Disclaimer: This story includes characters and situations that are part of the Harry Potter universe, which is copyright J.K.Rowling, Scholastic, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury, etc. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made in the production of this FANFICTION. Not many outside resources were needed this time, but I (as always) made extensive use of the Harry Potter Lexicon when writing this chapter.
Author's Note: Short chapter, I know, only ¾ the length of what I usually write. But it was complete, and I ran up against one of the things that I am very bad at writing, so... strategic chapter break! One and a half more chapters until the end (the last chapter is short so it only counts for half), and the next chapter is probably my second-favorite in the whole fic! I can't believe I'm this close to making it! Thank you The-Quoi for your review (if I didn't have Ginny hoodwinked, I couldn't do this...). Feedback is always, always appreciated, and I'll see you Monday!
Expectations of Grandeur: Chapter 37: Role Reversal
Tom was waiting for her outside the entrance to the common room; or at least, he was waiting for her in the hallway in a remote part of the dungeons that must have been nearly under the lake, and it was just about as cold and unwelcoming a place as Ginny could imagine – hence it was appropriate for the home of Slytherin house. He wore a smirk on his face and was carefully placing a parchment – the parchment, Ginny corrected herself – back into his pocket. Ginny held her chin high as she walked up to him, and thought only about the fact that he hadn't used the parchment for anything malevolent yet, not on what he could potentially do or have done.
When he turned to see her, he wasn't surprised. Ginny didn't expect him to be, but kept her chin up and stared unwaveringly at him, as though she could create a sense of courage that wasn't there by sheer gall. "I thought you were through with terrible people like me," he said with a bit of a scowl, face masked with cold anger.
"You aren't terrible," she answered promptly. She knew it sounded hollow but could think of nothing else to say. "I don't think you're a terrible person."
He laughed bitterly. "Not now, perhaps. But how much of a chance are you really offering? Will you betray me again, as soon as my temper flares? Will you run off to Potter if I show my true colors: proud and self-serving as befits my house? Will you send me to Azkaban for evil thoughts?" he paused for effect, and Ginny had to admit that she didn't think anyone should be sent to Azkaban for thinking something. "You've already turned Judas once - twice; I was a fool to believe you were remorseful. But you're not going to hoodwink me again." He laughed again, and it echoed and bounced around the corridor, ringing in Ginny's ears and making her wince. Perhaps coming here was a bad idea – an outright horrible idea. She schooled her expression to reveal none of it, though. This was a test. It had to be a test. He had helped her on her Potions exam – surely he wouldn't do that and then not forgive her. So he was testing her resolve, or waiting for her to say something, or trying to goad her into exploding again, and she had to retain her cool to figure out what she needed to do. He continued talking. "I should have abandoned you the first time you hid yourself from me. But I gave you a second chance; look where it got me." He stared her in the eye and she shuddered to think that he could read her very soul. He just snorted derisively and looked away. "Of course I can read your mind, Ginevra," he said coldly. "Do you take me for a complete fool?"
"Then you know I'm being honest," she said, trying to sound defensive and angry when really she was shaking in her boots. He didn't look impressed. "You must have at least wanted to talk to me, or you wouldn't be out here in the first place," she pleaded. "And if you really gave up on me, why did you help on my Potions exam? You could have let me fail."
Tom looked up, surprised – he wasn't really surprised, Ginny thought, that she knew. It was probably scrawled all over the parchment he had been reading just a few minutes ago. And there was a flinch in the corner of his mouth that betrayed his real emotion – whatever that was. "You knew?" he asked.
"Who else could have done it, Tom?" She snapped. "Who else would have known about Harry's botched potion? Without you, I would have been too confused to pass my Charms O.W.L., much less Potions."
Tom nodded, in stern agreement, and Ginny would have been offended by his apparently low view of her skill in Potions (and Charms for that matter), but for her penitence and the ease with which she blamed Harry Potter. It wasn't her fault he had botched Felix Felicis. That was his own idiocy.
"Look, Tom," she said, made courageous by the hint of approval in his eyes. "You scared me. That was it, honest. And anyone would have been afraid of those thoughts of yours." She took a deep breath. "But no one should go to Azkaban for something they just think, and I know that, and if I hadn't been so terrified I would have seen sense. But I was terrified, because you were thinking of making me do things and, to be honest, I've never really gotten over what happened my first year – who would have, anyway – and so I overreacted. And I got a Professor because I was scared, but I know now that you only made me sit down so I would give you time to calm down before I tried to get you punished for a fit of anger, because everyone has fits of anger and I should know that myself since I have so many, and you only did what you did so I would stop and talk to you rather than rushing to condemn you just like everyone else already has, or had, or whatever, but I didn't realize it then because I was just so frightened, and it was too much like my first year, and so I got even more scared and I called for Hermione, and once Hermione knew she kept an owl-like eye on me so I couldn't back down or give you another chance even when I realized I had been a horrible, immature little girl and should have given you time to calm down and talked to you about it later; I couldn't back down even when I wanted to, because she was always right there and it all happened so fast and McGonagall took the parchment and then I couldn't talk to you anyway, now could I?" Ginny took a ragged breath and chanced a glance up at Tom; he was staring down at her, impassive. She gritted her teeth and continued. "And what I'm trying to say here, what I'm trying to tell you, Tom, is that I've been a complete and total fool and I can see now how horribly I've mistreated you, and please please please accept my apology and I promise that I will never, ever do anything like that ever again. I'll always give you time to calm down and explain, or vent, or whatever you need. It's the least I could do, because you've always done that for me. Just..." she trailed off. He didn't look any more convinced than he had been at the beginning of her rant. She almost lost hope, but forced the words out of her mouth anyway. "Just don't hate me."
He scowled in response. "Stupid Gryffindors and your puerile sentimentality," he scoffed. "What does it matter if I hate you? So long as you are beholden to Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, it is self-defeating for me to trust you. Hatred is too strong an emotion, Ginevra. The word you're looking for is disdain."
He began to turn away, as though disgusted with her, and Ginny could tell half of it was to shield his face so she couldn't see that he wasn't keeping up his mask as well as perhaps he should be – but she couldn't tell what he was trying to hide either, so it was a moot point. He took a step away from her and she cried out, "No!" He stopped, but didn't turn. "I'm not beholden to Harry or Hermione," she insisted almost desperately. "I... I don't do everything they ask of me, and I don't follow them around in awe like I did my first year. Harry is a fool, an incompetent fool who can't even brew a proper Felix Felicis. He's condescending and obnoxious and idiotic and he lives to stroke his own oversized ego." Tom turned to face her, so she continued. "He's self-righteous and just as bigoted as anyone he fights against, but he can't see that about himself and he's such a golden hero in the eyes of the wizarding world that no one else can see it either and they just let him get away with his nonsense. They let him get away with being so-so, and applaud it as talent, they turn a blind eye to his rule-breaking and put him on a pedestal as a model student, they let him be a self-righteous prig and call it modesty, of all things, while the rest of us mortals are meant to bow down and beg his approval, his acceptance, his benevolence." He was staring at her with one eyebrow raised, and this time his thought was clear. Even he hadn't thought of half of those insults against Harry. Well, Ginny figured that she knew Harry Potter a lot better than most people did, and certainly better than Tom Riddle. "You're worth ten of him, Tom," she said. "You're stronger and better in just about every way, and I'm a fool but I've only just now seen it."
Now he was looking at her quizzically. She had almost passed the test, she knew. She was almost there. "Prove it," he said sternly.
That was unexpected. She could only stare at him blankly for a moment, not understanding. "What?" she asked, and his eyes glittered with amusement but she couldn't tell why.
"Prove to me that you've realized Potter's idiocy," he clarified, the smirk he had worn when reading the parchment back on his face. Which told her she had begged and pleaded enough, he was mollified, and this was as much an experiment on his part as a test anymore. He wanted to see what she would say.
Prove that she had realized Potter's idiocy. Surely he was asking her to take some action against Harry, to humiliate him or otherwise make obvious her newfound preference. "Prove to you..." she mumbled, and then trailed off, thinking hard. "Everyone knows it, Tom," she said, because it was true – why did Tom need this to be proven? "Everyone knows you're dedicated and brilliant and talented while Harry skates by on luck and a prayer. Or at least, everyone knows except Harry, and perhaps Ron and Hermione." She laughed at that and reconsidered. "No, even Hermione would agree with that." An idea struck her. He was still smirking, waiting for her to say something. "If I thought it would prove anything, I would duel him, hex his glasses so he couldn't see through them and then cover him with bat bogeys, just for giving me that botched Potion this morning. But that's just childish." His smirk grew wider, and he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall, still waiting.
"I could steal his invisibility cloak, and the map of Hogwarts he thinks he's hidden from me, and see how he gets on without his father's old toys. But that wouldn't prove anything either." He looked almost impressed, and in response she almost smiled.
"Really," she said pensively, "The best way to get revenge against Harry Potter, to thoroughly humiliate and hurt him, would be to get between him and Ron and Hermione. He's always miserable when one or another of them isn't talking to him." She suddenly had an amazing, cruel, and almost perfect idea. "I would give Ron and Hermione love potion. Just a bit, to get them over their nerves."
Tom frowned, obviously he didn't understand. She grinned even wider. "Ron and Hermione are mad for each other; everyone in Gryffindor knows it. The only reason they don't abandon him entirely is their preconceived notions of what good friends do. Give them a love potion, make them that much more mad for each other and that much less sensible to everything else, and maybe whisper into Ron's ear how much Hermione simply loves Harry. Ron won't talk to Harry or Hermione for a week, and by the time that he and Hermione sort it all out, the sheer force of the reunion will push Harry away. He'll be miserable."
Tom scowled. "For how long?" he asked. "Long enough to humiliate him, perhaps. But they won't abandon him completely."
Ginny shook her head. "Harry Potter lives in a constant state of danger. He rarely goes a month without having his life saved by either Hermione or Ron. Besides, if I were to time it right, it would certainly be long enough to have Harry doubting he was even a wizard to begin with. It's happened before, when a house elf stopped his mail for two months. Before my first year; Harry was so desperate for news after just eight weeks that he almost got himself expelled from Hogwarts." Tom's scowl had disappeared again. She let herself smile. "Harry expelled for some stupid worry – Harry Potter finally getting himself into a stupid scrape even his celebrity won't get him out of! He'll be exiled from the Wizarding World, just like Hagrid, and then we can all do what we want and forget about Harry Potter." She laughed, but realized that it wasn't quite enough. "But saying all of that doesn't really prove anything, does it Tom?" she whispered.
Tom's was shocked; his face full of unconcealed pride. But Ginny didn't notice, she was too struck by something she had said to really notice or remark on it. "Forget Harry," she repeated, in a whisper, and she looked at Tom, a carefully guarded expression on her face.
It was crazy, impossible, and ridiculous. It was perhaps the worst idea Ginny Weasley had ever, ever, in an entire lifetime full of bad ideas, thought of. It was worse than naming Ron's owl Pigwidgeon, worse than the singing valentine, worse than blithely picking up that Diary her first year, worse than stealing it back out of Harry's room. It was a fool move that only a total fool would take.
And yet, he stood there, arms crossed, a smirk on his face, as though he expected it. As though he was asking for it. Which made sense, given how this entire months long argument began, but she still couldn't believe that the idea she had just had of how to prove to Tom Riddle that she was through with Harry Potter was anything but a sign of her descent into utter madness.
She took a step towards him.
His smirk faded a bit. "What?" he asked, eyes narrowing in worry.
She had him worried now; it was almost absurd in its perfection. How squarely were the tables turned from the beginning of the conversation. She was scaring him; surely he couldn't be scared for Harry's welfare, but his own. Which, Ginny had to admit, didn't make much sense at all, but he had always been rather paranoid.
"Forget Harry Potter," she repeated, just loud enough for him to hear, and the tinges of fear in his face only grew more marked. She screwed up all of her famed Gryffindor courage, and did the unthinkable, the unconscionable, and the outright most insane thing Ginny Weasley could have done.
Ginny Weasley, fully aware of the fact that he was probably a dangerous psychopath well on his way to becoming another You-Know-Who, fully aware that he thought love was a joke (and a bad one at that), fully aware that Hermione, Harry, Ron, and every other Gryffindor student or alumnus that she knew would never forgive her bold-hearted rebellion, and most of all fully aware that it was perhaps the most obvious and demonstrable way to immediately distance herself from her family, her friends, and especially Harry Potter, walked up to Tom Riddle with a glint in her eye, reached up to grab him just behind the ears, stood on her tip toes, and kissed him.
It wasn't long, or deep, or the sort of kiss one would write home about (if one wrote home about kisses, that is); he mostly stood, frozen on the spot, but Ginny could sense, with the feeling of a physical blow to her chest, his icy exterior cracking and the floodgates at the back of her mind opening, almost overwhelming her with emotion.
She ended it quickly and took a step away as much out of shock as anything before the incredible shame and embarrassment could follow upon the realization of what she had just done. She turned away, cheeks burning.
He laughed.
She supposed, in the tiny part of her brain that was still functioning properly, that that was a perfectly fitting response in a literary sense; it sharpened the symbolic reversal. But mostly she just felt the heat of embarrassment in her flushed cheeks, the numbness of shame in her knees, and she hoped she could make it the whole way to the Gryffindor Tower without collapsing. The only thing she knew was that the better she was locked up in her room with the drapes pulled around her four-poster, the better. She tried to run away but found that she couldn't.
There was a pressure around her wrist. She looked down to see his hand.
He had grabbed her wrist. And he held on, as she stopped moving. He put his other hand on her shoulder and took a step towards her and she remembered that she had hated it when he was behind her, the last time he had snuck behind her like that he had almost killed her, but this time he was distinctly warm and human rather than cold and translucent and fringed with ink. She shivered anyway. He whispered into her ear, "The reversal is almost poetic." She shut her eyes tight and told herself that it couldn't possibly be happening, she would wake up and this would all be a bad dream and she would have her Potions O.W.L. to go to. The Potions test almost seemed preferable to this. "Why is it that when I do that, it's comical, but when you do that, it's significant?" he asked, with another chuckle, and let go of her wrist.
"I..." Ginny's throat was still dry from embarrassment and shame. She was still too busy being embarrassed to process what he had said. But he had stopped laughing at her; apparently there was nothing much to be ashamed of. She felt the sweet release and the ground beneath her feet solidified. She had nothing much to be ashamed of. That was something in and of itself. And if that was the case, then she could probably chance to turn around so Tom wouldn't be behind her. She forced a light smile, just in case, and turned around to face him again. He was smirking, but not a bit of disdain or mockery showed in his face. She grinned. "I've had more practice," she settled on for an answer.
"Well," he said, replacing his hands on his shoulders. "Perhaps I need a tutor."