Ginny Weasley came to on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. The cold, wet stone was sucking away every bit of warmth she'd ever felt in her life. She didn't bother to open her eyes.

A voice that sounded like Harry's said, "Ginny, wake up. It's over. Please be okay."

For Circe's sake, just let me fucking die already, she thought.

She had nothing left: no strength to fight, no hope of anyone coming for her, and sure as hell no patience for Riddle's cruel mind games. All she had was her rage at his betrayal, for all the good it would do her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and her eyes flew open as she let out a gasp.

Harry was leaning over her, his brows drawn together in concern.

"Harry? You're here? It's really you?" She laid her hand over his–tentatively at first, then gripping his fingers like a lifeline.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze in return. "It's me. Everything is okay now. The Basilisk's dead." He gestured, and she turned her head to see the giant snake lying motionless. "The diary is… dead too, I guess."

"Dead? How? Wait. Before you explain, I need to tell you something. It was me. I let the Basilisk out. I didn't want to, but–"

"I know. It wasn't your fault. You're free now. The tunnel caved in, but Ron's working on clearing a path. Can you walk?"

"Maybe. I think so." With an effort, she managed to sit up. "I might need to lean on you a little."

He shook his head. "Sorry, don't think that's happening." He held up his arm to reveal a nasty wound. "I got bit. You'll have to make your way without me. I can feel the venom starting–" His eyelids drooped, and he collapsed to the floor.

"Harry!" she cried, shaking him. "Harry, no!"

He didn't stir.

The diary lay next to him. She pounded it in frustration, then winced and shook her hand. She needed to learn to control her temper, or get a harder hand. And find a better target for her anger, like Tom Riddle's stupid face.

She shook her head. This wasn't helping Harry.

She looked around the Chamber. A large bird with brilliant red and gold plumage sat watching her from a short distance away. A phoenix! That meant phoenix tears.

"Hey. Come over here, uh, birdie." This had to be Dumbledore's famous phoenix, but she couldn't remember its name. She crawled towards it. "Who's a good bird?"

The phoenix peered at her as she advanced on it, tilting its head back and forth. As she reached for it, it flapped its wings and hopped back out of reach.

Ginny grimaced, but forced herself to keep her tone soothing. "Come on, sweetie. Just hold still. Just need some tears." Muttering to herself, she added, "Even if I have to wring your neck like a chicken to get them."

The phoenix squawked and retreated further.

Great. The damn thing understands English.

She dropped the pleading tone. "Look, we've gotten off to a bad start here. Not to say it can't get worse, mind you. See, I made a friend this year. He acted like one at first anyway, but never mind that. The point is, he gave me lots of good advice. For his own purposes, as it turns out, but good advice all the same."

The phoenix sat motionless as it regarded her.

"He taught me the secret to dealing with both people and creatures. You have to find out what they want and what they fear. There's always something. The fact you can rise from your own ashes makes threatening you tricky. Tricky, but not impossible." She paused for a beat. "Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

The phoenix flared its wings and shrieked at her.

"Ah, good. That'll save me the trouble of explaining. It strikes me that a phoenix might make a suitable vessel, and I swear, if you don't help him–"

The phoenix let out another piercing cry. With several quick steps and a flap of its wings, it launched itself at her.

Before she could even reach for her wand, the bird grabbed her in its talons, and with a flash of flame and a jolt of dislocation, she found herself in a different part of the Chamber.

With two more bursts of flame, the phoenix left her and reappeared at Harry's side.

Ginny shook her head to clear it. Phoenix fire packed a serious magical punch.

She watched the bird tilt its head and crane its neck over Harry.

Harry stirred, and Ginny felt herself breathe again. "Harry? Are you okay?"

"Ginny?" he answered in a weak voice. "What are you doing over there?"

Before she could answer, there was another flash of fire, and Harry and the phoenix were gone.

Ginny slumped to the floor in relief. The stone was still aggressively cold, but the feeling was distant now. Harry was safe. She hadn't gotten him killed. Or anyone else, as far as she knew. She was content to lie on the floor and wait for the phoenix to return for her.

And so she waited. And then waited some more. She'd had a long day, and was running low on patience, but instantaneous magical travel should not take this long.

"Was it something I said?" she called out to the empty Chamber.

Getting out under her own power was too exhausting to even think about. It would be so much easier to just stay where she was, cold floor or not.

What had Riddle made her write on the wall? She'd been pretty out of it by then, but she remembered something about her skeleton lying down here forever. Would that be so bad? No more feeling cold or tired. No more fighting. Never having to face everyone she put in danger, or let down by being stupid and helpless and pathetic. Nothing but rest. Easy. Peaceful.

She sat up. No. Fuck that. If she died here, now, she'd never be anything but stupid and weak. That couldn't be the end of the story.

Harry had come to save her, and nearly died for his trouble. She wasn't worthy of that–not yet. But she could become someone worth saving. She could make everything he went through worth it.

Riddle had been obsessed with Harry. Knowing everything she did about Tom Riddle, what were the chances he was actually gone for good this time? Not great. And if he did return, he'd be coming after Harry for sure.

She'd given up, but Harry had come to save her. She couldn't imagine Harry ever giving up, but she could imagine him walking into a fight he had no chance of winning. When that happened, she would find a way to save him, and then everything they'd both gone through this year would make sense. It would have a reason.

The idea wasn't totally crazy. She knew things; useful things. Her memory was hazy about what she'd done when Riddle was controlling her, especially towards the end, but their relationship hadn't started out like that. She remembered how it started with him playing the role of friend and mentor.

He'd given her those lessons to make her a better tool, a better wand for him to wield. But now she was free. Now the wand he had crafted could turn and point back at him. He had no idea what he'd set in motion, but he would learn. One day, she would teach him a lesson about magic.

Magic. Right. She was a witch, wasn't she? There was no reason for her to try to crawl out of here like a sick animal, and certainly no reason to just give up and die.

Okay. Phoenix travel was apparently out. She didn't know how to Apparate, or create a Portkey. What else? The cold made it hard to think, but there had to be a way. She couldn't picture Tom Riddle crawling through the pipes every time he came down here, back in his own student days. He'd consider it beneath him. Come to think of it, how had she done it? She couldn't remember.

The light down here must be coming from somewhere. It flickered like fire. Gubraithian fire, maybe? She should be able to sense its source. She'd sure as hell sensed it when the damn phoenix went off in her face. If she could find it, she'd be able to warm up long enough to figure out her next step.

Ginny had always had an affinity for fire, from her earliest flashes of accidental magic. She smirked, thinking of the times her mum had discovered her fires and blamed the twins' experiments, but her mind shied away from thoughts of her family. She didn't want to dwell on how they'd react to seeing her again after everything she'd done.

Her natural affinity for the element should be stronger now, with the techniques Tom had taught her. When she wrote in the diary about feeling tired and muddled and unable to keep up in class, Tom responded by teaching her shortcuts. He always knew ways of doing more with less effort, ways of cheating the system.

His methods required developing a greater feeling for the magic all around you. He'd warned her first-years were never taught this, and for good reason. Until your own magic matured, opening yourself to other sources of it could have unpredictable effects on your magical development.

He'd acted reluctant, but she'd been so excited about learning powerful secrets from her new friend, she'd practically begged him to teach her.

Of course, his concern for her had reached no further than her usefulness to his plans, but he made it seem like he was the one doing her a favor. She could see how he'd recruited all those followers over the years.

Focus, Ginny, she told herself. For Tom Riddle to get what's coming to him, first you have to get out of here.

She opened herself to the ambient magic by a cautious sliver, searching for that particular something she associated with fire. She didn't use feeling or taste or smell, but a faculty whose shape reminded her of those other senses.

Nothing. Damn.

After taking a minute to work up her nerve, she opened herself more than she'd ever done before. She never would have dared this around other magic users, but down here by herself, the risk was small.

This time, she succeeded. She brushed against the essence of fire, but it felt weak. Far away? No… faint, but in every direction. It had to be the heat in the air, what little there was of it.

Could she use that? Harry had come to rescue her, and would surely come back for her as soon as he could. He'd also said Ron was trying to get to her. She just needed to keep from freezing to death long enough for someone to show up.

Ginny abandoned her caution and reached, until she felt her magic and the weak essence of fire all around her merge into one connected flow. She began to draw the fire into herself.

As the welcome warmth poured into her, she heard the distinctive whoosh of a phoenix appearing right on top of her.

She didn't have time to scream before all that she was burst into flame.