Before we started I wanted to clear up a few things.

WARNINGS:

If you feel that you don't need them, then skip to the start of the chapter because they are spoilers.

For those who do want warnings, this story contains (in no particular order):

Physical and mental abuse, very graphic/intimate sexual content, rape, violence, extreme language (swearing and the like), negative alcohol use, and perhaps a few other things that I can't think of at the moment.

Also, it would be safe to mention that this is a very dark and angsty story; it touches on some mental health issues.

DISCLAIMER:

I sadly do not own any rights to the Harry Potter franchise (Unless my name is J.K. Rowling ... which is not!)This is done purely for fun, not profit.

SPECIAL THANKS:

I want to thank those who were patient enough to bear my craziness. I'm grateful for your support, it means a lot to me. If at any time you have questions, please feel free to shoot me a review.

Enjoy Reading!

VENOMOUS CURE

Chapter 1: A Midnight Discovery

The day of Fred's funeral started as a wonderful shiny Friday morning and several wizards and witches, some of them wearing almost identical formal robes, the other younger ones clothed in ordinary muggle garments were scattered here and there around the property of the Weasley's garden to attend the service and spend time with the grieving family.

The air was sweet with the scent of the blooming wildflowers that dotted the sloping lawns. The place was green, very green and bursting with sweet-smelling flowers and plants that Mrs Weasley had taken to growing as a hobby. The trees were just shedding their blossoms as new leaves took their place, the fallen petals swirling like snow around the bunch of chatting people.

It was a picturesque day, the Burrow was calm and peaceful, and the family, along with their friends, gathered around the small Weasley graveyard up above the hill that was within short walking distance from the house. There was a short prayer then everyone took turns to tell a joke or share a memory. As the service drew to an end, George and Charlie surprised everyone with some booming fireworks spectacle. Then everyone started retreating to the Burrow garden commenting on the show. The light breeze carried the sounds of chatting in the Summer air and Ron thought that it couldn't be any more fitting, it was as if Fred wanted to bid them a last happy goodbye in his own way. George said that of course, his twin wouldn't settle for the gloomy rain in his bloody funeral and that everyone should be having some fun instead of all the grief.

One by one the visitors who came to pay their respects started leaving. Only the family members and their close friends remained. They gathered in the garden around a long dining table that was conjured for the occasion, it was full to the brim with the food that was brought by many friends but few of the people who were sitting attempted to eat anything. Fleur and Hermione resorted to storing it away in the kitchen fridge so it wouldn't be spoiled.

Ginny Weasley was standing by the lake staring into space. She bent down to lie under the ancient family tree adjusting her back to its huge trunk. She looked up into the sky clouded over with the tree's entangled twists, bright sunny streaks stole their way through warming up the redhead's bare legs. The sounds of the people gathering around the table never reached her ears, and she glanced in their way.

Her mother and father were holding hands, silently. George was looking like he wanted to blow something up. Ron, Harry and Hermione were huddled together a little bit at the far end of the table, taking turns crying quietly. Bill and Charlie were fighting it, Ginny could tell. Their mouths twitched at the corners. Percy had his head in his hands, and he was probably thinking about how guilty he felt. Fleur just walked inside the house, probably to cry in privacy and pretend that she didn't, or that it was due to her pregnancy hormones.

Ginny pondered how she felt. She felt sad, absolutely. But at the same time, she felt like Fred had stolen her wish. She was the one who was supposed to die. She longed for the peace of death almost her entire life after all. She knew she was being incredulous but if she was unable to end her own pathetic life, wouldn't it have been great if she was the one dead instead? She remembered how she came too close to fulfilling her long-awaited wish when she confronted Bellatrix Lestrange. Her mother had seen to take that away from her that day.

Ginny was lost in her dark thoughts when she felt as though someone was raining butterfly kisses on her legs. She moved her legs slowly and gazed down as she noticed some strange feeble movement under her leg. It was a butterfly, and it was fighting its way up Ginny's leg. Instantly, the girl reached out and pulled the poor creature helping it to a temporary station on her skin. Ginny kept gazing at the tiny butterfly for a moment then murmured an inaudible, "Hi. "

She watched as the colourful wings moved lightly, taking off the redhead's leg slightly and then landing down again as if attempting to greet her back. The lovely butterfly rested for a little more and then took off flying wildly into the Summer air.

"Ginny?" came a dreamy voice.

The young witch turned her head following the direction of the voice. A girl with soft blond wavy hair approached the family's wooden table. Ginny watched as Luna stopped to greet them and knew that her blond friend was looking for her when her mother reached out with her arm pointing her index in Ginny's direction indicating her location.

"I'm here Luna," called out Ginny waving at her.

Luna waved back as well, thanked the weasley matriarch and murmured something about seeing them later then headed down to the old tree.

"There you are," said Luna in that Lunish voice of hers, "I was looking for you, I headed inside at first, but Fleur said that you were still gathered outside."

"Yeah, it's such a wonderful day to waste it indoors," replied Ginny matter-of-factly.

Luna observed her red-haired friend for a bit and then lowered herself next to her on the ground.

"I take it last night wasn't easy, then?" Luna asked gently. Ginny just shrugged and Luna added, "I suppose you're right, it's so peaceful down here, except for the dreadful sounds of frogs and bugs," smiled Luna widely.

Ginny jerked her head to her blonde friend and smiled, "You always do that."

"What?"

"You know, pretending like everything is all sunshine and rainbows when the situation is gloomy." Ginny said, " It's a good strategy but I don't think I have the energy to put an act and keep the pretences. Not today."

"Well, better keep pretending until everything in your life becomes wonderful- ." Luna started to explain but Ginny cut her off,

"As if I have another choice..." Ginny whispered brokenly. She looked at her friend and added, " I'm sorry Luna but I feel like I want to murder someone. Too bad I'm far too cowardly to take my own life."

"Please don't keep saying that. I know you're probably..." Luna stopped talking suddenly.

Ginny looked at her, "What?"

"I can't find a word to describe the state you must be in, Ginny. I'm sorry." Luna said her face was all serious it made Ginny smile. It was her first real smile that day.

"I guess it depends. Most nights are bearable but other ones are just..." Ginny said.

" I can imagine being this close to him is triggering more violence," Luna stated, "I'm always here for you, Ginny."

A comfortable silence fell upon them as they watched the sun making its departing journey for a bit. This sunset was special as it was marking the end of the day they bid farewell to her brother. But Ginny couldn't help thinking that the end of the sun's journey and the beginning of it elsewhere meant that nothing would ever just stop for a second and let her take a breath. Even if her loved ones died, even if she died, that stupid cosmic dance in which the sun gently passes over its luminous spear to the moon and casts its warm rays elsewhere would never stop.

Ginny was too deep in her thoughts she barely noticed Neville as he joined them. He left briefly an hour or so ago to take his grandmother home.

"Sorry I'm late," Neville took a seat at the wooden swing attached to one of the big tree branches, "I instructed the house elf to take care of my grandmother's bed routine for the night."

"You will be staying with me then?" Ginny asked and couldn't keep the hopeful tone out of her voice.

Hermione was still staying up in the attic with the boys. It was odd, but those three were practically joined by the hip. Although, if Ginny knew her mother at all, Hermione will return to share Ginny's bedroom in no time. Luna, as much as she stays well into the night, never spends the entire evening at Ginny's because her father says they already living close by, but she guessed he didn't like the idea of Luna being away after what happened and she couldn't blame him for that.

"Sure, but what about your family?" Neville demanded.

"I don't think my mother would mind, she's too fond of you."

"What about Dean? Won't he be jealous or something?" Neville asked thoughtfully.

Ginny's face fell and didn't reply right away. Her friends turned to look at her questionably.

"Well, we kind of broke up." Ginny quietly announced.

Both of her friends stared at her, Neville's eyes widened and Luna blurted a loud "What!?"

"It isn't like we didn't expect it. Who would want to be with someone like me?" Ginny said matter-of-factly. Luna looked like she wanted to say something to that but Ginny waved her off and Neville, although hiding it, was angry. He looked away and wouldn't meet her eyes.

One week after the funerals were over, Harry knew he would have to leave the Burrow. Its crooked corners, which he had once thought quaint, now seemed sinister as if dark secrets festered around each room.

Ron, of course, didn't understand. He kept acting as if he had no idea of the part Harry played in Fred's death. Well, not only Fred's death, Harry would say. But then, Harry just expected him to finally do, someday, eventually.

"What do you mean? I thought you liked it here?" With an irritated shake of the daily prophet, Ron stared at him over the rim of his coffee mug.

Harry lowered his head in a mute and miserable silence. He couldn't meet his friend's eyes and he couldn't explain. Guilt ate away at him every single day and he felt things had changed, getting more and more terrible and strange. Every day, the odour grew stronger, and now its sickly scent permeates the whole house.

A few days ago, he had stood, his nostrils flaring, trying to identify its source.

"Are you getting a cold?" Ron had said.

"Can't you smell it?"

"Smell what?" He had looked at him, his eyebrows raised.

Harry had clamped his lips together, fighting the urge to scream.

It wasn't just the strange odours that only Harry could smell, but also the dead bodies appearing randomly at any given moment, sitting at the dining table or lounging in the living room and smiling at him. Hermione said they were illusions. Well, it would be fitting.. the boy who lived going nuts after everything, wouldn't it?

Fuming, he began to drink his coffee in a silent sort of irritability, perfectly ignoring Ron's confused gaze.

Harry turned away, staring out of the window at the maze of trees that seemed to have a single purpose. They all lead to the graveyard on the hill: the place where Fred was buried.

Dean walked to Ginny's side, gave her his arm, shut the kitchen door, and they walked together to a nearby bench in the garden. Ginny sighed as she sat down, resting herself against the back of the seat, her cool fingertips seeking out the warmth of Dean's hand.

They sat quietly, Ginny with her eyes closed, letting the sun shine through the paper-thin skin of her eyelids.

"What can you see?" Dean asked her.

"Pink."

"How do you feel?"

"Fine," Ginny said, "Really, fine. I'm just a bit tired, you know."

"Yeah. You don't think we should be doing this, do you?" Dean leaned over and kissed her on the side of her cheek, "You don't think there's any point."

She opened her eyes. "Do you?"

Dean smiled and shook his head.

"Just stubbornness, on my part, I think," Ginny muttered. "I just wanted to see it through to the end."

"Remember that time," Dean said, "when I asked you, if a death eater showed up at Hogwarts and was hurtling toward you, would you get out of the way?"

Ginny laughed quietly, "And I said, No. I've got the right to fight."

Dean smiled at the memory, "You are stubborn."

"We've had some arguments."

"More than some." He checked his watch.

"How long have we got?"

"Plenty."

"I'm not quick on my feet at the moment. Not like I used to be."

"I'll give you a head start."

Ginny sat enjoying the sun for a while longer, and then she said, "Put your arm around me."

"Cold?"

"No. Well, a bit, maybe."

"Ok."

He wrapped his arm around Ginny's thin shoulders, pulled her closer, and fixed her woollen hat closer around her head. "That better?"

"Mmm." Ginny rested her head on Dean's shoulder. "I never thought it'd be like this," she stated. Then she added, "It feels weird."

"Does it?"

"He's already blaming himself, you know."

"So you keep telling me."

Then he asked, "What are you going to do? without me?"

"Don't keep saying that."

"I'll miss you. And I'm sorry."

Ginny stayed quiet, biting her lip a little, willing away the tears. "Don't. Please don't apologise."

"But I'm sorry. Really. For leaving."

"I haven't always been kind to you. I've been demanding."

"It's alright."

"It wasn't your fault, Dean."

"I... I know."

Ginny shifted to get comfortable and pushed closer to Dean. "You'll send letters? Keep in contact?"

"Every day. Yes."

"Liar." Ginny shuddered. A long sigh.

Dean pulled her a little closer and said, "Maybe I should get you a cell phone. It's cruel not to have at least one in the house. Won't need the extra money if you're not spending it all on stupid quidditch toys and honeydukes sugar quills." He laughed to himself. "Maybe I will even buy one for your dad, you know."

Ginny relaxed in his arms, her head a soft weight, eyes closed, her face gently creased against his shoulder. Dean straightened the edge of her hat again, tender. His face settled into sad lines, and his breath came a bit harsh. "You are asleep, then?" he asked, voice soft.

Then he sat for a while, staring ahead.

After a few minutes, he moved to let Ginny lie down on her side, pulled her legs up onto the bench, knees bent, arranged her body neatly, patted her clothes straight and rested her face on a pillow he conjured. He stood back, looking down at her, and his brow knitted, his mouth formed a silent smiling line. "It wasn't your fault either, you know. I hope you find peace, Ginny."

And he knelt on the ground beside her, fingertips touching her face, his silent tears falling onto Ginny's warm skin.

Hermione was trying to levitate a sleeping Ginny to the couch because it was getting a bit chilly outside.

"Has Dean left, then?" Ron inquired in a distracted voice.

"Well, I found her asleep on the garden bench. No Dean," Hermione carefully and skillfully manoeuvred Ginny through the living room archway. "Where is Harry?"

Ron just responded with a deep sigh, then glared at her.

"What?"

"He said he wanted to look for an apartment."

"WHAT?!" Hermione hissed, almost dropping Ginny to the floor. She startled awake.

"What's going on?" Ginny questioned in confusion, still half asleep.

"Nothing, just Harry being impossibly stubborn again." Hermione huffed, her face falling into a deep frown.

"What did he do now?"

"He wants to look for an apartment," Ron responded, munching an apple audibly, "He really can be a bloody git sometimes."

"Ginny, let's talk in your room."

The two witches continued upstairs to Ginny's room. Hermione closed the door behind them and lazily took a seat by the tiny desk. Ginny sat on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest. She sighed and looked at Hermione.

"What do you think?" stated Hermione in a worried tone.

"Well, he's free to do as he wants, of course.."

"But Ginny," Hermione hurried to say, "he's not doing well, can't you tell?"

"I know, he thinks it's his fault that Fred.. died," Ginny whispered sadly. "The pain in his face yesterday was just... I couldn't look at him."

"He keeps asking about the smell.."

"Yeah, that too."

"I don't think it's a good idea for him to be alone now.." Hermione pondered quietly, "Actually, I can see why you think staying here isn't good for him either."

"I don't know what to do... I keep thinking that he's going to get better somehow, but as my brother said, he certainly can be too much."

Hermione was watching Ginny carefully, and Ginny knew she wasn't going to like what Her bushy-haired friend was about to say. "Can't you talk to him?"

'Of course,' Ginny thought bitterly. She stood up and started pacing.

"You almost died, Miss Weasley," the doctor says, but her voice is distant to Ginny's ears. She has been feigning sleep for days. She doesn't want to have to answer their questions if she could help it. She is as good as new, or so the doctors tell her. No serious injuries or permanent damage. She laughs bitterly at that.

"Ginny, please? You are the only one who knows how to get through to him.." Hermione gave her a puppy-eyed look.

"Hermione!" Ginny hissed in annoyance.

"You know what I mean," Hermione mumbled.

Ginny gasped in disbelief. Her insides felt like crawling out. She didn't like where this conversation was going.

The doctor waits for Ginny to talk about anything, even random things that don't seem related to the Chamber. She asks her about her feelings, her friends, her family, and all irrelevant things. When she finally mentions the Chamber, Ginny tells her anything but the truth.

When Tom comes back at the end of her third year, no one bothers asking her if she's scared. It seems they stopped considering her a little girl at last, or maybe they had forgotten just how close she was to dying at the hands of Voldemort.

"Okay, I'm sorry.. forget I asked." Hermione apologised in a defeated voice.

Ginny stared at her friend for a moment like she couldn't believe that Hermione would actually go.. there. She didn't know why she felt a bit stung and cheated somehow.

Hermione would always pick Harry first, wouldn't she?' Ginny thought darkly, and to her absolute horror, she felt the prick of tears that threatened to fall. She bit her lip, hard.

Ginny wakes with the lingering taste of Tom's kiss. She spends the next hour scrubbing her teeth roughly until her gums are raw.

She can't forget anything about the Chamber.

She remembers the crunch of the basilisk's dead skin under her feet, the cold cement floor under her back, and the feel of Tom's hand above her breast.

The searing heat of his lips on her mouth.

She keeps scrubbing until she spits blood into the sink. The toothpaste flavour is gone now, replaced by something sharp and metallic and not entirely unfamiliar.

"You are his best friend, Hermione!"

"I'm not the one in love with Harry."

Harry stood in Fred and George's old room, feeling like a lost three-year-old boy. He didn't know how he got there, but he was just standing there for only Merlin knew how much time. He felt guilty and resented the fact that he couldn't even bring himself to properly explain that he's the one responsible for... It wasn't that Harry didn't know that he wasn't actually the root cause of all those deaths. But he can't stop thinking that maybe if he had been fast enough or if he had made different choices, then perhaps he could have prevented more loss of lives.

Harry sighed tiredly and moved to the desk by the window. There was an old extendible ear going all the way down to the bedroom below this one through the window. He suspected it was Ginny's room, but he couldn't be sure... Harry put the extendible ear's end in his hand and whispered the incantation.

As soon as he did, he heard Hermione's voice, pleading. Then came Ginny's furious exclamation.

"Hermione!"

"You know what I mean."

Harry heard a tiny gasp, and then there was a silent pause, after which Hermione added, "Okay, I'm sorry.. forget I asked."

Harry was about to put the extendible ear back, not wanting to invade the two witches' private conversation even more than he did when he heard the red-haired witch's voice. It sounded strange as if she was on the verge of crying.

"You are his best friend, Hermione!"

"I'm not the one in love with Harry."

Shock crossed Harry's face, his eyes widened in surprise, and his mouth dropped open slightly.