Suffocating pressure and a buzzing hum softened as Ginny woke sitting in her desk chair. No light filtered through the window leaving shadows cast by a full moon dancing across the walls. What time was it? A few moments ago she was suffering through Professor Binn's History of Magic lecture chatting idly with Tom. It had been Thursday morning.
Soft candlelight illuminated the room proving it was no longer morning. Wax dripped steadily down the candle on her desk; judging by the accumulation it had been burning for several hours. Grabbing a worn quill needing to be replaced, Ginny jammed it into the ink bottle. She no longer cared about ink splatters on Tom's pristine pages.
"Tom when is it? How much time did I lose?" Ginny wrote leaving tiny tear marks from the force of her quill.
"Ginny! Are you okay? You went away for so long; I was incredibly worried about you. It is the evening, the first of November.
Ginny slammed the diary shut feeling her heart rate speeding. Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. She lost four days. How could she be so stupid to lose more time? What happened during the last four days? Her mind whirled with thoughts splintering in a thousand different directions as her heartbeat quickened until it was out of sync with her body. Would Dumbledore make her leave Hogwarts if she kept losing time? Would people think she was crazy?
Grabbing the diary again silent tears streamed against her cheeks. She buried her head into her arms trying to push them away without her dorm mates noticing.
"Tom, I am scared. I don't know who to tell I am losing time. What is going to happen to me?"
"Well, I have never heard of someone losing time like you do my dear. My only thoughts would be to send you to St. Mungos. They have a secure ward for people who can't control their magic however, it is a scary place. I volunteered there once and I don't want to see you there."
Coldness flooded Ginny's skin. A boulder in her stomach twisted causing her body to shake with terror. Would they make her leave Hogwarts? Would she be able to go home?
"What do I do? Please help. I can't keep losing time."
"I am sure it is stress. You are such a young witch to have so much power. I feel it radiating off your skin. Maybe if you talk to me whenever you feel scared I can help you before you lose time. Don't tell anyone at the school, even your brothers. They would never understand you are not crazy. I know you, my dear. You are precious to me. I know your thoughts, fears, hopes, and dreams. I know you are as pure as the blood flowing in your veins. I will do everything in my power to keep you close and safe with me," Tom's words washed over Ginny calming her inner turmoil and bringing a small semblance of comfort until they faded; leaving her alone with a blank white page.
Ginny transported to a small stark white room. Disinfectant potion overpowered her nose with a burning sensation. There was a small white nightstand next to a twin bed with a single thin gray thread barren blanket. No photos or pictures were found on the desolate bleached walls. A mixture of muffled shrieks and pleading screams caterwauled around her. Running to the door she grabbed the handle twisting hard propelled by a feral desperation to escape. The door was locked. Panic seized her realizing she was trapped. Ginny banged her fists and released a savage futile scream for anyone to hear her plea, "Mum! Please, Tom! Anyone!"
She slid face first against the door until she fell to the floor. Her balled fist repeatedly banged the door above her head. She continued to pound for hours begging for anyone to release her. Surrendering from exhaustion she curled into a ball on the cold tile floor ceasing her screams and pounding.
She was back in her room. She jerked her head towards her roommates. Everyone was in the exact same position. Mira and Beryl were talking quietly on Mira's bed while Xenia braided a blue silk ribbon into Adelaide's golden hair. Ginny shivered in her chair as relief flooded when she realized she sat in her safe and comforting room. The candle wax kept dripping in the holder on her desk but, judging by wax accumulation no time had passed.
The redolence of sterile disinfectant potion lingered bringing with it waves of anxiety. She threw the diary at her bed and ran past her roommates desperate to leave the stench of the white room behind. Mira exchanged a knowing look with Beryl. The girls, who stopped trying to talk to Ginny a few weeks ago, watched her leave in silence. As soon as her she left the room Ginny heard the murmurs of "freak" followed by cascading nervous laughter. She shakily walked to the common room and found Colin sitting by the fire loading film into his camera.
"Hello Colin," Ginny tried containing the tremble in her hands. She sank in the armchair closest to the fire desperate to replace the horrible sterile smell with charred wood.
"Oh, so you are talking to me again?" said Colin.
"I am sorry what?" Ginny stiffened in her seat. Colin did not answer but kept adjusting the film in his camera. He sighed and looked at her.
"Strange thing about Mrs. Norris. Think Harry did it?"
"Did what?" asked Ginny.
"Petrified the cat on Halloween," he enunciated as if he was speaking to a dimwitted three-year-old. "Anyway, I don't think he would do something like that. You were right the first day, he is a good bloke. Quiet and hates talking, but a good bloke. He doesn't have it in him to hurt a cat."
He closed the back of his camera and put the strap back around his neck.
"Well, I need to grab a few more shots before curfew," Colin paused as he stood. "Want to meet for breakfast tomorrow?"
"Sure," said Ginny as Colin walked towards the portrait hole. She sat in her chair and stared into the fire. Why would people think Harry killed a cat? What happened to Mrs. Norris over Halloween? Did this have to do with her missing days?
Ginny avoided touching the diary for the rest of the week terrified of being transported back to the white room. She left it locked at the bottom of her trunk wrapped in the defiled robe from the day she woke in Hagrid's garden. Saturday after breakfast she found herself walking with Colin to the Quidditch pitch. Despite the dark and drizzling weather, Ginny felt warmer and lighter than she had since arriving at school. They walked in comfortable silence. Ginny gazed longingly at the field mentally reviewing Chaser formations while Colin adjusted knobs on the top of his camera.
"Hold on," said Colin. "I want to go get a few shots of Harry and the team before they head out. Want to come with me?"
"No thanks," replied Ginny eager to avoid the inevitable awkwardness that came being within ten feet of Harry. "There are few empty seats left. Let me go save you one before the stands are completely full."
Ginny walked the steps through the stands. She pushed herself to the top of the stands where the wind would cause the seats to sway. If she couldn't be in the air with the team, at least she could feel the momentum of the wind rocking. She spied Ron and Hermione closer to the front. Ron was leaning forward studying the empty field with militaristic attention. Hermione had her nose in a large book looking as if she were cramming for a final exam instead of watching a Quidditch match.
"You won't believe the amazing shots I was able to grab during Oliver's pep talk! I would have grabbed some of them gearing up and leaving the tent but Fred, or was it, George? No, it was definitely Fred, tried to smack a practice bludger at my head." Colin spoke so quickly he lost his footing and tripped on Ginny's foot falling into an unsuspecting third year's lap.
Ginny laughed heartedly, almost falling out of her seat, unbothered by Colin's reddening face. He apologized several times gesturing wildly how he did not mean to sit on the unsuspecting third-year girl's lap and begged her a thousand pardons. The poor girl looked more bewildered by the apology than the unsuspecting assault and tried to wave Colin away.
The crowd's excitement electrified the stands with an effervescent energy. Everyone except for Slytherin house was rallying behind Gryffindor. It was no secret Malfoy bought his way onto the team with his Daddy's donation of new brooms. Ginny jumped to her feet cheering loudly with the surrounding crowd as her brothers and Harry flew above the pitch.
Next year it will be her on the broomsticks flying. She was certain she could talk her way into a tryout next year. What happened to her plan of talking to Professor McGonagall? Her memory was filled with holes. Ginny shifted uncomfortably trying to suppress the lack of memories. A whistle blew and the players shot into the air. She tried to focus on the excitement of the game but her mood sank into a downward spiral as anxiety settled in her stomach.
Pushing away her anxious thoughts she settled into the game. The Chasers were running tight formations. Alicia passed to Angelina as Katie barrel rolled into an opening downfield. Angelina took advantage of the diversion and threw above to Alicia who had risen to scoring position. Before Alicia could score a bludger whipped above her broom. The bludger changed paths and hooked around Alicia. It angled straight for Harry who flew lazy circles above looking for the snitch.
Ginny looked for the Slytherin beaters but they were both downfield with confused expressions. Fred and George kept maneuvering across the field trying to keep up with the rogue bludger. Despite the lack of interference from the other beaters, they struggled to control the bludger. Ginny shifted on the hard wooden seat.
The bludger seemed to be avoiding all of the other players as it kept diverting and heading towards Harry. Her heart was in her throat as she watched him dodge and weave another stray bludger. The majority of the crowd focused on the Slytherin chasers interception from Alicia and scoring another goal against a frustrated Oliver. She looked down to Ron to see if he noticed Fred and George looking out of sync in the sky but his gaze was fixated on Oliver playing keeper.
The whistle blew and the Gryffindor team left the sky and huddled on the grass. The rain was sticking to her hair and cloak leaving her chilled to the bone.
"What's going on?" asked Colin.
"I am not sure. Fred and George keep hovering around Harry. They aren't playing like normal."
The team took back to the sky. Harry continued his strange maneuvers as the crowd around her laughed. Didn't they see something was wrong? After watching Fred and George play beater their entire lives she had never seen them crowd the seeker.
"Why are they flying close around Harry?" Colin verbalized Ginny's internal debate.
Harry flew closer to Malfoy chasing after something small and golden. The crowd cheers echoed louder than the rain. It was over. Harry was safe.
Ginny gripped the seat as she watched the bludger to continue to streak towards Harry. Slam, as Harry grabbed the snitch the bludger whacked his arm. Ginny jumped gasping as he descended holding his arm at a strange angle. Her heart was in her throat. He looked so small on his broom clutching his arm to the side. Soon he was lying on the ground when Professor Lockhart walked across the field to him. Ginny's breath returned. Professor Lockhart will help him get to Madam Pomphrey. Ginny turned to Colin but he had vanished.
Climbing down the packed stands she scurried through the celebrating crowd until she spotted Colin at Harry's side snapping pictures. Hermione and Ron were running ahead when Ginny saw Professor Lockhart take out his wand and point it at Harry's arm. Harry looked incredibly annoyed as his arm jiggled in a peculiar way. Amidst the confusion, Hermione and Ron scoop him under his shoulders and walked briskly back towards the castle. The crowd swell rose with excitement for the Slytherin loss and carried Ginny towards the pitch. Colin weaved his way through and found Ginny standing to the side.
"Colin what happened down there?" asked Ginny.
"Pro-professor Lockhart took out Harry's bones!" exclaimed Colin horrified.
"What!" screamed Ginny. Colin shook his head and they turned to walk back towards the castle. They were cold in their wet cloaks.
"I guess Professor Lockhart might just be the hack Harry was saying," said Colin. "Such a shame, I like his stories."
Ginny walked in silence. Worry about Harry and his arm filled her. Would he be permanently damaged? Did it hurt to re-grow bones? The common room was bursting with the excitement of winning their first game of the season and slaughtering Slytherin.
Ginny's escaped to a silent room. Restlessness filled her. She wanted to talk to someone about her fears for Harry before she lost time again. Tom. She could confide in Tom. He would keep her safe. She held her diary close to her chest. She longed for Tom this past week when he wasn't close. She found herself wanting to physically touch the book like an old security blanket of a small child. Autonomously she put the diary on the table and the pages opened to where she had stopped writing.
"Hello Tom," she wrote.
"Hello Ginny, I missed you. Did you have a nice day?"
"Oh, Tom! Harry was hurt." Ginny wrote. "I was so afraid. I noticed early on something was wrong with that bloody bludger. Fred and George fought it off as best they could. It just wasn't enough in the end. What if it hit his head? It would have cracked his skull!"
Ginny paused. Tears she held all afternoon rolled down her face. The fear of being sent away, the terror over Harry descending with one arm, the feelings of isolation from not belonging anywhere consumed her at once.
"It is just so hard. I have been hearing all of my life how Harry is this amazing savior. He defeated You-Know-Who as a baby! But after meeting Harry he is so different than I thought. He isn't confident but quiet. And he is funny! Sometimes I overhear him with Ron and Hermione saying the funniest things in this matter of fact serious way. I doubt he even realizes how funny he is. He was so skinny when he first showed up this summer I thought he was about to break in two. And he has this way of smiling is so different from anyone I have ever seen. His corner mouth smirks upward and he tilts his head to the side. I noticed him doing it when he was losing at chess to Ron one night."
Ginny stopped. She suddenly realized how comforting it felt to confide in Tom and release these feelings. She had been trying to hold her admiration for Harry in since this summer when she humiliated herself by sticking her elbow in the butter dish. Now she could cleanse all of her frustrations.
"Ginny? Are you there? You can keep writing if you like. I think it is admirable you have such kind feelings towards Harry. Do you want to tell me what he thinks about you?" Tom wrote back.
With the floodgates opened, Ginny wrote about how he has never noticed her, how when he talks to her she blushes and loses her voice. How he has this grip over her and invades all of her daydreams. She wrote for so long she missed dinner. That night she fell into a dreamless sleep crouched over her diary on her desk.
She woke the following morning with her back twisted in several knots as she was hunched over her desk using Tom as a pillow. Her arms felt exhausted as if she had been lifting heavy weights all night. A shuddered passed over her body as a cool breeze cut through her sodden clothes. Her mind slowly registered her clothes clinging wet and tight against her form.
How did she get wet if she never left the room? She didn't think she lost time there was no buzzing and constriction. Talking to Tom must have worked! Tom would make everything right again.