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!

HGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

VENOMOUS CURE

_

Chapter 1: Through Your Window

The day of Fred's funeral began as a lovely, sunny Friday morning. A number of wizards and witches, some of whom were dressed in nearly identical formal robes, and the younger ones, who were dressed in typical muggle attire, were dispersed throughout the Weasley family's garden grounds to attend the funeral and spend time with the bereaved 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.

The family and their friends were gathered around the little Weasley cemetery, which was located above the hill and only a short stroll from the house, on this sunny day in the Burrow. Following a brief prayer, everyone took turns sharing a joke or memory. George and Charlie stunned everyone with a spectacular fireworks display as the service came to an end. After that, everyone began to withdraw to the Burrow garden commenting on the performance. Ron believed that the sounds of conversation carried by a light wind in the summertime couldn't be more fitting it seemed as though Fred was wishing them a final, happy farewell in his own special way. George claimed that of course, his twin wouldn't settle for the depressing and gloomy rain during his bloody funeral and that everyone ought to be having some fun instead of all the grief and melancholy.

The guests who had come to pay their respects began to depart one by one. Only the family members and their close friends remained. They gathered in the garden around a huge table that had been set up especially for the event. Although it was piled high with food that many of their friends had provided, very few of the people made any attempt to eat anything. In the end, Fleur and Hermione decided to store it in the kitchen refrigerator to prevent it from spoiling.

Ginny Weasley stood looking off into the distance at the river. She knelt beneath the old family tree, positioning her back against its massive trunk. Gazing up at the sky obscured by the intertwined branches of the tree, radiant rays of sunlight made their way through, gently warming up the redhead's freckled skin. The sounds of the people gathering around the table never reached her ears, and she glanced in their way.

Her father and mother were holding hands, silently. George appeared as though he wanted to blow up something. At the far end of the table, Ron, Harry, and Hermione were huddled together, alternately wiping away their less-than-subtle tears.

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 undoubtedly thinking about how guilty he felt. Fleur simply entered the home, presumably to cry in private and make it seem as though she didn't or that her pregnancy hormones were to blame.

Ginny pondered how she felt. She felt sad, absolutely. However. 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 stillness of death almost her entire life after all. She knew she was being irrational 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 recalled 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 shifted her legs slowly and gazed down as she noticed some strange feeble movement beneath her leg. A butterfly was fighting its way up Ginny's leg. Instantly, the girl reached out and pulled the poor creature helping it to a makeshift station on her skin. Ginny stared at the tiny butterfly for a couple of moments then murmured an inaudible, "Hi."

She watched as the colourful wings moved lightly, raising off the redhead's leg slightly and then dropping back 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.

"Hello?" came a dreamy voice.

The young witch turned her head following the direction of the voice. A girl with soft dirty blond wavy hair approached the family's wooden table. Ginny watched as Luna stopped to greet them and knew that her 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, thanked the Weasley matriarch and murmured something about seeing them later then headed down to the old tree.

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

"Yeah, it's such a wonderful day to waste it indoors," replied Ginny dryly.

Luna took a few moments to examine her red-haired friend before lowering herself to the ground next to her. "I take it last night wasn't easy, then?" Luna inquired gently. Ginny merely shrugged, and Luna added, "I suppose you're right, it is so peaceful down here, except for the dreadful sounds of frogs and bugs," Luna smiled openly.

Ginny pointed her gaze towards her blonde friend, smiling, "You always do that."

"What?"

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

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

"As if I have another choice..." Ginny grumbled brokenly. She looked at the other girl and said, "I'm sorry, Luna, but I feel like I want to murder someone. Unfortunately, I am far too cowardly to commit self-mutilation."

"Please do not keep saying that. I understand you're probably..." Luna abruptly ceased talking.

Ginny looked at her, "What?"

"I can't find a word that describes your state, Ginny. I am sorry." Luna stated her face was serious, causing Ginny to grin. It was her first real smile that day.

"I suppose it depends," Ginny added, "Most nights are bearable, but some are..."

"I can imagine being this close to him is triggering more violence," she said. "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 stop for a second and allow her to take a breath. Even if her loved ones died, even if she died, that silly cosmic dance in which the sun gently passes over its luminous spear to the moon and casts its warmbeams elsewhere would continue indefinitely.

Ginny was so deeply consumed by her thoughts she barely noticed Neville when he joined them. He had left briefly an hour or so ago to take his grandmother home.

"Sorry I'm late," Neville took a seat at a wooden swing attached to one of the large tree branches, "I instructed the house elf to take care of my granny'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 seemed unusual, but those three were practically joined by the hip. However, if Ginny knew her mother at all, Hermione would be returning 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 live close by, but Ginny 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 questioned.

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

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

Ginny's expression sank, and she failed to respond immediately. Her close friends turned to gaze at her inquisitively.

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

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

"It's not like we weren't expecting it. Who would want to be with someone like me?" Ginny said in a straightforward manner. Luna appeared to be eager to say something, but Ginny waved her off, and Neville, though he put an effort to try and hide it, was angry. He glanced away, refusing to meet her eyes.

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One week after the funerals, 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 kept expecting him to finally do, someday. Eventually.

"What do you mean? I thought you enjoyed being 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 stench 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 raised his eyebrows as he peered at him.

Harry clamped his lips together, resisting an urge to scream.

It wasn't simply the strange odours that only Harry could smell; dead people popped up at random times, sitting at the dining table or lazing in the living room, smiling at him. Hermione suggested they were illusions. It would be just right for the boy who lived to go insane after everything, wouldn't it?

Fuming, he proceeded to drink his coffee in a silent sort of irritation, ignorantly disregarding Ron's puzzled stare.

Harry turned away, staring out the window at the maze of trees that seemed to serve only one purpose. They all lead to the hilltop graveyard: the place where Fred was buried.

HGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

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.

Harry turned away, staring out the window at the maze of trees that seemed to serve only one purpose. They all lead to the hilltop graveyard: the place where Fred was buried.

HGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

"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 enjoyedying 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.

HGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

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 napping on the garden bench. No Dean," Hermione 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 barked, nearly dropping Ginny to the floor. She was startled awake.

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

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

"What did he do now?"

"He said he wanted to look for a flat," Ron repeated, chewing an apple audibly. "He really can be a bloody git sometimes."

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

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

"What do you think?" Hermione said 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 that day 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 pointed out, 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 can help it. She is as good as new according to the doctors, with 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 expression.

"Hermione!" Ginny hissed with 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 address anything, even random topics that don't seem related to the Chamber. She asks her about her feelings, her friends, her family, and other 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 finally ceased 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 as though she couldn't believe that Hermione would actually go.. there. She wasn't sure why she felt a bit stung and cheated somehow.

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

Ginny awakens with the lingering taste of Tom's kiss. She spends the next hour scrubbing her teeth vigorously 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 below her back, and the weight of Tom's hand above her tingling 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."

HGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

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 had been standing there for only Merlin knew how much time. The dead bodies kept randomly showing up and it was gradualy driving him nuts. Their creepy smiles haunted his vision and he exhaled a long sigh. Even dementors weren't as terrifying. Furthermore, his guilt wouldn't leave him alone. He despised himself and resented the fact that he couldn't even bring himself to properly explain that he was the one responsible for... It wasn't that Harry didn't know he wasn't actually the root cause of all those deaths. But he can't stop wondering 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 a neglected extendible ear that led 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 certain... 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 away the extendible ear, not wanting to invade the two witches' private chat any more than he had when he heard the red-haired witch's voice. It sounded odd 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 expanded in surprise, and his mouth dropped slightly open.