own Harry Potter, nor will I ever….
The hospital wing had been deserted when Professor Dippet, headmaster of the school, entered it. He had been called without knowing why. The only thing he did know was that it concerned a student.
He passed many empty beds until he reached the last one, in the corner. Two boys stood at the foot of the bed and glanced down onto a sleeping girl. One of the boys he immediately recognised as being his favourite student and this years head boy. Pale face, dark hair and a slender tall body. Tom Riddle.
The other boy he easily identified as a Weasley. Red short hair, freckles all over his face and even on the back of his hands. His robes were, like every other Weasley he had met before, relicts of other family members. Run down, washed out colours and passed on from generation to generation.
He made his way closer to the last bed, and the girl sleeping in it. A fragile looking girl, with flaming red, long hair and a pale, but freckled complexion lay there.
Dippet looked at her in disbelieve. A Weasley girl? But surely not in this school. He knew he remembered all of his students. And a Weasley girl would stand out, especially considering there never had been one in this school before.
He looked at the boys, who seemed caught up in their own thoughts. Both had a look of concern on their faces. Dippet turned to the Weasley boy and asked: "What is the meaning of this boy? Who is she?"
"Headmaster!" the boy squeaked. It seemed he had not notice the old, chubby, bold man enter the hospital wing. "I … I found her outside… near the north-west wall. … She seemed to be in shock, or something…", was all he could get out.
"Well, who is she?" asked the now impatient old man. "She does resemble the Weasley features."
The boys shoulders shot up, and he shook his head a little. "I don't know who she is. Never seen her before."
Dippet rolled his eyes at the last statement. Maybe there are too many Weasleys to remember all of them, he thought. Then he turned to the head boy and asked: "Tom, surely you can tell me a little more."
"All I can tell you is that, after returning from 'Care of Magical Creatures', I ran into Lance Weasley near the north-west wall. I saw that he was embracing a girl. At first I thought it was an inappropriate display of affection, but soon came to the conclusion that this was not the case." Finished Tom Riddle, as Lance rolled his eyes.
Inappropriate display of affection, Lance repeated internally. Where are we, in a ministry court?
A little, plum nurse came to them. In her hands she held a silvery mug containing a white, thick liquid.
"Headmaster." She greeted him with a nod. Then she turned to the boys and asked, "You've said, she hasn't waken before you brought her to me?"
"No, she fell right asleep in my arms." Lance blushed furiously and added "Must have mistaken me for someone else!"
Now it was Toms turn to roll his eyes. This silly little Gryffindor was blushing over something like having a girl falling asleep in his arms. How adorable, he thought sarcastically. He would have thought the girl a worthless whore for doing something like this in public, had he not seen her with his own eyes.
He took in the sight now before him. The girl lay almost lifeless on the bed. Only the slow and little movement of her ribcage, underneath the blankets, indicated her being alive. Her hair looked like rivers of bright blood. Escaping her head, running down the pillow. Surrounding her face and clinging desperately on to her neck like drowning people would onto each other.
Oh, what a sight. And he could almost smell the raw magical power that emitted from her body. Feel how it was pushing out of her, trying to be released. And innocents. She smelled of sweet innocents.
Suddenly the girl started to stir. The nurse made a hand movement to get the boys, and even the headmaster, out of the way. She settled a hand behind the pillow and raised the girls head toward the mug. Without any refusal, the red head had swallowed the bitter liquid.
The girl opened her eyes a little, just to close them immediately again. She probably had to adjust her eyes to the bright light, commented the nurse. After sometime her eyes shot open again, like realising she was somewhere else. A place, she shouldn't or couldn't be.
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Ginny looked around. Her eyes focused onto a plum little woman, holding a mug in her hand. She backed away from her slightly. Where was she? Next she saw an old, fat man with bold head. He seemed to have authority, but that only scared Ginny even more. His facial expressions were rough, and to Ginny it seemed as if harshness was directed toward her.
Her whole body stiffened upon realising that she was in a room with strangers, she had never seen before. Her eyebrows rose to a frown and between them, just above the root of her nose, a deep furrow emerged.
She was still sitting up on the bed, holding the blanket like a shield close to her, when her eyes landed on a boy, who seemed to look like Ron. Out of instinct, she threw the blanket back and launched herself onto him. While throwing her arms around his shoulders and hiding her face in his chest she called out his name.
"Ron!"
Everything will be alright! Ron is here. He'll protect me, he'll …
Then it struck her like lightning. That couldn't be Ron. Ron died! She let go of the boy and stepped back a little. Looking into his face, she noticed for the first time, that his face looked different. The nose was a little bigger, his mouth wider and the lips thinner.
"You're … you're not Ron." What first sounded like a question, ended more like a statement. The boy shook his head and murmured something that sounded like a 'no'. Just then, she noticed someone standing next to the boy. Slytherin school robes. A head boy badge. Her eyes trailed of to his face and her own face suddenly erupted into horror and shock.
Tom Riddle. Lord Voldemort!
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She almost fell back onto the ground, had it not been for the bed. Her body, almost instantly, tried to get further away from him. All this time cries of horror and desperation came out of the, now, mad looking girl.
The nurse tried to calm her down but to no avail. She tried to get her drinking more of the white liquid, but the red head only fought it off, until the mug with its content shattered onto the floor.
Tom had watched the sudden change of behaviour with curiosity and suspicion. He grabbed his wand out of the pocket and pointed it at the girl.
"Fridia"
A light hit the girl, and at the same moment, the screams of terror were silenced. Her hands dropt into her lap, her body relaxed and her eyes were half opened, half closed. As realisation dawned onto him, Lance threw himself onto Tom and tried to grab his wand away, screaming: "You dirty slytherin bastard! You hexed her!"
Dippet had to restrain the angry Weasley. Toms only reply was one of arrogance. "I put a calming charm onto her, seeing the nurse couldn't handle the situation."
Arguments and conversations continued on about half an hour more, until the nurse hushed them all out of the hospital wing. Even Professor Dippet had to leave. She explained the girl had to rest. This statement left no space for argumentation, so all three complied.
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A/N Somethings I would like to explain, that might have gone under in this whole chapter.
It's the year 1944/1945. Air space rule and such are normal. A lot things normal to us, are considered inappropriate then. Like: hugging, kissing, cuddling… short skirts and sleeve less shirts…
The calming charm: it is a old german word. Probably from the middle ages or such… the word is FRIDU and means peace…
I think that really was the longest chapter yet… puh finished