Difficulties of Avoidance

by dead2self

A/N: So, after a VERY long hiatus, I finally have a new chapter for my very small number of readers. haha... I edited the earlier chapters and reposted them today. Unfortunately, I still don't have a beta! Every time I think I've got one, they end up ignoring me and it never happens. It's enough to dishearten a person, so I've pretty much given up on that front. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, despite it being Tom-less. It's been a long time in the making.

Ginny was dangerously inattentive in her potions class the next morning, made only worse by the presence of their former professor in the dungeon

Ginny was dangerously inattentive in her potions class the next morning, made only worse by the presence of their former professor in the dungeon. Snape sat at his old desk, scowling and looking none too happy to be filling in for Slughorn, who had taken a sudden, convenient sick day on the same day as a highly anticipated Holyhead Harpies match. Beside Ginny, Luna was leaning precariously over their cauldron to squeeze the pus out of a bubotuber, a practice Ginny would have usually corrected quickly. Ginny was at work dicing a particularly sticky slug, but her mind was not on their Gregory's Unctuous Unction.

In her mind, Ginny was still standing over Tom, ready to cast the Cruciatus Curse. Something had stopped her, but Ginny was no longer sure it had been something within her that had stayed her wand. The more she though about it, Ginny was sure: there had been something different about Tom Riddle. She had spent all morning trying to put her finger on it.

At first she had assumed that it was simply his appearance. But that was ridiculous, because he had been an exact copy of her memory when she first found him. In addition, she had spent very little time during her first year actually seeing Riddle. The most she remembered about his appearance was his hair and his eyes, and that was only because he heavily resembled Harry in those respects. Why would she notice a difference in something she had not noted in the first place?

"Miss Weasley, if you mangle that slug any further, it will be of little use to anyone." Ginny jumped and looked guiltily over her shoulder where Snape was hovering, his perpetual sneer deeper than usual. "Perhaps if you spent more time focusing on your schoolwork, and less time daydreaming—"

"LUNA!" Ginny, having looked past Snape in an attempt to ignore the oncoming lecture, had caught sight of something disastrous. Luna was bending to retrieve a handful of pomegranate seeds that she had dropped, and when she emerged from behind the cauldron, the tips of her hair were on fire.

Ginny's mutilated slug was quickly forgotten as Snape swooped into action. He was lucky that Luna was the victim, as any other student would have been shrieking and making quite a scene. Instead, Luna stood as if Petrified and watched Snape cautiously out of the corner of her eye as he snatched up nearby knife, took Luna's hair in a fistful, and chopped off her smoldering locks. Shrieks of protest rose from a gaggle of girls who would have rather gotten their scalps burnt than an impromptu haircut from Snape, and Ginny winced rather sharply herself at the damage. As Snape drew his wand and (now that there was no danger of casting a strange spell on Luna's head) extinguished the flames, Luna examined her reflection in her silver knife. When Snape reluctantly offered a Hair-Growing Charm, Luna declined. "I rather like it this way," she told a dubious Ginny.

Snape was not humored. "Miss Weasley, in the past, you have been allowed to work with your friend only because you have shown an aptitude for preventing her more atrocious disasters," he said. "If you cannot manage this, I will have to disallow your partnership."

"Oh, please don't!" Ginny said without much conviction. Luna had already had her fair share of Potions mishaps this year and Ginny would not be completely devastated if they were forced to work with different partners until Slughorn returned. Luna looked slightly more dismayed at their impending separation, as did their classmates, who were currently developing excellent Gregory's Unctuous Unctions. Snape did not enforce his threat at once, but when Luna dipped her sleeve in their undiluted potion ten minutes later and corroded it up to her elbow, Snape did not take kindly to it. He reassigned her to Patrick Swift, who looked utterly defeated.

Upon their departure from class, Ginny realized Tom had worn the same expression in the moment that she had stood over him and he had egged her on to curse him. He had looked defeated. Ginny imparted this knowledge to Luna, who acknowledged it with a mere hum, her hand feeling awkwardly at her newly bared neck. Luna had been disinclined to talk about Tom all morning, so Ginny resolved to work through the issue on her own.

Although Ginny had concluded that Tom had looked defeated, she was not content to stop there. There was something so wrong, so contrary, in Tom being defeated. But why else would he have asked her to "give it her best go"? Did he want to get hurt and be done with everything?

Ginny continued this train of thought well into lunch, and often found herself missing her mouth and depositing food into her lap. It was hard to say whether or not Tom was acting naturally, as she had never before held him in her mercy. During her first year, she had acted to his every whim.

A light bulb went off in her head just as she overturned a pitcher of pumpkin juice into Eveline's lap. Tom had once been at her mercy, the very first time she opened the diary – maybe even for the whole first week when she still had the opportunity to give it back or tell her parents. Thinking hard, delving into the crevices of her mind that she had left long untouched, Ginny tried to recall how he had acted then.

Sweet. Caring. Very reassuring, and always morally upright. And with a careful manipulation of her emotions, her loneliness, and her fears, he had slowly enticed her to his side. And if she ever once doubted whether or not she should keep the diary, or if she ever forgot to write to him and give him strength, he had gently drowned her with guilt. And now…

"Go on; give it your best go." A knowing smirk, if only in his voice.

Without warning, Ginny let out a frustrated shriek and slammed her hands down on the table, making her housemates jump. She had done it again! She had let Tom Riddle appeal to her conscience and blatantly manipulate her, and she had danced to his tune without a second thought. Of course, by that time he would have known she was incapable of the curse, however much she had wanted to perform it; in the very least, her angry response to his treatment of Luna would have tipped him off that her first instinct was not anything more than paltry curses. Self-loathing bubbled up in her head for a moment before she frantically tried to push it away; he should be the focus of her anger, not herself.

She took her notes in Transfiguration with a violent intensity, stabbing at her parchment until her script was nearly illegible. It made perfect sense in hindsight. How could she even think for a minute that Tom Riddle had been defeated? His present self had survived years as a body-less spirit in the black forests of Romania; by comparison, Riddle's current situation was painless. If he could escape the Room of Requirements and get his hands on a wand, the world was his playground.

And now she was back to square one, because even if Riddle had twisted her around his finger, there had still been something different about him substantial enough for her to notice and stay her wand. But before she could devote anymore thought to the subject, McGonagall instructed them to draw their wands. To Ginny's surprise, Luna drew her wand from her robe pocket.

"Luna, why aren't you keeping your wand behind your ear?" she whispered.

Luna glanced up, and Ginny was surprised to see that her expression was guarded. "Oh, I just realized that it was a rather volatile way to hold it, that's all." Luna turned her attention to the turtles Professor McGonagall was handing out, and Ginny did likewise. It was not long before her mind drifted back to Riddle and Luna's eccentricities were forgotten.

It was not until Quidditch practice that Ginny put her finger on it. The realization came to her like a Bludger to the head—literally, she nearly got unseated in the process. Coote and Peakes were trying their level best to catch her, and Ginny had been pushing her brother's old Cleansweep 11 to its limits to avoid their shots. Just as she twisted into a nosebleed dive to avoid a Bludger, she recognized the behavior that she had observed in Riddle.

He had been desperate, and it was frightening. In the past, Riddle had been so sure that he could overcome her and escape from the diary. His underestimation of both Harry and herself had caused his downfall, but now things were different. Tom Riddle was no longer in control, and so he would anything and everything in his power to turn things his way. And knowing the amount of power that Lord Voldemort held, that was a terrifying thought. Ginny ended practice early and the chilling November wind had nothing to do with how much Ginny shivered on the way up to the castle.

When she burst into the common room, she was relieved to see Luna engaging two uncomfortable first-years, Hestia and Natalie, in conversation.

"Ginny!" Luna called, breaking off her train of thought as soon as she saw her friend enter the room. A good majority of the common room looked relieved when Luna rose to meet Ginny.

"Luna, you really can't come in here, nice as you please, whenever you want," Ginny said, taking her by the arm to lead her out. Despite her attempt to lighten her tone, Ginny still felt her voice shake.

"My dear," said the Fat Lady as Ginny closed the portrait hole behind them. "You look pale as a sheet."

Ginny muttered back some semblance of a response, hoping she sounded angry, but Luna had already started staring at her in concern. Once they were out of the earshot of any nosy portraits, Ginny took a steeling breath.

"I've been thinking about Riddle."

Luna stopped walking, but did not reply or make eye contact.

"All day," Ginny continued slowly as Luna watched an empty tapestry, whose inhabitants were well known for their nighttime socializing. Abruptly, the severity of the situation hit Ginny, and she pulled Luna around by her shoulder.

"We have to stay away from him at all costs. He's desperate, Luna," she said urgently. "He'll do anything to get out, and that's what makes him more dangerous than before."

Luna avoided eye contact, and studied the floor extensively. "I could have told you that," she replied after a pause, fingering her neck. She dropped her hand quickly, but she had already drawn Ginny's attention. Now that she had caught sight of them, the bruises on Luna's neck were hard for Ginny to miss.

"Luna, what happened!" she cried, pulling Luna's cropped hair away from her face.

"Well, Madam Pomfrey got most of them before I could get away with Dumbledore to come after you…" Luna answered vaguely, still avoiding Ginny's eyes.

"There were more?" The ugly bruises on the sides of Luna's neck looked painful enough on their own.

"I never really expected Tom to attack me… so…" Luna looked up while Ginny faltered for something to say, and the dam broke. "I was just talking at first, and… he got so angry, I couldn't believe it. He started yelling terrible things about… Then he—well, I didn't have time, and his hand was around my throat and I was on the floor. I think he reached for my wand, but there was a bang… and he let go. And I ran away."

Although she did not cry again, Luna's eyes were shimmering. "I had no idea," she whispered. "At first, when he was being contrary, I thought he was getting affected by the Dust Mice that appear in solitary confinements. We spent a whole day cleaning the corners of the room and it didn't help at all. I should have known by then that it was really just him."

A knot screwed up in Ginny's throat, and wordlessly, she folded Luna in a hug. They stayed like that until Luna broke the silence.

"So, we'll both stay away."

"Yes." Ginny pulled back and wiped at her eyes, although they were dry. "And I'd better talk to Professor Dumbledore."

Ginny was strangely reminded of her first year as she sunk into the chair opposite Dumbledore. The whirring, puffing instruments still made her nervous, but she was glad to see Fawkes preening on his golden perch by the door. The last time she had sat in this position, she had been explaining to Dumbledore, in between sobs, about the diary and Riddle.

The Headmaster settled into his own chair with an amiable smile, although Ginny suspected he was having similar thoughts to hers. "Now, Miss Weasley—"

"Ginny," she interrupted. "You can call me Ginny, sir. You call Harry by his first name, don't you?"

"Indeed, I do," Dumbledore answered, now with a smaller, more genuine smile. "Ginny, then, I believe you wished to talk to me about Tom?"

And so Ginny told him everything: her argument with Luna, going to see Tom in order to avenge Luna (here, Dumbledore frowned at her lack of judgment, but said nothing), her emotional breakdown, and consequential thoughts.

When she was finished, the professor nodded gravely. "Indeed, Ginny, it has been apparent to me for quite awhile that young Mr. Riddle is willing to employ any means to escape. He is a young man of terrible capabilities. "

When Dumbledore put it simple as that, Ginny felt rather foolish; the realization that had taken her a whole day to work out had already been in the headmaster's hands for several months. But instead of making her feel foolish, Dumbledore continued the conversation.

"But consider for a moment, Ginny, Mr. Riddle's behavior. In his desperation to escape, he is still very level-minded. Can you see why?"

Having just recently touched on the idea that Tom Riddle was desperate, Ginny was not sure how to respond. "Well… I reckon he hasn't killed anyone yet," she answered uneasily.

Dumbledore chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head. "Indeed, but furthermore… During the many visits in which Miss Lovegood was alone with Tom – which I do regret in hindsight – there were surely many opportunities for him to steal her wand. Even without magic, Tom Riddle is a very capable young man of… great charisma. But instead of striking out blindly with a wand, he bided his time and waited for you. You, who he suspected could provide a higher knowledge of the situation than Miss Lovegood."

"You mean…?"

"No, prior to this incident, Tom had no knowledge of why he was being held captive. I am sure he suspected some sort of time travel because of my appearance, but he did not know the year or the circumstances surrounding his life. I must admit, it was a disadvantage I had naïvely hoped to keep him in."

A fresh wave of shame swept over Ginny. "Sir, I'm so sorry…"

"As I said, it was naïve of me to believe I could keep Tom Riddle in the dark," Dumbledore said. "Now all we can do is to adjust accordingly."

The worry must have betrayed itself on Ginny's features, because Dumbledore's eyes softened as he looked at her.

"You can be assured, Ginny, that I have taken every precaution where Tom Riddle is concerned. He is trapped, and no matter how desperately he may long to escape, he cannot. You have nothing to fear from him, unless you happen to do something very foolish."

Ginny shook her head and set her jaw stubbornly. "I plan to avoid him under all circumstances," she promised, and she meant it.