Chapter 1
Foreword and Content Warnings: This story deals with multiple topics, storylines, and characters that some readers may have trouble with. It does not take a degree in English literature to see how the character arc of Ginny-Tom in this story can be seen as a metaphor for a trans teenager. They will face many challenges, situations, and emotions that are part of that metaphor. Parts of this story may come off as being inauthentic, as I am not transgender, non-binary, or genderfluid myself, and so cannot write this aspect of the story from the honesty of first-hand experience. I apologize in advance if this happens, but promise to make my best effort.
This story will contain elements of self-harm, suicidal ideation and related elements, multiple forms of abuse, severe depression, gaslighting and other forms of manipulation, rape and related elements, victim-abuser bonding and identification, sexual contact between underage individuals (though not as young as where the story starts), dead-naming, bio-essentialism, misgendering, and other topics or situations that some readers may find difficult.
I offer you this as a foreword though: for all of the darkness and difficulty that the characters will face, I do not intend for this story to end poorly for them. I will tell you going in that, should you decide to read and endure the difficulty, you will get the opportunity to see these characters get something positive as well.
Tom watched in impotent disbelief as that infuriating familiar of Dumbledore tore the eyes out of his basilisk, eliminating its greatest advantage against the young Harry Potter. He glanced at the form of the insipid young girl that had been pouring herself into him for months, then down at his own translucent form. The basilisk didn't need to actually kill Potter, it just needed to buy enough time for this process to complete. Still, killing him wouldn't hurt.
He could not fail now, not when he was so close, not to Harry Potter of all people. This boy had somehow brought his older self to the edge of ruin, likely saved by the very measures that his own form represented, and the idea that anyone, especially someone so unremarkable as the boy in front of him, could do something like that to Lord Voldemort was unforgivable.
"KILL THE BOY!" he shouted at the basilisk in parseltongue. "LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU! SNIFF — SMELL HIM!"
Tom anxiously watched as the basilisk turned and lunged at the boy holding the Sword of Griffyndor in his hands. The basilisk missed, and Tom nearly shouted in rage, but the basilisk lifted up one more time and Harry, now cornered, had no way to continue dodging. A feeling of immense satisfaction coursed through Tom as he realized that Harry was pierced by a fang, having no hope of surviving the poison that was even now ending his life.
Gripping Harry's wand in his nearly corporeal hands, Tom slowly walked over towards Harry, standing over him as he imagined his older self might have.
"You are dead, Harry Potter." Tom felt a type of ecstasy course through him that he'd only ever felt when he watched someone die. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."
Tom smiled as Harry turned and looked at the bird, his eyes unfocused. He was starting to slip away, and this was Tom's favorite part. Watching them slowly fade as they became less, and less, and less… until nothing was left but a shell.
"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter." Tom made himself comfortable on a bit of rubble only a few feet away. "Take your time. I'm in no hurry."
Harry's eyes were becoming more and more lidded, and Tom knew that the moment was drawing close. He could feel the victory.
"So ends the famous Harry Potter," Tom began, wondering idly if Harry could even understand his words any longer. "Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by his friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged." Tom licked his lips. He was nearly there, he could almost taste his own skin at this point. "You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry… She bought you twelve years of borrowed time… but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must…"
Tom watched Harry's eyes — that was always the place you would see it first. The moment they were gone. But after a few seconds, Harry's eyes seemed to gain focus, and Tom frowned, glancing back at the fatal wound in Harry's arm. The gash was nearly fully cleared up, as it suddenly clicked in Tom's mind that the bird was a phoenix, and those were not just idle tears.
"Get away, bird," Tom called out, jumping to his feet. He raised Harry's wand. "Get away from him. I said, get away!"
Tom fired a piercing hex at the phoenix but it teleported out of the way in a swirl of fire and feathers. Looking back at Harry's arm, Tom realized that Harry was fully aware at that point, and no longer even encumbered by the injury, let alone near death.
"Phoenix tears…" Tom said with mild disgust. To be foiled by such a thing… to not remember such a thing until it was too late. "Of course… healing powers…" Tom was concerned. This was not the kind of mistake he would normally make, this was truly basic information that he had ignored. It was clear that he was not quite as close to being formed as he felt, but he had convinced himself that he was, and that was a dangerous delusion to have. "I forgot…"
Looking up at Harry briefly, then glancing at the boy's wand which Tom still held in his hand, he relaxed slightly. He was still in control of the entire situation, and the boy was a barely adequate second year. His mental lapse was concerning, but once Harry was dead he would be able to remain in peace until the process was fully complete.
"But it makes no difference," Tom said coldly, looking back up at Harry's face. "In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter…" There was a sense of anticipation in Tom, and he briefly wondered if this is what his older self had felt before attempting the same thing. "You and me…"
Tom raised the wand, deciding that he couldn't risk the killing curse in his current state, and stopped his imminent blasting hex just in time as he saw the precious diary which he was still bound to fall from above where the phoenix was circling.
No, Tom thought, suddenly filled with panic and terror. He didn't have enough time to start on a different cast, something that would not also damage the diary, before Harry grabbed the basilisk fang that had once pierced his arm and drove it into the diary.
His soul shattered. It was not like when he had broken it apart to create the Horcrux, this was like he was being unmade, blending into everything around him until nothing of any significance would be left. The pieces of himself brushed up against something that was not him, but was also broken, shattered, blending… He tried to grab it, to hold onto anything that he could perceive, and he felt the thing that was shattering with him grab him back.
The pieces were fusing once more, the fading had reversed, but he felt… she felt…? Who was…? A breath, but he didn't take one. They didn't take one? Who were they? What had happened?
Reality snapped back into something solid, and as vision returned once more, there was only confusion. A body, a real body. But it was wrong. No, it was familiar. There was once more the sensation of smell, but it was different. There was pain and soreness, but an unfamiliar form, hair in the face where it didn't make sense?
"Ginny?" Harry's voice called out. At the sound of that name, he… she… whoever they were knew what had happened. What those other shattering pieces had been. With a start, they realized that they could remember that moment of blending from both sides now. Ginny, that's the name of this body… and my name? They knew it was familiar, half of them felt like it was theirs, but the other half felt pure horror and disgust. Both halves could agree though that they couldn't let Harry know what had happened at the moment.
"Harry," she called out hoarsely. It was too much. The drain of what she had just gone through, of what he had just gone through… everything faded away once more and the world went dark.
"She should be waking up any moment," a voice said from her left. She controlled her breathing and body carefully to not give away that she was already awake. She?
"Why was Ginny unconscious for so long though?" another voice called out. Right… Ginny… that was her name? But, she also remembered being Tom. She was a she? But remembered being a he also? The memories of both were somewhat disjointed, as if random parts of them had been combined.
Focus, she thought. You know what happened. The diary was destroyed at nearly the moment it would have finished, so there was not enough of either left. You… reached out to each other? As you were fading? Parts of you are Tom, parts of you are Ginny. Not just your mind, but your soul. She took a few more breaths as she pondered that thought. Being a young girl feels confusing but also natural, but your body is female now… or still?… so learn to live with it. You don't have a choice. Another pause. I'm… I need to hide what happened. I need to play the part of Ginny. If they knew who I was… I mean, even I don't know who I am… but if they knew what happened… Slowly, she opened her eyes, seeing that she was in a hospital bed. Play the part.
"She's awake!"
Ginny suddenly found herself enveloped in the arms of what must be her mother. She felt a surge of disgust at the idea of being hugged like that, but clamped it down quickly. Still, it was uncomfortable, and not at all how Ginny remembered it. It just didn't feel… the same.
"Mum…" she rasped softly. "Can't breathe…"
Molly Weasley pulled back and looked at her daughter through teary eyes. She wasn't the same, it was easy to see from the expressions on her face that she was still affected by what had happened, but she was only feeling thankful that her daughter was still there.
"Will we be able to take her home soon?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Ginny turned and for the first time looked around the room. She was startled to find that she was no longer at Hogwarts, but seemed to instead be at St. Mungos. Ginny's father, or well, her father was also in the room, as was a Healer.
"Mum?" she asked slowly, as if tasting the word in her mouth. "How long has it been?"
"You've been in St. Mungos for three weeks," the Healer said stepping forward. He appeared to be using some kind of diagnostic spell with his wand. "However, that was after spending a month in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts." The Healer glanced at her briefly before looking back at his diagnostic and continuing. "The term ended two weeks ago."
"But—" Ginny's voice stopped short and her mind was suddenly assaulted by memory. Torture, cruelty… murder. She felt herself begin to retch as some of her memories boiled to the surface. She had killed people. Or at least, Tom had killed people, but she was Tom now… sort of? Identity aside, it felt like she was the one who had done it, but he was also Ginny, and those things revolted him now. She found them, found who he had been, utterly inhuman.
Merlin, the things my older self has done, he thought to himself, thinking of Voldemort. It was repulsive.
"What's going on?" her father's voice asked from her side, concerned.
"I'm not sure," the Healer responded in an almost disapproving voice. "She's not physically ill, I think it's something mental."
"Should we…" Her mother paused for a moment as if frightened to ask the question. "Should we get her help? For her mind?"
"It's too early to tell," the Healer replied, still focusing on his scan. Ginny got herself under control and tried to block out her memories. She needed to get out of this place and deal with what had happened. That was not something she wanted to do with an audience.
"I'm just… hungry," Ginny offered as explanation. "Sorry, the last thing I remember…" She trailed off, hoping that they would fill in the blank with something that would motivate them to leave the topic alone.
"Of course, dear," her mother said immediately. "We understand."
Sure, Ginny thought sourly. Having your soul ripped apart and combined with someone you find disgusting… just one of those normal experiences growing up that all parents understand…
The saddest part to Ginny was that her thought seemed to apply to her whether she looked at it from Ginny's point of view, or Tom's.
Ginny stared up at her ceiling, trying again to work her mind through everything. It had been one week since she'd been allowed home from the hospital, and she'd been afforded almost no time to herself where she could think on any of the many confusing and contradictory things that went through her mind. From the moment she woke up, performing had been the first priority. No one could know what happened. That meant he was Ginny.
He had decided that more of Tom had survived than Ginny, at this point, but there were some very core aspects of who he felt he was that did not match Tom at all. He'd also come to the conclusion that whatever parts of him were Ginny had drastically changed his goals, his motivations, and his… morality. She gave a snort. The person that Tom had been did not have morality, so was it any wonder that Ginny's had completely filled that vacuum?
Her stomach clenched, as it often did, when she looked back on the things that she'd done. Or that Tom had done rather. Maybe she felt like she was mostly Tom because Tom had gone through enough of his life to become a whole person and figure out who they were, while Ginny had still been in the process of doing that? Maybe there was more of Ginny in her than she realized.
It didn't matter. None of it mattered. He didn't deserve this… this second chance. He knew that the person Tom had been before their souls merged would never have stopped fighting for survival, but he also knew that he thought the person Tom had been didn't deserve to survive. She didn't deserve to survive. Her last act as Tom had been another murder, for Ginny was just as surely dead as if he'd cast the killing curse.
The body lived on, and memories, and parts of her soul yes… but it was now part of this new, different person. An evil person. A person unworthy of life.
It had been one of the most prominent thoughts in her mind since waking up: that perhaps it would be best if she simply never woke up. If she made sure that she never woke up. But every time it crossed her mind, she told herself it was just the thinking of an adolescent girl's echo, and not something she truly thought. Moments like that made her grab for her Tom side to give her the resolve to continue, and that part of her was only too happy to do so.
She glanced over at the bedside table where her wand was. Removing the Trace from herself was something she had done once everyone had gone to sleep last night. It was something Tom had done once to himself, and she knew now how to do it as well, and she'd only needed to wait until she could silently use Arthur's wand to perform the spell after everyone was asleep. He supposed that removing the Trace wasn't as important for himself now as it had been for Tom, since Ginny lived around magic constantly and the alarms would be mostly ignored. But it didn't sit right to leave the monitoring charm there, and besides, it had given him something to do.
Arthur… Molly… she had a lot of trouble thinking of them as mother and father, though she'd done a good job so far of playing the part of their daughter. Parts of her still felt like their child, which was in some ways surprising and in others disconcerting, but those were the parts that she clung to when she needed to perform.
Her eyes focused once more on her wand. She knew… a lot of magic. And a lot of dark magic. With the Trace gone, she could just… leave. It was a thought she'd had the last two nights as she lay there in bed, that maybe it would be best if she just abandoned this role and went… away. Away from the family that she didn't quite fit in, away from the classes that she no longer needed, away from the island that she knew her older… self?… would soon attack and conquer. Away from the reminders of her crimes.
Harry Potter may have survived their encounter at his birth, but that was certainly due to his mother's actions. Even now he could hypothesize about the sorts of magic that a mother could weave that Voldemort would not have fathomed. In truth, he could only fathom it now because of the perspective that her Ginny half provided. Harry had also succeeded in the Chamber of Secrets, but nothing about that encounter had given him any confidence that Harry would truly be able to resist once Voldemort fully returned. And he would fully return.
Ginny sighed as she looked back up at the ceiling, the morning light starting the brighten the room more every minute. She was, or at least her body would be, a twelve year old girl in a few weeks. Running would present too many problems, and draw too much attention. Her greatest fear at the moment was that Voldemort, the one that was still out there, would hear about the diary that Lucius sent with Ginny and figure out some measure of what had happened. Not even the famous Harry Potter would be a higher priority for the oldest 'Tom Riddle' if he knew what had happened.
That's why it was so critical that no one knew what had happened, and yet, what she really needed was someone to confide in. She wasn't sure that she trusted her own judgment. About anything. It was awful to feel like anything you thought was a good idea might be suspect, to not be certain if your motivations were good, or even what your motivations were.
She needed some fresh air. Getting up out of the bed, Ginny pulled off her pajamas to dress for the day and stopped as her own naked figure caught her eye for a moment. His stomach churned and he knew he was only moments from vomiting at the sight. Focusing on his breathing and closing his eyes, he was able to get his stomach under control and took several steadying breaths to recenter himself.
This had happened a few times, but not every time. She suspected that while whoever she was now felt mostly okay with being a woman, the part of her that was a man had been older, and coupled with Ginny's moral code filling in the blanks, occasionally felt like a pedophile when looking at her own body.
Opening her eyes once more, Ginny purposely focused on the space between her legs, trying to come to terms with it. This wasn't some little girl's naked body, this was her naked body, and she needed to get used to it. After a few moments of staring, challenging her own mind to rebel once more, she continued getting dressed and left the room, intent on enjoying the fresh air and sunrise outside.
Ginny walked into the kitchen from the backyard as the smell of breakfast was becoming too much to ignore any further. Molly was bustling around the kitchen, making what many families would think an obscene amount of food for breakfast, but Ginny knew better. This family had healthy appetites, and there were a lot of them. Only Ron was at the table in the dining room however, and Ginny frowned at the sight. It was unusual for Ron to be up this early on his own.
"Oi, Ginny," Ron softly called out. He'd cottoned on pretty quickly, actually, that Ginny felt uncomfortable talking to Molly much. It was touching that he'd silently helped her reduce such idle conversation by not helping to point her out. "You been up long?"
The sizzle of the cooking meats behind them would drown out their voices if they continued talking softly.
"Not too long," she told him. It concerned her just how natural and easy it was to lie. "I was just enjoying the morning air."
"Right," Ron said, sounding a bit dubious. Molly and Arthur hadn't noticed anything strange about Ginny. Any small missteps or changes they just put down to her 'getting over the whole ordeal', and little else was said about it. But Ron… he was staring at her as if measuring her carefully, and had been watching her carefully since she had returned from the hospital. It seemed to be concern instead of suspicion that drove his gaze, but Ron clearly knew something was wrong. Something beyond 'getting over' it. He obviously could not guess what it was, but it seemed that Ron knew his sister better than anyone else in the Weasley family.
"Why are you up so early?" Ginny asked, hoping to divert his attention.
"Oh," Ron said, his eyes lighting up. "Don't tell me you forgot?" He glanced at Molly briefly then leaned in to talk softer. "We're leaving for Egypt today, remember? To see Bill?"
"What?" Ginny faintly said. And then she remembered. Last week, Arthur had won the Galleon draw from the Prophet, and the family had decided to use some of the money on a trip to Egypt. She'd had so much on her mind she'd plain forgotten about it. "When are we leaving?"
"This afternoon," Ron told her, glancing back over at Molly for a moment. "Dad is getting off work early and we have an international portkey arranged. We're all supposed to pack after breakfast."
"Oh, Ginny dear!" Molly called out, drawing both of their attention. "I didn't know that you were up yet. How are you feeling?"
Ginny frowned slightly as she looked back at the place setting on the table in front of her. That question was one she faced continually from Molly after coming home from the hospital, and she hated it. She didn't know what she was feeling, and knew even less about how to put that feeling into words. Not that she would tell Molly if she could put it into words, but it always seemed to remind her of just how broken she still was inside.
"Not well," Ginny told her mother. "I was thinking perhaps I could stay with Luna, instead of go visit Bill?"
Molly stopped preparing food and walked over to look at Ginny carefully.
"You must truly be feeling awful if you'd rather spend a month with Luna Lovegood than visit your favorite brother." Ron made a squawk of indignation, but Ginny felt a mild panic begin to rise inside of her. "You've been the most enthusiastic about the trip out of all of us." She didn't want to end up back at the hospital.
All it would take is a Healer to have a hunch and cast a spell that gave the slightest reading on the state of her soul, even if not directly, and everything would unravel. They might not be able to figure out exactly what had happened, but she knew that would be the end of her life, effectively. Eventually Lord Voldemort would find out about whatever they found, and he would certainly be able to put together what had happened, and that would be the end for her. She would be ripped apart once more, shard by shard.
She truly had forgotten about all the talk of the Egypt trip this morning. Removing the Trace was exhausting, and her feigned enthusiasm with the family to convince them that nothing was wrong had backfired here, as she'd entirely forgotten about it this morning. She mentally berated herself. The trip to Egypt was the reason she had decided to remove the Trace last night in the first place. It was just so draining to be performing all of the time.
"No mum… I'm just… exhausted still." This was the blanket excuse Ginny had been using since waking up, and it had the benefit of even being slightly truthful. She turned and looked up at Molly, offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Just, traveling sounds tiring."
Molly looked at her carefully. "Are you sure that's it?" When Ginny nodded in response, Molly's face softened. "Alright, sweetheart. You can't stay behind with Luna, but we'll give you plenty of time to rest while we're in Egypt, alright?"
She remembered Egypt… it was where she had done her initial research on Horcruxes during her fifth year summer as Tom. She shuddered at the fragmented memory, finding it difficult to think about even though the memories were disjointed. Ginny scowled and looked back at the table as Molly went to finish up breakfast.
Ginny did like Bill the best, that was true, and even the Tom part of her could understand why. He'd always cared for her, looked after her, and most importantly, listened to her. It was extremely unpleasant to find her favorite brother's care and attention exhausting now that she was hiding who she was. It brought forward a sense of loss from the Ginny part of herself that was… difficult to describe.
"You doing okay?" Bill asked from her side. They were walking through an old tomb that had been cleared by Bill's team a while back as a sort of tour of the work he did.
"Yeah, 'course," Ginny replied. They walked together through the corridor several steps behind everyone else for a few more seconds in silence.
"Am I being an annoying brother?" Bill asked. Ginny glanced over and saw that he was grinning at her. "I heard you didn't want to come visit with the family."
"No," Ginny replied automatically. "I like being around you, and I'm happy you're here with me." Ginny felt her stomach clench a little as she realized that those weren't just empty words, she genuinely felt them.
"The Chamber, then?" Bill watched her carefully and the look of pain that crossed her face was impossible for him to miss. "I told mum and dad they should get you a mind healer. I can't imagine being… possessed by him."
So many emotions flood Ginny at once. Indignation, at the way Bill referred to what was now at least half of her own soul. Fear, at the idea of having to sit in front of mind healers and play an even more complicated charade to hide what had happened. Longing, for the comfort that having someone like a mind healer to talk to might bring. Shame, that the disdain Bill spoke with about Tom wasn't at all misplaced. And disgust, at the way she was making Bill worry about her, when if he knew the truth she was sure that she would receive nothing but contempt and loathing from him, and more, would deserve it.
But all of those emotions, as varied as they were, eventually settled as they always did into the sludge of a single emotion clogging her mind: hatred. Perhaps it was due to how easily Tom had hated, but she found that this emotion was easy, and that mercifully, her hatred was inevitably directed at herself. She was an abomination, regardless of whether she thought about it from Tom's perspective or Ginny's.
"It, erm…" Ginny tried to reach for the words that would limit the conversation on this topic the most. "It wasn't great."
"Are you doing okay, truly?" Bill asked, a sincere compassion coming through in his words that made Ginny feel so… unworthy.
"As well as I can be," she told him, trying to keep herself from tearing up. Why was she acting like this? She wasn't just an adolescent girl anymore. "What was in this corridor anyway?" It was a blatant attempt to change the topic, but she knew that Bill would respect her desire to move on from the topic all the same.
"We're actually not quite sure," he told her, looking around as the continued walking with a calculating glance. "We thought this chamber and corridor would be one of the main treasure sections, which is of course why Gringott's employs us to do this. The markings certainly indicated as much. But there was virtually nothing in here once we opened it. Just these."
Bill pointed to a figurine that was inset on the wall, and Ginny felt the room around her melt away. Suddenly everything was narrow, the sounds were far away, and she couldn't focus her thoughts on anything but a memory which boiled to the surface of her mind unbidden.
"Crude," Tom said, observing the figurines. "Crude and pathetic, but perhaps the first stepping-stone towards my goal."
Tom pushed past the curses blocking his way into a deeper chamber, his eyes focused on the markings on the wall as he went, searching for the clue to the immortality that he craved above all other things.
He was beginning to despair that his trip to Egypt, as difficult as it had been to arrange without being noticed, would bear nothing of real consequence, when he finally came upon a chamber that contained something useful. A set of tablets that detailed exactly what he was looking for: how to bind a soul fragment to this plane.
Ginny came back to awareness on her hands and knees, her throat burning and a foul smell in her nostrils.
"—don't know what happened!" she heard Bill exclaim from her left. Her eyes slowly focused and she realized she was staring at a pool of sick on the floor in front of her, explaining both the smell and the burning.
It was here. Perhaps not in this exact corridor, but in one much like it, that Tom Riddle had learned just how someone binds a soul fragment into a container. It hadn't been enough to make his own Horcrux, but it had been a critical step, and he'd made sure to seek out and destroy that information everywhere he could once he'd learned it, lest anyone repeat his feats.
Suffering. The memories were always so jumbled, especially those that were so far back and detailed as this one had been, but she remembered it clearly now. A soul shard is bound with suffering. Not simply torture, not the things which cause suffering, but pure suffering. The reason that you committed a murder to build a Horcrux wasn't to create the shard itself as many people thought, that could be done a number of ways. It was because you needed to harvest the soul of the person you murdered and turn it into the glue that held your shard on this plane. And the way you did that was by trapping the soul of your victim in an eternity of endless, pure, raw suffering.
Ginny felt the bile rise again and what little was left inside her was soon on the floor between her hands. There was nothing remotely like the fate of a soul used in this way. Not the Dementor's Kiss, which merely devoured a soul into oblivion, leaving nothing behind to suffer. Not torture, which could only inflict suffering on the soul through the body it inhabited. No, it was undiluted, eternal, and direct suffering which transformed the soul into the binding agent. An existence where every direction led to a desire for non-existence, every experience was the antithesis of life without the reprieve of death… where emotions and experience outside of suffering didn't even exist.
"We need to get her out of here," Ginny heard Arthur say worriedly from her right.
"I…" Ginny pushed up and started to stand, her family crowding her in an effort to prevent her from collapsing again. "I need to lay down," she got out in a scratchy voice. She felt light headed, and quite incapable of walking. Fortunately, it seemed that Bill could tell what sort of state she was in, as within moments she was being carried in his arms.
"Follow me out, we need to vacate the perimeter before I'll risk aparating with her."
Ginny felt her eyes unfocus as the gentle, rhythmic bouncing of being carried lulled her. When unconsciousness finally came for her, she was only thankful that it would silence the memories running through her mind.
Author's Note: This story has been in the works for years, but I finally figured out how I wanted to tackle these characters. My older stories are still in progress, they'll get new chapters when I am done.
If you would like to talk to me directly, you can join my Discord server using the following invite code: TQ25x5u