Difficulties of Avoidance
by dead2self
A/N: I'm excited about this update! It's been a while coming since I'm stuck on the chapters that come after, but I think I've made some headway. Thanks as always to everyone who's commented, it always gets me to pick up the story once more. Enjoy!
When Ginny groaned awake, she could not move. She was sprawled face down on the wet floor, and there was a weight on her back that crushed the breath out of her. The rubble, she thought, though her mind was groggy, moving slowly. Panic filtered through the haze, but with some effort she could move her left arm and tilt her head so that she was not breathing in wet grit.
Groaning, she cast about with her hand to feel around her, only to find blank air. Confused, she twisted her arm to feel at her back, and found nothing there. There was no rubble on top of her, so why could she not move? The details trickled back to her, her thoughts forming like molasses. Tom had triggered something, an explosion. Something was wrong with her.
Painstakingly, Ginny focused on moving her arm. Her legs felt as heavy as cement blocks, but the more she moved her arm the easier it got. Finally she was able to plant her hand on the ground and push, to little result. Her left side rocked slightly, but her right arm and shoulder might well have been glued to the floor.
Anger broke through her panic, and Ginny gritted her teeth. The Chamber would never have her again. She strained to tilt her head to the side as far as she could manage, and then she saw it. The rune! Her wrist rested in a puddle and the blood was smudged, the rune no more than a red stain.
Frantic, she wet her fingers on the muddy floor and scrubbed at her forehead until she could lift her head completely. The fog cleared from her head and immediately her vision was brighter. She could see the aftermath of the explosion, a chunk of the pipe the size of her fist uncomfortably close to her brow. With renewed vigor, she strained to lift her chest so that she could erase the rune on her breastbone. From there it was easier, until finally she had scrubbed the last vestiges of Tom's hasty blood magic from her skin and she was free.
Ginny seized the rock and surged to her feet, but found no immediate danger. Riddle was still, suspended in the air at the mouth of the exit. His head hung low on his chest, and he did not stir even as Ginny upset rubble to approach him. Her school bag was spilled at his feet. Ginny snatched it up, seizing the spare parchment and stuffing it inside only to find that it was so enlarged that she could not see the bottom. She shuddered, imagining that it would have been her prison.
Cautious, she stooped to gather a potion bottle that had rolled underneath Riddle's feet, eyes glued on him for any movement. From below she could see red runes glowing in a ring around his head at the mouth of the pipe. They could not have been visible before, or Riddle would have seen them. She even recognized some. She had given up Ancient Runes after her O.W.L.s, but she knew some of those runes would keep him from doing magic. She had seen some of the like in Egypt with Bill, who regaled them with stories of finding skeletons of intrepid explorers trapped in cursed rooms even with their wands. He'd had to show a terrified Ginny the actual runes from the dig site after the twins spent the half the holiday shoving her through any door with a rune above it. She'd all but emblazoned them in her mind. Given that scrubbing off Tom's blood had freed her, they had to be blood wards.
First off, she needed to find her wand. Somewhat dismayed, she surveyed the area around Tom. It could be anywhere under the rubble. Then her heart stopped. It was there just under Tom's feet, half buried in debris like some miniature Excalibur.
Dropping to her knees, Ginny shifted the rocks and pulled her wand free. Relief washed over her. She sat back on her heels and found tears threatening at the sheer force of it. Dumbledore had saved her from beyond the grave. Tom was immobilized, even his wandless magic rendered useless. She had her wand. She was free.
Hurriedly, she pulled the Marauder's Map from her bag with a Summoning Charm. She needed to find McGonagall as soon as possible. If the Hog's Head truly was connected to the Room of Requirement, they could smuggle Tom out of the castle.
To her consternation, the professor was nowhere to be found. She fished the D.A. coin out of her pocket, her mind already spinning together some vague message to get the Order's attention. Instead, she found a worrying message.
Snatchers got a coin.
The sense of relief drained out of her and reality snapped back. No. Who had gotten caught? Panic flashed through her – it could be any of her friends – and then resolved into something sharp. This was no time to kneel on the floor in tears. Riddle was trapped, but the war was still on.
If McGonagall was not in the castle and their coins were compromised, she needed to get to Aberforth. Hastily, she scrubbed at her skin, making absolutely certain no remnants of Riddle's blood remained. Then she shouldered her bag, took a gulping breath, and climbed past his floating, frozen form. The runes did not so much as flash, and she found the hand holds in the pipe easily enough.
"Bloody could use a basilisk," she grumbled, and began the long ascent.
When she crawled from the sink, the opening closed behind her. Her heart skipped a beat before she decided that she probably could figure out the sound to open it again. For all that she had given Tom grief, she had heard the phrase several times that day.
She examined the map more closely before leaving the bathroom with growing dread. Something was happening. She could not find any of the professors in the castle besides Snape and the Carrows. Snape was out on the grounds near the gate and Alecto was no longer in her office where Tom had left her. The hallways were eerily still though it was before curfew, and so even though it was the long way around, she made for the Astronomy tower staircase.
Ginny climbed with trepidation until she reached a window high enough to look out over the grounds, towards the front gate. Snape was still there, talking to someone, and with a jolt Ginny realized that the hooded figure was a dementor inside the school grounds.
There was only one person she could think of that would garner such drastic measures. Harry. When Carrow had spotted her in Tom's appearance, she had assumed she was Harry. They thought he would be with Ginny. Did they have reason to believe he might be in the castle?
Hoping beyond hope, Ginny turned from the window to rush towards the Room of Requirement. She kept an eye on Snape's progress as she climbed, and as she rounded the landing onto the fifth floor, the height gave her a clear view of a new horror. Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. Beside the lake, Dumbledore's grave was split from head to foot. The white marble laid cracked in two.
Ginny's blood ran cold. Who would—
The pieces slid into place before she had even finished the thought. A desecrated grave was not the work of Slytherin bullies or even their traitorous Headmaster. No, this was a different level of hunger to prove dominance, one that was all too familiar. Dumbledore was not the only one who had access to Tom's blood and the Chamber. Lord Voldemort had visited the school.
The realization pushed her beyond panic into a crystalline clarity, spinning to sprint back the way she came. There was no time to find anyone else. For all she knew the tripped wards meant the Dark Lord was already on his way.
She took the stairs two at a time, tearing the Marauder's Map from her pocket to consult as she ran. It was a miracle she got to the second floor without a twisted ankle or a tumble down the Grand Staircase. Excruciating minutes of panicked hissing was all it took to open the tunnel and dive back into its depths. Tom was still hanging where she left him, but once she was in front of him, she froze.
She had not come back to save him.
The awful fact crashed over her as she bent before him, clutching her sides from the run. Riddle was unchanged, dangerous, and nearly within their enemy's grasp. She did not know how long she had been unconscious, but to hand him over to Voldemort would be throwing away the lives of everyone she held dear. She had failed weeks ago, but now her time was up.
Ginny pulled the basilisk fang from her bag, but remained rooted in front of him. His breath was slow. Strangely, she remembered him seizing her wrist, pushing her sleeve back to reveal an incriminating soot mark during their cheater's match of Exploding Snap.
The pipes dripped and her stomach twisted. She could not kill him like this. Not without one last attempt. Not without saying goodbye.
"Ennervate," she whispered.
To her relief, Tom stirred. It was little surprise. If she knew Tom at all, she knew he would want to talk to himself. He blinked groggily, and then his eyes shot open. For one brief moment he struggled, but it seemed he could move nothing but his head.
"Not Dumbledore, then," he groaned, noting the wand she leveled at him, seeing something in her bearing that he read like a book. "Spare me your impassioned last attempt to sway me. How long have I been unconscious?"
Ginny bristled. "You mean, how long until You-Know-Who comes to collect his spare parts?"
He snarled, but his eyes flicked upward. The runes shone red around him in an unholy halo. From there he would be able to read them, and he would know what they all meant instead of just a few.
"It's not an alarm spell, merely a trap," he said, and Ginny saw his bluff as clearly as though she could use Legilimency. He was as open a book to her as she was to him.
"Bullshit, Riddle."
He scoffed. "Yet clearly you did not wake me up just to kill me. Foolish hope to the last—"
"Tom."
The solemnity of her voice did not escape him. He stilled, narrowing his eyes on her.
"I woke you up to say goodbye."
He shook his head, one side of his mouth quirking. "Even if you convince yourself of the pragmatism of it, you don't have the capacity for the Killing Curse." Spoken as though it were simple truth. It probably was.
Grimly, Ginny held forth the fang. "I don't need the Curse. All it takes is a scratch."
His smile dropped, and for once, Tom was speechless. The fang captured his full attention, an odd expression of disbelief blooming on his face. Ginny stepped closer, hefting the fang in her hand. It put her in striking distance. And eye to eye with Tom.
"You're right. I don't want to do this. But if it's you or the people I love, he will not have you."
This was different than a clashing of spells. There was no movement or passion. It was cold, but somehow more focused than she had ever been in a duel. Her heart was steadfast and she held his gaze until she knew that he knew it. She saw the seed of fury in his eyes, disbelief ceding to helpless and tight rage, and broke the silence before it exploded.
"So tell me, Tom. You look stuck. Would you say that you need help?"
His lips curled back from his teeth, words spilling out like a curse. "You are the one about to die, not me. He can't be far now."
Ginny pressed her lips together, willing him to listen. To really listen. "Give me a reason not to kill you. I want one."
"I would rather negotiate with myself than with you."
She still clutched the Marauder's Map in her hand and now she furled it open between them. She had checked it relentlessly every step down to the bathroom and did so again now. There was still no sign of another Tom Riddle on the parchment. She glanced back to Tom knowingly. "I swear to you, I will not give you the chance."
"Then be done with it. You don't know the first thing about untangling this curse."
"I have an excellent tutor."
When he did not answer, her heart gripped. He was stalling for time, that much was clear. Her family appeared in her mind's eye as she stepped the final step forward. She imagined Harry at her side as she raised her weapon. The words stuck in her throat, a farewell too horrible to speak out loud, and she knew that this decision would mark her for life. All she could do was look him in the eye and give him the respect he was due at the end.
So, she saw the moment that he broke.
"What do you want? My word?"
Ginny stayed her hand and the words hung between them like magic. They were unbelieving, disparaging, and yet a door nudged ever so slightly open. She found herself smirking despite herself.
"Since when is trust a foundation for negotiation? No, I was thinking more along the lines of an Unbreakable Vow."
He laughed, a bleak and hollow croak. "And who do you intend to cast the spell? Will you kip up and fetch a professor? Somehow I doubt they'll be amenable."
"I imagine you're capable of an appropriate alternative." When he did not immediately reply, she added, "And quickly."
"You practiced the Imperius Curse in class, did you not?."
"That's not what I want," she said, her high emotion boiling into frustration. "How could you think—"
"A conditional blood curse then," he said, silencing her with a sneer. "A sort of forced Unbreakable Vow." At Ginny's deepened frown, he added, "It will be simple enough to teach you once we negotiate the terms."
Blood magic. Her family would be appalled that she would even consider it, but she did not dismiss it out of hand. It sat uncomfortably with Ginny, but the Marauder's Map in her hand was a steady reminder that they had no time to explore a wide variety of options.
"Is it possible to remove?" she asked, and he nodded. That settled her and unsettled her at once. It would not need to be a permanent solution. Perhaps they could replace it with an Unbreakable Vow once they were with the Order. But if anyone could remove a curse, it was Riddle.
"Nearly impossible for the afflicted," he added, and while he may have intended to placate her fears, it had the opposite effect.
"So you say." She leveled a look at him. "You've not been a reliable teacher."
"If it doesn't work, you'll know."
"And I'm meant to trust your word on that?"
She got the impression that were he not frozen, he would throw his hands in the air in disgust. "Blood magic is illegal for a reason. If the spell is cast incorrectly, it could kill me. If it works, you will know."
Ginny crossed her arms, her lips going tight, but Tom spoke over her before she could respond to so ridiculous a claim.
"You need not trust me, Weasley. If afterwards you aren't convinced, you still have the fang."
Fair enough. She need not release him if she was not sure. At least she could say she tried. "Could it rebound on me?"
Tom shook his head. "Would you trust any answer I give you? Enough questions; we both know you're willing to risk death for your cause. What promise will you have from me?"
"Nothing less than the fever dream," she answered, recalling that fateful decision in the corridor with Luna, the night of Dumbledore's death. "I want you to swear that you will help us defeat You-Know-Who."
She expected Tom to go silent, to resist or to calculate. Instead, he countered like lightning. "I will swear not to hinder your efforts to defeat the Dark Lord."
"Not hinder?" If she did not know him better, she would have thought he was ridiculing her, playing for more time. But he was serious. "Why should I accept something that doesn't help me?"
"You care for your safety, for your family and friends. If I only swear to help, I could hurt you anytime, as long as I continue helping to defeat my future self. If I swear not to hinder your efforts, I cannot hurt you or yours in any significant way, because it would hinder your cause to lose any able fighters."
Had he thought of this before today? Or was he merely so clever that he could draw these conclusions in the space of a breath?
"Why the sudden candor? You know it just seems like you're lying about something else."
Tom rolled his eyes. "I do not have great confidence in your Chosen One. If I swear that I'll help you defeat myself, and you lose, the spell may be triggered."
"Harry's escaped more of Voldemort's traps than you have," she snapped, baited by the disdain in his voice.
Tom's lip curled, but he simply said, "You have no counter?"
Ginny forced her ire down, feeling rushed but also aware of the time ticking past. Snape was moving from his post at the front gate. They could not have long. "Fine. Not hindering. How does it work?"
Tom stilled, and she recognized his thoughts. This would not be the consent of the Unbreakable Vow. Once she knew the curse, she could bind him to anything she wanted.
"You have my word, Tom," she said impatiently. "Whatever that means to you, it means something to me."
He did not answer her, except to roll his eyes and begin to explain the curse.
First, she needed to cut him. While the slash she made on his arm dripped into a glass vial, she made a shaky joke about how awful it would be if she needed to drink it. Tom's mouth turned cruel and her stomach flipped, but she did not stop until she had about a finger of blood as instructed. The potion he directed her to make was horrifyingly simple, less a potion than something a child could mix up in a fake cauldron. She needed only add a pinch of Ashwinder eggshells, a drop of her own blood, and to stir six times with her wand. It seemed like a trick, except her wand heated in her hand, thrumming under her white knuckled grip.
The mixture was to be drunk decisively, in one malicious gulp. This was at least better than sipping it, Ginny thought, and knocked it back before she could overthink. It went down her throat like fire and settled in her stomach, a dark ember. The incantation was simple, two words that sounded wrong even as Tom spoke them without a wand and his magic blocked. Still, he slowed for several precious minutes to talk of intent and conviction in the casting. Her frame of mind was as important as the incantation itself. She was to be unwavering, determined, even disdainful. The wand movement was small but precise. After the incantation, she would only need to repeat their terms. The more concise the binding, the higher the chance of success.
"This seems too easy," she said, even though the feeling in her stomach had curled around to the base of her spine and made her fingers buzz.
"Simple does not mean easy," Tom said, tilting his chin up. Bracing himself, she thought. "Not with blood."
Ginny swallowed and lifted her wand. It still had blood on it, but she did not wipe it off. Tom had not told her to. "But if I get it wrong, I'll kill you?"
That distracted him enough to sneer. "And then your problem will be solved. But you excel in charms and curses. This will be no different if you focus and you mean it."
Excel. Ginny could hardly believe the word had passed his lips. He had never deigned to compliment her magic with anything more than 'proficient.' But he was right. She had always been good at curses, and this would be no different. Nodding her resolve, she raised her wand and met his eyes. Conviction was no problem, not when she had just held a basilisk fang to his throat. No, looking into his eyes, it was easy. When she spoke, she cursed him with every sure, hard, biting and ruthless bone in her body.
Power flooded through her and it seized Tom in a vice grip. She felt him beneath her like a fly caught in a web, could distinguish every vein and knew that every drop of blood would obey what she spoke next. Sickly, she realized this is what he meant by being sure. He was pinned more than would have been possible even if she were three times his size. It was a horrible and heady feeling. It would be easy, so easy, to bind him to whatever she wanted. So easy to have exactly what she wanted.
She was close enough to see the flecks and the flint in his eyes, knew that he knew what she was thinking. But she was not like Tom.
"I bind you to this command: you will not hinder any effort to defeat Voldemort."
Saying the name was a risk, but she wanted to leave no room for Riddle to wriggle out with vague terms like the Dark Lord. Besides, Voldemort was already on his way.
The power left her in a rush, but she could sense it as it fell in place. Like she had batted aside his will and thrust hers into his blood. She held his life in her hands as sure as holding the fang to his throat.
Ginny fell to her knees, barely keeping her last meal from coming up. It felt as though she would never be clean again. The tie between them was there even now, like a sheen on her skin. Tom was right. She knew it was working. She would know if it broke. She worried she would feel it if he died, like a beetle shell beneath her heel.
Merlin's beard, she would never again let anyone near even a drop of her blood.
Tom's jaw clenched, and he regarded her on the floor with bright hate in his eyes. No matter that he had taught her the spell to bind him, she knew that what she had done reviled him to his core. But they had no time for the guilt that washed over her, nor the relief that he was bound, that the odium bubbling under the surface could no longer lash out and kill her. They needed to run.
Ginny shoved to her feet, wiping her wand on her robes. "Right, how do I get you down?"
He breathed in through his nose, but spoke in an even tone. "Breaking the ward is easy enough with basilisk venom at your disposal. Disrupt the circle of runes." Ginny picked up the fang again and climbed up next to him before she realized she still did not know what to do. He rolled his eyes. "Scratch through them, you imbecile."
"You're kidding. That's it?"
"Blood magic is powerful, not complex."
The curse still dancing under her skin was evidence of that. Ginny repressed a shudder and gouged a line through the runes around Tom's head, one line in a full circle around him. Tom dropped to the floor, stumbling on the rubble. Ginny caught his arm to keep him from falling, and the two of them locked eyes. His gaze burned into hers, but he did not strike out at her. Instead, he looked up into the pipe.
"We need to move," he said, reaching out a hand above his head. She had only a moment to raise a brow in puzzlement before he snatched a shabby school broom out of the air. "It would be better without a broom, but—"
"Oh shut up," she said, but was unable to keep a grin from her face as she took the broom from him. "I'll show you flying."
He clambered on behind her and Ginny shot them into the air. He pulled tight to her as she took the first hairpin turn and she was pleased to sense a tinge of surprise. She was a better flier than him.
"Take the Map," she yelled, and he snatched it. "We have to get out of the castle. Where are the Carrows and Snape now?"
To his credit, he managed to hang on through a sharp bank even as he studied the map. Still, she heard his hesitation, the moment of calculation when he balanced whether or not he needed to answer.
"Brood later," she snapped.
"Entrance hall, front gate, Headmaster's office," he cut back.
"We should head for the Room of Requirement then. He won't be able to get to us there and I think there's a way to get out of the castle through the portrait."
Venom laced into his voice. "I'm not going back into that room unless I have control over it."
"We'll both have control of it, like it normally is." She chanced a look over her shoulder and saw Tom's eyes narrow. "Don't try anything. We shouldn't confuse the Room with conflicting requests when You-Know-Who could show up at any—"
As they shot into the girl's bathroom, Tom cursed and then yanked hard to the side. Anyone else would have been pitched to the floor, but Ginny reacted instinctively, cursing back at him as she leaned into a barrel roll. He fell off the back, crashing to the floor as Ginny pulled out of the loop.
"Stop, you imbecile," he hissed as he clamored to his feet, splashing in the flooded water. "He's here."
Ginny braked sharply and leapt off the broom. She snatched the Map out of his hands and dried it. "Where?"
"The Headmaster's office. You won't make it to the Room."
Her stomach nearly dropped out. You? Could he abandon her without triggering the curse? "Where are you planning to go? Off to an army of dementors in Hogsmeade with no Patronus?"
"There are more effective ways to deal with dementors."
"And I'm sure you already employed them when you bent them to your service." Tom rolled his eyes and moved toward the door, but Ginny cut him off. "The Forest. How much did you explore the Forest at school?"
Tom frowned. "Hardly at all once I realized it was only full of stupid beasts."
"He won't know it any better, then. Come on!" She closed the distance and seized his arm, hauling him behind her on the broom once more. She kicked off before he could protest. To her relief, she felt a Disillusionment charm trickle down her neck as they burst into the corridor.
They whipped down the hall, dodging around a single Ravenclaw burdened with books, presumably defying orders to stay in the common rooms. A cry rose up behind them and Ginny swooped as close to the ceiling as possible. Her heart clenched and before she could think better of it, she yelled, "Get out of the halls!"
"What is wrong with you?" Tom hissed, but Ginny gritted her teeth. If any student saw Voldemort in the castle, they were dead. They rounded the corner too fast to see if the boy paid her mind, but she could not just leave him to his own devices.
In moments they shot out into a spiral stairwell and Ginny dove. She bent low, pushing the poor Cleansweep until it was vibrating under her grip. They blew past Peeves, who was drawing chalk mustaches on a red-faced witch and two other portraits who had come to berate him. At their passing he perked up and shot after them.
"Oooh," he squealed, doing a loop around Ginny. "Very naughty children riding brooms indoors—"
"Shove off, Peeves," Ginny shouted, kicking an invisible foot at his pudgy stomach. The poltergeist sputtered, rolling once in the air before shooting chalk after them at the speed of bullets. Ginny dipped to dodge, but Tom thundered a hex that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. The poltergeist froze rictus in midair. They left him in their wake as Ginny cursed. "We're leaving a trail—"
"You already left a trail; now I'm leaving a message. Give me your wand and I'll kill the one in the Entrance Hall."
"Are you mad?"
"Are you not at war?"
"No, we'll go out the courtyard. It's closer besides."
When they broke into the courtyard, Ginny rocketed up into the open sky. Freedom, she thought, overwhelmed by the feeling after nearly two weeks imprisoned in the Room. But they were not free yet.
Ginny forced herself to look down, to focus. They couldn't check the Map while it was Disillusioned, but they certainly could not reveal themselves in the shadow of the towers. From their perch on high she could see dementors on the grounds. The air was heavy, as though a gale was on its way even though the skies were perfectly clear. They were practically breathing despair.
Ginny swooped towards the Forest, getting lower to find a decent point of entry. "What was your superior method of dealing with dementors?"
Tom released his grip on her. It was the only warning she got before her skin went cold and every dementor on the lawn tilted its face up in her direction. Somehow she knew they were drawing on her, some connection made between them. She felt their appetites on her like hooks in her skin and with a great shiver, she lost her grip on the broom and fell.
The ground rushed towards her, but a Cushioning Charm saved her. She slowed above the ground and then sank gently to the earth, frozen as happiness leaked out of her. But just as quick as it had come, the connection severed. Ginny pulled a shaking breath as warmth filled her, but she was not yet safe. Every dementor on the lawn had drawn closer to her. They now cast about looking for her with wheezing, sucking breaths. But they were behaving oddly, weaving in place, stumbling to the ground. They seemed drunk.
Cursing Tom, Ginny leapt to her feet and summoned her Patronus. It circled her, fending off the swaying dementors as Ginny looked towards the gate. Sure enough, Amycus Carrow was sprawled out on the ground, dead or Stunned. But he was not alone. Just beyond the threshold of the gate, she could make out Tom's prone form and a fallen broomstick.
Ginny charged across the lawn with her Patronus at her side, her thoughts turned black. She would kill Tom for this and she ought to bleed him for another blood curse potion if "not hindering" meant that he could still feed her to dementors. In what universe did leaving her to die not count as hindering their cause? He was motionless, though, and she could not leave him there for Voldemort to pick up at his leisure.
She slid to her knees next to his body. "Ennervate!" she hissed, but it did nothing. He was hardly breathing, frozen just like he had been in the chamber. There had to be another blood curse, but there was no time to find the runes, if that was even how it worked. She snatched up the broom and tucked it under her arm. Hooking Tom under the arms, she dragged him back over the threshold of the gates, angling for the Forest. She had hardly gotten a meter when she felt him shock awake.
"There's another curse you bastard," she hissed. Her heart was thundering, and all she could feel was murderous rage. If she died because of Tom Riddle's arrogance she would certainly come back to haunt him. "Will you be reasonable for five minutes and work with me?"
Tom struggled to his feet and she felt a new Disillusionment Charm trickle over her head. She seized his hand in a vice grip before he could take off again and ran with him towards the tree line. She held on as though her life depended on it, because it probably did. If he broke the grip and she lost him he evidently had no obligation to stop and save her per his curse. She would be alone against the Dark Lord.
They made it to the trees and Ginny pulled them deeper still into the shadows of the forest. "Revelio," she whispered once they would no longer be visible from the lawn.
Tom's teeth were clenched tight as he spun on her. "Work together? On this brilliant plan? They'll be on us in minutes."
Ginny released his hand to shove him as hard as she could. He was right. They were not nearly deep enough in the Forest to truly hide, not after his stunt. "Maybe it would have worked if you weren't such an absolute prick."
"He'll know I'm on the grounds. He'll burn the bloody Forest to the ground if he suspects I'm working against him."
Ginny's stomach bottomed out. There was an edge of fear in his voice that chilled her. He really was afraid. Even though he had treated Dumbledore as a matched opponent, he had not truly feared him. Feared his power and his influence, perhaps, but not him. This was different. He knew himself and he had reason to be afraid, because death really was at his doorstep. Maybe it would be different had she not convinced him his Horcruxes were destroyed, but his greatest threat was descending through the castle and Tom was without protection.
Like someone whispered it to her, she remembered waking up in the Chamber to a pierced, ink-stained diary and salvation. To realizing she was no longer alone.
Snatching the Marauder's Map from where Tom had stuffed it into his pocket, she found her Tom first, in the Forest. The second was already on the second floor, moving away from the girl's bathroom. He would be out the front in minutes, and in her gut Ginny knew Tom was right. If Voldemort did not find Tom lying just outside the entrance, he would raze the Forest to the ground.
But if he did see Tom…
Ginny picked up the broom from where it had fallen, a horrible plan forming in her mind. Her insides curled, but she swallowed her fear and said, "I can get past him."
Tom had been reaching for the map, but this declaration shocked him into meeting her eyes. "Don't be absurd. You'll lead him right to me once he catches you."
"I can if I'm flying." Ginny felt it in her bones. If she knew anything, it was how fast she could fly. The distance to the gate was more than the length of the Quidditch pitch. A spell could fly that far, but it would not change direction at the last moment like a Bludger. She could make it easily.
Reaching out, she plucked a single hair from his head. A Summoning charm fetched her a vial of Polyjuice potion from her school bag, and she mixed in the strand as Tom's surprise sluiced into disbelief. He seized her wrist before she could tip it back, brow furrowed, and she flashed him her fiercest glare for wasting precious seconds. They did not have time for his prejudice.
He broke her gaze, eyes darting towards the gate. "Just a drop," he murmured, "and it should last fifteen minutes."
Ginny nodded and did as he said. The transformation was as horrible as always, but she wasted no time once she steadied. Her heart hammered in her chest as she swung a leg over the shaft, lifting off into a hover.
"If I survive, you owe me," she said, looking him dead in the eye. His lips narrowed, but then he nodded.
"Good. Get to the Room and ask it for food. I'll figure out how to get in through the portrait, and then we can deal with your blood wards once he's left. If you don't let me in within ten minutes, do you think you'll be sufficiently endangering my life?" Her eyes flashed. She had not forgotten the dementors.
He narrowed his eyes. "Don't be absurd. There will be no way for me to know you'll even come back—"
"I'm telling you I will," Ginny ground out, and she held his gaze until he rolled his eyes.
"Fine. But if you collapse at the gate, you will have no help from me."
Ginny could not help but chuckle. Maybe if she still had two feet on the ground, she would be cowed, but on a broom she felt invincible. "Then wish me luck, you git."
A tight nod was all she got before she shot out from the tree line. A cry went up from the entryway as she wheeled up into the open air, executing a neat loop that shot her in the direction of the gate. She felt the heat of a spell approaching and dodged low, casting a glance over her shoulder.
There was a man in the doorway that resembled Tom. His skin was pale and he was tall, taller even than Tom. His hair was black too, blacker than Tom's, but still something about him seemed off. He wore dark, heavy robes despite the summer sun, and even from this distance she thought that his eyes were red. Then the image shimmered and he lost all semblance of humanity. Where his nose had been were two slits like a snake, his skin had turned bone white. Hairless and wrong, it was like looking into the eyes of a skull. She remembered her Occlumency as he raised his wand and braced for the worst.
Rather than a curse, the skeletal figure lifted into the air. A high, desperate laugh escaped her mouth. A broomstick versus self-sustained flight. Now was her chance to prove Tom wrong once and for all.
Another spell seared past her as Ginny stretched out low on the broom, barrel rolling out of the way. She screamed through the gate without incident and streaked down the path towards Hogsmeade. A glance behind showed the Dark Lord was gaining and so she dove off the path into the patch of forest that separated the road from the carriage path to the station. She wove between trees, dipping and climbing to make for a harder target. Trees started exploding around her.
Crying out, Ginny warded her eyes against wood chips and spotted her pursuer skirting along the carriage road. His billowing heavy robes, she thought, might be slowing him down. There was a reason she and Harry could spend hours drooling over the newest model brooms. Even with magic, aerodynamics was king.
A patch of earth exploded in her path and Ginny swerved in time to feel a piece of debris slice across her cheek. She gritted her teeth. He was not keeping pace with her, but he was forcing her to slow down. Enough hiding. She needed to rely on her speed.
Climbing, Ginny shot out over the top of the trees and traced a blazing arch into the sky. The Cleansweep vibrated under her hands like it would shake apart, but she pushed it even faster. Voldemort rose in the air too, but he was falling behind. Just enough for her to make her move. When she could make out the roofs of Hogsmeade she streaked out across the road and through a garden with a dancing scarecrow. She scraped into a tight alley and flung her wand at a cellar door just ahead. It snapped open and she dived through.
In the cellar she pulled up tight and hopped off the broom, her breath coming fast as she held her hands in front of her. Still Tom's long, spidery fingers. Cursing, she swiped a heavy cloth off the stack of firewood in the corner and Transfigured it into a robe with a substantial hood. With the broom in one hand and her wand in the other, she charged up the stairs and slipped through the back door into the garden. She froze the scarecrow and settled the robe over its shoulders. A few sticking spells attached it to the broom and then she tilted it into the sky, hitting it with the strongest Locomotion Charm she could muster. The broom rocketed out of her hands into the sky, and Ginny scrambled back into the house to tuck herself in the pantry and wait out the Polyjuice Potion.
They were the most tense minutes of her life, but Tom had been telling the truth. A single drop of the potion did not last long. When she finally felt her skin bubble and twist back into herself, she seized an oversized witch's hat and purple cloak from next to the door, and set off with purpose. She was not far from the Hog's Head, less than one street away, but she took every step sure it would be her last. She could hardly believe it when she ducked into the alley behind the pub and nearly cried when Aberforth peered through the crusted pane of glass on the door.
"I need to get through the portrait," she said without preamble when he opened the door. "You-Know-Who—"
"Bloody don't say another word," he snapped, hauling her through the doorway and bundling her upstairs.
"Where's the other one?" he said as Ginny pulled away from him and cast around the room until she found the portrait of Ariana. It was on the mantle, next to a small mirror.
"How does it open? I need to get back into the Room."
"Are you mad? You're the Weasley girl, aren't you? They've been looking for you."
"It's Order business," Ginny said, spinning on him. "I need to go back."
"Order business? You are a child. You have no business—"
"I'm on Dumbledore's orders."
"Don't be stupid, girl! My brother is dead."
Snarling, Ginny turned back to the portrait. "Ariana, is he in the room? Open the passageway." To her relief, Ariana shot a guilty glance in Aberforth's direction before slipping out of the frame. The background of her painting was a tunnel, just as it had been in the Room of Requirement.
"Oh, bloody hell," breathed Aberforth. "I tried everything but she wouldn't open the passage all the way. It must have been Albus, put ideas of heroism in her head."
"She is a hero. I can't tell you why, but she saved more than you know."
Aberforth snorted. "All I saw was two kids starving," he said. "My brother think of feeding you?"
He probably trusted you to do it, she thought, but she turned away from Aberforth to hold her tongue. The last thing she wanted right now was argue with a bitter old man. She was trembling with adrenaline, only half sure that Tom would follow her instructions. She needed a backup plan if he did not. If the dementors were still incapacitated, maybe she could enter through a different passageway.
Aberforth left grumbling as she stood her ground in front of the portrait. Ten minutes passed until she spotted Arianna returning. Aberforth re-entered as the portrait clicked open, shoving a plate into her hands with two slices of shepherd's pie.
"You go get the boy and then we'll figure out how to get you up into the mountains to Apparate. They've got barriers up in Hogsmeade and today they're more skittish than a baby goat. Probably ought to do it in the morning right after curfew lifts."
Ginny paused on the threshold. Now that her heart was not racing, it struck her as odd that he did not already had a plan in place to get them out. She thought her message on the D.A. coin to the Order would have gotten to him by now.
"Are you not in contact with anyone in the Order?" she asked.
"Not if I can help it," he gruffed. "An' even they're not fool enough to send an owl to Hogsmeade these days."
Then maybe help still was on the way, but she could not depend on it. She only hoped it would be as easy as he said to get her and Tom out of the village.
"Stay inside," she warned him, one foot in the passageway. She did not mention Voldemort, or he would never let her go. "The Death Eaters are going to be dangerous today after what I did."
A/N: The tables keep turning, bet you didn't see this one coming!