Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I write for entertainment purposes only.

Author's Note: Apologies for the long wait. I was consumed with a few other stories during all of November (AKA NaNoWriMo), but I hope to get back to writing more of this story shortly.

Prisoner 79934: Ginevra Weasley

By: Rae

-A "Harry Potter" Story-

The Dementors had come again, and she'd screamed herself hoarse, like every other prisoner in this miserable place. Ginny was lying on her pallet trying to recover as she did each time they visited her section of the prison, but she felt listless, exhausted, and so very cold. She knew it was probably October since Dirk had announced another visit with her parents coming very soon, but she wasn't looking forward to it.

It was really just another tick mark on the floor under her mat to count down the months she was locked up. Nothing more.

Her thoughts were bleak, and she lay still, ignoring the sounds around her of the screaming prisoners. She was too busy replaying the memory of Tom the Dementors brought her again. She was too tired even to scowl at the thought of him.

Lucretia was quiet, too. The Dementors had been with her earlier, and she'd screamed and raged and then woken from her misery only to scream some more. Ginny heard her shriek in agony at one point, and she wasn't sure what she'd done. She only knew that after that shriek, the other witch had gone silent, and now it was surprisingly quiet in the prison. She shivered involuntarily as a cold draft raised goosebumps along her flesh.

She should probably be going over the questions she had for her parents again. She needed to know if that Putterglen solicitor had managed to make any progress on her case. She desperately wanted to know if her parents had any clues as to how she'd gotten hold of the diary. That thought had stuck with her for so long now.

Sometimes she wished the Dementor attacks could unlock her memory so she'd revisit the when and where of getting the diary. Somehow they never did.

Instead they showed her yet another memory of her silly self writing to dearest Tom and rambling away about her day and about how she'd spent all of her lunchtime staring at Harry as he ate with Ron and Hermione. She'd been so nervous and naive. Now as she remembered the memory of that moment, she realized that every time she'd tried to unburden herself on Tom, he'd expertly shifted the conversation back to something he was interested in. Usually it was about Harry and who he was and how he acted. Of course, at the time, she'd seen that as his way of trying to relate to her and her little crush. He was showing interest in someone Ginny liked, and she couldn't remember a time when her parents had really sat down with her and listened to her talk about something she liked in detail and actually engaged with her.

Now she knew he'd only been using her. Finding information about Harry so he could eventually drag him down into the Chamber. She shuddered.

How could she have been so foolish?

"C'mon, Heir of Slytherin. Yer parents are here," Dirk said.

Ginny jolted, surprised. She hadn't heard him stomp down the hall like usual. She rolled over and carefully lifted herself off her mat, her muscles protesting. They always clenched up so tightly during a visit with Dementors and took a while to relax into normalcy again. She clambered to her feet and stood back as he muttered the charm that released the bars to her cell. Then she followed him out without a backwards glance.

The whole way to the meeting room she kept her head down, not bothering to look around. If she had, she might have noticed a slightly cracked door at one end of a hallway they traveled down, but she had no interest in catching the eyes of other prisoners.

Dirk walked her into the room and let her seat herself in front of Molly and Arthur. Once she was in her seat, she looked up to see her parents' faces, knowing her own appearance was likely getting worse and worse by the day. It was strange, though, how she no longer felt anxious to try and smooth out her hair to make it easier for them to see her like this. Instead, Ginny felt a deep sense of apathy settle over her, and she simply stared at them, taking in their own appearances.

Arthur's face was lined, and his crows feet had deepened. When had her father gotten so old? Molly's hands were clenched on top of the table, her foot tapping an erratic rhythm underneath. She looked close to tears, as she had every time she'd been there to visit, but there was something else in her eyes as well that caught Ginny's eye. It was a look of desperation that hadn't been there before. She looked at her father and saw it also in the defeated slump of his shoulders and the crumpled posture he wore like ill-fitting clothing.

"What is it? What's wrong?" She asked.

Her father looked at her mother, exchanging a significant glance that wasn't lost on Ginny.

"Ginny, dear," Molly began, "we're so glad to see you. How are you?"

Ginny bit back a retort. She had one chance a month to see her family. She knew better than to waste her opportunities, but still she wished she could unload on her mother all of a sudden.

"I'm fine," she said shortly. Focusing on her dad, she asked again, "What's wrong? What's happened?"

Arthur breathed out a long sigh and squared his slumped shoulders. Ginny knew it was bad. Molly reached over and put her hand on his, and she watched as he turned his hand to grasp hers tightly.

"Well, you see, Ginny," he said, looking askance at his daughter, "it's like this. I wish we had better news, but it seems the Wizengamot has finally managed to review all the materials from the school by-laws and determined that, like Dumbledore said, only the headmaster has the authority to expel a student."

Ginny breathed out a sigh of relief that was arrested when her father held up his other hand to forestall her.

"Unfortunately," he told her, "the Board of Governors has now set about petitioning the Wizengamot to enact what they're calling an Act of Extreme Circumstances. They say there's some precedent for the Ministry to overrule the headmaster in extreme circumstances and that this can be voted on by the Wizengamot to allow Minister Fudge to officially expel you."

His shoulders slumped over once again, and he set his head in his hands, arms resting on the table.

"So that's it, then?" Ginny asked quietly.

"Ginny, dear, we're not giving up," her mother said tremulously, her hands fluttering on top of the table. "We've asked Mr. Putterglen to do everything in his power to fight this, and he's agreed to take the fight to the Wizengamot over this. Headmaster Dumbledore has also shared his plans to try and circumvent this vote they're having, but…" She stopped and looked down at the table.

"But what?" Ginny asked, desperate to hear what was happening outside these stark walls.

Suddenly Molly slammed a fist on the table and looked up with blazing eyes, saying, "Dumbledore has made it clear that his priority is taking care of the students currently attending Hogwarts. He's told us he will see what other research he can do to try and prevent this vote from happening, but he won't make any promises." There was venom in her voice, and she trembled all over. "Putterglen has assured us the previous precedent won't mean much when it comes to a vote, but I haven't heard if he's been able to convince any of the other members to come to our side."

"Molly," Arthur warned in a significant voice, and she subsided, staring back down at the table blankly. He looked at Ginny and said, "We've written letters to every known member of the Wizengamot, and Harry and Hermione have, too."

"Hermione?" Ginny asked, puzzled.

"Well, I think Hermione wants to help because Harry wants to help," he told her gently. "So she's been doing her own research in the library to try to find loopholes and has sent us quite a bit of information she's gathered, actually. Very kind girl that Hermione." His eyes glistened as if remembering something she'd written. "She's helping Harry to write his letters as well, but from all we've heard, nothing has come of it."

He paused for a moment and then looked back at her mother before saying, "Ginny," he began with a voice like glass that could shatter at any moment, "I know we've said we'll do everything we can to see you exonerated, and we will. But," here he drew in a deep breath like a drowning man, "they've set the date for the Wizengamot's hearing and vote for next week. We've tried to stall them, but Lucius Malfoy has too much influence and has demanded it go through with the backing of the Board of Governors. He's argued that it's taken too much time already to finalize the ruling against you and is cutting into both Ministry time and school time since many of your professors have also written their own letters to try and help you."

"They have?" Ginny asked, surprised in spite of herself. She didn't think any of her professors had even noticed her.

"Oh yes," her mother said now, meeting her eyes. "Professor McGonagal has been writing several letters on your behalf. So have Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch."

She mulled that over for a moment before what her father said really sunk in.

"So this is it," she said again in a mirror of her earlier statement. "They're going to vote next week and I'll be expelled for real this time."

"Ginny," Arthur said softly, his voice sad.

"Time's up," Dirk announced, shifting away from his position near the wall. Molly shot him a dirty look, but Ginny just stood up and turned away from her parents.

She walked with him to the door and didn't turn back this time, even when her father's voice broke as he cried out, "Ginny, we'll keep fighting! We won't stop! We love yo–!"

The door shut with a bang of finality.