Disclaimer:

I don't own HP or the characters. Anything you don't recognize as HP is mine though!

Author's Note:

Hey, peeps, this is my rewrite of The Sun, Moon, and Sounds that Bind Them. For those of you who have read it, I warn you at the beginning it will sound almost completely different, but will be working out the same way. In fact I'll be taking some parts directly from the original story that I liked. Those who haven't read it that's okay you have to! I promise, I will not be starting this over again, and I'll try to update as soon as possible!

"Hello darling," hissed a sinister voice

9:58 AM The Burrow

"Hello darling," a sinister voice hissed in her ear. Shivers ran down Ginevra's spine as her eyes widened, searching throughout the darkness, trying to find where he was hiding.

A low, cruel chuckle sounded throughout the dark. "Darling, you should know better then that. You know you won't be able to see me until I want to be seen."

Ginevra shook her head violently. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't back. He just couldn't be. She was just imagining it. It was just a dream. Yes it had to be!

"Stupid child! You know I am no dream! I am here and I am real! Stop trying to trick yourself with this foolery. It's embarrassing that my vessel could ever act with such stupidity!"

Ginevra whimpered, all strength and confidence long gone. She shouldn't be like this. She had grown into an impeccable witch over the years, and could out-duel many. She was strong and fearless, not to mention smart. She was at the top of all of her classes, especially potions, and was in the library more then Granger, learning new spells and potions daily. Sure not all of these were 'light' potions, some of them being extremely dark and dangerous, but she was powerful; powerful enough not to let her mind run away with the magic and get lost among the stars, galaxies away. Which, considering some of the material she had gone through and some of the magic she had done was more then just impressive.

But despite her being powerful and smart she still had one fear. A fear that seemed to be back, and it didn't sound as if he were leaving.

A rumble sounded as his chuckles morphed into full out laughing. A cruel laugh; not at all humorous. "I've got you Ginevra, you'll never escape from me. I will haunt you always, even after your death."

Ginevra's eyes found themselves tightly shut while she muttered to herself about how this couldn't be real while cursing anyone and everyone who had once claimed she was free of him.

"Ginny!" This voice was different. Impatient, annoyed, and quite frankly obnoxious.

"Ginny get up!" It was coming from…somewhere out there…somewhere beyond the darkness…somewhere…

Suddenly she was being shaken as she was drawn from her sleep with a start. "Wadghe…Rogu sholp…" muddled sounds came from her mouth as she opened her eyes.

"Come on Gin! It's ten o'clock already! You should have been up hours ago! You're going to make up miss the train!" Ron's irritated voice squawked as he stomped around her room, pulling the almost useless curtains away from the windows, causing even more light then there already was liter itself across Ginevra's room and more particularly her bed.

Ginevra groaned, annoyed at the unpleasant disruption, nightmare or not. "Awright, awright, I'm up!" she moaned, her voice still groggy. She dragged herself over and slid of the bed, doing her best not to fall to the floor.

But Ron had already left, not really concerned if she were awake or not.

Sighing, Ginevra grabbed her towel and toiletries, made her way downstairs and into the empty bathroom. Apparently everyone else was already up and had already showered, Ginevra noted at the lack of an impatient line.

Ginevra locked the bathroom door, knowing it was practically useless in a house full of wizards, especially if someone really wanted to get in. But still it made her feel the slightest bit more secure, security something she often strived for.

Avoiding looking at the mirror Ginevra stripped out of her nightclothes and turned on the shower, knowing it was useless to wait for warm water as her siblings always used it up before she got there. In fact, Ginevra was pretty sure it had been years sense her last hot, or mildly warm, shower.

Slipping under the spray Ginevra closed her eyes, letting the frigid water wash over her, soaking her hair and skin. Quickly shampooing and conditioning her hair she grabbed the soap, making sure to get ever last bit of dirt from her body. It wasn't long before all coherent thoughts were lost as she scrubbed furiously with the soap against her own skin. Harder and harder she scrubbed, as if trying to scrub the skin off of her muscle, muscle off of bone.

Tears burst from her eyes as her nails scraped against her own skin, leaving bright red scratch marks. It was only a matter of seconds before she was on the floor of the shower, sobbing, tears spilling down her face, combining with the water splashing down on her meek form.

Once she was finally able to pull herself together she stood up again and turned the water off. Sniffling she stepped from the shower and grabbed her small towel, wrapping it around herself as well as she could.

She sat herself down on the ridge of the bathtub, face void of any emotion, staring at her hands. One could only blame her so much; she had been holding that in all summer, just waiting for it to pounce out and take her, tearing all rational thoughts from her mind.

There was only so much of this she could take. Tom was still haunting her, after almost five years. No one else knew of course, no one but her. She just couldn't seem to find the ability to go to any one of her family members and telling them that Tom was still there every time she closed her eyes. Not after she had reassured them time and again that he was gone. Gone from her thoughts, sights, and dreams, gone from her mind completely.

But it was all a lie. He had never left her thoughts, and always haunted her mind. She just hadn't been able to stand the stares, the looks they gave her every time there was even the slightest suspicion the Dark Lord was still possessing her. Their eyes were always so accusing, always jumping to her whenever news of peril or murder reached the household, mostly via The Daily Prophet.

It was all she could do not to scream at them. 'It's not me! We're not connected any more! He has other followers to do his dirty work! It's not me! You were here I never left! It can't be me! It's not me! It's him!' But she kept her mouth shut. Although it was completely true, it wasn't her.

And then there was that whole Potter issue. No she did not have a crush on Harry, and no she did not want to have his babies! Yet for some reason her brothers seemed to endlessly tease her for it, no matter how much she denied it. Sure she had liked him a bit before her first year, but that was before. Before she really got to know him, back when she only liked him because he was famous, cute, and her brother's friend. Now that she knew him, well quite frankly she found him to be one of the most boring people of their time. And that was saying something.

Taking a deep breath Ginevra stood up again, finally gathering to courage to look in the steamed mirror.

Wiping the water droplets away Ginevra stared at her slightly blurred reflection. She looked like hell and that was all there was to it. Her wet matted hair stuck her face in chunks, water dripping from them every couple of seconds. There were bags under her eyes; her nose was red, her face ghastly pale making her freckles more prominent. And her eyes, well they looked just plain dead. Their normal bright chocolate brown color looked faded and washed out. Not to mention she was skinny as hell, something she just couldn't seem to help. She was just never hungry and whenever she did try and eat she felt like throwing up.

Ginevra sighed again, holding back another wave of tears. How was it that no one noticed her pain when she looked like she was an inferni for crying out loud? How could no one see that she was dying both emotionally and physically if she didn't start eating some time soon?

Tearing her eyes away from the mirror Ginevra cursed herself for not bring a change of cloths down. Living in a household of seven men and only two women had gotten her into the habit, but she forgot from time to time, this being one of those times.

Ginevra opened the bathroom door a crack. Seeing no one she grabbed her toiletries and dashed upstairs two steps at a time. Slamming her bedroom door behind her Ginevra let out a sigh of relief, glad that no one saw her.

"Ginny! Hurry up; we're going to be late! It's already ten forty-five!" her mum's voice screeched from downstairs.

Ginevra rolled her eyes. This year they were going by floo so there was really no need to hurry. And she was willing to be that Ron wasn't ready either, but of course he was with the Golden Boy so there was no reason to yell at him.

"Coming mum!" she shouted downstairs. Not wanting to get yelled at again she did her best to hurry while getting dressed and throwing a few last minute things into the trunk she had packed last night.

Once she was finished she sighed, gave a last look around the room, making sure she didn't forget anything, and left, not caring that it would be almost seven months before she saw the room again.

Ten Hours Earlier, Malfoy Manor

Draco Malfoy sat, slumped on the floor, leaning against his bed in a very undignified manner. Were his father here he would have bashed him over the head just for looking so improper, alone in his room or not.

Moaning Draco opened his eyes at the bleary sight before him. Not that there was really anything to be seen but the doorway to his other rooms.

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, begging the oncoming migraine to go vex some other worthless being. Yet still pain spread throughout the left side of his head, laughing at his attempts to keep it at bay.

While scrambling to his bathroom in the back of his mind he noted hearing someone open the door and walk in, completely uninvited.

It wasn't his father- he always announced his presence by knocking before entering, whether he was granted entry or no- so Draco had no reason to care. He stumbled to the cupboard distraught when he found he had gulped down the last of his migraine-relieving potion the other day.

Groaning in anguish Draco returned to his bedroom, squinting in pain when the bright light of his lamp met his eyes, causing his head to pound even more.

"Cathia, did you have to turn the light on?" he asked heatedly. His cousin, Cathia Netwick was lying on his black leather couch staring up at the ceiling, ignoring him completely.

Stumbling around his bed Draco blindly reached for his lamp switch. "Don't." Cathia voiced softly, stopping him before he had even found the switch.

"Why not? It's hurting my head, and I want it off!" he whined. Were it anyone but his cousin he would be acting much more polite and courteous. But manners were lost between them, replaced a long time ago by sibling rivalry.

"You know, Draco, you don't always get what you want," came her small reply. That was when Draco knew something was wrong. Cathia was fierce natured, snapping at him every chance she got with her wicked sense of humor. There were only rare times when she displayed signs of weakness and despite her and Draco's closeness he could count the number of times he had seen that happen on his left hand.

"What happened?" He asked moving to sit on the edge of the couch, to avoid squishing her legs. Thinking past his migraine he remembered his father mentioning something about a dinner at the Zabini household. Of course because Cathia was staying there with Blaise so she would have to of attended that dinner. Something must have gone wrong.

"A lot of things happened. Things don't seem to stop happening." Cathia's face scrunched up, and he could tell she was trying to make herself forget, to think of something else, something less painful.

Draco's eyes twitched around the room nervously. He hated situations like these. He was no good with comforting people, having a hard time getting his thoughts away from his own pain in the first place. If only Blaise were here, he's good at this stuff.

Cathia made a small sound that sounded slightly amused, but before Draco could inquire about it the door burst open, the cushioning charm on the wall being the only reason it didn't smash to pieces.

In sprinted Blaise whose normally tanned olive skin was almost as pale as Draco's. "Draco is Ca…Cathia!" he rushed over to them the moment he saw her lying there.

Draco, grateful for Blaise's arrival stood back while Blaise embraced Cathia tighter then Draco thought possible.

Silence followed and eventually Draco walked over to his bed, knowing that if he didn't get to sleep soon he would end up staying up all night. Still wearing his cloths, Draco jumped into his bed and under the covers. From where he was he had a perfect view of Blaise holding Cathia in his arms as she squeezed her eyes shut and grasped onto him like her life depended on it. Blaise was running his fingers through her long black hair with its unnatural bright golden highlights. They weren't the golden color people normally associate with hair colors, but truly the golden metal color. True they weren't natural, but she had them as long as Draco could remember, never having problems with fading or roots because they were purely magic.

A small shiver ran down Draco's back as he contemplated the current situation. Something must have happened to rile her up like this, and knowing Cathia it had to be pretty bad. Cathia didn't get riled up like this. Ever. She was probably the strongest person Draco knew both mentally and magically.

Deciding that he'd find out what happened later he flopped over and covered his eyes with his arm so as to block out the light he knew he wasn't going to be allowed to turn off. Any remains of his migraine were gone or completely forgotten and slowly he drifted to sleep.

3:48 Malfoy Manor

Being a light sleeper Draco awoke only a couple of hours later, most likely because of his lamp still as bright as ever. Sitting up groggily Draco opened his eyes to a scene not much different then the one when he had fallen asleep. Cathia was sprawled out on his couch, her head resting in Blaise's lap. Her eyes were closed so she was probably asleep, but with Cathia you never knew. Blaise was still wide-awake though, his eyes never leaving Cathia's peaceful-looking face.

"How is she doing?" Draco asked quietly as not to startle his friend.

Keeping his eyes on Cathia, Blaise shrugged, "She's been better," he replied.

Taking a deep breath Draco exhaled noisily. He was going to have to beat around the bush here before asking Blaise what happened.

The thought was cut off, "We were in the middle of dinner, and everything was going fine. It was mainly Deatheaters there, but some other important people too. I guess it doesn't really matter, only that they were all soulless bastards…"

Blaise's pause was so long for a second Draco wondered whether he was still awake but eventually he continued. "The third course was almost finished and I could tell things were starting to wrap up. Someone important- I forget who- started talking to Rodolphus about Cathia. They spoke like she wasn't even there…until…they asked her a question. Something about her tutors I think. That's when it went all wrong."

Blaise shook his head slightly, and Draco knew that for some reason he was blaming himself for something, just like he always did.

"Blaise I'm sure it wasn't…"

"But it was! I should have noticed! I was to caught up in my own silly thoughts to notice that she was in the middle of a vision, and not and a painful one at that."

Draco cringed at the thought. Cathia Netwick- his cousin- was far more then just a normal witch. Why, or how she had become more powerful then any other witch or wizard on the planet was a pure mystery, although completely true. An unfortunate side effect to this being she was she got visions. Not just normal visions or crap fake-outs like that stupid bint Trelawney but true sights of what will happen and what is happening, sometimes even what had already happened.

Most of the time she could control what she saw and when, over the years learning how to define what she was seeing through her real eyes and what was a Sight. But most of all Cathia was mastered at being able to tell when her vision would occur down the last second and exactly where which was rare among the rare few that had a gift like hers.

Unfortunately there were occasional visions that Cathia wasn't able to block out or stall for when she was alone. And these visions came with a pain so immense it could bring Cathia to her knees within seconds, and this is a girl who could stand up straight without so much as a wince while under the Cruciatus curse.

"What happened?" Draco asked, almost scared of the answer.

"She started screaming and thrashing around. She fell over in her chair and…they just watched. None of them moved a muscle while she was screaming out in pain, sobbing and convulsing on the floor. I tried to go to her, but my father wouldn't let me.

"Eventually she stopped, although she was just barely conscious. Rodolphus was turning red he was so angry and he snapped within seconds. Next thing I knew he was kicking her with more force then I thought possible. He started hexing her with spells I didn't recognize, but I could tell she was dying from the pain.

"Once she was unconscious he just sat back down at the table and…and everyone just started conversing again while dessert was served as if nothing had happened. It was disgusting. None of them cared. Not one of them was the slightest bit shaken by what had just happened and no one paid attention as she bled on the floor. The only reason I didn't go over and punch Rodolphus's lights out was because he was on the other side of the table and by the time I would have gotten there someone would have stopped me."

Blaise's face paled considerably as he recalled the event. Draco knew the feeling well; seeing someone you care about withering in pain but not being able to do anything about it because you know it will just cause them more pain along with yourself.

To think those stupid Gryffindors call them soulless on a daily basis.

"I'm pretty sure one of the house elves apperated her to her room because when the dinner was over she was gone. From what I can see it must have healed her as well because I don't see a scratch on her, and I can assure you there was more then just scratches. I came looking for her as soon as I could but she had left her room by the time I could get away. It wasn't hard to guess that she had come here."

Draco nodded, slightly shaken. Knowing Blaise he had most definitely understated the extent of Cathia's beating for he had never seen either of them so shaken up.

"I mean…Draco…some of those curses were- darker then dark. I've seen some pretty bad curses in my time but never something that could make Cathia scream like she did. I was so scared that- that she was…I mean…"

He knew what Blaise meant, and that was enough.

Silence rung throughout the room, neither knowing what to say. Eventually Draco looked over at the clock, startled when he saw it was 4:03.

"Y-you two should probably go. We have to catch the train tomorrow and if I know Cathia she hasn't finished packing. Also, your going to want to get her back before the house elves realize that she's gone."

Blaise nodded, more grateful then ever that she was staying at his estate for the last week of the summer so he wouldn't have to bring her back to her home and that horrible father of hers.

After gathering the sleeping Cathia into his arms Blaise looked towards his best friend, more grateful towards him then he could have imagined. "Hey Dre?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Draco nodded once.

Stepping lightly Blaise made his way over to the fireplace and flooed over to his rooms.

Knowing Cathia wouldn't want to be alone when she woke he settled her into his own bed, before stripping down to his boxers and climbing in after her.

An extreme sense of adoration filled him as he looked at his best friend. He had known her for so long, told each other every thought, every secrete. They'd comforted each other in times of pain and fear, and had joked around with each other when the other needed a laugh. And Blaise knew when Cathia needed a laugh, Cathia knew when Blaise needed to be comforted, Blaise knew when Cathia was scared, whether she showed her feeling so not, and Cathia knew when he was in pain both emotional and physical.

It was as if they could read each other's minds, even when they were kilometers apart. Of course in Cathia's case she could read Blaise's mind, but even when she wasn't she could still tell. They knew each other better then anyone else, and both of them knew in their hearts that they were meant to be more then what they were; more then just friends. And Blaise wanted to, more then anything, more then he could ever imagine. But he knew he couldn't. Being anything more then what they were would be like condemning themselves to death. That or it would be even more painful for each of them when…

Shaking the thoughts from his mind Blaise turned out his lamp and rolled over, trying to keep all thoughts of the beautiful goddess sleeping right beside him from his mind.

A/N: REVIEW! So I update sooner (and so I actually update)