Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I write for entertainment purposes only and never for pay.
Author'sNote: My apologies for not getting this our earlier. I have had an extremely busy week with playing chauffeur to my kids' activities and managing my own appointments, so it's a bit behind schedule. I decided to go ahead and get it out today with hopes to continue my Tuesday posting schedule next week. I hope you enjoy and love to hear your comments!
Prisoner 79934: Ginevra Weasley
- A Harry Potter Story -
By: Rae
In the weeks following her parents third visit, Ginny began to really decide which way her stay would go. After a disappointing visit with them in which Molly gasped at her appearance again, Ginny learned nothing had really changed with her case. Her wand was still destroyed, Dumbledore was still fighting the Wizengamot and Minister of Magic, Lucius Malfoy still insisted she be kept in Azkaban longer, and Harry was being held captive by his Muggle relatives. She secretly despised the Muggles who shared Harry's blood for their disgusting prejudice and sometimes sympathized with her companion on her rants about Muggles.
One thing that had changed was her brother Percy. Percy had declined the invitation to visit her again, and when she found out why, Ginny felt ill, even as she congratulated her proud mother. Percy received his school papers and learned he'd been made Head Boy, the second in the family. Molly had rambled on about it for a few minutes before Ron interjected, sharing Percy's disgusting monologue about not being seen in a wizarding prison, even if it was to visit his criminal little sister.
Molly shut up after that.
Arthur had tried to move the conversation along to discuss what they were doing for her, but there was so pitifully little to report that it was clearly just a redirect. Ginny asked again about the mental list of questions she'd rehearsed, refined, and added to, only to get no more than she had last month.
She left the meeting with her family even more disillusioned and disheartened.
Now she was settling in for a long imprisonment. It felt even longer as the other witch continued to insert her opinion about Ginny, her relationship with the Dark Lord, and the probability of her being released anytime in the future.
"No one wants the Heir of Slytherin let loose on society," she whispered one night, just before Ginny fell into a fitful sleep. "And you'll never be allowed to darken the doors of Hogwarts again. You know that, don't you? Why would they let you back in when you opened the Chamber? Ickle firstie with your pitiful dreams." She cackled and then said, "Whatever helps you sleep…"
Ginny had nightmares that night. Nightmares were really nothing new, though. She hadn't had an unbroken night of sleep since arriving at Azkaban. Between the distant shrieks and screams, the residue of horror left behind at each Dementor visit, and her companion's constant scratching, something always woke her up.
It was on one of those nights when she woke up from yet another distant shriek that Ginny broke down.
Tears cascaded down her face as she rocked back and forth in her pallet. The Dementors had left her again with yet another horrid memory of her time with Tom. She'd been dreaming of him coming to rescue her again and suddenly realized there would be no way she could escape this prison. The tears began, and she let them fall unheeding, grieving everything she'd done that landed her in this place.
With the tears came a fury that rose up seemingly out of nowhere. Ginny pounded her fists ineffectually on the stone floor, tears and moans mingling as she both grieved and released her anger. Finally, feeling the swirling emotions creep up her throat, she released an enraged scream, slamming her fists down on the ground as she did so.
After her scream, Ginny calmed down slightly, tears still running down her face as she wrapped her arms around herself to warm up. She continued to rock back and forth and cry silently for a while.
In the dark of the cell as she finally lay down on her pallet, she heard a silky voice say, "Welcome to Azkaban, Ginny Weasley."
Then she fell into a dark, dreamless sleep.
In the days following her break down, Ginny made a few decisions. The first of which was a renewed commitment to her studies, but this time, she decided to ask for help.
"Umm," she began uncertainly. She hated not knowing the other woman's name. Making a snap decision, she said, "If you won't tell me your name, I'm going to just call you something. I'm tired of not knowing what to call you." There was no response. Ginny huffed and said, "Fine. I'm going to call you Lucretia."
The other woman didn't say a word, and Ginny sighed. Feeling frustrated, she started over, "Okay, Lucretia?" She paused, even though she knew she could hear her. "I want to ask a favor."
"It's dangerous to trade favors in here, ickle firstie," the hag behind the wall said with a dark chuckle. "What do you have to offer?"
"Nothing," Ginny replied, irritably. "That's why it's a favor."
When Lucretia said nothing, Ginny clenched her fists and then said, "I want you to teach me."
"What?" It seemed she'd genuinely surprised the other woman.
"I don't want to stay an 'ickle firstie' for three more years," she stated. "I want to know spells and charms that are more advanced. I want to know what I should be learning in Hogwarts for the next three years, and I don't have anyone else to teach me. Will you help me?"
She held her breath in the quiet. It was hard sometimes to have a conversation with Lucretia. She was prone to bouts of rambling and fits of rage, but Ginny hoped today would be a good day.
"I'm not a teacher," she replied finally, her voice flat. It was the least animated Ginny had heard her. She let out the breath she was holding in disappointment.
"I'm not a teacher," she repeated, "but if you promise to practice every spell I teach you, I'll give you an education you won't find anywhere else." Her voice had a sinister quality, and not for the first time, Ginny wondered what she looked like and what expression she had. "Not one complaint. You learn what you learn, and I'll prepare you for whatever comes. Not that you'll ever see the light of day again." A laugh broke through, and Ginny heard the edge of madness.
As the quiet fell around them, Ginny wondered if she'd bit off more than she could chew. She sat in her cell for quite some time thinking about what kind of spells her companion might find suitable for someone her age. She shuddered at the thought that her prison education might be filled with more curses than charms, but then she imagined the twins' faces when she was able to turn their pranks on their heads and smiled slightly. Perhaps a prison education was worth her time and attention, even if Lucretia was a clearly dangerous and perhaps deranged witch.
In the weeks following, Ginny began a rigorous training with Lucretia. She began to learn things she'd never even heard of but things that seemed appropriate for even a young witch to learn. Her eyes were opened to an entirely different education she'd never been privy to.
"This next one is easy," Lucretia was telling her the day after the Dementors visited. "Children in Pureblood homes learn this from a young age. It helps with eavesdropping on your parents, you see. I learned it from my older cousin, and I taught my sisters when they were old enough to learn."
"You have sisters?" Ginny asked, distracted at the thought of her companion's family.
"Yes, now pay attention or you'll miss it." Lucretia's voice grew sharp.
Ginny shook her head, trying to rid it of the images still painted in her brain from the night before. "Can we just take a break?" She asked, longingly. "I can't concentrate."
"You have nothing but time, and you can't focus," the other woman scoffed. "You're worthless, ickle firstie."
"I can't get it out of my mind," Ginny said, more to herself. She fell silent, remembering yet another interaction in her diary with Tom Riddle.
"What?" Lucretia's sharp voice grated on her ears.
"You know," Ginny began, deciding to share her memory with Lucretia, "when I first got here, I dreamed Tom Riddle would come and save me from Azkaban." She paused when Lucretia gave a caustic laugh. "But I got over that after a while. Now it's only when the Dementors come." She drew in a trembling breath as she told Lucretia, "He called me 'the only girl he'd ever tolerated," but he also said that was the highest compliment he could pay me. Can you imagine? Falling for someone who treats you like that?" Ginny allowed a brittle laugh to spill from her lips as tears welled in her eyes.
"No."
Ginny shook her head and said, "Yeah, I know. You'd never fall for someone who said that to you, would you?"
"No." It was more insistent this time, more volatile.
"No what?" Ginny asked.
"There is no way he called you that," Lucretia said in an almost dreamlike voice that bordered on hysterical. "No. Never. No blood traitor could hear those words from the Dark Lord. No." She scratched vigorously at the floor, and Ginny cringed.
"Well, he didn't say it," she finally ventured. "He wrote it in his diary. Or...whatever was in his diary wrote it." She wasn't sure how to word her thoughts, but it was a question she'd had for a while now. What was in the diary? She wasn't able to ponder the question, however, because just then Lucretia let loose a maniacal scream.
Ginny jerked upright from where she'd been laying. Pressing her hands to her ears, she tried to block out the sound of her companion screaming. The shrill sound drilled into her brain and gave her an immediate headache. Ginny hadn't eaten that morning, still overcome by her visit with the Dementors, and she'd had no water to drink, either. She pressed her hands harder against her ears as the screaming just continued.
When she wanted to, Lucretia could scream for hours. Ginny had been subjected to this on a few occasions already, and she wasn't happy to think she'd be stuck listening to it again. She curled up on her bed, clinging to her last threads of sanity as she tried to repeat every hex, curse, and jinx she'd learned the last few weeks in her head.
As abruptly as she began, Lucretia ceased her screaming. Silence descended on the cells, and Ginny quirked an ear to hear if her companion would explain herself.
"He said the same thing to me," she finally said, voice flat and broken from the screaming.
Ginny pondered that as she fell into an uneasy sleep, only broken by the arrival of her dinner that evening. She wondered if perhaps she and Lucretia had more in common than either of them would ever want to admit.
