Chapter 8: Who I was
Headmaster Armando Dippet, a man of high age and yet young élan, walked down the corridor leading to the hospital wing. He had requested his friend, colleague and current Transfiguration teacher, Professor Albus Dumbledore, to accompany him to their current mystery guest.
Dippet looked over his younger friend, when their light-hearted small talk turned to a rather grim theme. The Dark Lord Grinewald. Dumbledore, a member of his own community of light-wizard and witches called the order of the Phoenix, had just returned this morning from a confrontation with dark wizards. Yet Dumbledore had been prepared to follow the request of his headmaster, without thinking twice, a characteristic that please him very much.
"You said that this confrontation was inevitable?"
"Quite so, dear headmaster. I am afraid we have lost many good friends and supporters. We are still trying to identify many victims. This task is rather hard, seeing as many spells were of the burning kind or making the face and body unrecognizable with gashes." Replied Dumbledore, with a frown on his face.
"Hm, I see. Then all that there is to do, is hope that Grinewalds fall and defeat will soon come. I am not sure how the children of the victims will fair with this new information." Said Dippet, as he stopped before the doors to the hospital wing.
Dumbledore thought for a moment before casting his friend and headmaster a sad smile. "Perhaps, it is best to inform them individual, without the rest of the student body to know of this."
Dippet nodded his agreement and said, while opening the doors "Perhaps."
They quietly entered, and went to the last bed in the hospital wing. The girl that had been in hysterics yesterday sat almost lifeless and still on the bad. The only indication that she was fully awake and functioning, where the facts that she was sitting up, and absently playing with her hands in her lap, while staring at her sheet-covered feet before her.
Both boys from the day before stood by her bed and nodded their head, acknowledging their headmaster, and Transfiguration teacher. For a moment Dippet wondered if he had summoned the young Weasley to come here too, but dismissed this quickly. He remembered telling his head boy, Tom Riddle, that he wanted the arrival of their guest to stay confident until further notice, as well as telling him to come to this meeting alone.
"Mr. Weasley, I do believe that you have class to attend to."
Lance looked at headmaster Dippet, and wanted to argue with him, but was beaten to it. "Please let him stay!" said the girl. All attention shifted from Lance, and refocused on the girl, now starring wide eyed at the headmaster. "Please!" she pleaded.
Dippet was about to insist on his order, when Dumbledore's hand came to rest on his shoulder. He shook his head slightly, and whispered. "If she feels more confident with him around, it would only profit us."
Dippet knew that the Professor before him had a point and nodded his head to the silently standing boy in question. He took his wand out of his robe and tipped the neighbouring bed with it. Instantly the bed turned into a chair and he sat on it.
Now seated, he nodded to the girl. "Good morning. My name is headmaster Armando Dippet. You are here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, are you aware of that?" he asked.
The girl nodded and looked at her hands, still playing nervously with her hands. "Yes, sir." She said.
"Good. Yesterday these two students" he nodded at Tom and Lance "have found you on school grounds. Would you care to tell us why a non student was on school grounds?" he asked sternly.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Ginny looked at the man before her. She knew who he was. Hermione had read Hogwarts: A history so many times, and retold everything, that Ginny had felt it unnecessary to read it herself.
She was still debating with herself if she should tell him a lie, and risk getting found out, or present him with some truth, in order to try and stay in this time. She knew, if she told him that her name was Weasley, he'd try and find her parents. But he would not be successful and then start to suspect something.
The truth will set you free… someone once had said. She didn't remember the context of the conversation, but remembered thinking that she liked the statement.
So she swallowed hard, and slowly looked up at the present headmaster, never letting her eyes sway towards the other man. She knew if she looked the Dumbledore in the eye, she would break down and confess every mishaps and disaster that had ever happened to her, only to have him smile at her in sympathy.
"My name is Ginevra Molly Weasley. I am … was the youngest of seven. My family is no more. …" She hesitated to speak the next, but knew that she had to. Dumbledore and Dipped would want to know what happened, and would never leave her in peace, if she didn't comply. "The dar… The Dark Lord killed them." She finished with tears in her eyes and a heavy heart.
A memory filled her mind. She remembered the night Bill and Fleur were murdered. Bill had ordered her to hide. She had complied and hid herself in the closet. Harry had given her his invisibility cloak, to hide her in case she was found. She hadn't been found that night. Instead she had to witness both of her loved ones murdered in front of her.
"Take care, gin-bug!" Bill had said after kissing her head with a sad smile, before closing the closet door, to hide her.
She shook her head free from the memories and saw that Dippet and Dumbledore stood now further away from her discussing something in hushed voices.
They'll want to send me back! I can't go back!
"Please don't send me back!" she pleaded, making both men turn to her. Dumbledore drilled with his gaze into her, flashes of that night resurfaced. Unable to look away she knew that he had seen her memory, seen Bills death. Before he could read more of her, Ginny turned her head to the side and noticed that 'Ron-copy' was looking at her with something akin to sadness and pity.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"The dar… The Dark Lord killed them." Said the girl. After that she looked at her hands and stayed quiet.
Dippet looked at Dumbledore and indicated, with his head, for him to follow him. They only stood a little distance away to discuss in privacy, yet not to much, to be able to surveillance the girl.
"Hm… I don't think that what she is saying is a lie." Said Dumbledore with a concerned expression on his face.
"This attack on your Order members … Do you know if her family was present?" asked Dippet.
"It is possible for them to have been present. But not that I know of…"
"I see." Said Dippet. He was about to inform his Professor of his choice, of finding her parents if they were still alive or trying to find someone from the Weasley family to provide for her, when her pleading voice reached them.
"Please don't send me back!" She had a heart broken expression on her face. Pain could be seen. In a flash, a vision could be seen to both older men. It was a silent, soundless vision, but a gruesome one none the less. For both men it was clear that this was her memory and that it was unintentionally shared with them.
She was standing in a room. A cloak was in her hands. She shook her head. At first she was looking at the floor, while shaking her head, and then she looked up at another individual.
A blond, beautiful woman stood next to a man with red hair, looking out the window. Holding a wand in her hand, she shouted something to the man with the long, red hair. His face was scarred, yet it was visible that concern was written all over his face.
He shouted something toward her. She only shook her head in reply. The man with the red long hair started out toward her. Suddenly a stray steam of light went flying through the window, making everyone in the room duck.
The woman with the blond hair started to hex and shout charms and spells through the window, at possible attackers. The man with the long red hair grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the only mirror in the room. The image in the mirror showed him, as he was holding Ginevra by her upper arm, saying something to her. Her face was red and full of tears, proof that she had been crying for sometime already. As they stood side by side, the man smiled at her through the mirror and turned her, to kiss her eyes.
Then he took the cloak from her and pulled it over her head. He didn't release her, instead dragged her to a closet. After setting her in, and hanging another cloak over her to probably hide her better, he kissed her head and said something to her. Before closing the closet, he smiled a sad smile to her.
Even though the closet was closed, it had a crack in the door. It was enough for her to look through and follow the happenings outside.
The blond woman was still sending hexes through the window. The man now stood by the other window doing the same. Suddenly there was an explosion on the other side of the room. The explosion had created a hole in the wall. Light and hexes came flying to the man and woman inside the room. The woman fell to the ground, bleeding. Her whole body was covered in gashes and cuts. Her face was directed toward the closet, making a better view for one to see her face. It was lifeless and her eyes were opened. She had been killed, and witnessed her own death.
The man was still standing and fighting. But from the hole in the wall men started to ender the room. They were four of them. They were wearing black cloaks and masks made out of steal. Their faces were not visible, because masked, but the intent to kill was still written over all of their form.
One of them stepped toward the man with the long hair, and seemed to have said something. The red haired man shook his head and threw another hex at the other men, before suddenly crying out in pain.
What looked to be the leader of the four men, threw another hex at the man with the red hair after avoiding a hex thrown at him. The other man was shaking in pain, and clutching his face, having thrown the wand to the ground, his long red hair cascading over his shoulders, to the ground and soaked in his own blood, and that of the woman. The red haired man's scars suddenly erupted and blood streamed from them. The flesh was peeling of. He threw himself to the ground and brought himself into a ball. The leader of cloaked figures took another step, and then placed one of his feet to the other mans head. He seemed to be asking something, but after waiting a little, he kicked the man on the ground on his head.
He ordered the cloaked men to search the room. One of the men opened the closet and for a moment it seemed as if he was looking at her. But then he looked away and banged the door of the closet shut.
The vision went black.
The girl, Ginevra, looked away, and toward young Mr Weasley. Dippet understood that the girl sitting on the bed had witnessed the now raging war outside on her own skin, so to speak. He had wanted to send her back to the Weasley's, but now decided against it. After all Hogwarts was the safest place of all to be at. Ginevra would join the other students and routine, until it would be decided what to do with her.
Turning to Dumbledore, he wanted to tell him of his decision. The other man only nodded in understanding. Dippet smiled, he didn't have to tell him what he was thinking. It always seemed that Dumbledore knew exactly what he was thinking about. He'll make a good headmaster someday, he thought.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Tom Riddle stood to the side. He had observed the conversation, and even heard what his professors had talked about. He had been curious about the girl, and her connection to the Dark Lord. But he had concealed his interest with an air of indifference.
He had also witnessed the vision, her memory. Ginevra's magical abilities were mingled with her pain, that had triggered her memory to be seen by anyone powerful enough and willing to know of her past, he concluded.
If that is her display of magical power if unaware of it, he thought, then how great it must be when she uses it willingly. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine. With every minute he stayed near her, with every information he gained of her, his interest turned into an obsession.
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Slowly but still coming… This project is not dead.
I want to thank everyone who left a comment, and in case of questions don't hesitate to write.
This was the most complicated chapter to write. I had to start 3 times, before I did it somehow ok… I am not too satisfied, but it will be ok for now.
In case someone did not understand who the individuals in the memory were… it was Bill and Fleur…
Until next chapter…