With the ecstasy of that moment slowly draining away with each bead of sweat, I began to realize a few things about myself. A) Harry and I had taken our relationship to an area I was not entirely sure was healthy and B) I really like rough sex. And I mean I REALLY liked it rough. Harry finished moments after me, spraying his load on my stomach and siphoning it away with a lazy flick of his wand.
He rolled over next to me, breathing heavily. "That.. was amazing." I lay on my side, looking at his silhouette against the light beam from my discarded wand. Everything about him had taken on the lax and gentle softness of before. There was no sign of that aggressive dominance from seconds before. While I watched the soft movements of his mouth and chest, I realized that our sex was a complete transformation for him. A transformation I was more than happy with.
"I... what do we do now? After... all that and everything?" With a slight stutter, he looked at me, his glasses fogged with the heat of my breath.
"Now you leave. I cant have my mum walking in on us and naked and sweaty under the blankets, and I have a long day ahead tomorrow."
"You're still going? After what we just did? Didn't you like it enough to stay with me?"
"I liked it. A lot, if you couldn't tell. But I'm still going to school, and that's final."
His eyes dimmed as understanding set in and he accepted the fact that great sex was not enough for me to change my mind about this, Slowly, he gathered his clothes, slipped on his boxer shorts, and padded his way to Ron's room, where he'd most likely share details about 'his' studly performance with my very own brother. In the silence that followed, I drifted off to sleep, aware of how completely drained the entire experience left me. I nox'ed my wand and lost myself in the gentle ebb and flow of unconsciousness
The next day started sluggishly at best. I woke up, washed myself, and looked at my neck in the mirror. The bite had left a dark purple bruise, painful to the touch, and unsightly in even the most flattering of circumstances. I covered it up with the collar of my white button-down, and set about doing one final sweep of my room to make sure I hadn't left anything of relative value behind. When I was confident that everything was as it should have been, I hurried downstairs where my trunk was packed, and my breakfast was waiting on the table.
"Morning mum," I said, sleepiness hanging on y every syllable. " Ready for the big day?"
My mum didn't answer. She merely looked up at me with a strange mixture of sadness and excitement. I took that as a "no," and busied myself with the eggs and bacon inconspicuously arranged into a frowning face. We sat in silence, the two of us occupying ourselves with nothing in particular, but trying our best not to look each other in the eye.
"Your father won't be able to see you onto the train. There was an emergency at work." Mum suddenly said, startling me out of my egg-induced trance. Her eyes hard on me, I could practically read her mind. Thoughts like 'my baby girl almost grown up,' 'why isn't everybody here?' and 'I know why, but why did it have to happen like this?' flicked through her mind like an old movie. You didn't have to be an legilimency expert to know that. I looked back down at my plate, the dopey sunny gaze of my eggs reflecting all of these questions back at me. 'It's for the best,' I told myself, repeating the mantra like it would save me from oblivion. As Ron, Hermione, and finally Harry made their way into the kitchen, the overall mood of the day hadn't changed much. Ron and Hermione had put themselves in that bubble of true love, the bubble where nothing except each other exists. Harry cleared his throat in an attempt to pop that bubble, but it didn't work. Ultimately, Harry, mum and I sat silent eating our breakfasts, and even loading the car without their help.
"Enough you two," mum said, snapping them out of their love bubble, "It's time to go. Hurry along, chop chop."
With a start, they separated and began the slow march into the backseat of a new Ford my father had confiscated during one of his many raids. This one was an update, complete with automatic driving capabilities. After saying the destination aloud, the engine revved to life and steered itself onto the village road, angling towards King's Cross station, and my final year at school.
Once we reached the station, mum discreetly used a Lightweight Charm to single-handedly lift my trunk from the car. We found a trolley nearby and piled all my school stuff on top, wheeling it into the station as Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed behind.
"Come on come on, it's almost time for you to go." Mum scurried towards the barrier, rushing the trolley further and further in until she disappeared behind it. Next strolled Ron and Hermione, casually strolling arm and arm.
I started walking towards the barrier at a brisk place when Harry stopped me.
"Ginny wait. I know that your mind's set about this... but I don't want you to go back. Please. Stay."
I just yanked my arm away, tired of this, and it was time to move forward with everything I had going for me. The barrier gave way in front of me, as it always had, and my ear drums were beat with the sounds of the scarlet engine, owls, and concerned parents rushing their children onto the train before it left. I looked for my mother's telltale hair as she handed my trunk to an attendant. "Very well, all set, love?" She said as she looked over at me.
"All set mum. See you for Christmas?"
She put her hand on my shoulder and pulled me closer, burying my face in her bosom. "I love you so much." Stuck in her embrace, I could say little more than "Rmf mrffle mr," which I hoped she could translate into the proper "I love you."
Mum broke Ron and Hermione from their romantic reverie yet again, and they both gave me their awkward good-byes. "See you this Christmas. Don't cause any trouble," was Ron's parting as he continued to look sideways at Hermione. Hers was a little more appropriate of a farewell, consisting of the lung-crushing hug and the squeals of "have fun." I'd expected such a response from any other girl, but never Hermione. It seems that they were feeding off of each other. Ron had gotten Hermione's bookish and authority oriented traits, while Hermione was becoming more and more expressive as she spent time in his company. I looked at them in envy, wishing Harry and I could do the same, but knowing such a thing would never happen.
Speaking of Harry, his was the last farewell. Or it was supposed to be. When we all looked around, Harry was out of sight, or possibly not even on the platform. A twinge of guilt ran through me as I pictured him, slack-jawed and pale as the woman he loves left him behind. The guilt passed quickly when the warning whistle rang throughout the platform. With a few more rushed good-byes, I boarded the train, and began my voyage back to Hogwarts.
The train ride went by in isolation. Luna came by and shared a compartment with me for a few seconds before she started complaining about some obscure creature or another and left. For the most part, I was alone on the voyage.
It must be tough.
I looked up, but no one was there. This was a first for me, hearing deep and sexy disembodied voices while sitting by my lonesome. But whatever had spoken up was right, it was tough. Over the summer and in last year I was so used to being with someone, or at least knowing that I could easily be with someone if that's what I wanted. Now, on my way back to Hogwarts, I'd realized how many of my friends had moved on, leaving Hogwarts or even this world forever.
You're not as alone as you think.
There it was again, telling me everything I'd been trying not to think. I'm here. I've always been here. Now things were just getting creepy. But despite myself, despite my questionable sanity, and despite the very fact that this voice was coming from virtually nothing, there was a comfort from it. In it, I could hear power, compassion, sympathy, and everything I'd been yearning for. I was getting some strange pleasure(both physical and psychological) from the sheer sound of this voice. It could have yelled "You and everyone you love will die by my hand," and I still would have found something pleasing about this voice.
Remember, Ginny. I've always been here. And with that the voice was gone, leaving me feel as empty as before.
When we reached the station, the normal booming voice of Hagrid was gone. It had been replaced by a centaur, the divination professor, Firenze.
"Why Hello there, professor Firenze," I said, approaching the chestnut centaur.
"And Hello to you as well, Ms. Weasley. I know your question, and Hagrid is tending to matters with the giants, under the new Minister's authority. He is to return after the break." The centaur continued to look down at me while still ushering the first years to the boats.
"Thank you."
"Guard your heart well, young Weasley."
I looked down. It was common knowledge that centaurs often spoke in riddles, but this didn't seem like a riddle. It was a warning. Firenze knew about something I knew too, but was choosing to ignore. Had he known about the voice? About my relationship with Harry? Had he known about my loneliness? There was too much he could have known about, but how had he known?
"Thank you yet again, professor." With this, I turned quickly on my heels and headed to the carriage.
Luna had once again occupied her own carriage, most people trying their best to crowd into any without her. When I approached, she gave me her dreamy smile and beckoned me forward. "So you can see them now too?" It took me a second to realize what she said. Then I looked at the carriage, anchored as it was to a large black horse-like creature. "Yes, yes I can." I knew they were Threstles, and I knew only those who saw loss could see them, but knowing what they were didn't make them any more appealing. Finally being able to see them only reminded me of my loss. Something about my face must have reported these feelings to onlookers. Luna put her hand on my shoulder, and pulled me closer, holding me against her slim frame. "Losing something doesn't mean it's gone forever. Everything lost can be found again, in time." My loss was quickly replaced by shock and confusion. It was such a typically Luna thing to say, said with the best intentions and all the cheeriness in the world, but that didn't make me feel better. It was actually a disturbing thought. Then again, if it weren't disturbing, it wouldn't have been typical of Luna. Noiselessly, the carriages moved toward the castle, the threstles moving without leaving any evidence of their existence.
"They're beautiful in their own way." I said, snuggling closer to Luna as we both looked towards the castle, apprehensive of the feast and year ahead.
The great hall, as always, was lit by a million floating candles, while the magicked ceiling above mirrored the sky outside. Short of Professors Snape and Trelawney, the Headmistress seat was now filled by Professor McGonagall, while on her right sat a young and lazy-looking wizard, gently tapping his wand against his goblet. The air around me was filled by the constant buzz of conversation until the great double doors at the end of the hall opened. As everyone fell silent, the clack-clack-clack of Firenze's hooves echoed around, followed closely by a double line of first-years. My God. I can't believe I used to be that short. The thought made me laugh inside while they stood in front of the old stool and hat. The old tear opened up to show its old mouth, and the old hat began its old schtick.
Welcome students, new and old...
I didn't hear the rest. You'd think after centuries of doing this, he'd run out of things to talk about. It was that same voice from the train, bouncing around my ears without a source. I looked around, quickly hoping to find the owner, or at least a wand pointed mischievously at me. Discontent with this lack of discovery, I decided to sit back and enjoy the voice, even though it was only in my head. Ginny... it's been quite some time... do you remember me yet? Remember how I made you feel when we were together?
It's a funny thing when you try to answer a voice that only exists in your own head. Saying it out loud seems unnecessary, especially when you consider that the thought comes before the action, but it seemed the most appropriate at the time.
"No, I'm afraid I don't remember you... whoever you are." Needless to say, my answering an unasked question aloud turned the heads of the ten people closest to me. There's no need to say it out loud. I'm in your head. I can hear your thoughts. Since it was merely thought, it feels odd saying it had an arrogant tone, but I could feel it deep at the base of my skull, waves of smug arrogance moving through my body.
'Of course, why didn't I think of that?'
You did.
There really was no way to counter that. Ginny you need to remember me.
"And that concludes the sorting," Professor McGonagall said, her voice ringing with finality. "Now before the feast begins, and we all begin the gentle march through our futures, there are several matters to which must be attended. As I'm sure most, if not all, of you are aware, the events that happened at Hogwarts last year were some of the most grave atrocities to face Hogwarts, and even the wizarding world. As such, those who showed the insurmountable bravery to stay behind and fight have been honored in life, or in the most heinous cases, in death, but as most of the students involved were seventh year students, they have gone on to bigger and better things in our new, more stable community. That does not mean there are none amongst us who saw the grievances of battle. At this time, I would like to call attention to Ms. Ginerva Weasley."
The Great Hall erupted into applause as I stood up, looking around sheepishly. Professor McGonagall beckoned me forward with a twitch of her head. I followed her command, each step less hesitant than the last. Finally, I stood several feet before McGonagall, as she looked down on me through her square glasses. "Ms. Weasley, despite defying the conventions and demands of her family, returned to Hogwarts to fight for the greater good. Not only did she fight, she was a key component in the defeat of Bellatrix Lestrange. For her work, the other professors and I have decided to award her with a trophy for Special Services to the School, which hasn't been rewarded since the first opening of the Chamber of Secrets. Although this award is presented in her name, the trophy will also be engraved with the names of all involved in the battle. Ms. Weasley..." I took another step closer, and Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand, twirling it in a circle. After three rotations, a large silver Goblet appeared, engraved with my name and the names of scores of others. Fred's name was underneath mine, obscured by tears as they fell and slid down the smooth silver. "Th...Thank... Thank you Professor," was all I managed to choke out before my knees gave way.
Professor McGonagall's hand landed on my shoulder, smoothing away the unease of loss. In a quieter voice that only I could hear, she said "you've done your family proud. And you will continue to make them proud. Remember this." She straightened up afterward, addressing the whole hall. "And now that this has been taken care of, it's time to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Everybody, please join me in welcoming Professor Mertonsen." The lazy-looking wizard stood up, giving a half-hearted wave to the cheering students. His black hair caught the light in different patches, discoloring it from black, to gray, to orange-gold. There was a strange charm about his laziness, like he'd often spent his time laying back on the couch, reading some obscure book or another. Judging by the reactions from many of the female student body, I wasn't the only one to share a similar reaction.
Urged on by Professor McGonagall, Mertonsen stood straight. He was rather tall, just a few inches taller than McGonagall. His shoulders were broad, and his waist tapered enough, allowing his robes to fall almost straight down,resting entirely on his shoulders like a cape. His face was slim and angular, like a cat's, ending in a square jaw covered in the stubble of a man too lazy to shave that morning. In his laid-back and careless demeanor, there was a sort of sexiness that you simply couldn't deny.
"Yes, well... As I said, Professor Mertonsen will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Also, as you may have noticed, our current Games Keeper is unavailable at the moment. Hagrid will be returning as soon as possible, but is most expected to return by spring. And with that, the feast shall begin."
After the feasts had ended, the four houses separated to return to their dormitories. The fat lady swung open upon hearing the password("Mugwump"), and we all trudged inside. Well, almost all. I'd gotten the password, and with the prestige of my award hanging in the air, there was very little doubt I'd be in trouble my first day of school for going to the lou after hours. In passing, I'd noticed how little had changed. The awkward pedestal was left empty every few spaces, denoting where a suit of armor had fallen victim to the battle, but for the most part the castle remained empty and unchanged. In the armor that remained, I saw myself, thousands of Ginny Weasleys briskly strolling through the halls in an attempt to find a bathroom. In the periphery, following just behind those Ginnys followed a shade, some dark figure barely making itself visible to anyone who'd notice it. Or just me. At this point, I couldn't trust my senses for anything in the world.
Remember, Ginny.
I swung a right and headed for the lavatory on the second floor. Having spent much of my first year here(although, admittedly my memory gets a little hazy about the specifics), it wasn't difficult to find. I walked over to the sink, putting my hands on either side to steady myself. The water began running of its own accord, filling the sink in response to my whims. I splashed my face a couple of times, and looked down at the faucet. A serpentine S looked back at me, its small eyes giving it an animated appeal. I could practically feel the snake as it slithered through my being, wrapping itself around my very mind.
Give in.
I did just that. I allowed the thoughts to flow through me. Thoughts of the snake, the chamber I knew hidden beneath, the basilisk's corpse and the diary. You're so close, Ginny. I looked in the mirror, unsure of myself. Was the Ginny at the sink opening the Chamber again? Was I about to be possessed by a shade of a shade? Was I even Ginny Weasley anymore? I looked deeper into my own eyes, until something in the periphery drew my focus away. Standing behind me, leaning against the stall, was a tall boy. His wavy black hair was combed neatly to the side, and his face was set in a calm, serious expression, breaking into a relaxed half-smile. There was power in his eyes. A cold, menacing power that sought even more strength. He sauntered towards me, stretching his hand out. I'd been stuck where I was, struck by the power in his eyes.
"Ginny," he said, voice deep and smooth. Whether he said it aloud or in my mind, I couldn't be sure. "You remember."
And I did. I remembered everything about the man before me. I remembered his name, his compassion, the way he warped my mind to do his bidding. I remembered opening my heart to him in a way I'd never done since, and I remember how he made me feel adored and special. These things I couldn't fake, or replace. This was the closest to love I'd ever felt, and something in the way he stood before me suggested the same. I'd wondered about his capacity for the emotion, but didn't care. I wanted to be with him, in any way possible. He put his hand on my cheek, and despite the lack of physical being, there was a solidarity there, like I'd been aware the hand was there once upon a time, cold and firm.
"Tom... Tom Riddle. Or Should I say 'Voldemort'?" Whether I'd said the words or thought them, I'm not sure. I was terrified by his presence, having freed myself from his grip at least twice. His hand still on my cheek, he did not cringe at the sound of his other name. He did not react in any way visible.
"Ginny... I came back for a reason. No, that's not right. I never left. I was always there, inside your heart and mind. But you can feel me now, and I can feel you, and all the love you have to give to the man you think most deserves it. Call me Voldemort if you wish, but the way I am now is nothing like how I was before. I've been in your heart, and that of everyone you've ever loved. I know what Dumbledore meant before. I don't know everything about this thing called 'love', but I know this: I love you, Ginny."
I looked Tom Riddle, the most dangerous man of our history, in the face, in awe of his power, aroused by his beauty, and trapped by his newfound love.