Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I do not write fanfiction to sell or for profit. I write for entertainment purposes only.

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter. I hope you'll enjoy this visit with her family. This story deliberately starts off slowly to build the anticipation as Ginny begins her journey to learn just exactly how she acquired the diary of Tom Riddle. We'll see it progress soon enough to something a bit more dangerous, so hang in there! Please leave a review if you like what you read, and thanks for staying with me!

Prisoner 79934: Ginevra Weasley

- A Harry Potter Story -

By: Rae

After their altercation about Tom and Ginny's tears, she kept quiet, avoiding any interaction with the other woman. Ginny turned her words over and over in her mind, wondering who the woman meant and concluding she must be talking about He Who Must Not Be Named. But if that was the case, then she must have been one of his followers, and if that was true, Ginny shouldn't have anything to do with her.

She spent the next days until her family's visit wondering if she should just ignore the other woman. A few times, the hag behind the wall tried to get her attention, but Ginny refused to bite, still nettled over her dismissal and mockery. Even so, Ginny had to admit things got very mentally exhausting the longer she had no contact with other people, and Dirk wasn't the best of companions, always dropping off food or leading the Dementors to her cell and then hightailing it out to his regular patrol.

She still hadn't come to a decision when Dirk announced one morning, "Your family will be here today. I'll come get you when they get here, and you'll have one hour." Shoving her food through the cell walls, he stomped off down the hall.

"Ickle firstie gets to see her parents," said the hag behind the wall in a sing-song tone of voice. "Wee Weasley will talk to the poor parents who couldn't care for her or teach her good behavior." She snickered.

Ginny ground her teeth together and tried to ignore her, deciding to go through her memorized list of questions for her parents.

"Won't they be proud to know you've made a friend here?" The other woman taunted now, chuckling to herself. "Found you another follower of dear Tom you can talk to and relate to. I'm sure Molly will love that." Her chuckles turned to laughter at that.

Ginny was whispering the questions to herself now, refusing to rise to the bait. What about the words on the wall? Will I be expelled? Has my wand already been snapped?

"You haven't been talking to me, but I know you're listening," the woman suddenly said, her voice softer, more malicious. "So since you can hear me, here's some questions you should ask your dear parents." The last words twisted on a hiss. "Perhaps you should ask them how you got that diary and who they think could still have such a precious artefact of the Dark Lord that isn't in here right now. What follower in his right mind would be willing to part with such an important dark item and especially put it in the hands of an impressionable young child?" Her voice trailed off speculatively, and Ginny gasped softly.

"How much do you know?" She asked her, finally breaking her silence.

"Enough," the hag behind the wall said shortly. "Guards talk, and even though you're in a solitary corridor, the rest of the prison, well, prisoners talk and word gets around. Did you know there's another person in here because of what happened in the Chamber of Secrets?"

"No!" Ginny was shocked. How did she not know about this? The other woman had her full attention now.

"I heard he was your professor," she said, scoffing at the thought. "Must've gone down to rescue you and got blasted by a curse. They say when he was rescued Lockhart was screaming obscenities and tried to curse one of the other professors before telling everyone who would listen all about his lies and theft." She paused and then added, "You probably didn't know that Lockhart stole all his material for his books from other wizards and witches, took credit for their work and then Obliviated them. He's in the secure ward," she stated with a snort. "Not that he needs to be, the quack. Raving like a true lunatic before the Dementors even got to him."

Ginny was speechless. "But that's not at all what happened," she stammered. "He tried to Obliviate Harry and Ron when they came to rescue me, and it backfired on him."

"Hmm," said the other woman thoughtfully, "well, in here, you never can tell what the truth is, but Lockhart was a fool when we were in school, and he's a fool now. No matter. He's here, you're here, we're all here together. Best get used to it, girl."

Ginny clenched her teeth still reeling from what the hag behind the wall had told her and finally said, "I don't know how I got the diary, and I don't think my parents know either. No one does."

Her mind had wandered to the place she'd been consumed with since being thrown in Azkaban: where she'd obtained the diary in the first place. It was probably the most important thing to figure out so she could find a way out of here, yet Ginny had no recollection of having picked it up at all.

The other woman interrupted her thoughts and asked her, "Are you sure no one knows? You can't have just found it by magic. No one would leave something like that lying around, especially if he knew what it was for."

"What it was for…?" Ginny asked, intrigued despite herself.

"I cannot betray the Dark Lord," the woman suddenly barked, voice heavier, almost desperate with some emotion Ginny couldn't define. "I will never betray him!" Her voice rose into a near scream, and before Ginny could respond, she was suddenly cackling loudly, scratching with some strange frenzy at the ground. Ginny could hear the sounds of nails raking against the concrete and shuddered.

It was then that the door opened to the hall and she heard Dirk's footsteps approaching. So, it seemed, did the other woman, for she quieted considerably. The only thing Ginny heard from her as he approached her cell was the sound of quiet laughter mingled with sobs and the constant scratching at the floor.

"Time to go, Slytherin's Heir," Dirk said nonchalantly, gesturing her away from the cell door so he could magic it away. She obediently followed him through the halls till they were outside the room she would meet her parents. The trip there was less terrifying, perhaps because she was becoming immune to the sounds of Azkaban, and Ginny found herself suddenly nervous about seeing her parents again.

She had no time to reflect on her nerves, however, before Dirk was opening the door and ushering her inside. She walked straight to the chair opposite her family as he sauntered over to his seat in the corner. As she sat down, Ginny heard her mother gasp in horror.

"Ginny, dear, are you okay?" Her alarm caused Ginny to look up at her family in surprise.

Seeing their faces, she wondered how she looked. Molly's jaw was agape, staring at her as if seeing a ghost. Arthur's normally pale skin was even whiter than usual, his eyes studying her every move. Her brothers stared at her as well, Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Fred and George gave her sympathetic glances, looking back and forth from her to her mom.

"Do you not let the prisoners bathe?" Arthur suddenly asked, directing the question not to Ginny but to Dirk. His expression was grim.

Dirk shrugged. "We can Scourgify her if you want us to before your next visit," he told Arthur, "but most prisoners don't get visitors. Baths aren't for them." He stared at Arthur without flinching even as the other man glared back at him.

Ginny realized now why her family must be so shocked. She glanced down her front at the oversized, tattered prison uniform. It had a number of unknown stains on it she didn't want to think about. Putting a hand up to her hair, she wondered if her hair was as oily looking as it felt. She slumped into her seat as Dirk added to his comments.

"You best just enjoy your time and don't dwell on 'er looks," he said matter-of-factly. "Personally she looks better'n most of our prisoners, and nothing will help the longer she's 'ere."

"Mum, Dad, it's okay," she murmured, staring at her lap uncomfortably. "Can we talk about something else, please?"

"Of course, dear," Molly said quickly, and Ginny glanced up in time to see her swiftly run the back of her hand across her eyes to banish the tears that had formed. "How are you, Ginny, dear? We've all been so worried about you. Are you getting our letters?" At that, she raised a glare to Dirk, sitting quietly in his corner.

"No mail to prisoners in the first six months," he replied stoically. "Gives 'em too much hope. We'll give her it when she's been in seven months."

Molly clenched her fists, and Arthur reached over to place a soothing hand on hers. "Meetin' any of the other prisoners, sis?" Fred asked energetically. It fell a bit flat in the tense atmosphere that had built up.

"Betcha there's so many other prisoners near her she'll have a dozen tales to rival ours, eh, Fred?" George added with a too-wide grin.

"Don't be ridiculous," Molly said before Ginny could speak. "Ginny's been placed in her own special section of the prison where no one can disturb her. They said it's because she's too young to be in the general population. Isn't that right, dear?" Her question ended on a tremulously high note as if trying to reassure herself of Ginny's safety in the wizarding prison.

Ginny withheld a grimace at the thought that the prisoners weren't the most dangerous thing there. After her last bout with the Dementors, she'd been desperate for an escape. Breathing in and out slowly, she replied, "Yes, Mum, that's right. I actually had a couple of questions I wanted to ask you now that you're here." She spoke quickly to avoid answering any more about the other prisoners. "Have you heard anything from Headmaster Dumbledore about being expelled? Have they already broken my wand?" Her voice broke at the last question.

Her family exchanged pained glances, and Ginny drew in a breath, trying not to get her hopes up.

"Well, you see, Gin, it's like this," her dad began, and she knew it was bad. "The Wizengamot went ahead and requested your wand be destroyed. There was nothing we could do to delay the process, so, I'm sorry, but it's been broken." His eyes pleaded with her for understanding, but Ginny wasn't paying attention.

She remembered the day she'd gotten her wand. It was the only wand that wasn't passed down from one of her brothers. Her parents gifted her a wand that belonged to her great-aunt, not Great-Aunt Muriel, obviously, but another great-aunt who died before she was born. Even though it wasn't a perfect fit when she received it, it was still a comfort in her hands, and she'd grown used to the feel of it and the magic she produced with it.

Coming back to the present as she heard her mother ask if she was okay, Ginny nodded slowly, trying not to cry. "It was a good wand," she said softly. "It made some great Bat Bogey Hexes."

"Sure did, sis," George said softly, his eyes on hers.

"When you get out, we'll get you a new wand," Fred added, looking sad.

"They won't let you, will they?" Ron asked. Fred elbowed him in the ribs, and George reached behind Fred to slap him in the back of the head. "What?" Ron exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head. "It's true, innit?"

"Well, what about being expelled?" Ginny asked, hoping to stop her mother from lecturing her brothers. Molly had the expression she wore when she was gearing up for a good, long rant.

Arthur smiled a bit at her and said, "Well, we don't really have good news, but we also don't have bad news. Headmaster Dumbledore has told us he's been stalled by the Wizengamot on some trumped up charge that they need to examine the by-laws of Hogwarts to determine if there's some reason that only the Headmaster can expel students. So for now, you're safe, but if Lucius Malfoy had his way, you'd have been expelled already." His face fell and he snarled a bit at the mention of the other man.

Ginny nodded, a bit disheartened by the thought. She ran through the other questions on her mental list and decided to start with the one that had plagued her the longest. "So," she started, "have you been able to figure out how I got the diary?"

Her parents exchanged glances this time, and Ginny wondered what that meant.

"Well, Ginny, dear, you see, your father has been kept so busy at work we haven't had much chance to work on figuring that out," Molly explained. She sighed and drew in a breath and then continued, "But you know, we've talked to Harry, and he seems to think there's no way you just found that diary on your own."

"I didn't!"

"And," Molly said, ignoring the outburst, "we believe him. He says it was someone who doesn't like your father, but we aren't so sure about that, so we aren't going to pursue that until we have more proof."

"Who?" Ginny asked, wondering what Harry might know. She felt a slight flutter at his name but wasn't going to ask about him until she got her questions answered.

"It doesn't matter," Arthur said with an arch look at Molly, who glared at him. "What matters is that we're going to do everything we can to prove you shouldn't be here. And that starts with making sure you don't get expelled. Headmaster Dumbledore will make sure you aren't expelled, so while you're here, maybe you should try to keep up with your studies as well as you can."

"Arthur," Molly hissed. He ignored her as he looked steadily at Ginny, who felt confused by the exchange.

"Harry misses you," Ron suddenly blurted out. Ginny turned to him and nodded. "He's been writing as much as he can, but the Muggles keep him locked down as much as they can, y'know."

"Right," Ginny replied flatly, suddenly not sure how much longer she wanted to spend with her family. She thought back over the questions she'd been memorizing and decided to quickly go through them and see what her parents could tell her. "So, about the trial, I-"

"Ginny, we want you to know that we're doing everything, absolutely everything, to get you out of here," her mother interrupted her. "Your father's entered every lottery the Ministry's opened up so that we might be able to find you some good help. Barrows is good, but…" She trailed off, wringing her hands together as Arthur shot her a look.

"What your mother means, Ginny," he said, "is that Doyle Barrows is the representative trying to help us come up with some reason to overturn the ruling, but it seems he's been stopped at every try by Lucius Malfoy, among others." His face fell into a dark mask, and he stared at her somberly. "I'm so sorry, Ginny, but you might be here a while longer." His voice broke a bit at that, and his shoulders slumped.

"Gin, don't worry about anything. We're going to help find any evidence to get you out of here," Fred said with a bracing grin, reaching over to lightly squeeze his father's shoulders.

"Right you are, Gred," said George. "We won't let you rot away in here. We'll figure it out and get you out of here soon." He, too, reached over and put an arm out to touch their father.

Ginny sighed softly, looking from face to face and began to give her line of questions once more. "I've been thinking," she started, "and thought of some things that don't make sense and might help with the case." Her parents met her gaze steadily but betrayed nothing. "Why is Professor Lockhart in Azkaban? Where did I find the diary? I really don't remember. What about the writing on the wall about me being in the chamber forever?" Her mother flinched at that. "And why doesn't anyone believe Harry? He was down in the chamber with me. They should listen to him."

Her parents sighed. Before either could say anything, though, Dirk stood up. "Time's up," he announced and stepped toward her.

Ginny stood up as well, glancing at each of her family members so as to get that one last look. Dirk led her to the door, and she turned back one last time to see her parents standing together.

Instead of last words, this time there was silence and a lingering sense of uncertainty as Dirk pulled her arm to move her through the open door. The last thing she saw was her father putting his arm around her mother, whose hands were wringing as she mumbled something Ginny couldn't quite make out.

Then the door shut again.