Harry Potter 1. Prolouge

River-Star: Yes, this is my first Ginny fic. Give me a break. I've written some other fics but never attempted a Harry Potter type. I hope you guys like it. Review.  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned this do you think I would even be writing on of these??? Come on!  
  
Chapter One  
  
Sometimes I want to die. I want to feel a sword go through my heart and crush it into two pieces. I want to press a knife to my throat and feel the steady trickle of red liquid down my chest. I want to put a gun to my forehead and feel something stronger than a headache burrowing into my brain. I want to dive under water and forget to come up and feel the closing of the world around me. Why?  
  
Oh, it's so simple. Because I did something I'm not supposed to. And though it may seem harmless, it was a death warrant in my view.  
  
Because I simply did something that I wasn't supposed to: I fell in love.  
  
Love, such an intoxicating feeling, isn't it. When you feel that adrenaline rush over your body and the heat spread from your heart to everywhere else. When someone asks you something and you wish it were something else, like, "I love you, do you love me?" and you want to scream yes because it's the only thing that will save you. But then you listen, fall out of your daydreams and hear, "Did you finish your homework?"  
  
I would tell you that I was normal once. That everything had been easy. That I had not always been a girl with wild red hair and crazy fantasies. But that would be a lie, wouldn't it? And nobody likes a liar. So I'll tell you the truth.  
  
My name is not one people repeat often though it's not hard to say. Virginia Weasley. Not hard, was it? No, I didn't think so. My name from birth has changed but only slightly. People know me only as Ginny Weasley or that girl that betrayed us all.  
  
Like I said, my name is Virginia Weasley, the only daughter of a poor pureblood family with six sons. I am a witch or a witch-in-training at Hogwarts, the ever-brilliant school of witchcraft and wizardry. I am fifteen years old, soon to be sixteen as of two days from now.  
  
And, as I have said, my life is not boring. Not by any stretch. In my first year, I found a black leather bound diary that had entrapped.. No, more like had place a memory of a dark angel inside of it. That angel's name was Tom Marvalo Riddle.  
  
He was sixteen while I was only eleven and he tortured me. Ah, yes, the question of how can a boy torture a girl without touching her has come up several times in my mind. Always the answer is: make her do things she doesn't want to do. And that's exactly what he did. Tom Riddle took over my mind, possessed me and forced me to kill chickens, play with their blood to form sentences on walls, and nearly lead me to my death. Did I know this was happening? Of course, but only after I had figured out that I had only started doing these things after I had under my control a certain black leather bound diary. So I threw it away in a toilet and ran off, thinking everything would be okay.  
  
I was wrong. And I paid for it dearly. The next day I blacked out. Or I thought I had. Instead, Tom Riddle had taken over my mind again, forcing me to open the Chamber of Secrets again and again to flex its gaze on more muggleborns. And the whole time this ordeal was going on, Harry Potter, my crush of that year, had gripped the diary, written in it, and sustained Tom.  
  
But this story is not about Harry Potter; he's not to come in yet. Therefore I will continue and not dwindle along my story.  
  
Soon after Harry Potter had obtained the diary, I was taken over again and I pushed myself down into the dark slimy depths of the horrid Chamber of Secrets. I saw Tom. He tortured me again, forced my to slice my upper arm and go back up and to draw upon the stonewall of Hogwarts my death warrant. Then I returned so that Tom Riddle could draw power from me and knock me into a near death.  
  
After a whole day stuck with Tom Riddle, I have no idea what he did to me. I just know that soon after he was defeated by Harry Potter and I woke up from my 'death-sleep.' We got out of the Chamber, with my older brother, Ron, and I told Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, everything.  
  
Needless to say my parents were a bit angry and sad at the same time. Virginia Weasley was in trouble again. So my mother kept a good eye on me for four years, waiting patiently for me to snap out of a depression that I had dragged myself into. No one seemed to be able to cure me. I was always thinking of how I could possibly lift the shame of having a poor pureblood family off of me, thinking of ways to escape.  
  
No, I didn't turn to Tom Riddle, despite what others may think. I wanted to stay as far away as possible from that bastard. He wouldn't be an escape. Only another torture for my fifteen-year-old mind.  
  
So, here I was, sitting in my room, thinking of ways to escape. Two days from now I would turn sixteen, I would go back to Hogwarts in a week, I would leave home and go back to the school. Back to the place that held me captive.  
  
My room, small and too cozy for the terrors it held in it, had only my bed, a dresser full of clothes and a small closet and bathroom. My closet was only halfway full of clothes, mostly muggle kinds because I disliked wizard types with their long robes and long sleeves that tended to drape over my hands. The other half of my closet was filled with schoolbooks and school items and two trunks. Needless to say, like my bro Ron's room, I had some posters on my wall, often-leftover ones of Quidditch or some famous witch. The wallpaper was a dull pink color, reflecting on tainted innocence long forgotten. My door was nothing more than a piece of brown wood over an opening for privacy.  
  
As anyone could tell, over the years my father had not received a raise or promotion and we just got poorer due to the fact that no one could possibly have at least five children in a school without denting their finances. Unless, of course, they were the Malfoys, a pureblood wizarding family with more money than anyone that I knew. But then again, the Malfoys were extremely stuck up and thinking themselves the most glorious thing ever to walk this planet. Ha! Is all I want to say to them. I doubt it would pierce their fluffed up pride though.  
  
As I thought of ways to escape, my mind crossed over many things. A time turner, I thought. But what if I went to Tom Riddle's time? I would be paralyzed from fear, unable to move if I went there and it would only be a certain level of difficulty to drain everything out of me. But if I did it right . . . My thoughts zoomed down that track, always resting on the probability that I might just run into a younger version of the Dark Lord.  
  
My gaze stopped staring at my peeling ceiling with its pink paint and I focused it on my dresser. On it sat a time turner, the gold reflecting in the moonlight. How tempting. I thought steadily, my gaze piercing it like a cat observing its prey. Then I made up my mind.  
  
I got up, grabbed the time turner in my hand tightly, and twisted it upside down and then right side up a couple of times. My body felt a tug as I flew down to the ground. The skin and bones that I was crept ever closer to the place that I turned to (if I even knew where that was) and I screamed. The last thing I noticed before I blacked out was that the Burrow was no longer there and instead there was only an open field of long grass. Ginny, I thought before the darkness enclosed me, I don't think we're in the Burrow anymore. 


	2. On The Road Again

River-Star: Thank you if you reviewed. If you didn't then *sticks tongue out unceremoniously* Here's the next chapter for all of you!  
  
Chapter Two  
  
I woke up with the uncomfortable feeling of dirt and rocks against my skin. With a groan I pushed myself up from my face and onto my knees, staring around me with the use that the moonlight gave me. I tried to remember what my father had said about the Burrow and when it was built. My body froze. He didn't build or buy the Burrow (though I suspect it was more of the first) till 1970. A little alarm went off in my head and I started to panic. What year was it?  
  
I scrambled to my feet quickly. God almighty! What year was it? My breathing came in short ragged puffs of air as I thought about it. I could either be in the year 1900 or 1965 because 1966 was when my father started coming to this place and make plans for the Burrow. I groaned, "Muffins!" Weak word, I know, but my parents never allowed me to curse so that was as close as I ever got to it.  
  
I started walking, thinking of the fact that I hadn't had breakfast yet and the nearest town was about fifty miles away. Father had said the Burrow was a private place for only his family and him, that he wanted it as far as possible from civilization in case of emergencies. Of course, the thought that a time turner might go all wrong never occurred to him I bet.  
  
By the time dawn was emerging into the morning, my feet hurt, my throat ached for water, my stomach growled in protest in need of food, and my legs were burning. I was tired, I need rest! Then again, that was to be expected if you were never allowed to play with your brothers in any punch-kick-and-run things. So I pushed myself forward, ignoring the fact that I was now only one-fifth away from the Burrow's future site and four- fifths away from the nearest town.  
  
"God!" I screamed with a weak voice, "You have a very cruel sense of humor!" My legs collapsed and I started to cry. The tears touched my lips and I parted them so the tears could fall on my tongue and make it stop throbbing. Surprisingly, it did. I remembered how Harry had told me that a person had made water sprout from their wand and glared at nothing. Wait a second! My wand!  
  
I took it out of my PJs, always close by due to the fact that I didn't want to be taken over again, and spoke quickly and hoarsely, "Summai water!" Water spurted out from my wand's tip and I place my lips on the arch of the stream of water. Refreshing coolness spread from my lips and tongue to my whole body. I felt like I could take on Mt. Everest. Or, I could if I had something along the lines of decent clothing. I stared at my nightgown. It was a bit see-through and the palest silky material possible.  
  
What would people say if they saw me in this outfit walking in all grubby? They'd probably think I'd been raped or something. I giggled (something I don't normally do) at the thought of anyone ever wanting me.  
  
Its not like I wasn't desirable. I had the longest hair in Hogwarts, as it was so long that it fell, straight and burning red, to my knees and a pale complexion over slender facial features. My eyes were a bright icy blue, the same color of my parents, and I was very skinny.  
  
The fact that I was poor, however, made me undesirable to anyone. Stupid money! I cursed in my mind and got to my feet again to walk. After three hours of switching between running and walking my toe collided with a sharp stone and blood poured on the earth. The red liquid was soaked up eagerly, as if the earth was as thirsty as I had felt. I glared at the stone and continued to walk, though limp was a much better word in this case.  
  
My foot was throbbing in its pain. I decided to do something I have never done before. I decided to steal. "Accio broomstick!" I cried and heard a resounding whiz in the air. A broomstick, albeit not the best, but a broomstick halted in front of me. I ran my fingers along its length in a worshipful way and climbed on.  
  
Thank God for wood and straw, I thought suddenly as it lifted off the ground and I soared over clouds and into the azure depths of the sky. Soon my feet stopped hurting and all I felt was the whisper and caress of the winds against my cheeks. Broom riding had always made me feel free. When mom and dad weren't around I'd sneak out of the house and take Ron's broom for a spin. Its not like I was hurting anything. Much. I grinned for the first time in weeks and made the broom go faster in the general direction of what I hoped was Diagon Alley. If muggles saw me, well, so be it. It's their loss anyway. I was flying, they were walking. I didn't care. Yet.  
  
I twisted the broom in a barrel roll and laughed, delighting in every thing. The broom swirled its speed into the sky. Then it crossed my mind again about the date. "What year is it?" My mind said aloud, "It can't be over a hundred years, and it certainly can't be 1967. Maybe it's between that. Maybe its." For once, I forgot about not cursing, "Oh shit! What if its 1942?" I screamed to myself suddenly, forgetting where I was.  
  
In reply the broom went faster. I barely gripped the wood tighter before it zoomed in the direction of Diagon Alley. With a crease of worry etching itself into my forehead I looked down and gasped. There, below me, was the whole city of London. Diagon Alley was in London, therefore it was good to be there and therefore I had seen London from a height but never without something impeding my fall from my safety haven on wood. I mean, the flying car and its windows gave a pretty good view but not as good as this one was giving me. I attempted to put my hand up to my mouth to withhold a stupid gasp.  
  
Silly mistake, I thought as my grasp on the broom lessened and I slipped.  
  
I thought of everything that had happened so far. "Ah, yes," I said calmly, trying _not_ to panic under any circumstance. I never was any good at it though. "Falling from grace. Or in this case the broomstick. Just right on time, Gin. Get out of the household for once and look what you've done. Job well done, Gin. All is right with the world!" Then I screamed, a high-pitched shriek that echoed and ripped into the blue expanse of sky. Terror began to sear into my lungs and throat, and humiliation spread into my soul like butter on toast.  
  
Thoughts began to ripple in my mind as I thought about everything so far. One memory of mom and dad trying to protect me from people when I strode through Diagon Alley last summer. Another memory of them telling me to keep my wand handy at all times no matter what. Two memories of Ron telling me some jokes. Five of Percy going on about how great Mr. Crouch used to be before he died. This is it, I thought as the wind tore my hair and skin. I fell onto something hard and everything went black. 


	3. Riddle, Tom Riddle

River-Star: Thank you my reviewers! *Blows kisses to everyone* I LUV YOU ALL! There, I've said it. It wasn't so hard. Oh, drat! I'm disappearing! I knew this would happen. *Grumbles for many hours before finally realizing that she's holding reviewers up with rambling* Oops! Sorry bout that! Uh, right. Thanks all the reviewers!  
  
Foreveranelf: TM? I'll have to find that.. If I can. Could you tell me were you saw that? *Realizes that she's being an idiot* Oh, yes, feel free to ask me any question in the world; I like answering questions for some strange reason.  
  
Adelianna: Ah, yes, Dratted Monkeys of Ra! (Inside joke everyone, bear with me for a moment) I hope you like this one as much as my others. Feel free to criticize. I like it when people criticize me. Just don't flame! *Laughs nervously and looks around shoulder for flames* J-j-just, ha.ha, j- j-joking!  
  
Fallen Angel of Darkness: Me? Abandon something?! That's preposterous! I would never ever do such I thing to my fics! And I am happy that you would like me to read your story. I feel honored (don't you dare think that I'm getting sappy cuz I'm *tears start to well up* okay, now you can think I'm getting sappy.*sniffle*) to be asked to review such a thing. And feel free to point out my mistakes. I like it when people do that. It makes me know that my stories, err, fanfics, aren't perfect. So feel free!  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Needless to say, Tom Marvolo Riddle (A/N: did I spell his middle name right, anyone?) was having a tough time finding his spell books this year. Just because his grandparents and his father thought that he shouldn't study magic, didn't meant that he wasn't supposed to grab the arrangement of books this year. At sixteen, Tom was a handsome youth with black hair that was so dark it was nearly blue and his eyes were the same color blacks with flecks of chocolate brown in them. He was well-muscled, due to the fact that his father tended to think that if his son had failed in blood, he would make up for it in the work-out room. His skin was paler than the clouds above him but that pale skin was holding a tint of red currently due to the fact that he had walked quite a long way to get to Diagon Alley and if possible, he had gotten there faster than usual with his assorted running skills. Now if only he could find the right books, he thought painfully and remembered that it was only his fifth year that he wasn't yet going to learn the beautifully advanced spells of the sixth or seventh years. He was still a low fifth year with as much ambition as ten kings owning small kingdoms. He wanted everyone to see that he, Tom Marvolo Riddle, could pass them up, despite being a half-breed child of a filthy mudblood and that silly mother of his.  
  
A growl of disgust rose in his throat as he thought of his father. A handsome man, true to tell, but not a very handsome heart. Mr. Riddle seemed to hate his son for what he was; something that Tom himself could never get over. Sometimes Mr. Riddle would try to embed his ideas into his son with fist and foot and those in themselves left painful reminders to Tom. Soon though, Tom thought, I will get rid of him. I won't have to cower anymore at his gaze or agree to everything he says. I will soon be so powerful that I will be able to make _him_ cower to me. If he's still alive.  
  
Suddenly, Tom let out a hoarse laugh that made every witch and wizard within hearing look at him funny. Realizing that their gaze was on him, Tom stopped and smiled reassuringly. Everyone scanned him quickly, as if he were nothing, and then turned their benevolent gaze to their respective business.  
  
Tom glared at everyone and played a game that he often did whenever he visited Diagon Alley. He started to guess which ones where muggles, which ones were purebloods, and which ones were half-breeds like him. "Pureblood, muggle, muggle, muggle, muggle, half-breed," he looked up at the sound of a scream, "Falling girl with red hair that is most likely a pureblood." He looked back down to his horizontal view than did a double take. "Falling girl with red hair that's most likely a pureblood? Cripes!" He screeched, and the girl fell in his waiting arms, nearly breaking them as he stumbled forward. Surprisingly, his muscles were well wrought this time. They withstood her feather-light weight and only yelped a little in protest to gripping this fallen pureblood girl.  
  
He looked down at her face, and smirked. "Well then, I have a fallen angel." He said as he scrutinized her snow-pale face, blood red hair, and the lightly dusting freckles on her nose. Her body was slender and petite, good for a girl like her, he decided, and her face was delicately sculptured to look like an elf's or some sort of princess's from a fairy tale. Tom groaned tiredly and decided to be good for once and help her back to consciousness.  
  
He took her into an inn and told the bartender for a room. The bartender, a beefy man with pockmarked skin and missing an eye, smiled to show yellowing teeth that were dizzily crooked. "Why, course, laddie? Takin' a dip with yer girl, are ye?" he asked, his smile growing wider as he took in the view of the angel's (Tom mentally slapped himself and fixed it) the girl's face. "Would no' mind a piece o' 'er meself, I would no'!" Tom grimaced and shifted his weight uncomfortably.  
  
He didn't know what this man was asking. No one should possibly hear the things that were coming out of this man's mouth. Not comfortably anyway. Tom looked down at the angel (Tom mentally smacked himself again and fixed it) girl. "Err, yeah." He said, knowing that this man would probably want that answer or else he would withhold the room. "And could you send up a basin of cold water and a cloth as well. For washing of course." He added quickly at the man's inquiring gaze.  
  
The man smiled again and hollered, "Beth! We got ourselves somebody 'ere that needs a good ol' room. He an' 'is girl are, err, tired and they need some water an' such. Take 'em to their rooms, hon!"  
  
Instantly, as if waiting there the whole time, a pudgy woman with sweat-dampened brown locks and dirty clothes came out from a door that Tom hadn't noticed. He watched the woman, no doubt the bartender's wife, waddle over to them and smile, also showing yellow crooked teeth and a few missing ones. Nonetheless, her eyes held none of the perverse thoughts her husband had and she wiped her hands on her dirty apron before coming over to them. She looked at the redheaded girl and clucked her tongue. "Young ones these days," she muttered huffily before gripping the girl in her arms and relieving Tom of his burden, "Always gettin' into trouble 'fore thinkin' bout it. But no' to worry, young one, we'll take care of yer girl, nice and swift. Wake 'er up fast we will." She wiped off the frown from her mouth and smiled to replace her blank look. He found her utterly too loquacious to his liking but that could be fixed soon enough when he was older and allowed to do magic outside the school.  
  
The woman hefted the redhead to one arm and held out her hand, "I'm Mary Beth, wife o' the owner o' this inn. What be yer name, laddie?"  
  
Tom cleared his throat. "I'm Tom. Tom Riddle, Miss." He clutched the hem of his pockets and thought of fiddling with his wand as he usually did when he was nervous. His wand was something that calmed him. Like a promise, it was always there and unbreakable until you put effort and force against it. It was his promise. The promise of glory and power.  
  
He grinned evilly but the woman seemed to think it was for her. She grinned back and looped her hand upwards to capture a sweaty strip of hair and tug it behind her big ears. "Now then, Mr. Riddle, I'll take ye to yer rooms now, shall I?" She started up a stair that Tom had not seen before (A/N: yes, people, like the door, Tom's not very observant at this point in time, but he will become so, don't worry. *grins*) As Tom walked up the steps, he looked around and tried to ignore the ugly squeaks from the steps as they clambered their way up. He noticed a few pictures, mostly those of a cleaner, younger Mary Beth and her husband. There was one of a girl with long red hair that hung in waves down her back. Her face was angular, but in a beautiful sort of way, and her eyes held a steely gaze that looked like clouds after a storm. She was wearing a light blue robe over a wizarding dress with flowers over it.  
  
Tom stared a long while till Mary Beth came back, noticing that he was not with her, and watched him. "That be our daughter, Coleen. Such a beautiful girl, married now, with two little girls o' 'er own. Used to have a boy, but 'e died some time ago. Said it was because some filthy mudblood didn't like 'im, she did. Coleen's 'ever been the same again." She paused dramatically and wiped a tear from her beady blue eyes and then continued to blunder up the steps.  
  
Finally they came to a room. " 'Ere ye are. Home sweet, home," Then she giggled (which positively scared Tom out of his wits) and said, "Fer now anyway! I'll be right up with yer water, Mr. Riddle." Then she did a quick curtsy and left.  
  
She had left the girl on a bed that was more like a lumpy mattress and old pillow on some wooden boards. The wallpaper, a yellow flowery design, was starting to peel and the floor creaked with every step. There was a bathtub in the corner with a torn cloth hanging over it to prevent people from seeing in, but even that was starting to mold a bit. The corners of the room held piles of dust and the pictures on the wall were all crooked. Needless to say, the place needed to be tidied up.  
  
Tom thought of fixing it up himself but then smack himself on the forehead and cursed. "I'm a fifth year! I can't do magic out of school yet!" He snarled and then reached into his pocket for his wand. For a moment he fiddled with it, a horrible habit he had gotten into ever since he got it, but tired of it and stood. He crossed the room, ignoring the protests the floor made and knelt by the girl. Unconsciously, his hand brushed her cheek and forehead as he stared at her. "Who are you?" he whispered so softly that only she would have been able to hear. "Why did you fall from the sky to me?"  
  
At that precise moment, Mary Beth had come back with the cold water and the piece of cloth. "Mr. Riddle," she said cheerfully, " Help me with these things, will ye?" He obliged, taking the bowl from her and placing it on the ground next to the bed while she struggled to kneel. When she finally managed it, she dabbed the cloth in the basin and started to dab the girl's head with it. "Reminds me of my Coleen, she does. More redheaded than 'er, but 'as same height an' such as Coleen. Merlin's beard, this girl looks like 'he stepped out of a fairy-tale, 'he does. Not surprisin' though, as most purebloods like us do but still," she whistled a short tune under her breath as she continued to wet the girl's forehead.  
  
The girl on the bed shuddered as Mary Beth dropped the wet cloth on her head and dabbed some more. To Tom's amazement, she awoke and sat straight up. Then the girl stared at Mary Beth with fey green eyes and asked, "What year is it?" with worry evident in her tone. Then she looked to her side and saw Tom.  
  
River-Star: Ooooh! I left you at another cliffhanger! Oh well, short chapter, fun to read. *Shrugs* Which reminds me to ask you all to review since I feel unloved and like nobody likes my fanfic. *Sniffles and tries to plaster puppy face on* Please, everyone? The more reviews, the fast I cut out a new chapter. So review! 


	4. The Talented Mr Riddle

Okay, here are the people I want to thank a lot. If I missed you last time that I thanked people I am totally sorry and I feel bad about that. I hope I don't miss you this time.  
  
Adelianna: Again, can't express how much I enjoy your reviews. And again, I hope this chapter suits to your liking. One thing that I would like to clear up. Actually a couple of things in fact. Don't you dare roll your eyes and say that you know what I'm talking about because I'm going to do it anyway. First of all, Tom is in his fifth year because all the students (well, most of them) are eleven when they go to Hogwarts. I checked. Plus in Chamber of Secrets it says that he was searching for the Chamber for five years, and if he started looking for it immediately in first year (that would count, in my view, for one year) he would be in fifth year. Another thing (this is really screwed but I'm going to do it anyway since it is a fanfic in which I can stretch reality, err, the reality of books to my usage) I have made it so the Mr. Riddle took his son in after first year to try and 'whack' the magic out of him. Frankly, it obviously didn't work and little Tom Marvolo Riddle becomes the beloved Lord Voldemort that we all know and love. (Sarcastically of course!) Also, Tom doesn't know he is prefect until he gets to Hogwarts and is pulled aside by Dumbledore to accept his prefect badge.  
  
Foreveranelf: Sorry, I was ignorant before. That was a typo. It (as in the M) was supposed to an R. So sorry!  
  
Catt: I'm glad that you liked this. I hope you like this chapter as well. Feel free to criticize me. I don't accept flames though. ^_^  
  
NOW! WITH THE CHAPTER!!!!!! (This is where you all scream and say, "YEA! Finally! And all that good stuff)  
  
Chapter 4 (everyone scream the Hallelujah chorus.or not.)  
  
Ginny's POV.again  
  
The blackness faded in my vision and I could see clearly again. The first thing I saw was the ceiling, brown wood that was looking like it would fall on me any second. With puzzlement deep in my mind and burrowing further in, I twisted my neck to look over to my left, a water droplet slipping from my head.  
  
I saw a worried woman, plump and with brown sweaty hair, look down at me. For a moment I thought of asking her who she was but priority ripped the question away and placed another in its stead. "What year is it?" I asked with a small, worried voice. She looked down at me puzzled.  
  
Being myself, I felt the heat of another body closer to me and looked up a bit. My eyes met the sight of a black haired, black-eyed youth with the palest skin in the world and a well-muscled body. I shot up from my lying position and slammed myself, back first, into the wall behind me and screamed. He looked just as equally shocked.  
  
The woman looked at both of us with a strange look on her face and then she sighed. "Well, there goes the whole romance idea." And then said to me, "Calm down, lassie. It's only 'im who rescued ye. Now then, don't scream no more. My husband will 'ave a field day otherwise. Now then, lassie, what's yer name?" Her voice was kind and it nearly soothed me into silence.  
  
I screamed softer and then had my voice drift off into some abyss of silence. "I asked first!" I said quickly and was answered by a quiet chuckle from that bastard Tom Riddle. I glared at him, resisting the urge to scream again. My hatred of him was quickly building out of my anger.  
  
The woman laughed. "Alright, now, missie. I'll answer yer question, right enough. Just hold on now. It's the year 1942. Now, what's yer name, lassie?" her accent carried into all the corners of the room.  
  
"No! I-I . . . It can't be. You're lying! It has to be sometime else. This is wrong. I shouldn't have touched that! I knew it!" I shrieked and tears began to flow down my cheeks. The woman and Tom both looked at me in shock and confusion. There was a bit of fear in the woman's eyes if I had ever noticed what fear looked like.  
  
"Well, it is, lassie. Now tell us yer name 'o we can tell yer parents where ye are." The woman said and reached and hand forth to place it gently on my shoulder. I shrugged it off and moved off the bed to place around the room, ignoring the protesting boards of cracked wood beneath me.  
  
"I-I-My name is Virginia." I paused knowing that I might change history and the past with my decision. My heart, soul, and mind scurried to look for a surname that no one I knew possessed. "My name is Virginia Rushton. I'm a orphan." Or at least I am now, I thought grimly and then whirled around out of my pacing and faced the woman, "Who are you?" I demanded, making sure that a certain cold quality was buried deep into my tone.  
  
The woman flinched and then suppressed her fear with a quick smile. "I'm Mary Beth, wife o' the bartender o' this inn. And this is Mr. Riddle. 'E helped ye, 'e did. I would think that ye would thank 'im rather than scream a storm in 'is face." Her voice was mild and solid, as if reminding her child that they had to.  
  
I shivered and stepped closer than I wanted to Tom Riddle, bastard of the world, and said, "Thank you, Mr. Riddle," with the words cutting with resentment and hatred. Mary Beth frowned and her eyebrows rose in astonishment at my manner. I glared at him and walked toward the near- decaying door. It seemed that the further I got from Tom, the lighter the weight seemed on my shoulders.  
  
Finally I reached the door and looked down. I gasped. "Oh shoot!" I muttered. My nightgown was dirtier than ever. The gown looked like a Dalmatian with brown spots instead of black. I turned back to the woman. "Uh, can I borrow some clothes, err, robes, Mrs.?" I asked, slightly reddening in my face.  
  
She grinned, showing off yellow, crooked teeth that reminded me of the tips of fences. I suppressed a shudder of disgust as she walked past me. "I'll be right back with some clothes fer ye, Miss Rushton. Why don't ye make some small talk with Mr. Riddle why I'm gone?" She curtsied and exited the room.  
  
Instantly Tom was at his feet and in front of me with a confused look on his face. I was whacked by some memory so frightening that I nearly screamed.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"Tom?" I asked, clutching the hem of my robes desperately as he circled around me like a vulture over a carcass. "Tom? What are you doing? Tom?" He had stopped in front of me, his eyes scrutinizing my face. I gulped inaudibly as he stepped even closer to me.  
  
Then he leaned in so that our faces were so close that only a centimeter impeded our lips from touching. "What are you afraid of the most, Ginny?" he whispered, lips moving steadily to my ears. "What gives you the most nightmares at night? What makes your blood curl in your veins and your heart beat fast when you lie alone in the dark?"  
  
His voice tickled my ear, causing me to shiver. I pulled back and stared at him defiantly. "I am afraid of nothing, Tom!" I said, quickly.  
  
Maybe a bit too quickly. "Are you afraid of me, Virginia?" He hissed and gripped my arm between his strong fingers.  
  
My blue eyes widened and I tried to disguise the look of fear in them. "N-no. I'm-I'm not afraid of anyone, Tom." I said loudly. My heart was beating too loud. He might hear it, I thought and tried to get away.  
  
"Wrong answer, Ginny." He hissed with a smirk and drained so much energy from me that I fell to the floor in front of the statue of Salazar Slytherin, blackness inking my vision to nothing.  
  
*End flashback*  
  
My eyes widened as Tom stepped even closer to me and touched a lock of my red hair. It was matted and dirty. "You might want to take a bath as well," he said plainly, as if he didn't remember me at all.  
  
But what if he didn't, I asked myself in my mind. What if he doesn't remember you because the diary isn't present now and he can't remember? It's only the beginning of the school year. I can change him, I decided and nodded without flinching towards him.  
  
"The bath is over there. I promise I won't turn around or anything. I'm just going to, err, take a nap or something." He paused and scratched the back of his head then shot me a glance. I winced as his eyes dove into mine and scratched into the core of my being. "Why did you scream when you saw me?" he asked, a tint of red overcoming the tiny flecks of chocolate looking brown in his eyes. My eyes widened again as I shook my head. "Answer me with words, Virginia!" He demanded, the red starting to show with his irritation.  
  
"I-I . . ." I hesitated as he shifted closer, "I was just shocked. I thought that my nightgown was see-through and having a guy in the room didn't really . . .it didn't really look right." I finished weakly. The story didn't sound good enough for my ears and I swallowed thickly.  
  
Tom pressed his face close enough to remind me of when he had hissed his words in my ear long ago. "If you know something about me, tell me now, before I decide that I don't like you, Virginia." His eyes glowed mysteriously.  
  
I swallowed again and shook my head. He grabbed the lock of matted, dirty hair that he had touched a few moments ago. "Is that a 'no I will not tell you,' or a 'no, I have heard nothing, Mr. Riddle?' Because I don't take kindly to threats, Virginia. You, above all people, should know that from this encounter and soon to be many others." He smirked.  
  
I stuttered in my fear, "N-no, M-M-Mr. Riddle, I've not heard anything bad about you." That hasn't already been said in my time, I thought grimly as I watched in horror as his eyes turned back to the black- brown mix that they were. "Tom?" I asked in a shrill voice as he began to circle me, "Tom? What are you doing, Tom?"  
  
He stopped and stared at me. It was a replay, I thought, my horror rising, and I have just slipped up.  
  
"How do you know my name?" he demanded and pushed himself close to me so that his breath fanned my face. His eyes were glowing red again. Oh, Ginny, I thought, what trouble have you gotten yourself into?  
  
I stared at him and opened my mouth. "D-d-didn't Mary Beth s-s-say it?" I asked, panic rising. Little beads of sweat were gathering on my brow, I could feel them acutely, just like his body heat.  
  
His irises grew much more crimson at the lie. "No!" he hissed and gripped the roots of my hair between his fingers. "Where did you hear it, girl?" he demanded, his voice becoming harsh and ugly. "Where?" The pale hands began to move back and forth, dragging my head along with them. Pain etched itself into my skull as I opened my mouth to scream. And then something happened. 


	5. Killer Kindness

River-Star: After that . . . riveting cliffhanger I will now continue to chapter five.  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Mary Beth waddled into the room, her eyes noticing me, clamped up against the wall, and Tom on the other side of the room. How he had gotten there so fast, I had no clue. Apparently Lord Voldemort was not only strong but fast. Too fast, I decided and narrowed my eyes at him. He glared back and I shivered as I saw a disappearing sliver of crimson in his gaze. "What's up with ye 'ow? Mr. Riddle givin' ye a scare, me dear?" she asked, her accent rolling over my fear like water over stone, "'Ere's some things fer ye, Miss Rushton. Don't take 'em too lightly 'now." She handed me an emerald cloak, a pair of pants and a silver shirt. "Thought ye might be in Slytherin, with 'im. Ye can tell 'e is 'cause 'e looks evil. Ye, lassie, ye look like an angel, God bless yer 'eart." She patted me on my head, something that got a snicker out of Tom, and departed.  
  
"You still need to take a bath, Rushton." He said to me, "I'm going to take a nap. Be sure to cover yourself with that bathing curtain. I don't want to see anything white, after all." He smiled charmingly at me. I shook my head when he turned back and lay on the 'bed,' wondering how he could be positively evil one second and the next charming and loving.  
  
"Don't worry," I murmured, "I wouldn't show you anything for the world." As he flopped on the bed and buried his face in the pillow and instantly fell asleep, I pinned the cloak up to the ceiling with one chunk of wood that had peeled slightly off. It would cover me, I decided, as I took off my clothes and came out of the bath. I peered into the tub, noticing that everything within three inches of it was moldy and crusted with grime. With a grimace of disgust I turned on a series of taps and cold water, a type that was almost a clear green, poured slowly.  
  
As it neared the top of the tub I bit back a squeal of protest and took off my gown, careful to stay behind the cloak, and hurled myself in, trying to ignore the cold of the water. I gasped as the water ran icy fingers up and down my body. Instantly I wanted to be home, where warm water was accessible and I had clear water. Nonetheless I dipped my head back and held my breath while I worked my fingers through the strands underwater. The cold bit into me, causing me to shiver everytime I moved. Three times I dipped my hair back into the water, freeing it of knots and tangles till I could run my fingers through without wincing.  
  
Then I got out, shuddering as the air pressed on my skin and caused me to gasp again. I rushed into the new clothes and pulled the cloak tightly on me to erase any thoughts of cold from my mind.  
  
Immediately Tom was up. I suspected that he had been waiting for me to finished and not taking a nap at all. What if he had watched me? I raged inwardly, one side saying that he wouldn't, the other questioning it saying "He's Lord Voldemort the younger! Why wouldn't he?"  
  
Apparently he noted the worried expression on my face. He chuckled, something I never thought Tom Riddle a.k.a Lord Voldemort was able to do, much less smile unless out of malice. "Don't worry, Rushton," he smirked, "I don't watch girls when they bath or take off their clothes. I wait for my turn." With a scared smile I nodded and gulped when he looked away. I hoped his time with me would never come. "Hey, Rushton!" he called even though I was only a few strides away, "Let's get going. I would like to collect my school supplies now!" He spoke with emphasis on the now part. I grimaced again. "Don't you have any?" he asked with a rising of one dark eyebrow.  
  
"No." I murmured, "I don't have any money." My cheeks burned red enough to compare with my hair. I could almost see it now: Me, Virginia Weasley, without anything and having to beg the Dark Lord to get her books for her. What a cold day in hell. His smirk, if anything, grew. I immediately jumped to the defensive, cheeks turning so red that my freckles were enveloped by it like a coat of red paint. "Just because I'm a pureblood doesn't mean I have tons of money, Riddle!" I shouted. He sniggered and reached into his pocket, extracting more than enough galleons for books and robes. He dripped them into my hand, one after another, watching my expression. My jaw dropped at the glinting gold dropping into my hand. "T-thanks, Riddle." I whispered and stared at him. He shrugged, still smirking.  
  
"I give to those in need," he said plainly, as if it were a well- known fact, "Especially if you are in Slytherin." At that his eyes glowed again and I suppressed a shiver as he directed his fiery gaze at me. "Now, let's go, Rushton. I won't be caught up in throes of worship for me."  
  
I glared at his back as he opened the inn door and retreated, "You wish I would, Riddle, you wish I would." Then I departed after him. We entered a narrow staircase with a kaleidoscope of pictures, mostly of Mary Beth and the innkeeper. The stairs protested our every step till finally we exited at the bottom and found ourselves in the bar. Tom led us out of the inn and into the streets of Diagon Alley, his cloak whirling around him as a wind ripped through. With scared apprehension, I realized it was night. My mother had always said that Diagon Alley was worse than Knockturn Alley at night. I never wanted to find it but it seemed I was about to.  
  
As the night embraced my body, I hugged the cloak closer to my flesh and shivered. The nights, though warm, seemed icy cold around Tom. Soon we came upon Flourish and Blotts. The shop seemed desolate without the regular crowds but someone had lit candles inside to assure passing customers that they were there. We entered, the heat of the shop dripping against my skin and causing me to shiver again, but this time in pleasure of the warmth. An old witch looked up from a book she had obviously been reading. "Hello, dears!" she greeted us happily, "How may I help you?" Her eyes were a pale blue that reminded me of frozen water and her skin was inked with wrinkles. She was frail and small so that I could look down on her and she had a pair of bifocals on that dipped to the tip of her pointy nose. I instantly took a liking to her as she smiled to show a full mouth of white teeth, though some were crooked.  
  
Tom walked over to the witch in a brusque manner and handed her his book list. "We need all these books. Make sure that she gets them too." He nodded towards me curtly and grinned charmingly down at the witch, "Please." He added with courtesy that nearly made me gag. The witch's smile broadened as she shuffled around to get the books on the parchment list. Tom, meanwhile, had wondered off to look at some of the new books.  
  
Desperate to do something and get away from Riddle as much as possible without leaving the shop, I ascended to the upper levels of the store and fingered the bindings of some. My fingertips caressed the back of one book as I inspected its title. "Dragons and Their Habitats-All you Need to Know and More." I whispered to myself. I grinned and pulled it out, thinking of Charlie as I peeled the cover away and read the first sentence.  
  
"Dragons are thought to be the most deadly of all the creatures in the wizarding world. With teeth that are twelve inches long and claws that are twice as long, dragons are no doubt just that. Over time many stories have been told of dragons, mostly of how the ravage towns and burn crops. What most people don't know about dragons is that they are very protective and loving parents, often guarding their eggs with much zealotry." I grinned again, imaging Charlie's corrections on this book. With a lifting heart I continued to read in my head, "Many humans have captured these eggs in order to lure dragons into doing what they wish. These humans, called the DragonTamers, have often been criticized for their work of trying to do what their name implies: tame the dragons into submission. Groups of dragons have learned to be rode under the DragonTamers grip. However, not everyone agrees to this and often protestors will try to free the dragons from the DragonTamer's grip. It is well known, to all wizards, that dragons, once tamed by one person for a large amount of time, become bonded to that person. Most protestors ignore this fact and drive the dragons away from the specific DragonTamer that has raised it, resulting in the dragon's ultimate demise in the end."  
  
I stopped reading when I felt a presence near and whirled around, slamming the book closed. Tom was leaning on a table, watching me with keen interest. "You have an interest in dragons, I see." He said and smirked, "They don't allow girls in the DragonTamers. You ought to give up on that hope now while its still young. Or do you plan to charge out of here dressed as a boy and your hair cut to look like one? I assure you, Rushton, that many girls have tried that. Do you know what their punishment was?" He paused, looking me up and down in a rude manner before he caught my glare and continued, "Death." He hissed the word as it dripped off of his tongue, coated in the sadistic pleasure he had put in the word. I glared at him again and placed the book back in its place and strode along the bookrack, trailing my fingers over the bindings. Most of the books were tattered with age, some even shiny and new, but a few were in shambles and falling to pieces. As I walked I could feel his presence behind me like a jaguar stalking its prey. I timed my steps so that they would slow and he would see that I wasn't afraid. But even he knew that looks were deceiving. My steps halted in front of another book, this one about Dark Magic and other kinds other than the ordinary. I snapped the cover away from the pages and read, ignoring Tom.  
"The most well-used type of magic has always been the kind called Light. This magic, considered to be the easiest to learn, is taught in schools and to children. The magic is the most used and the average wizard or witch will have at least ninety-nine percent of their magic Light. Another type of magic, the most uncommon of them all, is a type called Dark Magic. This magic is half of the other one percent that an average wizard or witch will use. Dark Magic is often used in the Unforgivable Curses and the favorite type of most evil wizards. There is one last magic type that only one wizard in the world has. This type, called-"  
  
Behind me, Tom coughed as he peered over my shoulder and stared at the text. "What?" I snapped irritated. He was not only evil, but getting on my nerves, which only Malfoy and Snape had ever been able to do.  
  
"Just noticing that you seem very interesting in Dark Magic, Rushton," he smirked, "Any reason why?" He leaned against the bookshelf, which was (thankfully) against a wall so it couldn't tip over. Black met blue as our eyes met, one glaring, the other curious.  
  
Just wondering what your interested in, I thought sarcastically. Then my mouth opened and I said, "Because I was reading it and usually when I read something I become interested in it and want to know more. It's a necessary in reading, Riddle." I rolled my eyes and walked away from him and descended down the stairs to see the witch staring at me.  
  
"Did you find anything that you want, dear?" she asked in a creaky voice. The witch smiled.  
  
I shook my head and grinned. "All these books," I said and waved a hand to imply all the shelves in the rooms, "I would be in heaven if I ever worked here. Its hard to pick out one when there are so many of them. I keep having this tug towards every book here, like its trying to ask me to buy it."  
  
I watched as her smile broadened happily. "Perhaps I'll have you work here in the summer. How old are you, dear?"  
  
"Fifteen tomorrow." I answered with an etch of sorrow in my voice. At her inquisitive glance I quickly added, "I'm an orphan and no one ever celebrates my birthday at the orphanage. Its just a day to everyone else and no one really cares," I said distantly and frowned, as if remembering how cruel everything was at the 'orphanage' of my imagination cover-up. "My parents died when I was young, can't remember them really or any sort of connection to them."  
  
She clucked her tongue in sympathy. "Well, what's your name, dear? So I can owl you when I need to."  
  
I smiled again, bright and cheerful. "My name is Virginia Rushton, but you can call me Ginny. What's yours, ma'am?" I kept my voice bubbly with pride and happiness, as if I could be easily pleased and joyful at little things. Let her think I'm innocent and childish, I thought, I can use that. I was dimly aware of Tom standing behind me, leaning on one of the bookshelves with his arms crossed over his chest and listening attentively.  
  
"I'm Mrs. Hyacinth. Glad to meet you, Ginny. I'll send you an owl as soon as I can. Perhaps even let you borrow a few books if you want, though I doubt you'll be needing my books compared to the Hogwarts library types." She cackled, high and loud, "My children went there and whenever I sent them a book, they would send it back saying they have it at the library. Let's hope I can find one that will help you that Hogwarts doesn't have." She cackled again and I smiled wider. I could learn to love this woman, I thought, if I never get out of here, I can ask her to adopt me or something. Then, suddenly, Mrs. Hyacinth's eyes got blurry and she wiped away a tear as it slithered down her cheek. "But they were killed long ago. Both were auror and they got caught in cross-fire. Both were hit with the killing curse instantly." A grin crossed her features as she wiped away another tear and gripped the books she had found, a copy for each of us, in her bony hands that were covered in age-spots. "But now I'm rambling. I've been keeping you and with it dark like this and you two no doubt needing to get your other things, robes and such, I'm holding you up." She ignored Tom's sigh of relief and rang up the price of the books. "That'll be thirty galleons and five sickles." She said and dropped the books in bags.  
  
Tom smiled at her again in his revoltingly charming way and grabbed them in one hand, the money for them in the other. Instead of thirty galleons, he gave her forty. She smiled in response. "Thank you, dear. Bless your loving heart, son, bless you." I watched over my shoulder as she dropped the money her pocket and went back to reading her book.  
  
As we walked out, Tom turned to me. "You know, Rushton. You might not be a bad sort after all. With the right training, you could be great." He smirked at my glare. "And I would take the pleasure of teaching you, if you wish." I glared fiercer.  
  
"I need no one's help." I said in a determined fashion and jogged to keep up with his lengthy strides. He chuckled, something that made my temper flare. "You don't think I can take care of myself?" I asked, anger ringing in my voice. He laughed harder. "Just because I don't look threatening doesn't mean I'm not." I raised my chin a little as a beam of moonlight shot across the rooftops and illuminated the path. We came to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. As we entered I smelled expensive perfume and before me appeared a witch and wizard. The wizard had a long beard, curly white, and a stomach to make him look like Santa Claus. The witch was thin and had a pinched look on her face as if she thought we were both disgusting. At the sight of Tom, however, the pinched look was replaced by a smile. "Mr. Riddle!" she cried, "My best customer and most frequent! What may I get you and this young . . ." She paused, looking me over with distaste heavy in her gray eyes, "lady?" she spit out the word, like it was new and vile now.  
  
Tom grinned, noticing her tone. "Tatoria," he smirked (why does he always do that, pray tell?) "This is my friend and you may treat her the way you would me. Fit her in something nice, preferably long and green. Maybe even blue. I'll take my regular fit with the black. I'm paying for both. We also need school robes, make sure they fit nicely. I don't know her measurements so you're going to have to measure her up." He smiled at the obvious look of nervousness in my face. Suddenly my stomach had gone queasy. I glared at him, ever the rose with thorns, and stepped into the woman's waiting arms. She held me in front of her, taking in my green cloak, shirt and pants with another quick snapping gaze of disgust.  
  
"Well, obviously your chest is going to be hard to fit." She sniffed. I blushed, consciously of the fact that I had grown, and not just up either. "But the rest of you would fit in anything. What is your name, child?"  
  
I gulped, expecting some sort of rebuke as I whispered, "Virginia Rushton, ma'am." She sniffed again and said, "Well, your first name won't fit you after you try on some of the things I have in store for you and Tom sees you." I blushed again, noticing the fact that Tom was right there and watching with a self-satisfied grin. I was certainly going to make sure that he lost a few of those pearly whites this night.  
  
"Follow me," She snapped and led me into a dressing room with metric bands, a stool, and loads of colored cloth. I was quickly measured, judged to be something smaller than anyone she had made clothes for. She whipped out her wand, held it above three pieces of green cloth and whispered something under her breath. There was a sound of a knife slashing air and she held out her arms for a green cloak. It was emerald green, cleaner than anything I had truly possessed and had an air about it that commanded attention. Which was something I didn't want.  
  
I twirled around as she instructed me and found that there was a slightly different feel of cloth on my skin. My blue eyes met green as I stared at the green silk she had placed on me with a whisk of her wand. I hadn't even noticed! The dress was long, swirling between my ankles as I twirled around for her delight. It shimmered too, as if some beads of water were held on it. It had a medieval look to it with sleeves that fanned out at my wrists and sloped into each other down at my waist. The whole thing was trimmed in silver thread, which seemed to make the square neckline even more noticeable, not to mention what it concealed. Or was trying not to anyway, I thought as yet another touch of rogue seeped into my cheeks. She clucked her tongue in approval and then placed the green cloak, along with its silver serpent clasp around my neck. That was hemmed in silver as well. "Fabulous," she whispered, "You'll do Tom Riddle proud, Miss Rushton. And the green just brings out the flecks in your eyes. Now let's try the blue, then the silver."  
  
So we did. The silver was lined in white and the blue was lined in silver. They both were the exact same thing as the green but each seemed to draw out on of my qualities better than the other. Or so Tatoria said with relish. She didn't let me see a mirror so I had no idea what she was talking about when she spoke of qualities and such. By the time the three dresses were done and fitted properly my feet hurt and I was bored stiff. Tatoria seemed to feel a need for trying out every color on me. The black seemed to do it for her though. She squealed in absolute delight (despite the fact that the dress was still the same but a different color) and brought both the wizard and Tom in.  
  
I stared down at my feet as they inspected me over. Tatoria, who had decided I was her favorite girl to dress up and should now be her new pet, told me to look up properly. I did and was shocked. The wizard was looking more closely than I would have liked and Tom was gaping at me like there was no tomorrow with his mouth hanging open. Tatoria then summoned a mirror up.  
  
Hell! I thought. My mouth even dropped open. The black dress, still like the green type, seemed to bring out a darker side of me that seemed seducing. The red trim reflected off my hair, making it seem like blood was dripping off the hem. Over all, I looked like a flaming shadow queen. My face was paler than normal, due to the fact that I was tired. My standard blush of embarrassment seemed to radiate off my skin, making it seem like I was glowing and my hair was in the standard wave affect with general side effects of rose-smelling strands and the random curl around my face. My eyes seemed brighter and bluer to contrast the red of the hem. Again, I looked like a flaming shadow queen.  
  
Tom stumbled in his words for a moment, paused in his inapt speech, then said coolly, as if he had seen better, "You can get her this dress and the other kinds that I asked for. Make sure her school clothes fit well enough." With that he walked out of the room, leaving me alone with an overzealous Tatoria.  
  
With a grin, she replaced (with a flick in her wand naturally) my newest bunch of clothes with the ones Mary Beth had me borrow. "Tsk, tsk," she muttering and shaking her head in despair, "Such clothes covering such a beautiful body. You must get some better clothes soon, Miss Rushton, or that beauty will fade without honor." She shook her head again and led me back to the original room that I had entered into, bringing the dresses and robes with her. She handed them to Tom, whose arms were already full of clothes from the wizard. Seeing that he was having difficulty, she took them from him, stashed them in a bag and handed them back to him. "Take care of her clothes for her!" she commanded him, "She is a rose that needs tending. Nurture her beauty and it will grow, guaranteed." Tatoria winked at us both and ushered us out after Tom paid the right amount.  
  
The next place we went to was the cauldron shop, full of black and silver cauldrons and commanded by a stern looking wizard with very thick glasses hanging off the tip of his nose. For some reason this brought a bit of humor into my mind as I looked at him. I fought back a laugh as Tom showed me the best cauldron that I could get and bought it for me. For some reason, the gold in my pockets seemed to weight me down more. As we exited the shop, me with a new cauldron at hand, I reached into my pocket and extracted the gold he had given me and shoved it into his hands. "You realize that I haven't been able to use any of this. Therefore, you get it back in full." For a moment he stared at me, letting what I said sink in.  
  
Then he shook his head and said, "Sorry, but I give to those in need and I don't take it back. You haven't got any money, Rushton, so you get that for free. Have fun while I pay for everything." His hand closed mine and pushed it back to me. I nodded, slightly shocked that the future Lord Voldemort could give to anyone without uttering a Unforgivable Curse first.  
  
With everything done, Tom and I walked back to the inn, preparing to go to King's Cross tomorrow with the new supplies.  
  
River-Star: Okay, I won't post chapter six until I get my review status from ten to fifteen. Got it? I'm not trying to be a jerk, people, but I like reviews as much as the next person, so I'm being greedy. Forgive me and review please. I would also like it if you guys put in your opinions on what needs to be changed in this as well. Not to mention what you guys would like to see more of. 


	6. Drat you, Riddle!

River-Star: Okay, now that I've gotten fifteen reviews I can continue. Just so that you guys know: I'm sorry for the wait. I had to spend the night at one of my friend's house due to the fact that we missed a movie we were going to see but her dad insisted that I spent the night and they fixed everything up with my uncle and aunt so that I could. FYI: yeah, I live with my aunt and uncle. They're now my parents due to an adoption. My ma's too sick to take care of my bro and I and my father is somewhere in this world so I have no idea where he is and I don't care really. So I live with my uncle and aunt and now my bro and I are their adopted children. Which is really funny because on my new birth certificate it says that I was born a week before my new parents' wedding. ^_^  
  
Thank to:  
  
Dany: Thanks! That really made my day!  
  
Sirius' Diamond: I'm glad you like it! I hope you find this chapter as appetizing as the rest.  
  
Firefly of Hell: Wow! I must be good if I'm up with those two! I've read those two and I'm proud that I stand with those.  
  
Michaela Delsinne: I found it funny too. I'll try to put more funny stuff in this chapter if I can.  
  
Mina: I'm really proud now. Point out an mistakes if you'd like. I feel like I need to improve somewhere so you can advise me in some stuff like this.  
  
Spikez-gurl: Oh my! Since you seem to like this so much I'd best get on to the rest of this chapters and figure out a satisfying ending to this.  
  
Shanna: I'm sorry! ;_; But I posted my excuse up on the top but I suppose you don't like excuses! I'll try harder, don't worry!  
  
Kagami: I try hard so that the characters fit in with the setting and problems. Trust me, I had to read the second book and the fourth book again just to make sure all my info was right. I think that Tom is actually in his sixth year but I suppose I can tweak it just a bit so that he was born in some winter month or something. I think you might not like that though. But, the past has been written, I cannot change that without anything really bad happening.  
  
Eiez: Interesting name. May I ask where you got it???  
  
Trix: Thank you sooooooo much! I'm joyful that you thought my fic was good enough to review it.  
  
Adelianna: Friend, obviously I can't rewrite that since everyone now knows that he's in his fifth year and not his six. If I could put an emoticon on this it would be turning red with embarrassment.  
  
Chapter Six (yes, finally, I know, don't flame me please!!!)  
  
For hours it seemed like we walked, never really getting anywhere, just passing by places. Finally we reached the inn and entered. Tom held the door open for me, the perfect gentlemen in times of prosperity. Prosperity my butt, I thought as I entered it with a glare at him, we're nurturing the future Lord Voldemort, bad arse of the century and no one gives a care! See how long the prosperity lasts.  
  
As I entered, I realized the place was fuller than before. Much fuller. Men looked up from their tankards of beer and ale and stared at me. I froze, knowing that their gaze was assessing me up and tallying how hard it would be to get me in a bad spot. Hundreds of eyes upon me, slowing undressing my form, trying to tell what exactly was underneath my coverings of regular cotton and cloak, and each dismissing me like I was nothing to stare at unless it was in my torso or my face.  
  
Then the door slammed behind me and I jumped five feet in the air. I whirled around, my face blushing madly at the thought that anyone had seen my discomfort and my eyes met with Tom's chest. With a snap of my eyes, I found his black irises and glared at him. He sighed, breath fanning my features like wind going through a canyon. "Must you always look at me with such distaste," he murmured, "You're like a cat with its tail being stepped on too much. You don't trust anyone, do you?" I felt eyes on my back, my legs, everywhere at once, but most of all the ones that were roving over my face.  
  
I snorted, "I can trust. I just don't trust you." My voice was coated in scorn and challenge, as if daring him to try and question that.  
  
His eyes glittered mischievously as he sat down in a seat next to two brawling men with muscles that were taunt with danger. I hesitated and sat next to him, blue eyes staring at the wooden tabletop with a large hole in the center from age. When I looked up again, his eyes were staring intently at me, as if wanting an answer to the question I had raised, the challenge he wanted. "Give me three good reasons to trust you," I said, my eyes narrowing slightly.  
  
He shrugged gave his order to a girl that was scantily clothed in cheap silk and said, "Are you hungry, Rushton? No? Well, then. I guess you're going to have me give you an answer, aren't you? Alright then. I have power, wealth, and loyalty of many. Often, it doesn't take much for people to trust me or anyone around me. You, however, are proving quite a challenge." I stared at him. He smirked at my gaping expression and continued, "I like you, Rushton. You don't give your trust up easily. And anyone that deserves your trust has got to prove himself or herself first. That in itself demands respect. I have no doubt that whoever does gain your trust also gains your loyalty; something that I'm going to guess is not easily won either. I'm going to take it that your loyalty is not discarded easily, and neither is your friendship. I need loyal and trustworthy people in my inner circle of friends. You just happen to fit that mold quite well, seeing on how I only have two girl friends. Three reasons you should trust me: I would never hurt you willingly; never betray you; and I'll always be there for you. I think those three are good enough to qualify for whatever test you've put up for me." His food arrived. Like my brothers and Harry, he devoured it with a few bites and then stared at the bowl as if he would like more. Then he shook his head as if ridding himself of a vision and whirled his head to look at me.  
  
I giggled for the first time in front of him. All over his face were traces of food and soup. He raised a dark eyebrow and frowned. "What?" he said, "I was hungry."  
  
Without thinking I grabbed a napkin and wiped around his mouth and his cheeks. Then I caught myself and withdrew my hand quickly, blushing furiously and using my hair as a shield. But all shields could be shattered so I said quickly; "You had food all over your face, Riddle. I think you need better manners." I clambered to my feet quickly and walked over to the place where the stairs were the last time. Then I remembered that he had all my new stuff so I turned abruptly around.  
  
WHAM!  
  
My nose met with his chest as I whirled around and my butt collided with the ground as I fell. "Dratted monkeys of Ra!" I said loudly, causing men to look up and stare at me. "Riddle!" I shouted, "Don't do that!" My hand cupped my nose and the heel of my hand touched something sticky and wet. I realized my nose my bleeding so I tried to prevent the continuous flow by pinching it with my index finger and thumb. I glared at him again for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. "I deed a kleedix!" I said quickly. At his blank look I sighed inwardly and said, "Dine! I deed a hadkercheif! Someding do top da fow!" He nodded and his hands retreated into an inward cloak pocket to withdraw a white handkerchief with a rose embroidered in the corner. I stared at it for a moment, then at him, then back at the handkerchief, wondering why in the world the future Dark Lord had a freakin' handkerchief in his cloak pocket?  
  
He sighed and pressed it into my left hand, rolling his eyes and saying, "Yes, I do more than just talk. I sneeze too! Take the dratted thing before you bleed over me, please!" He exclaimed with extra emphasis on the please part.  
  
I scowled as best as I could and took the handkerchief, placing it under my nose and watching cross-eyed while the cloth turned a garnet wine color. I sighed as I withdrew it from my nose and placed a clean section over my nose and watched again as it filled up with my blood. I looked up once to see Tom smirking at me. "You know," he said observantly, "People can die from nosebleeds. Take Attila the Hun for example. He died of a nosebleed on his wedding night in January. So if you die, I think I've gained something." My eyebrow rose in question. "I get my money back." He said and grinned.  
  
Go figure.  
  
After three more handkerchiefs that Tom willingly provided from his pocket (they were all containing a rose in the corner) my nosebleed stopped and I could talk. The whole time I had been walking up the stairs to the room and finally I had reached the top with a clean nose. My head hurt from all of Tom's antics to make me smile or something other than stare cross-eyed at the tissue and watch my nose blood fill it up time after time. I don't know why he did. Perhaps he didn't want me to run into a wall and cause him to laugh too much or something.  
  
Either way, we reached the room and he opened it while retrieving his handkerchiefs and placing them back in his pocket, a different one from the others. After all, it's not exactly good to put four bloody handkerchiefs in the same pocket as the others.  
  
When the room opened, everything was okay looking. Basically, still the same as before sadly. The first thing Tom did was take off his cloak and flop on the bed. I raised my eyebrow again. I didn't know the Dark Lord flopped on things. That was a newsflash to me. "I'm tired too." He protested at my look. Then something must've hit him (mentally, I mean) because a look of horror and reluctance came across his dark features. "Um, Rushton?" he asked, "Do you mind sleeping on the floor? Just for one night, I mean." He was blushing as he said it. My brow raised higher and then lowered when I realized what he was talking about.  
  
"Yes, I do, actually. I would prefer it if wood didn't stick in my back while I slept while you get the bed, even though that feels like stones." I retorted, an ironic look coming over my face.  
  
"How about we flip a coin?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"NO!"  
  
"YES!"  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Are you afraid to lose, Rushton?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you afraid that you might lose?"  
  
"God, no!"  
  
"Then yes!"  
  
"Fine," I shouted then whispered under my breath, "oversized maggot!"  
  
"I heard that," he said lazily whiel digging in a pocket for a coin. Finally he twisted out a Galleon and placed it in his palm. "You flip or me?" he asked. I shook my head and snatched the coin out of his hand. "Heads!" he called as I made it fly upwards.  
  
Closing my eyes I wished for all my might that I might get the bed and he get the floor. Then there was a small crack and I looked down. Nothing was there! I snatched like glances all over the floor, as did Tom. Nothing was there! It had disappeared! Then a dreaded feeling came over me and I looked at Tom. He gazed back, dread filling his features. With a gulp, we both looked up and saw that the coin had stuck itself in the ceiling, neither heads or tails. Tom cursed. I just stared at the ceiling and the coin stuck in it, my mouth dropping towards the floor.  
  
"Holy macaroni and cheese!" I exclaimed, "Is that possible?"  
  
He looked at me in shock. "Apparently so."  
  
I frowned then walked over to the bed. His arm went up and stopped me. "No! It's mine!" he cried.  
  
"No its not! The coin is stuck in the ceiling with both sides vertical! No one wins! I have as much right to the bed as you do!" I said with alarm, "I want to sleep in a bed for once! You can take the floor."  
  
"No!" he said.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"YES!"  
  
"NO!"  
  
"YES!"  
  
"FINE! I don't care what you do! I'm still taking the bed." He smiled to himself as if it was the cleverest answer in the world and flopped back down on the bed, his eyes on me to see what I was going to do.  
  
"Well then," I said, lifting my chin slightly, "I'm taking the bed too!" I sat down on the edge of it (since that was all I could take) and crossed my arms in a stubborn way. For a few moments of silence we stayed that way, me with my arms crossed, eyes closed and chin lifted stubbornly, and him sprawled out along the bed, his arms crossed as well, and scowled into the wooden wall at the other end.  
  
"Fine, Rushton." He hissed and scooted his body over enough to allow me to lay down on my side against him. Personally, I thought he was begging for a fist in the mouth, but I did nothing and just sat there, arms crossed and chin high with my eyes closed. "You know what!" he exclaimed, "There!" He moved over me, allowing me at least half. Finally satisfied I lay down, my back to him, knowing his back was to me.  
  
"Give me the covers." I said firmly, "I'm cold and I would like to sleep. Give me the covers." Then I realized that we were laying on them. With a cross expression on my face I squirmed until a fistful of cloth was in my hand and yanked. Nothing happened. I yanked harder. Still nothing happened. I was angry now. "Riddle!" I shouted, "MOVE! You're laying on the covers!" He shifted a little but only enough that I could worm my way under with only my waist covered and nothing else. "There has got to be a better way," I muttered and scrunched my body closer to the mattress for warmth. It didn't work and I shivered as a brush of cold touched my body with dismembered fingers and claws. "Damn you, Riddle." I muttered, another curse word that I have never said. My innocence was going down the drain.  
  
"I love you too, Rushton, now go to sleep." He murmured lazily. I obeyed and shut my eyes tightly. The curtain of darkness swirled over my vision reluctantly and I slept a haunted sleep.  
  
River-Star: There you go! I hope that was both entertaining and interesting. I need to know if you guys want fluff yet or if you think the relationship between Ginny and Tom is going okay at this speed. If you want them to kiss, tell me and I'll let them kiss in the next chapter. If you don't want them too, tell me and I'll tally up the votes. I'm not the audience so I don't know what you want. More fluff, or more humor and stuff? Your choice! Review please! 


	7. Littlest Pet Shop, that's who! anyone re...

River-Star: Now then, chapter six has been done. Let us go to chapter seven. Depending on the votes you guys have done . . . You'll see.  
  
Thank to:  
  
Sanji: I answered your questions! Yea!!!! I helped someone inadvertently for good! Oh damn, my left hand is deteriorating. *Watches as hand turns into dust* I really need to fix that. Cool name by the way! I like it. ^_^  
  
Spikez-gurl: *rubs hands together and grins evilly* heh heh heh . . .  
  
Eiez: That's awesome! I had a huge panda bear once. Named him Spots. My dog chewed him up though. Poor Spots . . . Then I got a gigantic duck that I named Squeaky (it squeaked when you squeezed it) and the dog chewed that up too. I guess having six dogs and lots of stuffed animals isn't good. -_-U  
  
Shanna: I have no life, trust me or else this chapter wouldn't have been as done as it is.  
  
Note: _word_ mean's emphasis on that word.  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Something was hurting me. Something was wrapped around me so tightly in panic that I couldn't breathe. My heart was pounding its own music in my head so loudly that I could have danced to it and never missed a beat. My eyes snapped open and I saw-  
  
Wood. Just plain wooden walls wrapped in paper that wouldn't last a decade. Still, something was pressed around me. I looked down and saw coils of slinky material coating my stomach and wrapping gingerly around my neck. Wait a second? Slinky material? I screamed.  
  
The snake's beady eyes just stared at me dreamily; as if it had done the procedure so many times that it was bored. The long slinky coils that I thought was clothe or material was shiny and silky scales that most would call its skin. A pattern of black and red directed itself leisurely down its back and head till it met with its eyes and there it was just black. I stared at it, wincing as it tightened itself around me and raised its head up so that its jaw became unhinged. The beady eyes were no longer lazy but excited at the thought of me in its stomach. I cried out as the fangs tipped with poison and danger etched towards me. For some strange reason I couldn't move. I couldn't bring myself to kick and pull this snake off me. Was it fear? No, I realized, it was worship. I watched as it fangs grew ever closer to my throat and I tipped my head back, ready to surrender to this beautiful fatality. My eyes closed, like a woman waiting for her lover's kiss, and I thought, let it be painless.  
  
There was a sharp hiss from somewhere in the room and I wondered, there's two of them. How wonderful! Then the snake reacted by uncoiling itself gingerly from my body and snatched itself into a corner. "You know," came Tom's leering voice, "Most people would kick it off in a second and scream bloody murder. Why did you?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Then don't answer me," he said with a sigh. Then he smirked again. Oh, how I hated it when he smirked. "I wonder how you would deal with it if it were a hundred times the size and length of that. Come, Rushton, we must go to the station quickly. The train will be leaving in three hours and I want to get there early to introduce you to some of my friends. I laid your clothes out on the foot of the bed. I'll wait outside."  
  
"Don't like what you see then, Riddle?" I asked sarcastically as he left, thinking that he hadn't heard me. I walked over to the clothes, the green dress and cloak from yesterday night and stroked the cloth lovingly.  
  
"Oh, no, I just have manners, Ruston." He answered with another smirk. Then the door closed and I stared at it as if expecting it to grow arms and legs and do a tap dance. Then I twisted my body around, coming face to face with the black snake. I jumped then stared at it. Its eyes were a strange golden color that had flecks of black in it.  
  
"So pretty," I whispered and raised a hand without noticing. It stroked the snake's silky skin, a funny feeling really. White against black and red, I thought with a grin as the snake, instead of trying to bite off my hand, leaned into it and wrapped itself around my fingers. I grinned and laughed as its forked tongue traced the scents on my skin. After a few moments I stopped touching the snake and turned serious. "You're going to have to get off my hand, dear. I can't dress with you lingering on me like static-filled clothes." He/she didn't move. I sighed. "Oh, come off it! Come on now! I have to get dressed." He/she still didn't move.  
  
This was going to be a very long three hours.  
  
For a few moments I tried to persuade the snake to get off my arm. It didn't work. The snake just moved ever closer to my face and when it reached the destination, it draped itself across my neck and laid there, eyes unblinking (A/N: snakes don't blink because they don't have eyelids. Go figure!) and staring straight into the corner of mine. "You know, Riddle's not going to like it if I don't get dressed soon. I haven't even got my shirt off and its been . . ." I computed the time in my head with a slight squinting of my eyes and shouted, "Holy macaroni and cheese! It's been thirty minutes!"  
  
I heard a chuckle from the other side of the door. Then Tom's stupid, arrogant voice echoed, "Well done, Rushton. You do have a brain." I could here the smirk in his voice.  
  
"Ha ha!" I said in a sarcastic tone, "Very funny. Hey Riddle!" I called. I could tell he was listening. "Your stupid snake is hanging around neck and doesn't want to get off!" I heard him laugh again. Well, I for one didn't find it funny at all. Of course, I was also the one with a large black and red snake draping around my neck so that might change the situation.  
  
Tom sighed. "Are you decent?"  
  
I snorted. "Well, let's think for just one second here. I've got a something pound snake hanging around my neck, I've just spent thirty minutes trying to get it off and I haven't been able to move. What do you think, Riddle?" I heard him chuckle again and decided that next time he chuckled, I was going to make sure he got a free toad in his bed.  
  
The door opened and in walked Tom with a green shirt on and black pants. I stared at him pathetically as he strode over and whispered something in the snake's ear. The snake hissed back in what seemed like a depressed tone and slid off me and onto the floor. I gawked at the snake then at Tom and then back at the snake. This day was getting weirder and weirder by the moment, I swear! He smirked at me. "Reassured now, Rushton?"  
  
"God, no," I said and when he raised a dark brow in question I continued, "You're still alive." He scowled and walked out of the room, following the snake while hissing all the way. I sighed gustily and then turned back to my clothes. In the time it took for me to say the whole speech Dumbledore had said last year I had finished putting on the dress and had just placed cloak and shoes on when another knock came on the door. "Come in." I said loudly and Tom walked in again with his black cloak billowing behind him.  
  
He stopped as he saw me. Then he looked me up and down; something that made me blush a deep crimson. "God, Rushton," he whispered, "You're going to make your husband happy someday." Apparently he thought I hadn't heard him.  
  
"Glad you think so," I murmured and strode past him without meeting his eyes.  
  
Tom followed me quickly, remembering to close the door on the way out and motioned towards the snake in the corner, trying hard not to be seen. I smiled at it and said, "Hello, sweet." The snake seemed to think this was a written invitation and slithered over to me then slid up my beckoning fingers and onto my shoulders to drape itself across my neck like it had earlier. I laughed as its tongue grazed my neck in a taste of what scent I was carrying now. Then I turned towards Tom. "You can speak to snakes, can you not?" I asked and when he nodded proceeded to say, "Does it already have a name?"  
  
He hissed for a moment and then snake let out five sharp hisses then one long one that sounded as if it were pleased by the question. "She says that she is called 'RedShadow.'" He watched as I tried to copy what the snake had said.  
  
On the long hiss I messed up and made it a bit shorter than she did. Evidently Riddle was pleased by my try and when the snake hissed again he said, "She says you do well for a hatchling but it needs more work."  
  
I glared at him and placed my hand on the snake's back. RedShadow hissed again in pleasure and I started to walk, one hand always on the snake. We went down the steps, into the common room, walked out of the entrance and began to stroll down Diagon Alley.  
  
There were more people out then usual, I thought, as we began to walk through the crowd. King's Cross was a five-mile walk from here. Though I often ran that much at home (having brothers seems to help that fact) I didn't want to go that far in this dress. Tom seemed to have that exact same idea though.  
  
He directed me into Knockturn Alley (even worse than Diagon Alley at night!) and placed me into a shop with gigantic tarantulas in the windows. "Bilbin's Magical Creatures," he said shortly and walked down one of the aisles while waiting to be served. "All types of stuff here. Not just animals too. I found her," he nodded at RedShadow, "here and bought her for five Galleons. Good deal on my part."  
  
I stroked RedShadow again and watched, fascinated, as a tiny monkey with a large tail that was bigger than its body tried to struggle out of the close glass case. "My God!" I exclaimed, "What is _that_?"  
  
Tom whirled around, cloak flowing in and around his ankles and looked at the case, then shrugged. "It's a Leikia," he said as if it were obvious, "They eat meat and only grow to be three feet tall. I wouldn't advise you getting one though. They tend to eat children and their own masters if you keep them too long." He walked away, leaving me to stare at the Leikia with an open mouth. "Close your mouth, Rushton, you're attracting flies." Since his back was turned to me he didn't see my best glare ever given to him.  
  
I shut my mouth as told and followed him, managing to keep it closed despite all the interesting (weird is more like it!) creatures that we passed. Finally we reached the end of the aisle and I decided that I should go somewhere else. Anything to be away from Tom Riddle, I thought happily as I walked down another aisle opposite to the one he was taking.  
  
I reached the end of that aisle without getting anywhere near scratched or maimed, possibly much to Tom's disappointment. Then I whirled around and started down the aisle again, eyeing everything more carefully. There was only one thing that caught my interest and that was a tiny tiger animal that was so small as to fit in the palm of my hand. I gaped at it for several moments before I moved on. But my foot collided with something and I nearly fell down. All I've got to say is thank you, whatever god or goddess is up there for putting something in the way of my face to stop me from doing something embarrassing. Like, oh say, run into an invisible pillar? Oh, wait, already did that. Never mind. I scowled as I smashed into the invisible pillar, which soon turned into a visible pillar and proceeded to stay where it was while I ran into the dratted thing. As soon as I got my bearings in place, I whirled around, looked down, and glared at-  
  
The cutest little monster I've ever seen.  
  
I stared dismally at the wolf cub that was blacker than night itself. So black as to be blue! It looked at me and then howled. It was a long, lonely howl of one that hasn't seen the sun or compassion in days. One that seemed to echo my own heart. I reached down, took it in my arms and held it in front of my face. Its only motive was to lick the tip of my nose as quickly as possible without stopping. I laughed loud enough to make Tom peer over the aisles to see what the heck the girl with red hair and an eye for trouble could possibly be doing now. All I could see were his eyes, and messy thatch of black hair. That sight in itself was funny. No Dark Lord should ever peer over aisles while raising an eyebrow to see what their charge is up to. That thought alone made me laugh harder than ever so that I had to sit down on the floor with the cub in my arms, still licking me like there was no tomorrow or end to its saliva (which seemed to coat my nose by the way.)  
  
Tom apparently thought I was in or was going to be in big trouble if I was howling with laughter over nothing since he came around the corner striding like he was in the corridors of Hogwarts with his cloak fluttering behind him. There was a very serious look on his face and a glint of amusement in his eyes as he reached the pillar I was sitting against and stared down at me. He didn't find the pup as cute as I did but he must've found it a bit okay looking if he didn't stop it from resuming licking me.  
  
I stared up at him, my eyes wide and looking as if I were a child with its hand caught in the cookie jar. "Hi, Riddle," I said innocently and then did a big no-no: I said a phrase that was in my time but not his. "What's up?"  
  
The amused look wiped away and he stared down at me in obvious confusion till I murmured, "I mean, what's the matter?"  
  
That seemed to suit him just fine because he nodded and spoke. "What are you laughing about, Rushton?" he asked curiously, amusement back in his eyes. But there was something beneath that layer. Something looking like suspicion. I panicked for a moment. What if he knew? What if he found out?  
  
I tried to smile up at him and looked into the black wolf pup's gigantic arctic blue eyes that reminded me of ice. "He kept licking my nose and it, err, I mean, I . . .uh, well, I thought it was, err, cute . . .?" There was no denying the question that silence was willing to provide. I even thought that excuse was pathetic.  
  
Tom's eyes narrowed dangerously as he looked down at the black pup and then at my nose, which was covered in dog slobber, by the way. "If you say so . . ." he drifted off then reached down and touched the cub behind the ears and whispered, "If you get in trouble here, Rushton, so help me God I will make sure that you will always check around the corners before you walk them."  
  
I snorted, disdain obvious in my breath. "You! Riddle, I doubt you could hurt a fly."  
  
Tom arched a dark brow and stared at me, still lightly amused by the whole thing. "You'd be surprised, Rushton. I can charm," he traced a light finger across my jaw until I tried to bite him, "and I can maim." He gripped my chin roughly with his fingers and sent a piercing gaze at me that made me shiver with fear. "Don't underestimate me, Rushton, or you will find yourself in a world of hurt." With a moment of silence, his eyes turned deep garnet again then back to black. I stared wide-eyed at him. "And I thought you were intelligent, Rushton."  
  
I growled deep in my throat and pushed his hand away from my chin then glared at him. "Looks came be deceiving, Riddle. Don't underestimate me either." The pup whined between us and I looked down at him, happy to look anywhere but Tom. My hate for him seemed to grow into a loathing at that moment. Nothing could change my mind. Tom Marvolo Riddle was pure, disgusting evil. Nothing could change that either.  
  
I heard his retreating footsteps and rubbed my jaw. It seemed as if he had left a line of flame were his finger had traced and then a block of ice cold where he had gripped harshly. I hate you, Tom Marvolo Riddle. I hate you with all my soul!  
  
The cub whined again, bringing me away from the emotional tidal wave I had been swept up into. I stroked his fur for a moment, noticing that RedShadow had disappeared from my neck and was probably outside, hiding in a corner. "I wish you were a cat," I said sadly, "That way I could buy you and take you to Hogwarts." The cub just whined again and climbed up to my chest, where it planted its forelegs against my breasts and began to lick my mouth and nose enthusiastically, as if wishing the same thing. I laughed again; holding back tears, and kissed the top of its head. "You're like me, aren't you?" I asked, looking him straight in the eyes, "You're an orphan. Did they slaughter your da and mum? They nearly killed my da, but they needn't have worried. He's gone now, same with ma and my bros. I had six of them you know." I spoke to the wolf as if it were a person. "There was Bill, he had lots of piercings and long hair that ma would always yell at him about and tell him to cut it. He never listened to her though. Then comes Charlie. He's a DragonTamer and a very good one at that. He has a few burns on him, not a lot, but enough that it would make any normal mother worry. And there's Percy. He's Mr. Perfect on everything so no one can blame him. Then comes Fred and George. They're twins, you see, so I can't really separate them. They always get in tons of trouble. At school, they reigned supreme in all the pranks and stuff. And finally there's Ron. He's always with Harry Potter and he's afraid of spiders. They did a lot of stuff that no one else could have done. They saved me once. Well, Harry did. But Ron was part of it too. They all have red hair and blue eyes like me." I sighed, thinking of how worried they must be at the moment. I mean, it's not everyday that a girl vanishes from home without a trace and goes back to the past and meets Lord Voldemort, the future Dark Lord and King of All Evil.  
  
A coughing noise came from behind me. "Fun as it is to listen in on your troubles, I think I might wish that you remove yourself away from that pillar." I stood up and turned around so quickly that I barely noticed the pup had wound up in my arms (a defensive gesture to the wolf, of course) and I was glaring at the person.  
  
River-Star: oh! Who's it going to be? Is it Tom? Is it some crazy weirdo? Is it some teenage hottie that we will grow to love? What's going to happen? Is it more trouble for Ginny Weasley? Is it time for her to realize that she likes Tom? Will I ever shut up? Will they ever kiss? You decide, folks! Tell me if you want more fluff/plot/arguments/trouble/embarrassing moments in the review and I'll see what I can do! 


	8. Train Ride and another argument

River-Star: Gosh! I am sooooooo angry at my computer! Yesterday (which would be the 6th of July for those who have screwed up calendars like I do (it says it December!!!!)) Anyhow, I saved it, worked really hard. I had about fifteen pages done! That would've been the longest chapter yet too! And then I woke up the next morning to work on it some more and my stupid computer said that it wasn't valid or the path to open it wasn't clear! ARGHHHHHH!!!!! I hate this stupid computer! *Imagines whacking it with a hammer over and over again with evil maniac smile on face and shivers* Okay, since this would be the fifth computer that I would have done that to, I won't do that. Everyone the likes this fic (if anyone does like it) would be excruciatingly angry with me, and then I would be in lots of trouble. Don't get out the pitchforks and the torches yet folks! I gotcha covered! I wrote this down really fast at one in the morning (Don't EVER EVER had caffeine at eleven at night when you are supposed to be in bed! That is my phrase of wisdom today!) and worked for four hours on it till my aunt came in and told me to go to sleep before I collapse on my computer and make everything all horrible.  
  
Thanks to:  
  
Sanji: Thanks for emailing me. Like I said before, I have no life so you really aren't interrupting anything. Do you like Evanescence? I love those guys! Err, girl too. Right . . ..?  
  
Heart of Ice: Interesting name, like all the rest of them on ffnet. Mine was originally Queen of the Dark but too many people had a name like that so I changed it to River-Star. You like?  
  
Adelianna: NO! Not the Dratted Monkeys of Ra! Anything but that! *Gets an image of Monty Python's The Holy Grail in mind and starts to laugh* As well as your bros. God should've killed them while he had the chance, in my point of view.  
  
Firefly of Hell: I'm honored that you think so. In the pride of that, you may tell me when you think Ginny/Tom should happen. There will be some in this chapter, though not a lot.  
  
Crystal Magic: Gosh! I really don't know, actually. Maybe you can help me. I think Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff since Slytherin, and Gryffindor have been used so many times. I'm going to experiment with the houses in this fic and try putting her in Ravenclaw. What do you think?  
  
Josh: Thanks! I'm trying really hard so that it doesn't go along with the rest of the fics like this. It will hopefully have a surprising ending for everyone! ^_~  
  
Aurora Noctifer: Heh heh heh! Your review is possibly the funniest that I've ever gotten! Perhaps I should change the summary to something a bit better. Tell me what you think I ought to put up there because I'm clueless on how to draw people in. *Grins sheepishly*  
  
Michaela Delsinne: Enter Richard Potter!  
  
Angelike Riddle: heh heh heh . . .  
  
Note: _ around a word means emphasis, like the last chapter, people!  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
I glared at the gigantic man in front of me; my arms protectively snaked around the wolf cub. At the same time of being cold, I was also assessing.  
  
The man was huge, but widthwise, not lengthwise. Around his huge belly was a dragon leather vest, dyed a deep red because once dragon blood touches something and soaks in, it never comes out. His hair was long, dark, and greasy enough to make Snape's look gelled. It hung in strings around his tan, dirty face that held the half-finished mold of a nose, a single lip that showed signs of gnawing and tiny specks of brown that were probably his eyes.  
  
Eyes that happened to have enough size to fill themselves with my chest.  
  
Nervous at his gaze and how it seemed to be mentally undressing me, I placed the pup in front of my chest as if it were shield and glared harder. "You need to, err, move, lassie, unless you want me to knock this pillar's shield up around you as well. I mean, I doubt you want to be invisible for the rest of your life, miss, unless someone runs into you."  
  
I nodded grimly and strode down the aisle, trying to get as far away from him as possible without seeming rude. The next aisle's rim came quickly and I walked into it, happy to put at least on thing between that man and I.  
  
Oh crap!  
  
Tom Riddle stood staring at me as if I had just dropped out of the sky. But his eyes were filled with something accustomed to pity. That in itself filled me with rage. I wanted no one's pity! "Why aren't you staying with your brothers then, Rushton, if you have so many?" He asked curiously. I shook my head. "I'm sorry for your loss. What happened to them?"  
  
"Why do you care, Riddle?" I retorted angrily, "The past is the past, nothing changes it, nothing ever will. What happened to them is locked away and it never coming out again!" He winced at my tone, a bit taken aback by my behavior. But why should he care? He was going to ruin my life later on, even he should know that. I glared at him, and then lowered my gaze from him to between the pup's black-blue ears. "Just get the things that we need and go. I don't want to spend another minute here when the man is staring at me like that."  
  
With a slight lowering of my arms, I dropped the puppy onto the ground. It stood there a moment, fazed by not running and walking around for a while. Then, with an obvious look of disappointment, looked up at me then wobbly padded away. I sighed, feeling everything I had done and been proud of fall off my shoulders and plummet into the ground with so much force that I could imagine the crack of tile and stone. The only friend I had was gone.  
  
I had no friends, I thought sadly. "Wrong, Rushton," Tom said with a smirk, "You've got me, and that in itself is enough to kill five people." How right he was! I thought and then realized that I must have said my past thought aloud with horror.  
  
I rubbed my temple tiredly. "Just go and get what we need."  
  
"Alright, Rushton," he said, his smirk growing wider, "You don't need to throw a fit." I rolled my eyes as he walked away. A few moments later he was back with a leather pouch betwixt his slender fingers. He fiddled with it as he turned around and said, "Come, Rushton." I didn't budge. "Rushton! Come here!" he hollered. Not even a fidget. "Heel!" he bellowed angrily at me.  
  
My trying patience with him snapped. "No! I am not a dog, Riddle! I am as human as you and I demand to be treated as one! Just because you have charge over me for a short amount of time doesn't mean that you can do whatever you want to me! I am a free person with a free mind and I _demand_ that you treat me as such! Now, ask politely." I crossed my arms over my chest stubbornly and glared at him, waiting steadily.  
  
I could hear his exhale of hatred. "Rushton," he said between clenched teeth, "Come here." Then, with slight hesitation and in a high pitched tone that suggested embarrassment, "Please."  
  
I smiled graciously. "That's better." This time I followed his black-cloaked back as he strode out of the shop, resentment still tight in his steps. We walked through Knockturn Alley in silence for several minutes, him still fiddling with the leather pouch's hem suspiciously.  
  
As we reached a dark alley and turned into it I attempted in widening my knowledge. "So, err, Riddle," I said nervously, "What's in the bag?"  
  
"Something to help us get to King's Cross faster than ordinarily walking or running would." He said plainly. I mentally slapped myself. I still knew nothing that I didn't already know. But it was clear that Tom wasn't going to excuse his answer and give me a better one. Rather, as we reached the end of the alley, he opened the bag, thrust his hand in, withdrew it and gripped my hand to drip some light green powder into it. "There!" he said proudly and took a handful for himself, "Now, we don't have any water so this may be a bit hard to swallow."  
  
My eyes widened as I observed the contents my hands held and I finally was able to discern what it was. "Riddle!" I whispered harshly, "This is Coranimag! It's illegal!" He rolled his eyes and was about to stick his handful in his mouth when I knocked it out of his hand. "Riddle!" I cried louder, "Stop! This is illegal! We shouldn't be doing this!"  
  
A flash of crimson went through his dark eyes as he saw the powder flit away into the air. "Dammit, Rushton!" he yelped, obviously enraged by my actions, "Now I have to take another handful. Stop being a baby and stick it down your throat already!"  
  
As he reached in again, I raised my hand, warning him that I would strike if he did it again. "Tom Marvolo Riddle!" I shrieked, "It's illegal! I'm not doing this and neither are you!" Suddenly a hand was clamped down over my mouth and I shouted, "Mmphf hma mpha!"  
  
"Shut up, Rushton!" He cried, "Or keep your voice down, we'll get in trouble if anyone sees us." His eyes were panicked and a bit surprised at my horrible behavior. "Now, then," he whispered harshly to me, staring straight into my eyes, "Are you going to keep your voice down if I let go?" I could see the inner struggle in his eyes that said he just might cram the powder down my throat himself depending on my reaction. So I nodded and he let go, turning his hand into the bag to withdraw more green powder.  
  
"Which is exactly my point!" I yelped, "If someone sees us, we are so dead!" He raised a black brow at me in sardonic humor and stared at me for a moment. "Do you have to be so difficult?" I cried, "This is illegal, Riddle!"  
  
An amused glint in his dark eyes and a smirk emerged on his face. Gods, it took all my strength not to lunge and knock the wind out of him. "Are you a," he paused dramatically, "chicken?" I could see the gears working in his head as he tried to decide whether he really should just clog my throat with both his fist and powder. Oh hell! I thought, what have I gotten myself into?  
  
I scowled, placing my right hand on my hip and glaring at him with all the darkness in my innocent heart. Needless to say, he didn't even blink. "I am NOT!" I shouted, forgetting my little promise with him about being quiet, "I just don't want to get caught!" Honestly, since when did the future Dark Lord lose all common sense?  
  
"Chicken!"  
  
"Moron!"  
  
"Idiot!"  
  
"Jerk!"  
  
"Stick!"  
  
"Snowman!"  
  
"Hufflepuff!"  
  
"Gryffindor!"  
  
"Snail!"  
  
"Marmoset!"  
  
"Weasel!"  
  
"Liar!"  
  
"Loser!"  
  
"Pessimistic overbearing poodle lover!" I shot back. That weasel  
comment really struck low!  
  
"Hey!" he cried out, "that's more than one word!"  
  
"And your point is?" I asked, mirroring his trademark smirk. In  
response he reflected my past scowl. "Ha!" I crowed in triumph, "Two  
points for Ginny; zero for Riddle!"  
  
Suddenly he grinned. It was an unmerciful grin; the type that meant the future Dark Lord was about to cause trouble. And not just in the near future, folks! "Rushton, you take that green powder in your palm and I'll give you a hundred points as well as a kiss." He said quickly, eyes glinting with profit. (A/N: Think Izzy in the Mummy Returns when he says, "O'Connell, give me that gold stick there and you can shave my head, wax my legs and use me for a surf board.") "Deal?" he put on an innocent look with black puppy eyes and quivering bottom lip.  
  
Oh hell! I thought, whoever thought Lord Voldemort wasn't cute as a kid sure needed glasses! I said against my will, "You know, Riddle, it is possible to be _too_ innocent. Either way, no deal."  
  
He stopped giving me a pleading look and smirked. "So," he said softly (dangerously!) "Virginia Rushton _is_ a chicken."  
  
I scowled again. "No, Riddle," I retorted, "I just don't like the thought of your pessimistic overbearing poodle loving lips on mine. Cut off that part of the deal and you can do whatever you want to me," seeing a new glint in his eyes I hastily added, "Except touch me and kiss me."  
  
He snorted again. Something very unlike the dark side of him. "Rushton," he said, "You make up the weirdest things in your little mind. I was actually thinking of trying some of our new spells on you this year."  
  
My blue eyes rolled themselves. "Wow, Riddle, you are _so_ creative that I think I might just publish a book about you." My sarcasm was a shield to my abrupt fear. He could cast an Unforgivable Curse on me, for the gods' sakes! I mean, he's _only_ Lord Voldemort the Younger, future Dark Lord and Emperor of All Evil and Destruction. How much harm can he _possibly_ do?  
  
He smirked again and I briefly imagined my hands going around his skinny, pale neck and watching his face turned bright blue. "Fine, I cut off the part of kissing you. That was a joke by the way, Rushton."  
  
"Deal."  
  
He smiled happily. (A/N: Voldemort . . .smiling . . .*shivers*) "Good!" he cried, "Now just tip it down your throat like so." He demonstrated withdrawing his hand from the bag with more light green powder to chug it down his esophagus. Then to my abashed horror, he changed from human to animal in a matter of seconds. As I watched I felt what food I'd ever consumed clog up in my neck.  
  
"Oh gods, Riddle!" I whispered hoarsely, "What have you gotten me into?" With a quick prayer to anyone whoever had enough of a sense of humor and direction to place me here, I tilted my hand and head back and shuddered the powder down my apprehensive throat. For a second nothing happened. My eyes stayed the same, as did my facial structure and my body shape. For what seemed like an eternity I stood there, back to the alleyway's entrance, a strange look of expectation and disgust on my face.  
  
And then, _everything_ happened.  
  
The ground, once safely below my eyes, rushed up at me. My eyes widened at the corners, my nose elongated itself into a snout and my ears rose to a point. My hair became long enough to cover my whole body like a secure cloak and my hands and feet scrunched themselves into padded, hairy feet the size of my clenched fists. Then a spot on my butt grew outward. Yes, grew! That long part of my flesh was coated in hair quickly and wagged busily around the floor behind me.  
  
"Oh muffins!" I sighed, but it came out as a whuffle of wolf breath, "I am now a canine." I looked up, expecting to see Riddle as a serpent or a pest. My furry jaw dropped in surprise. He was a wolf too!  
  
And a very handsome one at that!  
  
Mentally I slapped myself with disgust. Ew! I told my mind, I just had the shortest crush on a relative to a DOG! But it really wasn't my fault. Tom was tall, even for a wolf, with night black fur and onyx dark eyes that glimmered with secrets untouched. His stomach and under torso were paler than diamond dust as well.  
  
He smirked. "Rushton," he greeted in my mind, "Nicely done. Took you long enough."  
  
How the hell was he still able to smirk as a wolf? I tried for a moment to puzzle it out and finally thought loudly, "Go scratch yourself, Riddle."  
  
The black wolf winced at the human translation for it. (A/N: not sold here!) "Ouch!" he yelped in mock pain, "Honestly, Rushton, do you always leave the thorns on your roses?"  
  
I bared my sharp, hard teeth at him in smart-alec grin. "Always," I growled, "It keeps pests away."  
  
His ears dragged themselves away from me as he leaned a bit into the shadows. "As much as I'd like to argue with you, Rushton, we've got to get to King's Cross now." My wolf head bobbed in a discernible nod and I followed him to the entrance of the alley. He crouched down, hackles raised in a challenge to whoever was passing by. With a short glimpse of me, he pushed his furred shoulder into mine, heaving me into a pile of ash. "Roll in that for a few moments, Rushton. Somebody might think it a bit odd if two wolves, one black and the other red, were walking down Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley together. They'd suspect something."  
  
I rolled my blue eyes at him and sarcastically snarled, "No! You think?"  
  
He smirked again in wolf form. "Yes, I do think. What do you do?"  
  
I growled deep in my throat but obeyed anyway. Actually, rolling and getting dirty in ash was kinda fun. In a perverse sorta way, that is. "I learn, acknowledge, respect and obey!" I said with false cheerfulness.  
  
"Don't get smart with me, little girl!" he snarled, eyes flashing crimson as he scanned the streets for anyone and I finished rolling. He inspected my work then gave a furry nod. "Good enough come along, Rushton." Then he paused for a moment and added, "Please." My tail, black now and bushy enough to make Hermione's hair look straight, twitched in silent happiness. Then we started moving through the entrance and I followed him for what seemed like hours through Knockturn Alley. No witches or wizards were they're yet, a world's record if you ask me.  
  
Just as we entered the edge of Knockturn Alley and was about to twist into Diagon he turned towards me. "Don't move until I tell you to, don't do anything stupid and above all: Don't get into ANY mischief. I know you more than you know yourself, Rushton, and you are continually getting into trouble. Stay close to me and follow every movement that I make." I squirmed a bit, uncomfortable about how his eyes were glittering like rain on a spider's web. "Now come."  
  
He led me through a small crowd of teenage witches, leaning into the shadows barely but enough so that no one knew where he was or what he was. Then he paused as we were passing an old wizard that looked to be in his fifties. His auburn hair and blue eyes sparkled as he talked to a young witch in her twenties about school teaching. I studied him for a long time before Tom had to turn around and nip my front paw. "Heel!" he muttered under his doggy breath and I did so, following only because it was necessary. Somehow, I felt like I knew who that wizard was.  
  
Behind tall racks of owl cages, animal habitats, and herbal showcases we crept. Somehow, I couldn't dismiss the feeling that this was immensely wrong and I shouldn't be doing this. But in a way, it was too fun to miss out on. The only problem was the wolf instincts. Sadly, the wolf part of me wanted to feel skin between razor sharp teeth, to hear the screams of dying people and the blood oozing thickly on the ground. It hungered for meat. Fresh meat with the garnet liquid of life inking down its throat. But my human counterpoint restrained the wolf with visions of wolf head on a pike or a wizard shooting the furry container my mind was in. Perhaps even making it envision a family of cubs to soothe it down.  
  
As we skulked along the shadows, etching our paws into the cold darkness, I thought of the wolf's instincts and then mine. What if these instincts could be sucked into the crevices of my nature forever? Would it affect me often? Would I be cursed enough to give in? What if I did this transformation all the time? Would it affect me even more? Would I have to give in to those desires to sustain and quench the wolf's thirst for violence? Would I be able to fight it off forever if I did?  
  
Could it force a human to do what it wanted?  
  
That question rang through my mind the most as we neared the edge of Diagon Alley and strode out into London's busy streets. No one saw us (surprisingly) because Tom was guiding me through shadow after shadow, each one more potent in its power as the last. But my mind was not on the people that might see me. It was on Tom. Perhaps this Coranimag powder became addictive to a person. What would happen to the person? Would the animal's instincts truly be just as potent in human form? Is that what made Tom so . . . Lord Voldemort-ish? Is that why he changed? Because of this silly powder and his taste for it.  
  
I had only been in this form for thirty minutes and my body was already satisfied and awed at the amount of power the wolf had. The bunching of muscles beneath fur, the sharp sense of smell that allowed me to taste what fear people have and the joy they were experiencing, the warmth of the fuzzy, ash-coated hair against my body to be both protective and shelter. A person could live like this and be satisfied for a millennia. No doubt Tom had used it before since he seemed so comfortable with it. Perhaps he was addicted to this. If so, how long had he been using it? Would it be possible to replace it with an addiction for something else?  
  
I stared at his paw prints in the shadow's light. My wolf eyes followed every little dust mite that he had replaced and stepped my own paw there to trail precisely where he was going. With ease we crossed several streets at a gentle lope. Then, almost ten minutes after my silent questioning, we stopped behind some bushes in a park in front of King's Cross. I stared at it for a moment, shocked at the speed we had been going in order to get here this quick.  
  
"Okay," Tom said as if talking to some soldiers and giving them a briefing on a mission, "In order to get out of this form, you have to think of being human again and want it. I've done this often before so it's easy to me. You might have a few problems because you're new to this. That's why I pushed you here harder so that you can spend some time trying to get out of the form. There's another way to get out of it, but that's only used in emergencies."  
  
I stared at him with almond shaped blue predator eyes for a moment, then nearly lunged at him in fright when I saw those black eyes staring back at me lose the animal part of them and go completely human. "Eek!" I shrieked in a short bark, "Drat you, Riddle!"  
  
He knew nothing of what I was saying any more though. He was human; I was wolf. The only rule to the speaking was that human/wolf communication didn't work. It had to be wolf/wolf. Hence, I almost took advantage of the fact of cursing him senseless, but didn't. My mother's training on me was too strong to permit taking advantage of other people's problems like that. I whuffled a sigh and thought hard of being human.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
I tried again, pushing all my might into it and nearly howling in pain as the transformation nearly overtook me. A raw white streak of anguish came over me as I tried again and again and nothing happened but more pain. The wolf was not willing to leave me.  
  
"You have to want it, Rushton," came Tom's leering voice. I glared at him, shut my eyes and began to remember.  
  
I thought of the wind pushing through the long strands of my hair and grass against my feet. "But you can do that in wolf form too," said a red haired wolf that rose out of the blackness of my mind and stood in front of me, jeering me on. I thought of tasting steak, cake, and other things as they juggled themselves on my tongue. "Still can with me. Stay with me! I'm lonely!" cried the red haired wolf. I remembered laughter, tears and everything else that a wolf couldn't do, but still she would parry my onslaught with another mentioning of something better that wolves could do.  
  
"NO!" I shouted at her, "I want to be HUMAN again!" My voice rose into a scream as another wave of pain, as if brought on by a whip full of wolf's teeth, settled across my whole body, though mostly into my spine. I felt the earth remove itself from my hands, my feet fly off the ground, my back collide into a tree and I cried out. For a moment, everything was silent. The birds had stopped chirping and even the spider crawling along my hand was still as if contemplating life itself in its tiny brain. "Ugh . . ." I groaned.  
  
Wait a second! My hand!  
  
I stared in wonder and awe at my palm, not anymore covered in fur. "Yes!" I yelped and jumped up, happy to be human and complete again. I rubbed my hand all over my cheek, as if reveling in its smooth skin and no longer fur.  
  
Then I halted. Tom was staring at me with one dark brow raised in question. "This would be amusing," he smirked (drat him!) "If it wasn't pathetic." His eyes flashed a steady stream of red as he stared at me as if he were trying to see into my soul. "Honestly, Rushton, contain yourself. As if screaming that you wanted to be human wasn't enough, now you want to jump up and down like a rabbit on alcohol."  
  
I glared at him, my joy forgotten by his comment. "I hope you die someday, Riddle. I hope you die and become forgotten." I shouted at him with all the fury in my voice.  
  
A smack rang across the silence that I had birthed as he slammed his palm into my cheek. "Don't talk to me like that ever!" He hissed lowly, "Someday you will regret every evil and disgusting thing you've ever said to me, Rushton, and when that day comes, I pray that the pity in my eyes matches your present foolishness." Before he strode away from me and to King's Cross I saw his eyes change from garnet to the familiar black. But the familiar black was plagued by a taint of sorrow and ultimate compassion. I thought of the ruby color that sometimes took over that taint and wondered, why do I never see that side of him? Then it hit me: two people were inside of Tom. The future Lord Voldemort and the younger, kinder Tom Marvolo Riddle that actually cared for people and had never wanted to be in Slytherin. Everytime the kind Tom tried to intervene and show himself, Lord Voldemort would show up instead and push kind Tom back into the dust. And this was all shown to me by one thing: his eyes. No doubt the ruby color was Lord Voldemort and the black was Tom. But then, why would Tom be mean to me even when there was no red in his eyes?  
  
Because of he has been taught for ages by Lord Voldemort . . . came the haunting answer. Because he is afraid to resist. The wolf part of him has grown too large to balance the scales he has placed and now kinder Tom is going to disappear.  
  
Oh hell. I'm in trouble now!  
  
I followed him, touching my now bruised cheek with cool fingers. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes but I didn't show that I was hurt. I accepted it. My pain was one that many people had no doubt suffered. The thought both comforted and saddened me as the grass tickled my shoes and brushed along the hem of my dress with green fingers. Soon that grass was replaced by concrete and that concrete replaced by cobblestones as we descended down a wide staircase into King's Cross. Tom grabbed a trolley cart, placed all of our school items on it, and started to walk towards Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. When did he grab all my stuff and his? I wondered but obeyed meekly when he beckoned me to his side. "Come along Rushton. We have to hurry if we want good seats. My friends have no doubt been waiting for us this whole time."  
  
I nodded demurely; trying to seem submissive after the hit he gave me. When he noticed this, he frowned. I could see the colors in his eyes trying to shift. But it seemed that the kinder Tom won over because they stayed darker than night. "I-I'm sorry, Rushton. I lost my temper when I did that. It's just that your comment hurt and really hit low. Everyone's told me something along those lines before. It's just that . . . coming from you . . . It really hit hard. Let me see where I hit you." He reached out to me, trying to pull me closer so that he could see my cheek. I flinched and shifted my weight so that I was carried away from him. A hurt look passed across those eyes. For a moment, I felt bad. Here I was, Virginia Weasley, being mean to a person who 1) was going to become the future Dark Lord and 2) was fighting against himself so that he could retain all sanity. Gods, what was I doing? "Truly," he murmured, "I am sorry, Ginny. Please forgive me."  
  
I guess I had done something right in some way or another because when I said, "Alright, Riddle, I can't stay too mad at you for long." His eyes seemed to finally win that eternal battle they were fighting and he grinned one-sided at me. By then we had reached the barrier and he was standing in front of it, some people staring at us in mild curiosity while he pushed it forward and yet still looked at me. Then their curiosity went away because the barrier would not allow them to see us as we walked through.  
  
I twisted my gaze away from Tom's grin (something that was quite alarming to see, I assure you) and rested it on the Hogwarts Express. It looked young. Much more younger than the one that I would sit on in my time. As we took our stuff off and loaded it onto our arms, and walked on, I felt a different air on this one. It was more subtle, more full of invisible pink lines that showed for crushes on certain boys and girls, and more graceful in demeanor. Instantly I decided that if I had to pick one train or the other, I would pick this one. No one was tense in what they were saying, no one stood to denounce certain people of liking what Lord Voldemort's charisma was. It was peaceful. Quiet, almost.  
  
My arms were full of my new stuff so that Tom had to open the door to a compartment and help me load it into a certain spot where it wouldn't tumble about. Done, he smirked at me and plopped down on a soft seat across from me. Heavy with needing sleep, I sat down on the plush seat behind me and nearly sighed when I felt its soft contours fit my skin. Sleeping next to Tom Riddle in the same bed, with meager covers and a rock- hard mattress wasn't exactly my idea of a good night's sleep, I decided and rested the back of my head on the window. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting serenity and acceptance close my features . . .  
  
And then snap them open again when the compartment door opened and in came two stunning girls and three boys each taller than me by a head or so.  
  
"Dratted monkeys of Ra!" I muttered. They paused when they saw me with Tom, then the two girls pronounced themselves on the same side as me and the three boys with Tom. I glared at him. "Friends of yours, I presume?" Almost instantly my shield of sarcasm and the ability to hate people set itself up. Riddle and I were back at the beginning.  
  
He smirked. Before I could think about what I was doing I stuck my tongue out at him childishly and stared as he gave me a sign with his hand. After a few guffaws from the boys and two giggles from the girls he let down his hand and said, "I need to introduce you all to people, Rushton. The first one, the girl sitting closest to you, is Juniper Ambrose. She's a heartthrob for many Slytherin boys and helps me gain information about things. She's in fifth year, like you, and has the most horrible ability of being polite even in the thick of things."  
  
I looked at Juniper, who stared back at me with cerulean colored eyes and pale albino colored hair that reached down to her waist. Her skin was a golden singeing color and her body was tall and slender with all the right curves in the right places. Her eyebrows rose in delicate arches above those piercing eyes and she stared at me. For a moment, I felt ugly and clumsy, unworthy in anyone's sight unless they were covered in dirt and grime first. "Hello," she said, her voice ringing like crystal bells. She reached out a golden hand in welcome. "I hope we become the best of friends." She smiled. A silver smile that reached her eyes though there was nothing to smile about. I didn't smile back, just gawked at her,  
  
Tom then motioned towards the other girl that sat next to Juniper. "This is Lorna Gahlin. She's sixth year, best Qudditch player we have currently, she's Keeper by the way, and she has the biggest crush on Luca here."  
  
I looked at Lorna, who blushed a fiery crimson and snapped, "I do not, Tom! I like no one." I saw Tom smirk out of the corner of my eye and just assessed the person in front of me. Short chestnut hair rose in little waves around her face and mirrored huge catlike coppery eyes that hovered above full red lips and a bit of natural blush on her cheeks. She was slightly above the average weight and commanded a playful presence around her that also held a hint of seriousness. I was confused as I tried to compute what she was like by herself and not what she was like around boys or Tom. Perhaps . . . more outgoing?  
  
I twisted my sapphire gaze to one of the boys. "This is the prized Luca Malfoy. Said to be the most handsome boy in the school, next to Richard Potter and me of course. He's also the Seeker for Qudditch and the wealthiest one of us here." I gaped at the grandfather of Malfoy. His short blonde-white hair rose in small spikes above his head and his stormy gray eyes looked listlessly at me. I shivered under his intense gaze but remained holding it all the same. Something passed between Luca Malfoy and I, at that moment. A sort of understanding that both of us had separate jobs and we would not bode well together.  
  
"Hello," he said softly, still staring into my azure eyes, "Let us become . . ." he paused, searching for a diamond word in the midst of dirty ones. "Comrades." He finished with a slight smile and nod of the heads.  
  
"Comrades." I whispered in acceptance, and then looked at the boy to Luca's right. He was exceptionally tall, with bright blue eyes and flaming hair. I stared at him in surprise and shock. "You must be Jack Weasley," I said calmly, trying to keep a look of joy off my face at recognizing one person, "Very pleased to meet you."  
  
Jack stared at me; icy blue eyes reigned with a dazed look. "I am." He said in a very deep, pleasant voice. It was so unlike the voice that I knew. The one that was creaky and snappish with age. Who ever knew that my grandfather used to be a Death Eater? Or was he? "Have we met somewhere before?" He raised a dark ruby brow in question and I grinned.  
  
"No, but I have seen you somewhere. Your mother called your name and the only reason I looked over was because my own mother said that we could be twins. I took note of you, as I do to everyone that holds my interest." I said, trying to make up a story in the spur of the moment. Jack gazed at my blue eyes with his icy orbs, gaze brightly shinning as if he had one a prize.  
  
"Truly," he said, "Redheads must stick together." He grinned back at me sheepishly and I gave a swift nod before turning towards the next boy in line that sat to the left of Tom, who had watched it all with amusement playing his features and also the hint of suspicion. I dreaded that moment, thinking that he would understand my strange fall from the sky, fill in the pieces and shout that I was Jack's granddaughter more like.  
  
For a long moment, Riddle looked intently at my face, as if searching for something. Then he spoke, his voice twitching a bit as if considering something. Gods, I shouted, don't let him realize before it's too late! But he said nothing of suspicion and only of the boy next to him. "And this," he spoke with pride deep in his voice, "is Richard Potter. The hat often told him that he should be in Gryffindor, where he will be treasured and pampered, but he told the hat that he would rather be stuck with the grand purebloods than any other piece of dirt. He is the prize of my friends. He is also the next in line to being the most intelligent person at Hogwarts, but for me. He is also always there if you need help or I'm not able to help you." Tom grinned at the last part, as if suggesting something. I studied the boy who was so like Harry, but not really related to him. True, they held the same blood and such, but Harry actually cared for people. Richard didn't have glasses, despite what his son and grandson would have. He also had the ice blue eyes of Jack with a tinge of gray in them, but Harry's were green. He was well muscled and such, something that Harry had as well. But also had the aura around him of someone that no one could really trust, and that you always had to be on your guard around.  
  
"Hello," he said, "I'm pleased to meet you as well. Hopefully we will become trustworthy to one another." He grinned one-sided, almost a sneer of mockery but it held the type of joy in it that suggested that that was how he normally grinned anyway. I smiled back and took the tan hand that he offered me.  
  
"And likewise." I whispered to him, challenging his eyes to do something that would prove his worth. His mouth opened at the challenge but he shook his head and just grinned again.  
  
Then Tom said to everyone, "And this, my friends, comrades," he nodded to Juniper and Luca in response to their acknowledgment that he had used their words, "and trustworthy peoples," he nodded to Richard finally and said, looking into my eyes for confirmation if I were one of those people but only meeting a blank look, "Virginia Rushton, who she often asks people to call her Ginny."  
  
"Where did you find her?" Juniper asked, eyes appraising, "She looks like Jack, like she said, if not a bit more . . . innocent like. I thought that you tended to run along my tracks, Tom?" She waggled a white eyebrow suggestively in his direction and he snorted again.  
  
"Believe or not but she fell from the sky and into my arms in a night gown. It was quite amusing. You all would have been dying of laughter, I should think." He smirked at me as if reliving the moments we had shared together that day and yesterday. I scowled back at him.  
  
"A little angel then? Fallen from heaven?" said Jack, his voice luting with interest, "What had the little angel done to lose the love of her father? Why does she come to Hell now and not before?" He too arched a brow but in question not in suggestive behavior.  
  
I frowned. "I didn't keep my hands on the handle of a broom, that's what I did. There was nothing before or after that. This little angel has no father. It doesn't matter." I tucked inside myself, wondering what they would think of my statement.  
  
Juniper caught my gaze with her cerulean ones, her hair shining like the sunlight on snow. "No father?" the idea sounded preposterous coming from her mouth, "but then, where do you live? Where is your mother? Have you know siblings to take care of as well?" Her eyes bit deeply into mine, as if they could dig out the answers and devour them themselves.  
  
I clenched my jaw in what I hoped looked like biting back pain and retorted, "They are all dead, all eight of them. There was no hope in the situation, they all died. I live in an orphanage now. End of discussion." My voice said it was final and no more information could be dragged out of me.  
  
Sadly, Lorna didn't take the hint. "You had six siblings! I thought one was enough! What were they like?" Her voice was gentle but oozing curiosity and a need to know. I saw Juniper clench her jaw as well as if refraining from barking at the inquisitive girl but she still did nothing. Perhaps because of her own curiosity and wonder?  
  
"Yes, I did." I muttered, "Their names were Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Ron." I looked at the window and towards the trees that had finally appeared. It seemed we had left the station and were heading towards Hogwarts with all due speed. A tight clutch of fear went into my heart as I wondered about Hogwarts. Would people think my story strange? Would they try to root up details that I didn't even know? Would they wonder how I survived?  
  
I heard Lorna suck in breath through her teeth and a collective whistle from the people around. Tom did nothing; only watch me under heavy eyelids. The smirk on his face reminded me that I had a fist and maybe dental work to do. "Six brothers! No sisters! No wonder you act like you do. Why, if I didn't have Ruby or Lotus, I think I would fade away. Having sisters is like having gold!" Juniper exclaimed. Her eyes were wide with wonder. "To think . . .six brothers. Were they all like you?" she asked.  
  
"No. They looked like me though. And they were all tall. Taller, perhaps, than Richard or Riddle. Bill had long hair that he kept in a ponytail all the time. Never cut it at all. He had several piercings done too. Charlie was a DragonTamer, liked to brag about how he tended to get burned but not burned enough to be put in a hospital like the rest of them. Percy always tried to be Mr. Perfect. Rubbing in everyone's face that he was prefect and they weren't. Fred and George were twins. They caused trouble wherever they went and never felt guilt for it. Then Ron was the closest one to me and he didn't like spiders or anything with more than four legs. He had a pet rat once too. He's really funny." I finished and heard a sigh from my side of the compartment and I stared at Lorna and Juniper with disbelief as they got starry looks in their eyes.  
  
"Fred and George sound like my type," Lorna exhaled noisily, "I wish they were here so I could flirt with them." She leaned her head down on Juniper's shoulder in total helplessness as Juniper said, "And Charlie sounds divine!" They leaned against each other for a moment, trying to regain their senses enough to sigh again about how lovely my brothers sounded. Everyone shot them amused glances.  
  
But Tom had missed nothing. Firing on one mistake he said, "You said Ron's really funny."  
  
I looked at him. "Yeah, he was."  
  
"No, you said he _is_ really funny. Why did you do that?" He seemed eager like he was a lion getting ready to pounce on unaware game. The red glow in his eyes was starting to show slightly again.  
  
As I opened my mouth to answer, a huge clank ran through the compartments and the train halted. The sudden stop forced everyone forward. Before I had time to think, I threw my hands out to stop the floor from hitting me and they hit Tom's shoulders as he leaned forward to stop his descent into the carpet. His body pressed into mine and our lips met, briefly before we were tossed aside again by Richard's flailing arms. The lights went off, and everything went into total darkness.  
  
River-Star: Right! There's the fluff for everyone! I hope that helped with everyone crowding to see them kiss. I need some help on her house! I don't think she should be in Gryffindor or in Slytherin because that has been used so many times. What do you guys (and girls!) think about Ravenclaw? Tell me what you guys want and I'll try to make it happen! 


	9. Truth be Told

River-Star: *grins evilly* Thank you all my wonderful reviewers! I would also like to know if anyone here watches Yu-Gi-Oh? I love that show! I'm in mourning though. I had six dogs once, now I only have five. We had to put the oldest one, the one that I was closest to because she was only one month older than I, to sleep because she was blind and deaf and she was in lots of pain. It shames me to know that I can't cry for her either because I want to, but I can't! (Does that make sense???) Also: THIS IS THE LONGEST CHAPTER EVER!!!!! I swear! It was about thirty-nine pages on my computer and my bro kept telling me where I should end it. But there was a special point that I wanted to end it at so I had to continue until that point. Bear with me and tell me if it's boring or anything.  
  
Heart of Ice: I agree with the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw thing. Sphinxqueen127 is a pretty good name. Do you like Egypt?  
  
Firefly of hell: oh, don't worry about Richard Potter and Jack Weasley. You'll see what happens to them later on.  
  
Constance: oh yes. Sarcasm is the peak of my world. I love sarcasm. It's so funny.  
  
Life Sucks: Ravenclaw definitely. But more than likely, people will want Hufflepuff. If that's so, too bad for me and the rest who voted Ravenclaw. I like Ravenclaw better than Hufflepuff (sorry firefly of hell. -_-U)  
  
Simple-siam: Oh my gosh! I didn't thank you in the eighth chapter!!! Crap!! I'm sooooo sorry. I really am! Oh gosh! Shoot! *Curses and flings a million things around the house till uncle sends a warning glance at her* Um... *In staged voice that sounds way too loud* Oh! Darn! Shoot! Rats! Drat! Um . . .crap! *Uncle makes another warning glance* Oh fine! Anyway, forgive me please??? *Puppy face*  
  
Michaela Delsinne: Agreed on the house. Except I don't think that she'll do Slytherin. Everyone else does that and I don't want to be like everyone else. ^_~  
  
Catt: There you are! I thought you had abandoned me or something! Agreed on the trust thing. I mean, I knew enough by eleven years of age to stay away from people who had betrayed me or tried to slaughter me to regain their past self. Okay, maybe not the last thing but I have been betrayed before. It wasn't fun! You'll see why Jack is in Slytherin soon. Remember, Gryffindor is known for bravery. ^_^  
  
Adelianna: Good heavens! You actually like the little beasts! I hate mine. I tell him on a daily basis to do the world a favor and go get hit by a truck or something.  
  
Elralinde: Thanks! I will don't worry.  
  
Almasi: Gryffindor and Slytherin are not plausible because I don't want to do what the others are doing. She's gonna be put in Ravenclaw since everyone agrees with that plus the plot will fulfill its duty better there.  
  
Fiona: *grins* yeah, I know. Ginny seems like she shouldn't be in any house because of the way she is but I'm guessing that she got into Gryffindor because of her blood if nothing else since all the Weasleys are usually in Gryffindor. So I'm going to put her in Ravenclaw because . . . Wait a second! I was about to give you my whole plot! *Smacks head against the wall several times*  
  
Ennui2: trust me, he knows something's up but he's not willing to admit it to himself yet.  
  
Niamh: Love your choice of a screen name. *grins* Superb choice for a name. No worries about the house though.  
  
HeatherM: *bows* thank you so much. If you have any questions, let me know and I'll get back to you on that. Your review really made my day.  
  
Life sux: well, I had to sneak on my uncle's computer to download the chapters. This one is extremely long. Trust me. *Japanese sweat drop*  
  
NOTE: when the Sorting hat talks to Ginny or when she talks to it, it will be shown by '(whatever their saying)'  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
"Hey!" called someone in the dark compartment, "Get off me!"  
  
"Ouch! That's my mouth you just stuck your foot in, Luca!" someone else called.  
  
"Oops. Sorry!" the person who was Luca called.  
  
"Dammit! Juniper! Your knee is in my groin!" A person that was either Jack or Richard called.  
  
"Oh dear!" she said in an angry voice. Apparently she didn't find this as amusing as I was at the moment. "I wouldn't want to disappoint your girlfriends, Potter!"  
  
The voice that had told Juniper where her knee was occupying abruptly started to grumble loudly. Richard yelped suddenly. "Juniper!"  
  
"Yes?" she asked sweetly.  
  
"Your knee is going further than I would like!"  
  
"That you would like or your girlfriends?" She asked evilly, a glint of malice in it. I took it as a sign that she and Richard didn't get along very well. There was a collection of groans as suddenly all movement stopped and the darkness swept icy fingers over all of us.  
  
"You are all so pathetic," Tom muttered next to me. I tried to ignore him but the fact that he had just placed those lips that were uttering those words on mine overrode all reason. "First of all, Luca, get off of Lorna. Just move your elbow to the left a bit and your legs to the right and you'll be off the pile. Lorna, if you would kindly take your hand off of Juniper's face, I'm sure she would appreciate it. All you have to do is roll to the right and you'll be out of there. Next, Juniper, remove your knee off of Richard's groin please so that his fans won't have a problem with their next meeting. Just move a bit to the left and you can sit down on the couch. Richard, take your arms out from around Jack's feet. Jack, you may stand up now." Finally, everything was in order. I looked at Riddle only to see that his black orbs were like wine. "And you, Rushton, can just stay where you are because you are in a very different situation with your limbs." He stared at me for a long moment.  
  
"Err," I said, suddenly embarrassed, "I, uh, the, um . . . the floor's not very comfortable, Riddle." My cheeks flamed and I was glad for the dark.  
  
"That's because you are sitting on my legs. Any movement from you without light will hurt me so I suggest that you don't move whatsoever until we get light." Tom said, his voice dripping sarcasm.  
  
I blushed again and prayed for the lights to come back on soon. I attempted to move just a centimeter but when Tom clamped his so pale hand that I could see it clearly in the light, I stopped. He twisted his fingers so that I felt pain rushing through my arm and down my body. "Riddle!" I muttered, "Let go of me before I decide that I dislike you and decide to find somewhere else to sit."  
  
I could actually _hear_ him smirk. "I thought you already hated me, Rushton." I groaned. "Having fun then?" he asked innocently when he heard my groan.  
  
"Stuff it, Riddle."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Anywhere but here."  
  
"Bite me."  
  
"I've never been that hungry in my life."  
  
"You need some manners, little girl," he muttered and tried to move so that some blood could go down into his legs. "Gods, Rushton, what did you have for breakfast?" He tried to move again, sucked in a breath when he found that he couldn't and it only caused him more pain and for awhile there was silence.  
  
"Nothing, actually," I replied, placing my index finger on my chin, "But that's only because I wasn't allowed a nice juicy squirrel on the way over, now was I?" I glared at the spot where he should have been if his feet were in the right direction.  
  
"You took Coranimag?" said someone in the darkness.  
  
"Yes, Jack." Tom said, "And she had enough fun in the form to last a year." He glowered at me, ruby irises gleaming with prospects. Then Richard (I remembered his voice) said, "What form was she?"  
  
"A red wolf," Tom said absent mindedly, "She only had trouble getting out of the form."  
  
I heard a gasp go around as he said red wolf and looked around puzzled. "But Tom," inhaled Juniper (I remembered her liquid voice the most,) "That would mean--"  
  
"Absolutely nothing!" he snapped. I felt him squirm a bit under me in an uncomfortable way and sighed. This was going to be a long day, I decided, and closed my eyes.  
  
Heaviness weighed on me, so quick that I barely had time to cry out in surprise. "Dratted monkeys of Ra!" I cried. Two beady eyes were settled on mine and they weren't going to go anywhere for a while. "Oh, gods! RedShadow!" I said loudly, causing anyone who could hear where my voice came from to look at me strangely, "Don't do that!" She coiled herself around my neck matronly and hissed loudly causing Lorna to squeal in fright and Richard and Jack to back into their seats a bit. (Or so the protesting leather said.)  
  
Her silky skin collided into my neck, causing me to laugh lightly at her attempts to make me feel better. Silently, I closed my eyes and she lowered her head by my chin and nuzzled me. Sleep settled across my light a velvet cloak and I had dreams.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
Third Person  
  
Tom tried to squirm again and when Ginny didn't budge he sighed. "So, err, Tom." Richard said, "Why do you think she had the red wolf?" Anyone nearby could hear the wariness in his voice as he spoke to Tom, who fiddled with his wand for awhile, imagining what soon it would be doing. "I mean, everyone knows the prophecy predicted at your birth."  
  
"Remind me, please, I'm tired." Tom groaned and shut his eyes for a moment, trying to erase the burning feeling that spread across them whenever they changed color. He hated that. Above all things, he hated his other self. That other self, that. . .flight of death waiting to land was a carrion bird, descending upon those who would gravely accept rebuke and abuse for power and eating them till they were nothing left but pawns on his board of chess. He had just been starting to battle it currently. Before, he hadn't cared. Who wouldn't care if some other being inside you, a more powerful being, gave you more brainpower and more magic than anyone else had? But now he was starting to mind because the other being was starting to try and take control more often. It was trying to hurt those he loved to make him hard in his heart. That, he decided, he hated the most. More than the eyes or the skeletal changes that were erupting in his head. No doubt that soon that other being would decide that he didn't want to wait any longer and it would change everything Tom had accomplished to fit its needs.  
  
Then Tom met Rushton. That girl with a fairy's face and blood-red hair and the bluest eyes anyone had ever seen. If he looked into them deeply enough he could see stars exploding into tiny pieces to form a distant copper color. She had changed everything. Because of her, because of the slap he had dealt her, he was trying to change. Hell! He thought, I can't even apologize to her if I hurt her simply because he won't let me.  
  
Then Richard's voice smoothed out his thoughts as it told him the poem he had so often heard repeated to him by strangers.  
  
"One flight  
Through time's own demise  
Comes the child  
Of fire's heart  
Red wolf she hunts to be  
Red wolf she changes into  
The fire's core  
Love's true light."  
  
Tom snapped his eyes open at the last part. "I don't love her. I never will. She's despicable and incapable of anything. Just because she was a red wolf doesn't mean anything, Richard. She's a girl that-"  
  
A wry Jack interrupted him, "That fell into your arms out of the sky! Think about it, Tom! How many girls do you know do that?"  
  
Tom thought for a moment. "Well, Juniper did fall out of the sky into your arms, Jack. Tell me how many girls do that now?"  
  
Jack scowled in the darkness. "Please! She fell off her horse, it's an entirely different matter."  
  
A black brow shot up. "Is it though?"  
  
Jack's scowl deepened. "Yes."  
  
Tom searched for another denial in the poem. "And besides," he frowned, "we've spent four years trying to figure out the first two lines. There's no way anyone could possibly go through time."  
  
"Why?" Juniper asked, her eyes intent on Tom's white face. Anyone could see where he was and that because of his moonlight colored skin. It was so pale that it shined like a beacon through the darkness. "Why is it so hard to believe? Certainly that explains a few things."  
  
"It explains nothing."  
  
"Why would a girl fall from the sky in into your arms?"  
  
"Because, she told us, she fell off her broom."  
  
"In a nightgown?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Uh-huh." She said as if finalizing a contract, "Tom Marvolo Riddle, you are blinder than a bat."  
  
Richard offered his input here. "Actually, bats aren't blind. They have sonar sight so they can see but only in reflection of what the sonar tells them through distance." From the stark silence everyone could tell they were staring at Richard. "Just, err, thought I'd clarify." He gulped and settled further into his seat.  
  
"Anyway, as I was saying before Tweedle Dee interrupted here," Juniper said, motioning towards Richard.  
  
Suddenly she was interrupted again. "Wait," Jack said suddenly, "Who's the other one?"  
  
She groaned and made a sound that told Tom that she was slamming the heel of her palm into her forehead. "Enter Tweedle Dum." She said and continued, "Right then, it does explain some things. The prophecy, warning or poem, whichever you would like to say, is clearly saying that Miss Rushton over here is your light."  
  
"Prove it." Tom smirked, knowing he had possibly caught her.  
  
"She said, 'He's really funny.' When what she said before was that they were all dead. I doubt that was a grammatical error, Tom. Think about what she's been doing so far. I mean, she's slipped up a couple of times, hasn't she?" Juniper asked, her azure eyes piercing.  
  
Tom folded his arms over his chest and tried to move his legs again. Nothing worked. Gods he wished that Ginny would wake up or that the lights would turn on so he could make up an excuse to knock her on her butt! "In the shop she asked me, 'What's up?' and then had to retake it and say, 'What's the matter?' Does that count?" He shot Juniper a glare as if daring her to say anything.  
  
What Juniper gathered in the basket of her mind, Lorna missed completely. "Well, 'what's up' is a new phrase going around these days in the wizarding world. I wouldn't be surprised if she picked it up already. It's kinda catchy. You know, you walk down the street, see your best friend, wave and say, 'What's up, Joe?' Easy answer. Come across another friend and say, 'What's up, Sally?' and continue on your way."  
  
Tom rubbed his temples as she started a whole string of 'What's ups?' "Lorna." He whispered, hoping that she'd hear him.  
  
"Or, 'What's up, May?'"  
  
"Lorna."  
  
"Or maybe even, 'What's up, Johnny?'"  
  
"Lorna!"  
  
"What about, 'What's up, Ginger?'"  
  
"LORNA!"  
  
"What's up, Tom?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you positive?"  
  
'"Yes."  
  
"Are you absolutely positive?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Are you absolutely positively sure?"  
  
"YES!"  
  
"Are you absolutely negatively sure?"  
  
"YES, LORNA!"  
  
"You fell for my trap!"  
  
"What the he-!"  
  
"I said, 'Are you absolutely negatively sure?' and you replied 'yes!' Which means I can talk forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and-"  
  
"LORNA!"  
  
"Yes, Tommy?"  
  
"Would you SHUT UP?"  
  
"Okkie dokie!"  
  
"And don't call me Tommy ever again."  
  
"Okkie dokie."  
  
"And stop saying that!"  
  
"Okkie dokie!"  
  
Tom sighed and pressed his back against the compartment, wishing, praying, and hoping with all his heart that the lights would come on and he could get Rushton off him so that he could sock Lorna one right in the kisser. He couldn't even remember how he became friends with the little girl! "Juniper?" he asked.  
  
"Hmm?" she answered back, her eyes glowing a bit in the unreal night darkness.  
  
"How did I ever become friends with Lorna? No, wait, scratch that. _Why_ did I ever become friends with Lorna?"  
  
"Well, she had a crush on you in first year and she kept hounding you for friendship so finally you gave in and now we are as we are today." Juniper said simply as if she were telling it to a child and not a sixteen- year-old youth whose magic vastly surpassed hers.  
  
"Oh." He said and let out a little cry of relief when blinding light hit his irises. "Finally! Rushton! Rushton! Wake up!"  
  
She squirmed and tried to whack away his hand, which was shaking her shoulder enthusiastically. "Rushton! Come on now! Wake up before I have to kiss you again!" She jumped up, apparently struck out of her dreams and shouted, "I'm up, I'm up!"  
  
Tom clambered up from the ground and smirked. "Was I that bad, Rushton?"  
  
"Worse," came the evil answer. Inwardly he groaned. Would she ever trust him? He needed people that he could trust! People whose loyalty belonged solely to him and the dark one behind his eyes. Was she trustworthy though? She seemed to hate him if anything!  
  
Rushton scratched the back of her head, yawned widely, and sat down next to Juniper, who became to rearrange pieces of Rushton's hair to make her look presentable. "Now, then," Juniper said as she mothered over the redhead, "We have to make you look nice and spiffy for our table. We don't want any Slytherins making fun of you for having horrid hair on the first day, do we?"  
  
Rushton yawned again and nodded. Then suddenly, as if she were a rocket, she shot back up and sat erect. "B-b-but how do you know I'm in Slytherin?" she asked. The horror in her tone was nearly flattering to Luca Malfoy and Richard Potter, both of which had tried as hard as possible to make the Slytherin name known through acts of mischief.  
  
"I don't know." Juniper said, "I'm guessing. I could be wrong though. Everyone thought I was going to be in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw but instead I was placed in Slytherin." She moved a particularly ragged piece of ruby out of harm's way as she took a hair band out of her pocket and tried to tie up Rushton's hair.  
  
"Yeah!" Jack chimed in. "And all my siblings and such have all been in Gryffindor before. I think there's a reason I was chosen to be in Slytherin. The hat said I had a job to do here so here I am. All my brothers think I'm a traitor to the family name of Weasley now. Not much of a name in the first place though."  
  
Rushton stared at him for a moment, blue eyes wide and locked on his face. "Really? But it wasn't your fault!"  
  
Tom narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion. Everyone in the wizarding world had known of Jack Weasley's so-called 'Betrayal' of the family name. It was laughed at and smudged in the Weasley faces everywhere. Was she simply ignorant of this fact? Perhaps no one had told her, he thought, she does live in an orphanage so she wouldn't really have that well of any connections to the wizarding world.  
  
Jack snorted. "Tell them that! They think that I chose myself to be in Slytherin! They think that I hate Gryffindor! I didn't at first. But now. . ." his eyes looked out the window with the now-blurry shapes of green flashing by, "Now I'm not so sure I like Gryffindor at all."  
  
For a long moment there was silence. Then Juniper's wizard watch beeped and she stared at it a moment before announcing, "Time to change. Boys out, girl stay for change. Then we switch in about . . ." she computed the time in her pretty head and then said, "ten minutes."  
  
There was an admission of groans from the boys that knew Lorna and Juniper well enough that they would possibly spend thirty minutes in there and not just ten. It was a well-known fact that Lorna and Juniper played with each other's hair after getting dressed so that they could knock out a few boys on the first day. "Competition," they had said when Tom asked why. Both girls liked to see how many boys they could have crushing on them the first day. In the end of that day, they would tally it up, compare the scores to the ones of the last four years and decide if they should combo up a few things in order to get a higher score next year. No doubt that now they were going to include Rushton in their games as well.  
  
Nonetheless, the boys all piled out, RedShadow following on Tom's heels for good measure, and the girls got to work. Half of the time that Juniper announced was spent on clothes and robes. The other half was on brushing their teeth to a sparkly shine and then, right on the dot, twenty more minutes was spent working on Lorna and Juniper's long locks.  
  
When they were finished inspecting each other's work, they turned towards Ginny and with a roguish smile, pounced on her and began to set to work.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
GPOV  
  
My gods! What the heck were they doing! I knew I shouldn't have done this in the first place! I knew that as soon as I met Tom Riddle that I was in deep trouble and that was only the beginning.  
  
Holy Goddess! That hurt like heck! What did they just do to that lock of red that was hanging in my face? Where is it? "Lorna, Juniper! Stop! What are you doing?" I shouted and saw a strand of ruby float by my face and onto the floor. I gripped it between my fingers and roared, "HEY! That BELONGS on my head!" There was a roar of laughter from the other side of the door and I knew possibly everyone on the train had heard me.  
  
Finally, after a few moments of struggling, Lorna and Juniper had finished my hair and were now on the make-up. Gods! What were they doing? I had never worn make-up in my life! I didn't even know what lipstick was!  
  
I felt something smear on my eyelids as they forced them shut, and then a dab of something that tickled on my cheeks. I sneezed as they wafted a bit of flowery perfume on me, and then readjusted my shirt so that anyone could see my taut stomach. Then they did something to my skirt to make it short enough that my mother would have given birth to a cow even if she were a virgin.  
  
When they were finished, they dipped their hand into their packs, withdrew two canisters of sparkling cream and smiled evilly at me. The girls advanced, one with golden gel and the other with smoothing gel and attacked my hair. "NOOOOOOO!" I shouted and tried to rip away but Lorna, for all her petiteness, held me tight as Juniper sprayed some golden gel into the roots of my hair and I felt a tingle go over me that meant that my hair now had golden highlights that sparkled. Lorna let go of me and before I had time to rush away and slam the door behind me, Juniper had grabbed me instead. Lorna applied the smoothing cream into my hair to get rid of any type of curl or frizz that I had once had and stepped back to admire her work.  
  
"Beautiful, Rushton, my dear, simply gorgeous." She faked a French accent and then high-fived Juniper with a wide grin. "Tom will have to believe when he sees you. If you get more boys than us this year, I wouldn't be surprised." Juniper winked at me and then strode out to the joint noise of whistles and panting. Then Lorna strode out after blowing me a kiss and laughed when she heard extra whistles and a few barks come her way. "Come on, Rushton, my dear. We must, how do you say? Introduce you to the world of men!" She rushed back in, grabbed my hand tightly and then pushed me out, spreading her arms to show me off to the world.  
  
Instantly, Juniper took up the spot of announcer. "Now then," she began in a loud, man-like tone, "Here is the newest model of the year. She's fifteen, beautiful, red haired, and -wait for it, men, - SINGLE! Her hair has been recently applied with Sun Dust highlights and straightener cream that vanished away any frizz or curl that she ever possessed. Her favorite pastimes are making fun of Tom Riddle, making more fun of Tom Riddle, and, my personal favorite, making fun of Tom Riddle! Enjoy!" For a long, silent moment I stood there, blushing like there was no end to it all and looking furiously around the room for some foreign notice of help. Lorna shoved me into a mess of people and said, "Introduce yourself, Rushton, my dear. You won't like the way we do it." She winked at me again and I gulped.  
  
"Err, hi?" I said, looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights. Why, gods, oh why did you do this to ME? "I'm Virginia Rushton."  
  
A few boys actually looked away, despite the hungry looks in their eyes. Once again it was like in the inn, where men scoured my flesh for something malleable and to their taste. Every youth, every person was staring at me; waiting to see me do something that would make their jaws drop and their skin warm. But I could do nothing. I was paralyzed with fear.  
  
What I didn't notice in my paralysis stage, was Tom creeping up behind me to grab me and toss me in the compartment, rage twisting his features. Oh gods! I was in trouble now, I thought as I whacked against the seat, bouncing hard. "What is the matter with you?" he cried at me, "You've done . . ." he stared at my skirt and shirt and motioned for words that his mouth wouldn't produce, "_that_ to yourself! Why?"  
  
I scowled, angry and resentful at him. "I didn't do it! They," I paused, pointing at the doorway to symbolize Juniper and Lorna, "did it to me. I didn't want them to."  
  
He smirked at me. "Interesting tale, Rushton, tell me another. But let me tell you something first. Before you try to make a-a-a whore out of yourself, think of your conscience first! USE YOUR HEAD, GIRL!"  
  
My mouth popped open and suddenly I couldn't stop myself. I was up in his face screaming at him. "YOU KNOW WHAT!" I shrieked, "YOU SEEM TO THINK THAT YOU CAN DO ANYTHING YOU WANT BECAUSE YOU'RE MORE POWERFUL THAN US AND YOU CAN GO DO ANYTHING WITHOUT CONSIDERING YOUR OWN CONSCIENCES, TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. I'M TIRED OF YOU BOSSING ME AROUND. JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I HATE YOU! I _HATE_ YOU! EVERY PIECE OF YOU, EVERY MURMUR, EVERY PLOTTING OF A WORD THAT YOU'VE EVER SAID I HATE. YOU'VE RUINED MY LIFE! YOU'VE RUINED IT BEFORE!" I whirled around; ready to leave when his hand gripped my arm.  
  
His eyes were flashing a dangerous red again. My fury forgotten, I remember a new element: fear. His dark face was contorted in a war of misery and hatred and when I saw that, I knew something bad was going to happen to me soon, no matter what. "What do you mean, Rushton, that I ruined your life before? I haven't even met you before!"  
  
"You think you haven't! You think that you've never met me before! My goddess! You've ruined my life ever since first year!" I was trying to cook up a story in my head, something that would at least make my fury plausible. "My family liked your ideas, you know that? No? Well, they did. Ever since they'd first heard of your perfect face, your perfect magic, your perfect EVERYTHING, I've had to live up to _your_ standards! I've had to be perfect in EVERYTHING! 'Can't have a Rushton be beaten by a halfblood,' they would say every morning and they'd have me write dozens of owls home explaining all the perfect things I did. And if I ever mess up just once and it ever met their ears, by all the gods Riddle, they'd send me Howler after Howler until I was half-deaf with their screaming. They thought that since I was the only girl, the only child to be allowed to still be in school, that it was a race, boy vs. girl, halfblood vs. pureblood, serpent vs. lion, EVERYTHING was a race between you and I. EVERYTHING! Everyday, it would be in their letters, 'well done on your spell test, Virginia, but Riddle, as I hear it, got a PERFECT score.' Or, 'Virginia, we're happy that you figured out that puzzle in thirty minutes but Riddle got it in over twenty seconds!' or 'Gosh, dear, your grades are perfect but can't you get a higher grade?' Everyday I tried to win their approval and all I got was a measly, 'Try harder, Virginia, a pureblood must be better than a halfblood.' So in a way, Tom, you did ruin my life. You've ruined everything I ever strived for." I glared at him, ready to leave and relieve my stress on thoughts of killing him in multiple ways.  
  
A long silence stretched out and I had thought of over fifty ways to kill him, mostly involving me laughing hysterically in the end when he spoke. "Rushton," he paused, the war waging again in his head and finally I saw the old Tom peer through at me, "Ginny, I'm sorry."  
  
The fifty-first way of killing Tom Marvolo Riddle went down in ashes in my head, causing me to wince a bit since it was overly elaborate on detail and the whole thing was now crumpling at my feet. A hard-core, evil being was birthed in my soul that told me to be as mean as I could to this boy. I fought harshly against it, trying to waver its strength in my breast and punch it back into my stomach where it could be locked up forever. After several grueling moments of struggle something finally happened.  
  
I gave in.  
  
"Well, apology not accepted. Drop dead, Riddle. I don't want your pity or anyone else so leave me to myself and let me do what I need here. I want you to leave me alone and never give me a second thought. I want to forget you, banish you from the corridors of my mind and leave you to rot outside of them. I hate you, I want to forget you and never look back. Believe that, it is the truth." With that said and done, the venom in my voice gave way to pure frost and he stared at me in disbelief as I shot him down into cold water.  
  
"Rushton?"  
  
There was no answer, for the battle in me was raging again and I suffered merciless attacks on my kind soul to give in to this darker, viler essence of evil.  
  
"Rushton?"  
  
Again there was no answer. But the being inside me was losing quickly and only because Tom was saying my chosen name. I could feel the blank look on my face, the burning sensation that was spreading through my eyes as the war of colors went on in them; one color was a dark ebony, the other my regular, innocent blue.  
  
"Virginia?"  
  
Say my name! I cried mentally, say my true name and save me! It was getting stronger with each mental blow, each reeling back of my spirit. Oh gods I was going to lose again.  
  
"Ginny?"  
  
The hold that had been grasping my spirit let loose with a cry of disgust as innocence enveloped me like a vapor of light.  
  
"What?" I asked, trying now to rid myself of the horrid headache my brain was bearing. I rubbed my forehead empathically and sat down on one of the couches trying even harder to forget the fact that my skirt was too short and my shirt rode up too high for my liking. Not to mention the golden highlights in my hair.  
  
"Were you serious? When you said those things? About hating me and wanting to leave me to rot and such. Were you telling the truth? Am I that awful?" He asked me, the tenderness and embarrassment in his voice told me that the old Tom was still there, vulnerable and about to lose a battle without help.  
  
I didn't answer. I couldn't. The other being inside of him was raging, roaring its fury at my comments and trying desperately to get out and damage me again and again till I gave in to his whims.  
  
Finally, the battle was over, Tom stood there, his eyes glinting malice but his voice . . . his voice held no mockery. Only confusion. He bent down, stared me straight in the eye and whispered, "Why do you plague me so?"  
  
Then, as quick as he had grabbed me without me noticing, he was gripping his wand, changing my clothes and hair to its normal state and leaving with a smirk on his face.  
  
After a moment of wariness, I got up, walked out of the compartment and returned to Juniper and Lorna's sides. Lorna shot me an inquisitive look as I waited for the train to stop and gathered all my stuff in my arms. RedShadow passed around my ankles, tying herself up my legs and hooking herself around my neck in distinct reassurance. I watched Juniper shudder with fear at the sight of a gigantic, slim snake settle itself comfortably under my chin and loop the slinky coils around my body. She hissed at me in a motherly way and I spoke, "Well, I'm sorry that you had to witness that fight! It's not my fault!"  
  
RedShadow stared at me, her eyes unblinking (A/N: Because, ha ha, snakes don't have eyelids! *Laughs like its the funniest thing in the world and stops abruptly, realizing that no one is laughing* Okay, I'll shut up now) as if trying to say, "It was too! You could have opened the door, at least!"  
  
I blinked at her, wondering where I had gotten that wake-up call. "Well, still," I grumbled, "I didn't know you were there." My eyes locked with the confused and shocked ones of Juniper and I shrugged, "What? She's being difficult again. You should have seen her this morning. She wouldn't get off my hand for anything."  
  
"Err, Ginny," Lorna said, her brows furrowed in confusion, "When did you start talking to snakes?" Her chestnut hair was coiled around her head in a halo and as she stared at me the light shone through the window behind her just right so that the halo lit up and turned a very dark blonde.  
  
My face mirrored hers as I spoke, "What are you _talking_ about? I was speaking to it in plain English!" They traded speculative looks and I shouted, "NO! NO! NO, NO, NO, NO! There is NO way! I am not any heir and neither am I anything abnormal! Leave the fact alone! I couldn't even understand RedShadow. She was just looking at me all funny as if to accuse me of something and I guessed. There's nothing to say. I probably guessed wrong!" I whirled around, my stuff overflowing in my arms and started towards the train entrance and exit as it came to a slow stop.  
  
RedShadow hissed in encouragement as I stumbled off, weighed down by my new things, all bought by that bastard Tom Riddle. There was NO WAY I could have gotten his powers! Heck! I didn't even know what the snake was saying in the first place. I just. . . guessed. . . I guess.  
  
I absentmindedly stroked the snake's velvety head while heading to the carriage, taking careful note to pet the bat winged horses next time I saw them and were able to without people around. They were ugly beasts, truth be told, but they held an air of mystery around them that made me seek out their presence often. Yes, I could see them, thanks to something that happened in the summer of my fourth year. The memory hit me as I was ushered into a carriage after glancing shortly at one of the creatures and sat next to Juniper and Lorna, across from Richard and Jack.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"HELP! Somebody! One of the beasts! They've gotten loose!" someone screamed.  
  
I whirled around, long red hair flying in a cycle around my head as I did so and stared at a scaly dragon as it raged furious flames all over the land. It was raining; causing the flame to dampen somewhat, but not helping it lose its potency of death.  
  
Charlie, his equally fiery red hair flipped soggily away from his forehead, rushed forward, trying to grab a rope that an owner had bestowed to air alone. "Hurry!" he cried to a couple of frightened bystanders, "Grab those two ropes and pull!" Seeing no change in their stature, he bellowed, "QUICKLY!" The two people ran to help finally after a short glance at each other and gripped the two ropes hard in their callused hands.  
  
Tugging with all his might, rain dripping wet and cold around him and on him, Charlie shouted at me through gritted teeth. "Ginny! Go get help. There's an area, five miles from here. Take my broom, fly as low and fast as you can, and scream for help. The village is full of strong wizards and witches so no one will care. They know we're here so it won't matter and everyone will know what you're talking about, go now!"  
  
He stumbled and then dug his heels in as the dragon tried to succumb to flight by unfurrowing its wings. Somebody let go of his rope in fear and the dragon whished its tail around, lunching a streamer of flame towards more rope holders then swirling around gracefully and raising its leathery, tough paw up to crush someone with its foot, the claws digging into the skin, piercing the man's torso and his lower body.  
  
A fountain of garnet liquid shot up like a stream of wine hatching from a wand and someone screamed. Another rope was released, the dragon whirling around to answer its call to freedom by plunging its tail's long spike into someone's throat and chopping off that person's head completely. I stared in horror, my mouth wide open in horror, as the red blood plunged up from arteries throughout the person's body and sprinkled both ground and human form beneath its grim light. I felt a few drops of the liquid sizzle against my skin and ran. I ran away from the terror, the chaos, the madness of it all. I ran away from the screams, the blood, the dragon's cries as all the wizard's and witches finally decided to finish it off before it did the same to them. After a few short moments, silence reigned, diminished only by the sounds of my tears cascading down my ivory cheeks and everyone's whooping of victory and some of distress for killing a dragon.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
This summer, I thought with a shudder, that's when that was. Now it seems like so long ago . . . I sighed as I rested my chin in my hand, smoothing some crinkles along RedShadow's back and staring dismally out the window.  
  
Lifting my hand to my cheek, it skimmed the place where those three drops of blood had hit me and remembered the tangy taste of that blood against my skin. "What's the matter, Ginny?" Jack asked, frowning at my forlorn state.  
  
"I-" I paused, trying to think of an excuse, "I-I was worried about my house. I don't want to be in," I nearly gulped, preparing myself to the ultimate treachery of my current, true house, "Gryffindor with those losers. I would rather be with you all or something. Just as long as we aren't, you know, enemies because of our houses." My gaze flickered to the window again, watching as one of the white eyed horses plunged into a nice trot, flicking its bat wings towards the sky in the joy of life.  
  
Juniper stared out at what I was looking at and smiled. "Don't worry, things become revealed in time." I removed my gaze from the window to stare at her, my blue pupils confused. Her words sounded. . .cryptic somehow. As if it had two meanings and not just a phrase to reassure me of my house.  
  
Then I realized what she meant and smiled too. "You too?" I asked, eyes shining with hope. Juniper nodded, her face beaming at me and motioned towards the horse shafts.  
  
"I've named them as well." She said as she shifted through a trunk and removed a piece of parchment. I took it from her hand, studied it and a light clicked on. I had heard of Juniper somewhere. I remembered where I had heard her name, err, seen it before.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
I rested my hand on the black horse's withers, ignoring the ugly nature of it as it descend its nose upon the carrion and began to eat in long slurping noises and the crunching noise of bones. I stroked its skeletal coat, relishing at the dead muscles twitching beneath my fingers and the smell of decay. For some reason these thestrals seemed to make my pain and regret more shallow, easier to wade in, so to speak.  
  
Gods knew they were ugly beasts with long bat-like wings and eerie eyes that had a white void where the irises should have been. I rested my hand on its neck, still ignoring the slurping sounds as it's nuzzle fell upon a particularly long vein and began to suck it up like spaghetti. Suddenly there was a single cracking sounds and birdsong ended as they fluttered away in distress. I looked up, unable to ignore that sound for it told me of someone or something Apparating nearby. My blue eyes, frightened and wide, met with a tan, aged piece of parchment.  
  
Pale skin brushed against the thin material as I reached out and grasped the floating paper and examined its contents. Silently I read to myself in my head, spilling thoughts over the contents of why someone would give something to me.  
  
"To those whom it may concern:  
  
"I who am the caretaker of these creatures, whom most call thestrals but never see them or hear their calls, beseech you, the bearer of this note, to take into consideration the job I have done. I have named these creatures, which may or may not be the descendents of the thestrals that I have seen and loved, though most may not be able to tell who they are. If I have not pressed the information on the bearer yet, then I know that my friend has been paid his due. Because of this course of action, I must bestow upon you, the person who has gained the trust of a thestral and proven to me and this parchment that you are able of loving creatures and people despite their actions and appearance, both physical and mental. I thank you and plead you to take care of them in my stead.  
  
*~Juniper~*  
  
There the letter ended and began a long list of names of the thestrals that seemed to stretch forever and ever. I studied it intently for a moment, wanting to learn more of this Juniper person but after several moments of waiting for something other than names come up, I looked up.  
  
And my eyes met with the ones possessing to a woman whose very beauty stunned me into speechlessness.  
  
"Hello, my old friend," the woman said. Her blue dress was fashioned in an Ancient Greek style and she wore no cloak, only her long flowing dress and her straight white hair that hung down to her hips in a thick mass like it was a pure cloud. But it wasn't her slender body or her long flowing dress and hair that caught my attention. It was her cerulean eyes, a light blue that was so light to be gray. Somehow, I felt I knew her from somewhere long ago. I gulped, feeling that I had met with a goddess and had fallen out of reality for a moment.  
  
She smiled, spreading her full red lips to reveal white teeth that was as albino and pure as her hair. "You seem frightened. The years have greeted you with welcome, friend. You look to be fifteen, yet I know differently."  
  
I stared at her wide-eyed as she took as floating step forward and I took a step back into the thestral's black flank. "I-I am only fourteen. Why do you keep calling me friend? I don't know you at all. I would have remembered you surely."  
  
She halted, her white brows furrowing into a frown of consternation. "You are Virginia Rushton, are you not? I know you and you know of me. Do you not remember? Tom, your husband, awaits you in this wood. He said you would know where."  
  
I stared at her. "I-I-I have no husband. Who's this Tom that you're talking about? I don't know any Toms."  
  
Her frown deepened. "Tom, Tom Riddle." She stated as if everyone knew. And maybe everyone did. Perhaps that was a reason that I was always left in the dark, because there were some matters that everyone kept out of my ears for safety.  
  
But at that name. . .  
  
No one could save the nightmares that flashed in my head at that name. The images, the stages that were set for the main characters: Ginny Weasley and Tom Riddle, to play upon with Ginny being the innocent girl with many dreams and little doses of reality to realize the trouble she was in. I watched as Tom Riddle, the criminal mastermind of the world, stepped forth, slit her forearms with a knife and laughed as blood dripped slowly and steadily down her arms, as she writhed in pain and then her face went blank as his memory charm made her believe there was no pain, no wound, no blood running freely down her arm. And then he would do it again and again and again, watching perversely as the little girl with a fairy's pretty face and blood-red hair would cry out and then turn to stone under his gaze as he made her forget.  
  
"But he is dead," I whispering, the memories sparking a flare of fear deep in the rungs of my heart and soul, "and I never liked him. He tortured me. We are not married."  
  
The lady Juniper pursed her red lips and frowned at me, thinking hard. "Ginny, friend, oath-sister, have you forgotten everything? You look like you did fifty years ago yet you remember nothing of marrying your love or bearing your children or anything. Why is this so? Do you not remember even our oath?"  
  
I wished fervently that the thestral were not there, that I might crawl through it like it never existed and run out of the glade, away from this madwoman and her claims of memory loss. I had lost no memory, I remembered that! "I have made no oaths. I don't even know you. I would remember such a woman as fair as you if I even glimpsed you in a crowd. And I am a virgin. Therefore, I can have no children."  
  
She took a few more long steps forward and leaned into my face, looking very closely into my eyes, and peering in them. For a long moment, we stayed that way, her eyes staring deeply into mine as if they might envelope an answer and tug it out to present it as evidence to me and prove me wrong. Like it was all a hoax or she didn't want to believe it. Then, with a strangled cry, she stepped backwards, her hair swirling around her slender body like a mist. "You speak true! Virginia? Virginia Rushton? You know her? Don't you? Are you are relative? Anything?"  
  
I gaped at her and shook my head. "I don't know who you're talking about. I'm Virginia Weasley."  
  
A light shone into her eyes and as quickly as she had stepped away from me she was back, warmth like a beacon in her face and joy echoing deeply in her voice. "You are a descendent of Jack Weasley then?" When I nodded, she clapped her hands like a child finding a new toy and laughed loudly. "Of course! Ginny always did look a lot like Jack! How funny that you look exactly like her. Only like she did before she married Tom. Now she is more . . .worn . . . or so they say. But they also say that she still looks as she did when she was fifteen and new to Hogwarts, all shine and dazzle. Youth incarnate, they said. I thought you were her, with all your red hair and pale skin and fairy face. I wonder if you took Coranimag if you would be a red wolf as well? Will you tell me something, Virginia?" Again I nodded. "Will you try to summon Ginny from her home, maybe tempt her with stories of boys named Bill and Charlie and Percy and Fred and George and Ron? She spends all her time in there, playing with her children. She has twins so she does have a handful. Only daughters though, which is sad because Tom has always wanted sons. He won't give her up though. He loves her too much. Perhaps that will be his downfall one day. Except it can't be. What's the matter, Virginia? You seem like you have something on your tongue."  
  
"Those are my brothers!" I blurted out suddenly, flabbergasted by the fact that Mrs. Ginny Rushton and I would have so much in common about our favorite names or the like. "Those are my brothers' names. But how would she . . ."  
  
"Oh my!" Juniper gasped, "Are you telling the truth, girl?" I nodded, too mute with shock to really speak. "Those were Ginny's brothers too. She said they all died and she went to an orphanage. Fell from the sky one day, trying to get to Diagon Alley and landed in Tom's arms. I always did tell him that Ginny was the one he was going to find love in, but he never listened to me. Now they're married and have two children. Go figure." She scrunched up her perfect nose in disgust at Tom and Ginny's apparent denial and then muttered, "We never did find out her orphanage though. Never let us visit either. She was horrible about that too. Never wanted us to help her, stubborn as a mule and even more pigheaded when it came down to romance. That was our Ginny. Now I have to find her before its too late."  
  
I caught the last phrase and took in a ragged breath. "What do you mean, 'before its too late?'" I asked. My eyes were wide in their state and wild with terror. What was it that Ginny Rushton could do? What was it that she needed to stop her husband from doing? Why was she behind her home's walls, trying to ignore everything but her children's happiness?"  
  
Juniper cast a wild glance my way and smiled too widely for any honesty. "There is nothing to fret about child. Just memorize that list and I'll be back for you soon. I can't let Jack's granddaughter fade away, can I?"  
  
And with that, the most beautiful woman ever to grace the wizarding world disappeared with a shimmer like someone exhaling in frost.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
With a sharp exhale of breath I realized that the whole time, Juniper had been my friend, my best friend at that and Tom, in the end had been . . . "My husband," I breathed so lowly that no one could hear, "He was my husband."  
  
But Juniper heard and she pressed forward what information she had gathered to send me stuttering for answers. "Who was your husband?" she asked, cerulean eyes shining with mirth and curiosity.  
  
"Err, I, uh, I was playing a game once, with, err, one of the, um, people at the orphanage and we had invisible husbands. One of the names on here reminded me of it but I couldn't remember who he really was and it just hit me." I stammered.  
  
She grinned and leaned forward to capture the parchment and see the names. "Oh, really? Which one?" Her eyes roved over the list, scrambling and clambering over all the names to try and grasp which one.  
  
My eyes also ran over the list, trying to find a good boy name to fit in with my story. Without checking again, I just blindly pointed and said, "That one."  
  
She started to giggle abruptly. "You named your husband 'Eriocus?' Interesting name, Ginny, very interesting name."  
  
I blushed suddenly and scratched the back of my head in embarrassment. "Well, I mean I was only, err, about three years old. You know how minds are at that age. Totally oblivious to reality and sense. Ha ha." I gave a fake laugh and ducked behind a red shield of hair to cover my expression.  
  
In truth, my mind was raging with unanswered questions. Why had I not remembered the older form of Juniper and what she had said to me that day when I fixed my last name? Why had I not thought of it, even in the slightest, as I played my role as the innocent little fey-faced redhead named Virginia Rushton? Even more so, was this the path fate had decided for me? Was this why I had misshaped in the Timeturner and landed in this time? Was this what the gods had destined even as I had sat, cradled in my mother's arms as a child? Was I meant to be Virginia "Ginny" Riddle?  
  
Inwardly I groaned. How cruel the gods could be. Even with their most cautious followers, they wreak havoc on those too wary to notice their own mistakes, their own weaknesses. Well, I decided with a clenching of my jaw, I would not play into fate's hand or anyone's hand, for that matter. I decided my own fate. I would rewrite time to my advantage and leave here, go home, and forget all this. I refuse to think of Tom Marvolo Riddle as more than a loathed enemy, the word I use to curse with, the person my very being wishes to spit on, to hurt, to hate till there is nothing left of him but a disgusting mass of flesh and spittle and bone remaining to hate and curse. I will NEVER marry Tom Marvolo Riddle or look at him in any way besides a rival in my quest for home. He is the block, retaining what I seek, what I long for. I can knock him down. I will!  
  
Juniper, the ever wise-knowing Juniper, watched my face change, her expression amused. "You know," she said in the melodious voice that everyone would fall to their knees to hear a word of praise from, "Your eyes convey the most interesting messages. They're like . . . beacons. Beacons to your heart. Anything that you don't want to put on display or anything that's delving ever deeper into your heart shines there, lighting the way for people to see how you view them. Anyone could take one look, and read every little thing they wished there. It's your blessing. And your curse. Tread lightly on this path, Ginny, it may be your end." She closed her eyes slowly, as if savoring a piece of apple on her tongue or relishing in the scent of a rosebud, and then opened them just as slowing, smiling lightly at the astonished look on my face.  
  
Jack grinned, watching me, watching her, watching the both of us as we both matched our eyes together in a silent duel of whims. "Amusing as this all is, need I remind you that we have stopped and now we need to get out." I blushed and looked down, embarrassed to be found fighting, even without words, with one of my newest friends.  
  
"Sorry," I muttered and gathered everything in my arms. Richard held the door open for me as I clambered out, completely perturbed by Juniper's message of warning to me. What path? I am creating my own path. There is no other. If there is. . . I thought hard and long on it then decided, I will morph it to my will.  
  
Outside the air was a bit chilly, promising frost later in the year, with hints of mirth tucked away beneath the whistling wind. I could stand all day there, my breath coming long and lengthy through my mouth and nostrils, wondering at the modern beauty of everything. But all beauty fades, a stain by time can do such a thing, and such was a case with Tom Riddle, the taint of my world, the black wolf amongst the white sheep, the thunder cloud bouncing with the pure ones.  
  
He approached me, his black cloak billowing out behind him majestically, and I glared at him as RedShadow slithered off my neck and onto the ground behind him. I will never like you, Tom Riddle, I whispered to myself in my mind, never ever ever. Wish all you will, torture me with glances, words and charms. Try to bring me down with your grace; with your beauty everlasting and I will spit in your face. Nothing you can do will change my mind, I thought.  
  
"Rushton," he greeted me, "I was worried you had been dragged with the first years, tiny as you are." His eyes sparkled onyx black with his joke. Jack and Richard snorted and Lorna scoffed. Juniper, however, watched with interest the hatred that flowed out of my heart and into my mind with ease.  
  
"Hanging with your fan club again, Tom?" she asked, pursing her lips daintily and raising an albino brow. "I thought you hated them."  
  
He smirked. "Only when they get in my way. This time, though, something caught my eye and I wanted to . . . reinstate my approval again." His eyes glimmered with interest as they caught on a black haired witch with huge green eyes. Surprisingly, she walked over. No, wait, walked is not the proper word. She floated over to us with a grace that was unknown to angels and goddesses and nearly matched Juniper's. Her hand was grasping a trunk that had been bewitched so that she could carry it with ease and when she reached Tom, her other hand snaked around his waist possessively. "Juniper, Lorna, Jack, Richard, Rushton, let me introduce you all to Mina Silverglass. She's just transferred here from a small school in Ile de France. Mina, this is Jack Weasley," he paused, allowing Jack to reach forward and kiss Mina's hand gently, awe tucked tightly in his eyes, "the one next to him is Richard Potter," Richard presented himself with a little nod of the head and a crossing of his arms, "to his right is Lorna Gahlin." Lorna curtsied in her short skirt, a bit of jealousy in her eyes as Mina nodded back. "And her best friend, Juniper Ambrose, my informant for everything that happens in the houses."  
  
Mina smiled graciously at Juniper, obviously only liking her because of her beauty. The look of alighted joy was lost and replaced by disgust as she sniffed delicately and looked at me. "And who is this?" she asked, her French accent came in small proportions. I thought that if I made her angry enough she might bring it out at me in full force. I gave a lop- sided grin, thinking of how she would explode and how much she would sound like Fleur Delacore if I did. I wonder if she could curse in French too . . .I thought as she sniffled again derisively and said, "What has the cat dragged in this time, Tom?"  
  
Tom smirked, evidently imagining me falling off the broom and into his arms unexpectantly. "This is Rushton, my newest member of the circle. She is . . . different from the rest in the fact that she is an orphan, totally stupid, and clumsy to boot." I frowned at him but was only met with a wider smirk. Oh gods, just let me punch his lights out just once!  
  
Again, Mina sniffed. Gods! You'd think she'd have all the snot in her nose up in that empty skull of hers but apparently not. "Rushton . . ." she spit out like it was filth in her mouth, "Such a crude name. Surely we can fashion a better one. Maybe 'mudblood' or 'pig.' Perhaps even, 'slut' or 'whore.' Surely that red mop on your head is a wig. Such a mane of hair doesn't belong on someone as ugly as you are, mudblood."  
  
My rage could not be held back and before I knew what I was doing, I gave a falsely sweet grin and said, "I'm sorry that you envy it. Last time I checked it was attached. Also I'm probably more of a pureblood than you are. Not to mention my line is one of the oldest in Britain. So, Miss I- Like-To-Show-Off-What-I-Don't-Have, cram it somewhere where people will actually care. Otherwise you can go back to your little hellhole that you call a school and take your lessons there. Have a nice day, Silverass." Without thinking, I followed the other students to the top of the steps, strode through the hallways to the Great Hall and waited in a corner to be recognized.  
  
My stuff was still in my arms since I had no idea which place I was supposed to put it. I mean, honestly, when your fifty years back in the past, expect things to be different. I watched as teenager and child piled into the Great Hall, some looking up at the ceiling and then sitting down at their assigned tables with a stately order unknown to the school in my time. My eyes caught on a flash on hair so black as too be nearly blue and then another head of hair that was white as snow.  
  
Oh holy joy.  
  
Juniper was trying her best to keep from laughing when she noticed my facial expression. "My good goddess!" she gasped and burst out laughing, unable to contain it. I just stared at her, my items around my feet and my arms crossed over my chest in anger. "That was an excellent tongue- lashing. My goddess! I'm going to remember that for a long time, Ginny! You should have seen her face! Oh my goddess! It was great. I wish I had a picture for you."  
  
I just stared at her, my eyes silently scared at her manner. Then, even better, Mina and Tom walked over to me, his eyes crazed with anger almost to the breaking point of becoming red, hers hidden in the folds of his shirt as she pretended to cry her pretty eyes out. It was enough to make me want to hurl. But I refrained from doing so just because I knew Juniper wouldn't be able to handle that and Tom might do an Unforgivable Curse on me. Room full of students or no, Tom Marvolo Riddle was angry, furious, enraged and all the above. "RUSHTON!" He bellowed, "Apologize to Mina right NOW!" His cheeks were flushed a flaming red (something that, trust me, was not good for his complexion,) and his eyes blazed even more so.  
  
Fear crept into me but I would not show him such. I was making my own path, I decided, this was my time to pull loose from my parents' tethers and show them that I could manage by myself, youngest and only daughter or no. I sighed, ducking behind a mask of sarcasm and sincerity to hide my apparent fear and disgust. "I'm sorry Mina." I said. As she pulled her head out from his shirt and stared at me, a triumphant gleam echoing in her eyes, I added, "For telling the truth about what you are and not mentioning that you are a bitch, a whore, _and_ a moronic idiot that needs things simplified for you." Juniper burst out laughing so hard that tears ran freely down her cheeks unchecked and Mina ducked her head back to Tom's shirt.  
  
"RUSHTON!" He roared, "I WILL HURT YOU FOR THIS!" His eyes were now that dangerous crimson that meant he had lost control of that other self and was running wild.  
  
Oh bloody hell.  
  
His hand rose, about to strike me, and before I had time to duck or cringe in fear, it fell down, the wind whooshing with its approach, the beckoning pain about to ring through my head. And just as I cried out, a tiny sound of anticipation, his hand froze, pale white compared to the interior of the castle, the surprise and anger on his face comparing with mine. Even Mina's gleeful gaze and hyperactive wishes of my death were paused in a moment of frozen confusion as her nonexistent brain tried to work out what was happening.  
  
"Honestly, Riddle, you've got to pick on someone your own size." An exasperated voice rang out in the silence crowding our corner. I looked up to see a boy that looked about sixteen. He was tall, as most boys were, with sparkling green eyes and curly golden hair that shimmered like sunlight on a fish's scales on a hot day. Behind him stood two boys, flanking his left and right hand, wands raised protectively in front of him. His robes marked him as Gryffindor and the two flanking him looked to be from Gryffindor as well. For a moment, his angelical face locked on mine and a silent understanding passed between us. "Picking on a girl, then. What? Are we too much for you?" the boy grinned and looked at Tom's quivering hand, still about to touch me in hurt.  
  
He snarled deep in his throat. "Hello, mudbloods." He growled, "I see you haven't gained any prestige while summer was out. Tell me that you at least grabbed some brains." Tom's black eyes seemed to shine with rage. "And I wasn't going to hurt Rushton. I was just teaching her some . . .manners." He glared at me.  
  
The boy on the left snorted, his mousy brown hair, tan skin, and hazel eyes reflecting his leader's. "Oh really? Did this lesson involve making a very large bruise on her face, Riddle?"  
  
Tom clenched his jaw, hand still suspended in the air. "No! Why would I hurt my own friend?" he demanded, face blazing at the accusation. I almost grinned with the joy of being able to laugh at him and him not being able to do anything. Yet I did nothing. My face was like it was set in stone, my body twitching with the need to run anywhere. As long as I was away from Tom.  
  
"Why would someone like her hang with gutter trash like you, Riddle? Why would someone as pretty as her want to hang with you? Trying to gain allies, then? Perhaps wishing, maybe. And who's that? Your new whore?" the boy on the right, also possessing a thatch of blonde hair and green eyes, though not as beautiful as the leader, inquired. His eyes narrowed as if daring Tom to lie.  
  
To my surprise part of me wanted to help Tom. I had seen what he was like with his friends, by himself, when he was trying to protect his loyal people and defend his honor. Some part of me asked if it was right to watch this fight go on with glee, to watch a person who had saved my life be barraged with hurtful words and have wounds be opened again.  
  
But another part, the one that wanted to hate Tom, the one that wanted to fight against him till there was nothing left in me but hatred, told me to laugh, to push more insults his way and watch him realize that he couldn't win and to make him give up. That part of me wanted to see a shell of himself crumple at my feet in defeat and give up his ways. It wanted to drive a knife in him, to dig into his body with glass and swords and such and watch, happy and rejoicing, as he writhed in agony and bled to death at my feet.  
  
But that part was horrible. So horrible that I pushed it aside and crowned the other side with my affection and praise. "Leave him alone!" I cried out, my small voice ringing off the stones and into everyone's ears. "He's done nothing to you! Leave him be!" My jaw was clenched in anger that these Gryffindors, supposedly protectors and good people, could knock someone off their feet and laugh sadistically, pushing them down when they tried to rise again. Was this how everyone saw us? Were we this set in our ways that we were blind to how horrible we ourselves were? I was ashamed and my ears burned to think of what they must think of everyone else, to think that Gryffindors were better than everyone else just because of something a silly old hat barfed up every year in a stupid song.  
  
The leader looked as if struck and the brown haired boy took a step back in shock. Even Tom held a look in surprise when he saw the way I was holding myself, like a fighter ready to launch herself at the others. My hair was rampant behind my shoulders and my cheeks flushed in rage. My eyes were burning as to be an azure flame that scorched everything in its path. I don't think I was ever as protective as anything as I was at that moment of Tom. Even my knees were bent, my hands forms into tight fists and my gaze set in a way that meant I would pounce if needed. I was the red wolf again, strong and protective of others in its pack. I would help my friends, even though one was not truly anything to me.  
  
Then, suddenly, the leader started laughing. "So," he roared, "you now have a lioness on your tail, Riddle. Or maybe a wolf? Certainly as protective as one. But I think that this sister wolf is confused about you, Riddle. Doesn't she know what side she's supposed to be on? Let me tell you, fairy girl, what this boy is." My eyes narrowed in suspicion as I watched this fallen angel accuse Tom of heinous crimes. "He has cursed Hufflepuffs just because they said his name, he's slit the wrists of Gryffindors just because of who they were, tried to slaughter Ravenclaws because they have what he doesn't, and the whole time telling us that he is doing this for the benefit for the school. I can assure you, fairy girl, that you are safer with us than with anyone else. Come here, girl, and join us against him."  
  
My eyes grew wide as I listened to each of these accusations, each more horrible then the last, and then I looked at Tom. His black eyes were filled with anger and disgust towards the Gryffindor. Almost, almost, I thought I could see tears sparking up in those depths as I could see the spell about to crush his hand with its power. "Ah!" he cried out as his wrist started making little popping noises and the spell tightened even further. My mind was freezing this moment, settling it in a jewel- encrusted photo and laying it down in a golden frame, to be looked at for all eternity. Then, Tom Riddle said something I never thought he would. "Rushton. Help me." His voice was so soft that no one but I could hear him. Mina, of course, and I, his chosen listener and savior.  
  
My gaze sharpened so that the blue flame in my eyes became a blaze of fury and I directed it at the boys in front of me, my agony and hatred washing over them in quantities. "No." I said, the louder, "No! I won't join you! You are doing nothing worse than a lesser form of the Crucius curse on him and I won't let you. Let him go right now. What vengeance others will have will be their own, not yours!" With that I walked up to them, slapped the boy hard in the face and then, when I heard Tom's hand fall back to his side, marched over to him, and asked calmly, "Who are they? What are they doing?"  
  
His black eyes peered into mine and for once he didn't smirk at me, but observed me, as one might look gently at a bird and try to coax it onto it's finger. "I-I. . . They are called the Joiners. The leader is Gabriel Kelran and the one on his left is Michael Salern. The one on the right is Gabriel's cousin, Tor Kelran. They're all fifth years, same as you. Be careful around them, Rushton. They can be pretty vicious to Slytherins just because we bear the wrong founder's name. In my opinion they need to be locked away in Azkaban forever." He growled, then smirked, "Unless you really want to join them, Rushton?" Ah, this was the Tom Riddle that I knew. The one that would smirk in my face, jest about how I looked, and make nasty comments in my direction just because I was new to the world for now. Here, I felt safe, despite the fact that I knew I had boundaries that needed to be followed and to watch out for his bite.  
  
I smirked back, trying to mirror his but being unsuccessful due to the fact that he was right in front of me and trying to mirror a Dark Lord in front of a Dark Lord is hard. "No, I think I want to find out a few things before I join any Death Eater club." Then I stopped, my breathing halted and I looked on, wide-eyed as nothing changed in his face or voice or anything.  
  
For a long moment, confusion reigned in me, fighting me to question him if he was Lord Voldemort or ask him if he had picked out a name for his dark side yet. Perhaps he hadn't. "Death Eater?" he asked, his eyes were a bit lower in suspicion. "What in the gods' names are Death Eaters?" his voice was easy and light, as if he were questioning the weather or what brand of cereal he was eating. But he wasn't.  
  
And that's what scared me the most.  
  
"It's a, err, a band, back in the orphanage. We, uh, tried to make up our own singing group and we, um, called it the Death Eaters. Silly name I guess." My voice was heavy laden with worry and nerves, but Tom dismissed it with a wave of his hand.  
  
"Childhood things are too deep for me, I prefer to lock them away where no one can find them." He looked away and at the Slytherin table for a long moment, taking note of people who were there and said, "Come, Rushton. . .please. Let's go sit down at the Slytherin table for a moment while they name the peoples' houses."  
  
He walked away with Mina, who looked like a cat with her tail just trod on. Apparently the little spitfire fight between us was not over yet. She was bound to make sure of that, I knew.  
  
Before I could follow, Juniper gripped my arm. "Ginny, are you okay?" She asked, her brows furrowed in consternation, "You hate Tom, I know, but you were just talking to him like you were old friends or something, not hated enemies." I shrugged then froze. Don't tell me that fate was apprehending the situation. Or trying to. Gods, STOP! I warned myself quickly. Reminding myself how it had felt once to be close to someone, to be betrayed. A memory came again. More memories of the diary, of Tom Riddle, of the Chamber of Secrets.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"Tom," I wrote, my handwriting was elegant and neat, each letter scrawled to perfection as they swirled in on themselves and into the diary. "Are you there?"  
  
"Yes." Came the answer, lettered messily and hastily, as if he were dying for companionship. That was good. I was too. It was fun to have a friend for once. Someone to talk to, err, write to anyway, that would listen and give advice so that you could fix it easily. It was great. I just wished Tom were real.  
  
"Guess what?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I got an A (A/N: I can't find the grades that Hogwarts gives out on papers so we'll just go with these, K?) On a potions assignment today."  
  
"That's good."  
  
"Well, I would have."  
  
"But?"  
  
"But crummy Snape said it was unsatisfactory and gave me a D. Stupid slimy git. I wish he would just crawl up and die."  
  
"Is he that bad?"  
  
"Worse. He thinks that all Gryffindors should crawl up and die and that Slytherins should rule the world and make everyone else crawl up and die."  
  
"You seem to think that a lot of people should crawl up die, Gin."  
  
"Well! It's true! He ALWAYS shoots we glares when he gives us a lecture on a test or something. It's absolutely horrid!"  
  
"I have a teacher that does that."  
  
"Really? Which one?"  
  
"Ah, just a professor. He likes to watch my friends and I carefully during class, almost as if I'm going to take over the world and make everyone crawl up and die."  
  
"That's not nice."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You made fun of me."  
  
"So?"  
  
"That's mean you know."  
  
"Oh, I do know. Hence why I did it to you."  
  
"You're funny, Tom."  
  
"Am I truly?"  
  
"Yes, you are."  
  
"Thank you, Gin."  
  
"You're my best friend too, Tom. I wish I could see you. I want to know if I make you laugh sometimes. Do you laugh at the things I tell you, Tom?"  
  
"Yes, Gin. You make me laugh. You're one of my best friends as well. Maybe, someday, we will meet."  
  
"Where do you live?"  
  
"Somewhere where it is cold, and dark. There are lots of snakes where a live but no people."  
  
"Aren't you afraid of the snakes?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because they are my friends, Gin. Just like you."  
  
"Goodnight, Tom. I'll write you in the morning, okay?"  
  
"Alright, Gin. Sweet dreams."  
  
With a sigh, I closed the book, imaging what Tom would look like if I ever met him. I didn't know that time would come closer than I liked.  
  
*~Three months later, Chamber of Secrets~*  
  
"TOM! No! Please, don't hurt Harry." I shouted, tears threatening to strangle what was left of my voice and drown out all us. My hand was holding the hem of my robes as he stared me, eyes unblinking and bottomless black. I thought that he was handsome, when I first met him. That I might be able to start doing more than liking him and start loving him, trust him more. But that had proved a horrible mistake.  
  
"Or what, Gin, what will you do? Will you scream for help, though your voice may be silent and echoing in vast space with no one to hear you? Will you try to run, though your legs will carry you nowhere fast and you will descend only into darkness? I wouldn't worry much, Gin. No one will save you, because Potter will fail. Just like my friend failed me at the moment of truth. Ah, we were like brothers, my friend and I. Both of us. Like your brother and Potter, if I understand well. Oh well, blood calls friends, I suppose." He smirked at me.  
  
"What are you talking about, Tom? What do you mean, bloods calls friends?" I was growing panicked. He had never talked to me in this way before. Slowly, very slowly, he started to walk around me, assessing me quickly, quietly. "Tom?" I asked, clutching the hem of my robes desperately as he circled around me like a vulture over a carcass. "Tom? What are you doing? Tom?" He had stopped in front of me, his eyes scrutinizing my face. I gulped inaudibly as he stepped even closer to me.  
  
Then he leaned in so that our faces were so close that only a centimeter impeded our lips from touching. "What are you afraid of the most, Ginny?" he whispered, lips moving steadily to my ears. "What gives you the most nightmares at night? What makes your blood curl in your veins and your heart beat fast when you lie alone in the dark?"  
  
His voice tickled my ear, causing me to shiver. I pulled back and stared at him defiantly. "I am afraid of nothing, Tom!" I said, quickly.  
  
Maybe a bit too quickly. "Are you afraid of me, Virginia?" He hissed and gripped my arm between his strong fingers.  
  
My blue eyes widened and I tried to disguise the look of fear in them. "N-no. I'm-I'm not afraid of anyone, Tom." I said loudly. My heart was beating too loud. He might hear it, I thought and tried to get away.  
  
"Wrong answer, Ginny." He hissed with a smirk and drained so much energy from me that I fell to the floor in front of the statue of Salazar Slytherin, blackness inking my vision to nothing.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
I shivered as the memory swept over me and I stared at Juniper for a long moment, weighing my words as they passed through my lips. "Words mean nothing, Juniper, they are just dust, to be blown away by an invisible hand when all is done. Such are my words to Riddle and to you."  
  
Juniper nodded like a sage and smiled gravely. "You should be in Ravenclaw, for all those pretty sayings in your head. It makes people want to think before they do anything for you." With that said and done we walked over to the Slytherin table and proceeded to listen to talk that ranged from Quidditch and from the latest workings of the world's best designer. I sat between Juniper and Lorna, ever my protectors in times with too many people around. For some reason I felt distant from everything. As if I wasn't really supposed to be there or like I didn't belong. I had only felt that feeling sometimes, when I was around Richard's future grandson Harry and his friends. Other than that, I had no real friends. Acquaintances, plenty of, but no real friends that I confided in often enough or anything to be anymore than that. Perhaps that was how the gods had made it. How they had woven their design on the loom of life for me. That I was to be a loner without any real stability to hold on to, to grasp when the ground might shake and tear away from me.  
  
Juniper tried to talk to Lorna, who was also trying to flirt with a boy from Slytherin and from Hufflepuff all at the same time. In the end, she twisted towards me and whispered, "Dead as a doornail to the world when she's around guys, I swear. A flying pig could go over her head and she wouldn't care as long as she was talking with a guy."  
  
I snorted, looked down at the table and then looked up suddenly, wondering, are doornails dead? For some reason that crossed my mind too many times as the first years rose up and showed themselves to their new peers. There was one that reminded me of myself when I first came, for she was red haired and smaller than the rest, her hair shining like a beacon's first healthy light into the darkness. I grinned at that, my world suddenly a bit happier and more pleasant to look at. Everyone needed a light, I decided then and there, everyone had a counterpoint, to knock him or her down when they get in the danger of being too high or help him or her up when they are too low. To guide them through the darkness when it was too big and was about to swallow them up. Perhaps I was somebody's light. Maybe even somebody's darkness, I thought, thinking hard on whom I might be a light too. No body came to mind after a while so I gave up, turning my thoughts instead on if the headmaster knew I was there.  
  
I already knew that Dumbledore was not the headmaster of this time. Hogwarts: A History had assured me of that multiple times. I knew also that the headmaster of this time was Professor Dippet, an old wizard with long gray hair and a short beard that was colored like salt and pepper mixed together to form a wild tapestry that looked like the loom had blown up in his face. When I saw him, I nearly laughed out loud, for he was short and funny looking. The blue robes and hat he wore looked about five times his size and he had the tendency to roll up the voluminous sleeves as he talked, turning and twisting about as if trying to find a comfortable place in the folds of such a garment.  
  
When he spoke it was loud and commanding. Surprising, really, for such a small person. He had not the twinkle in his small brown eyes as he talked, like Dumbledore, but only a soft sort of plush look to them that made me wonder that if I pushed my finger against his eye, would it pop or sink in slowly like a feather cushion does when someone lays in it? "Students, first years!" he greeted us all, smiling at us with aging teeth in a broad smile, "Welcome to the school of witchcraft and wizardry, Hogwarts!" There was a loud cheer from the tables and even Slytherin joined in, a head above the rest as they stood up and clapped hard, slamming their fists on the table and their feet on the floor in an effort to make their pride known. I thought of how this would have startled Dumbledore, or how surprised everyone in our school would be if anyone did that in my time. When everyone died down, Professor Dippet continued to smile and he waved at a first year girl, a thin, sickly girl with a long curly mass of white-blonde hair and bright green eyes. "We will start off with the Sorting Hat, then we shall welcome the new students and eat our fill. Then retire for a full day ahead and all the fun of learning."  
  
There was another set of loud cheers at this, though none as loud as when they announced the school's name. "Abontea, Mark!" called out someone, and I whirled my head to see the auburn haired wizard from Diagon Alley. His twinkling blue eyes reminded me of someone, but I couldn't remember so I stared hard at him for a long moment, trying to make sense of it, when suddenly Juniper yanked my sleeve, hard enough for me to nearly flip onto the floor and die of shame.  
  
"There's my sister!" she cried softly and pointed to the thin, sickly looking girl that Professor Dippet had waved at earlier. I saw that, indeed, the girl resembled Juniper, though not with her beauty for she looked to worn and haggard for that. Her head was high, proud to be there and included but her face soft enough that it was easy to say she was kind. Her long white-blonde hair curled in ringlets to her tiny waist in ecstasy and I saw that a pale, slender finger was trapped in those white-blonde bindings as she nervously twirled a curl around it and played with it absentmindedly. I saw how she chewed her bottom lip, which was as white as snow like her skin and her sister's hair, and how she quivered with fear as every name was called till the reached hers. She was small, almost invisible in the mob of first years, yet she stood apart without much prompting. I made in my mind a promise that I would befriend this girl, make her well again, a shadow of her sister's beauty and more so. Perhaps even teach her a few things about wisdom, kindness, love, and such as my mother had taught me.  
  
"She's sick," I said and pursed my lips in worry, "What is the matter?"  
  
Juniper sighed. "My parents. They think that. . . they think that beauty is the most any girl can aspire and they try to make us as skinny as possible, almost to the point of starvation. Three of my older sisters died with the treatment they are giving my sister and I now. Since those three they have lessened up on the food rations, permitting us to eat two small meals now and have five cups of water before bed. Hyacinth has never . . .recovered from those treatments that my parents give her."  
  
I gaped openly at Juniper and then twisted my head to watch as Hyacinth placed the hat on her head. "Ambrose, Hyacinth!" She clambered up the steps, trying very hard not to tremble. Her long white-blonde curls swung freely behind her, floating to her back almost instantly before another step was taken and they were swept behind her like a cloak again. She sat on the stool, the hat placed on her glorious mane of hair, her thin face scared but held another form of excitement on it. Before long the thing bellowed out, "RAVENCLAW!" and then fell silent. Ravenclaw jumped to its feet, proud to have such a person with them in their house, and clapped their hands to oblivion.  
  
Hyacinth Ambrose seemed proud to be in Ravenclaw, and I watched intently as she sighed underneath the hat's recesses and grinned, walking to her table, hair floating behind her. I sighed inwardly. Oh well, even if she wasn't in Slytherin no doubt I would be able to make friends with the girl when she approached her sister or something. I needed to make some friends, young or old. After all, having no friends would be kinda. . . boring.  
  
Finally, my stomach growled and I began to pray to every god and goddess that I knew that food would arrive. The sad thing was: we were still in the A's. Remarkably, Juniper seemed to notice and she would try to distract me from my hunger by pointing out fun things and showing off a few things that she could do. Like move only the top part of her finger but not the rest of it. When I tried it, my whole finger curled up, but hers just stood straight, only the top bent. Then she showed me that she could make a heart and a four-leaf clover with her tongue. _That_ was miraculous in my opinion. For a long time, that's how Juniper entertained me, Lorna pitching in only when she stopped staring at her Hufflepuff sweetheart or playing footsie with the boy from Slytherin. Then the last names were called and Professor Dippet stood up. I felt like running up there and kissing his bearded face over and over again, I was so hungry.  
  
But his words were not those of food. More like about us. "Again, welcome to Hogwarts new students. I will admit that seeing some of this brought back my first days of Hogwarts. The tricks we would play. But that is not what I am standing to speak of. I want to introduce two new students for you. One of which I was informed of, the other I was not. It doesn't matter, however, if I were informed, because now I know and I can assign you both to a table. Will Mina Silverglass and Virginia Rushton please stand up?" (A/N: anybody thinking of that one Eninem song?)  
  
Everybody in the Hall turned to watch as my stomach gave one last pathetic growl, and Mina and I stood up. Mina was smiling softly, her black hair falling in waves around her slim shoulders and her face radiant with all the attention. I myself looked horrid. Standing in front of people tended to make me sick and it showed on my face as it turned both white, then red, then a pale green, then red again to match my hair. I was practically thinking of shouting: "Look everyone! I'm a Christmas light!" but Dippet saved me the trouble by abruptly looking at me and smiling, saying, "State which is which, children, as well as your age and such."  
  
Mina opened her mouth first, coyly placing a white hand on her hip as she spoke. "I am Mina Silverglass." The emphasis was placed on her last name as she looked at me and then she continued, "I am from a small school in Ile de France that was for girls only. I was the number one student there and I come here now for a special class that is given only here and was not at my school."  
  
Professor Dippet raised his brows and asked, "Which is this subject, my dear, that you wish to study?"  
  
"I wish to learn Potions. At my school, we had no teacher that would present anything close to a potion to us, thinking it was evil and unkind to learn. Anyway, back to me, I am sixteen years old and in my sixth year. My family is the straightest line of purebloods that are in France and we are highly thought of." She smiled a bit at this, then continued, "We are famed for our strategic natures and very interesting way at getting what we want." She winked at a Gryffindor boy, who abruptly coughed and tried to look away but couldn't. "That's is all."  
  
Professor Dippet smiled and I could see that he had already fallen for Mina's traps, heedless of the danger presented. She was a raven among doves, anyone could see that! Why couldn't the headmaster? I wanted to shout in outrage, to scream and name her poisons right in front of him. But that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. That was easy to tell. "And you are, child?" He asked, raising his brows gently in question.  
  
Just as I was about to lose my temper. Just as I was about to scream at Mina and declare her what she was, my eyes caught on sparkling sapphire and my tongue halted. The old man with rich auburn hair was gently smiling at me, to anyone else it would seem like he was just staring at me, not noticing anything. But I could see that in his mind he knew Mina's game plan. That he had not fallen for her tricks.  
  
Swallowing my fear, I presented myself. "I am Virginia Rushton. I am fifteen years tomorrow and I'm in fifth year. My family is known for their red hair and their short tempers, which seem like an explosion of hatred and anger to those who have faced even the worst down."  
  
Short as it was, it was precise and to the point, something I was dreadfully good at when I was nervous. The headmaster noticed this and he said, "What of your family, child?"  
  
I swallowed thickly, feeling everyone's eyes on me. In a thin whisper and with downcast eyes, I murmured, "They're gone, sir." The headmaster, to my great embarrassment, leaned forward, pressing his hand to his ear. I said louder, "They're gone, sir." Still he could not hear me so I shouted, "They're gone, sir!"  
  
Professor Dippet sat down, nodding. "Are they somewhere else other than Britain or what?" I gaped at him. How precise did he want me to be? No wait, scratch that! How _old_ was this man?  
  
"My family is dead, sir. I'm an orphan." I shouted and he nodded, saying quickly, "My apologies, my hearing is getting quite horrible these days. I'm getting to old for this job," I nodded, ready to sit down when he said, "Miss Silverglass, will you please take a seat on the stool. And Miss Rushton, will you stand in front of her so that you can be ready to take the stool as soon as she's done with the hat? Thank you."  
  
Mina and I walked quickly up to the stool that stood ominously at the front of the Great Hall. I could feel my hands get sweaty and clammy, my legs shaking with terror, and my face burning from all the eyes directed on me, assessing how much meat they could take off my bones before I gave up. I had not mentioned that I was a pureblood, for it seemed to me that it didn't matter. To Tom it might, but it would never matter for me. As long as you could do magic or believed in it, you were able to do anything you wished, pureblood or no. I wasn't going to stop them if the halfbloods or the non-wizarding folk wanted to study magic. Good for them, I thought as I marched up to the steps and stood in front of the hat, facing Mina as she sat it on her head and plastered a smile on her face.  
  
No sooner had she put it on that the grungy old thing shouted, "SLYTHERIN!" loud enough that it reverberated through the whole school. Gods, I thought as my bones trembled from the voice's impact, you'd think it was a few centuries younger with the way its voice sounds now. I watched Mina climb off the stool, smiling from ear to ear with a malicious grin that echoed in the heart and soul and reeked of evil to come.  
  
Then it was my turn.  
  
To this day I don't know why the hat struggled with the houses. Perhaps it was because of my age. Perhaps because I was from a different time period. Maybe because I had already been placed in a house before and now everything in my life had changed. I do know that that day was horrible. The day I was denounced from ever truly being anything by a little nagging voice in my head. That reminded me of my roots and clambered over everything in my mind to try and sort me somewhere and how much it hurt to have a freaking HAT crawl through every memory, every word and saying and thought I had ever birthed in human form to find where I belonged and not be able to find anything special enough. I know that before, in my first year, it didn't matter because I was a Weasley and all Weasleys belonged in Gryffindor and that's why it was lax on us. I know that it didn't take near so much time or pressure, pain or pleasure before to sort me out somewhere. Nothing in the world hurt so much as that moment, when the Sorting Hat drudged up every piece of my being to find out why it's senses told it that I was something special, a box rated X that no one could truly understand because of the silly thoughts and memories a girl with red hair and a fairy face possessed. I do know that I wept.  
  
As I sat on the stool and closed my eyes and placed the Sorting Hat on my head the aura around my body and around that stool changed. Everything changed. I felt myself being dragged into a vortex where the Hat could see me more clearly, where no one had ever gone before in the history of the Sorting Hat's reign. The first thing that struck me was how cold it was. How much my breath turned to ice crystals in front of my mouth and how my nostrils froze in their effort to breathe just one fragile breath. How dark and lonely it was. Then I realized, this is the Sorting Hat's mind. This is what it never shows to people.  
  
Then came the Sorting Hat's black voice, creeping over every sense I had to make me remember every fault I had ever committed. It brought nightmares and horrors galore that would make even the most hardened wizard cringe and fall to their knees. 'Hello, girl. You are separate, you know. You're different.'  
  
Its voice was a cold thing. Something that belonged in an artic sewer for it was slimy and slippery too. It grated against my mind like against a chalkboard, echoing, echoing everything and yet nothing. With every word that slipped off the Sorting Hat's tongue and into my mind, I felt pain and cold and darkness drench my body and mind.  
  
'What are you talking about?' I asked it. Next to it, my voice was light and cheerful, like butterflies in a meadow full of sunflowers and fluffy clouds with a sapphire sky. That made me shiver the most. Why had no one seen this side of the Hat? Why did it bring me here? Why was I not being Sorted?  
  
'You say you are Virginia Rushton, yet you are not. You say you are an orphan, yet you are not. You say that you are going to be fifteen soon, yet you will never turn fifteen. Truth prevents me from seeing otherwise. Why, child?' the voice crawled through me again, scraping against my files of everything in my mind. Gods, how it hurt!  
  
'Truth shows what it will, sir. I will prevent nothing from you; just let me out of here, please. Sort me, sir, for that is your job and my task for this moment of time.' My accent was pleading, begging it to release me from the frozen hell.  
  
'No. I must have answers to Sort you, child. You are wise, for one so young. That I have noticed. Perhaps too wise to be shown outside your mind. Perhaps your wisdom is to be contained, as they will it to be. Tell me, child, who are you truly?'  
  
'I can't tell you. Sort me from what you know, sir. I will withhold nothing from you but what I must keep.' Then I handed it a key, a silver key that allowed it free access of everything, something I never even knew existed or that I held. Yet a kept the golden key that opened the door to both my heart and secrets. That key was for me alone.  
  
'Ah, you are kind, child. Perhaps too kind. You know, now, what a horrid creation I am; yet you present me with this gift of thought and illusion. I shall take this, child, and not betray you. Do you fear me?'  
  
'I fear nothing in this place, only what lies in shadow and ice, waiting to be melted.'  
  
'You fear yourself then, child? Why?'  
  
'Because I can hurt and punish myself more than anyone else can. Surely you have met such people.'  
  
'Only one. Such a person has also seen the recesses of my mind, and yet he did not shiver and withhold information from me, as you do now, child. Is your will less strong or are you stronger? To allow me trust and a key is a harsh thing to do. Make sure you chose wisely, child.'  
  
'I am certain you are trustworthy, sir. Do as you will.'  
  
'Are you prepared? This will hurt, child, though I will not want it to be so, it shall be so.'  
  
'Do as you will, sir.'  
  
Before I had a chance to think of what it might look it, the pain washed over me, like a wave over the beach and over a frail shell. That shell was being pounding in with wave after wave of pain. I thought of screaming as the key was thrust into the door lock of my thoughts and twisted. I thought that nothing could be worse. The pain was horrible. Like a thousand lions punching tooth after tooth after tooth into my body and holding it there before letting another lion take its place and do it again. It was worse than a billion spears thrust into my heart or a trillion swords slashing off my body parts, one after the other. Worse than flame creeping slowly over my body to give a slow, roasting death or feeling blades thrust into you and twisting, slowly, ever so slowly, so that your tormentor could hear your screams and laugh at them as you lost breath and had to inhale painfully the metal and iron that was echoing through your body and then exhale over again to voice your agony.  
  
More than anything, I regretted my decision. My decision to trust, to let others in, to let someone see the real me. But was it the real me? Wouldn't I feel worse pain if it were the real me?  
  
Before I could think of another question, the Sorting Hat went deeper and deeper into my thoughts, roving, scrutinizing and piecing together every bit of memory or thought I had in order to place me somewhere good. Then I know I screamed and I knew I was not far away from my body. I could feel it; a slender thread of silver that meant if I went to far the silver line would snap and I would die for a body cannot live long without the mind. For some reason, that comforted me. After a while in that state, my mind screaming, my thoughts bleeding with pain and my body saturated with it as the Hat pushed deeper and deeper, looking for evidence that I might belong anywhere, I realized that I could feel everything that was happening to my body, that I could see through my eyes and look at the Great Hall and its contents.  
  
Through such a way, detached yet still there, I saw Juniper, clutching hard to the table's edge in order to keep from diving out of her seat and rescue me from this hell. I saw Tom, his arm wrapped around Mina's tiny waist as they both looked on in some perverse joy as my body felt the pain and responded by screaming, weeping and writhing on the stool, then fell to the ground and cringed as wave after wave of pain swept over me. I saw Jack, staring openmouthed at me, the Hat still on my head. I saw Richard, his eyes narrowed in fear, suspicion and curiosity as he tried to decide if he should act or not. I saw Lorna, working her brain hard to see what was doing this to me since I had something as innocent as the Sorting Hat on my head. The headmaster and the old man with the auburn hair had stood, ready to act and take the Hat off my head, yet uncertain of what to do. The auburn haired man knew, though, I thought as I watched his expression change. He knew what was happening to me as I wept and shrieked and flinched and curled up on myself. But he didn't know how to end it; I thought with regret, he doesn't know how to stop such torture.  
  
'STOP!' I screamed at the Sorting Hat as it tried to dig under my boundaries and see more, 'STOP! You are reaching nothing but causing me pain!' To my surprise, the Hat backed out quickly and the pain stopped. I watched my body's face become blank and empty as the agony went away. My face was carved of stone. No tear or sweat drop rolled on my face. Everything froze on me and everyone stared in wonder at the girl with red hair that had been the essence of anguish a few seconds ago became more blank than a clean sheet of parchment. The headmaster and the auburn man both sat down, calm and agreeing with the situation.  
  
'I warned you, child, but it seemed that only tripped your mind's defenses. Would you like me to try again?'  
  
'No, just pick a house and I will grow there. Place any obstacle and I will jump over it or knock it down. Time is of no importance to me.'  
  
'And it should not be, for soon you shall be older than time itself, child.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'It is nothing, only a side effect. I shall tell you soon, child, when you visit me again, for I know that you shall, as it is in your blood. I have not gleaned enough information about you in order to bless you with any house, for your mind shouts only one answer for me.'  
  
'Take that answer then. I will flourish in that house, then, sir. Just make your choice and I will accept it.'  
  
'But that is the problem. There is no choice. You belong to nothing. You are your own house. That is the only problem, child. You will flourish and grow, true, in any house I place you, but the one that you will have freely is blocked, for it is your own heart that you desire, a place of no boundaries and no qualms. But that place has been sealed off for some reason. Your heart has stopped beating. It's inhabitants are dead and rotting. Only there will you be content with your house.'  
  
'Then pick a temporary one.'  
  
'Yes, child. I will pick a temporary one. When your heart beats again with flame and ice, when your soul dances in your breast again and your mind sings with love I will place you in your house, for then you will reach the full extent of your power.'  
  
'And what house will that be?'  
  
But before the Hat could answer that question, the Sorting Hat opened its mouth and told the world its decision.  
  
River-Star: Wow! That was long. No doubt boring for all of my readers too. I'm sorry it was boring but I had to fill you guys in on a few things. Tom's not the only rival she has, apparently, and this chapter had to be long enough to fit in both her talk with the Sorting Hat and more info on Juniper and about who her rival was. If I've said anything that wrong in this chapter, I'm sorry, will you tell me about it in a review or something? I've just moved so I'm sorry this hasn't been put up sooner. I swear, I could get lost in my house! Feel free to ask questions and stuff in your reviews! 


	10. I'm the Boss! Need the Info!

River-Star: Thanks to all my readers:  
  
Niamh: Wow! That's so cool! I like a Hogwarts Riddle too but when Serpentina didn't update I was furious.  
  
Shanna: hee, hee, hee. No worries on the updating. *Grins*  
  
Life Sucks: I'd never ditch this thing! I'm having way too much fun writing it so I see no reason to forget it.  
  
Simple-siam: ha ha haha ha . . . ha ha! I do believe this is the first time anyone has ever called anything I did: brilliant.  
  
HeatherM: I'm not telling . . . yet  
  
Firefly of hell: Finally! Someone that likes Yu-Gi-Oh! And reads my HP fic besides Adel! (No offense Adel!) I've seen up to the point where Joey snaps out of his mind slavery with Marik. And I used size ten font too, by the way. It wasn't very hard either. I had a goal and I made it. I'm immensely proud of myself now. *Grins*  
  
Princess of Evil: Hmmm. . . . Do you like Ancient Egyptian stuff? Your email is another version of the name of Tut's wife (and sister *cough cough*) but it could just be that you like the Mummy or the Mummy Returns. Both of which are the near-best movies I've ever seen. *Grins*  
  
Miss Black: No one has ever called any of my stuff brilliant. I have five dogs: one husky, a German Shepard, two shih tzus (sp???) and a terrier- Maltese-poodle mix. I'm sorry about your pets. My friend had a rabbit named Max that she'd had for about ten years and when he died she was so heartbroken that she took a day off of school because she couldn't face anyone that day without crying. It was horrible.  
  
Ennui2: Thanks.  
  
Wizzabee: Evil is a harsh word. I think that 'misunderstood in my goodness' displays me perfectly. *looks backwards at little brother, who is hanging on the ceiling screaming profanities* Err . . . I take that back. *grins sheepishly* And Tom and Mina are now a couple. Like I said, Mina is Ginny's rival, in all things, but Ginny doesn't want to get with Tom, so she's trying to avoid him.  
  
NOTE: again this: _word_ means emphasis  
  
Chapter Ten (Double digits! OH YEAH!)  
  
"Ravenclaw!"  
  
I lay beneath the hat, finally able to regain all senses and sit up. My body was quaking with the past pain and I felt the familiar empty feeling that was always left after some huge feeling abandoned me.  
  
Before I had time to realize what the Sorting Hat had said, I stood up, brushed off my robes and placed the hat back on the stool with a feeling of calm, which must have freaked a lot of people out since they were all gaping at me. "How surprising," I muttered and grimaced a little at the silence. For me there was no applause, no cheering or stomping of the feet. Just silence.  
  
And how beautiful it was.  
  
Then Juniper stood up and clapped. By the sudden sound ringing off cobblestones and the medieval interior, everyone snapped out of their revere and clapped hesitantly. I offered a weak smile to my friend, who nodded her head graciously and disappeared. Still calm and reserved, I walked quickly over to the Ravenclaw table and sat down just as quickly without meeting anyone's eyes. I knew what they thought of me already, though I had heard none of their personal views. "Freak," someone whispered, though when I looked around I saw no one that was whispering or anything. I looked in the direction of the whisper and saw a boy, no older than Tom, clapping and smiling with the rest. Though his mouth never moved, I could hear his whispering. "What kind of person walks up, takes the Sorting Hat, and starts writhing in pain? A freak, that's who. She's a freak and we ought to discard her. I'll tell the others to leave her alone."  
  
I wondered briefly who the 'others' were but didn't question it. I stared at the boy for one moment longer than twisted my gaze away and stared instead at the table. "As long as Robert says so, we'll befriend her. I wonder why the Hat did such a thing to her." I looked up again in the direction of the whisper and saw a girl standing apart from the crowd of Ravenclaws. "She's looking at me!" She whispered than smiled and giggled at my surprised face. What in the muffins was going on? I wondered. They aren't even moving their mouth and I can hear them! What is this? Some sort of experiment. I looked towards the Hat, blanching a little at how it looked like it was smiling at me and I thought furiously, When I get to that Hat . . .  
  
In three minutes I had come up with a new book: How to Kill a Sorting Hat in Ten Minutes. (A/N: Like 'How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days' but better! Okay, shutting up now.)  
  
Soon the Headmaster had the stage again, and he commanded it with humor this time. "After that . . ." he shook his head as if ridding himself of a scary thought and continued, "Interesting encounter with the Sorting Hat, we can now safely say it has a temper." He grinned at me and at the rest of the students, willing us to share his joke. Everyone but Juniper and I laughed. "Now then, I don't know about you but watching someone be in agonizing pain has brought up my appetite. I think its time for food!"  
  
At that everyone cheered. My face, no doubt whiter than a ghost, turned paler at his joke and everyone's laughter of it. "Sadist," I muttered under my breath and watched as tasty plates of food began to appear before us. (A/N: As in, the food was tasty . . . not the plates . . . there would be a problem if that were true . . . *large tomato is thrown at head and River-Star ducks* Ah! Okay, okay! I'll shut up!) I reached forward and grabbed a green apple and started to take a bite. Before I could it blew up in my face and bits of apple and drops of the juice flew all over the place, but mostly on me.  
  
"Hee hee hee!" I heard someone laughed and looked up to see Peeves grinned down at me. Well, I thought with a shrug, something's never change. I removed a charred piece of apple from my cheek, looked at it, and threw it at him. Peeves was hit in the nose with the sliver and he stared at me in astonishment before grinning dangerously. "Rushy Rushton's got a temper to match that hair of hers!" With that he swooped down, grabbed five more apples and flung them, one by one, at me.  
  
Being Seeker for Gryffindor for a few months sure paid off is all I have to say. I gripped each of the apples as they were hurled at me and flung them back at him with all my might, cursing him in my thoughts. One hit him in the forehead, another in the leg, two in the stomach and the last one in the place that hurts boys the most. I grinned as he winced at my throws and stuck his tongue out at me "Oooh! Rushy Rushton's got a good arm too. I wonder if she's got a good pain tolerance too." He made a pointed look at the Hat and said, "Then again, maybe not." I watched as his ugly face scrunched up in disappointment.  
  
"Cram it, Peeves." I shouted at him, enraged and a bit tender about the pain tolerance. If only I could reach him, I thought with disgust, he wouldn't have anything to talk with.  
  
Peeves made a face of mock astonishment. "Oooooh! She even knows my name. Maybe she's intelligent enough to know that I'm a good aim too!" He reached the Ravenclaw table, most of which were laughing to both his expense and mine and grabbed a strange looking item that was purple and spiky. "Do you know what this is, Rushy Rushton? It's a fruit that grows only in the desert. It's called Dragon Fruit. I bet I can hit you with it." He grinned in the only way he could: Nastily.  
  
I snarled, "Bring it on, moron." And before I knew it, the Dragon Fruit was thrown hard at me and I caught it.  
  
I suppose that should have been a good thing, since it was aimed towards my face. Gods, it certainly seemed like a good idea at the time. But afterwards . . . oh bloody hell. I felt the spikes dig into my palm as I held it tightly and watched as garnet spots of red started to drip onto the ground. I cried out, tears stinging my eyes and dropped the fruit instantly, bowing my head over my wounded hand. Blood rose fast in the tiny holes that indented my palm and I stared in helpless fascination as the wine color spread all over my hand and began to pour onto the ground in strange amounts.  
  
"Maybe Rushy Rushton's not so smart then," Peeves said sadly as if he truly cared. But when I looked up, I saw the wide grin on his face and bowed to the ground to pick up the Dragon Fruit. Holding it more carefully I hurled it at him. It struck his most sensitive area and I turned tail and fled, stopping only once to get a green apple and then run out of the Great Hall again.  
  
Tears rippled their way down my cheeks as I ran. Gods, how humiliating was that? I thought and ran harder, wanting to get away. Tomorrow's my birthday, I said to myself in my mind, and I hate it now. I don't want to know what Peeves will do when he finds out, though he probably already does. I winced as more blood dripped off my hand and spattered onto the ground behind me. I didn't stop though, not once.  
  
As I ran I looked for someplace to hide so that I could cry. I would never cry in front of one of the students or a teacher as I had decided long ago that I wouldn't. That would be even more embarrassing. I can show anger and hatred, I thought, but not sorrow. Everything else was neutral.  
  
The corridors of the school seemed even darker than usual. In the Hogwarts I knew, the corridors were bright and cheery. But this wasn't the Hogwarts I had grown up in. This was a different Hogwarts. One that held evil in it without knowing. And as such, the rooms were different and I didn't know where to go.  
  
Finally I decided on the only place a girl could really be alone: the bathroom.  
  
Ducking my head as I went in, I ran to the sink, dropped my hand under the faucet and turned it to the cold. Almost instantly cold water washed over my hand and it dripped on it with relish. I released a hard sigh as the pain turned to a numb feeling and pressed my hand closer to the pipe. I watched with interest as the water turned red underneath my palm and washed into the drain to meld with the other red liquid drops.  
  
Watching it, I felt calm, almost detached.  
  
"I knew I'd find you here," said a voice. I jumped and whirled around, scared out of my wits. Riddle? I thought and then breathed a sigh. No, it wasn't Riddle. Instead I was facing a girl with huge thick glasses and muddy brown pigtails on each side of her head. Dorky, I thought, but friendly. The girl was shy as she approached me and I wondered why. "I come up here often. To cry." She added the last only after she saw my glistening tears. "There's really nothing to be ashamed of about it. It could be worse."  
  
"How?" I asked in a watery voice and sniffed. "I was just humiliated in front of the whole school and by Peeves of all people. Not someone intelligent or anything, but Peeves! He doesn't even have half a brain for the gods' sakes!"  
  
The girl giggled and placed both hands behind her back shyly. "True. I'm usually made fun of around here."  
  
"What's your name?" I asked attentively.  
  
The girl giggled again, placing a hand in front of her mouth as if too shy to even show me how she laughed and said, "I'm Myrtle. Some people call me Moaning Myrtle because I cry a lot."  
  
I grinned and said, "I'm Virginia Rushton. You can call me Ginny, though. What house are you in?" What if she's in Ravenclaw? I wondered excitedly, she'd know the password and I can go to my room.  
  
"I'm in Ravenclaw with you, Ginny." She said and then added, "Do you think. . . Can I call you my friend?" She pushed her hands in front of her and started to play with them, her eyes downcast and staring at the floor.  
  
My smile must have broadened at that moment. "I don't see why not." I replied and stared as she looked at me in disbelief and pure joy.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Sure. I would love to have you as a friend, Myrtle." She giggled again and pressed her hands to her mouth in happiness.  
  
"Thank you, Ginny! I. . .I don't have any friends so you'd be my first! Oh thank you so much! You have no idea how lonesome it is without a friend or anything to talk to. I don't suppose you're hungry, are you? Because I. . .well, I don't like eating with the other people because they make fun of my glasses and all so I take some food and eat here or in my room. And I brought lots of extra that I'm not going to eat and I thought that you might be hungry. Would you like some?" Myrtle seemed to rush saying everything, as if I would decide that she was stupid and she needed to justify it.  
  
I looked at my single green apple that was now covered in blood, tears, and water and smiled at her. "Okay. What'd you get?"  
  
She grinned back tenderly and reached down into her pockets, grabbing both a handkerchief and the food and laying it out after years of practice. As she took the food items out she pointed to each one. "Chicken, scones, biscuits, an apple, and some hazelnuts. I could have gotten more since my pockets are really big but I didn't want to put mashed potatoes in my pockets." She giggled and I laughed and then we smiled at each other in understanding.  
  
I reached over, took a biscuit and a chicken leg and crammed pieces of both into my mouth at once. Myrtle watched with big eyes as I devoured the two apples, five hazelnuts, a chicken leg and the biscuits. "Oh my!" she said and giggled, "You really were hungry, weren't you?"  
  
I stopped chewing a piece of biscuit to say, "I haven't even had breakfast." And then smashed the rest of the biscuit into my mouth. I chewed with relish as the sweet taste blossomed in my mouth like a flower in the sun and swallowed thickly. "Yum," I said and reached for another hazelnut.  
  
She laughed then, not giggled, laughed and said in her girly voice, "I'm going to go get some more."  
  
I stared after her as she left and closed the door behind her, but shook my head and dug into the food once more. After a long time of silence and stuffing my face, she came back, crying and without food. I looked at her in alarm. "What happened, Myrtle?"  
  
She looked at me, took off her glasses, wiped away the tears and sniffled. "That stupid girl! I hate her! She called me a warthog with four eyes!" I could see how her tears made splotches all over her skin and got up to help her.  
  
I hugged her with one arm around her shoulders and said, "Shush, shush. What else did she say, Myrtle? I'll beat her to a pulp if I find out who it is . . ." I snarled the last menacingly enough that Myrtle actually looked up at me in shock and fear.  
  
"She said that I should die because no one would ever care or miss me or cry at my funeral." Myrtle whimpered again and started to weep so hard that flecks of salt water slipped over her glasses and my robe was soaked in a matter of minutes. "And she said that I was so ugly that if I ever went to France that the Hall of Mirrors would break and the French would ban me from there forever."  
  
I was furious now. No one made fun of my new friends and got away with it. If anything I was ready to kill. I growled deep in my throat and Myrtle nearly fainted with fear at my angry look. "Who said this to you?" I snarled.  
  
"That new girl. M-Mina S-S-Silverglass." Myrtle stuttered and stumbled in speech with her fear.  
  
I'm pretty sure that by then what I looked like was not anything close to human. My cheeks were flaming with red at the sound of Mina's name and my muscles were tense and ready for any form of battle. I could feel the way my mind was working to design a perfect plan that would humiliate Mina and bring her off her self-proposed throne. Not even Tom could stop me then.  
  
"Myrtle," I said in honeyed tone so that I could calm her down, "What pranks have been played on this school in the past? Anyone's that are sure to be a. . . scream?" I hesitated on the last word, emphasizing my plans.  
  
Almost instantly Myrtle caught on. Her tears stopped instantly and I heard her giggle a bit. "Well, there was one about five years ago. Someone made it that a girl they hated would walk into walls all day. The next they had her run into doors and on Wednesday the girl ran into trees and stuff. Then they had her run around in circles shouting that she was a huge ferret with wings. And finally on Friday they had her eating some stuff that looked a lot like hamster droppings."  
  
I grimaced and decided that our ancestors weren't very creative. "Anything with paint?" I asked calmly and Myrtle looked at me with wide eyes before shaking her head. "Say, um, Myrtle. When do we next go to Hogsmeade?" She tilted her head while she thought and then proclaimed, "In two months! Why?"  
  
I grinned maliciously. "You'll see, Myrtle, you'll see."  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
Mina Silverglass was eagerly anticipating the next day of school. Already she was the most popular girl there _and_ she had a boyfriend. With things going this way, she thought, she'd be the queen of Hogwarts! As she walked down the steps to the dorm (following some boy that couldn't keep his mouth shut or his eyes off her was so boring) she began to think about that redheaded girl.  
  
What was her name? She thought and then when the answer came to her she grinned coyly. The boy that was leading her to the dormitory smiled back shyly, thinking it was for him and Mina suppressed the urge to slap him and tell him that the smile was not for him and he shouldn't care.  
  
Virginia Rushton was, in Mina's opinion, the most ugly child she had ever seen. That fairy's face was so stupidly cute and sweet, not like her own face that was in perfect proportion. And her body was so skinny; Mina thought and wrinkled her nose. Her own body was perfect, accompanied with all the right curves. Not to mention the fact that Rushton's hair was too . . .well, red! Anyone would think that she had stuck her head in the midst of a fire as a child or something. Unlike Mina's locks that were blacker than coal and the essence of shadow and darkness. Honestly, and the nature of that hair! It was so straight. Mina touched a lock of her hair and smiled at the thought of how wavy her own was.  
  
Mina, in her own opinion, was a goddess on earth. Not only was her beauty profound but also she had already gotten the best-looking guy for a boyfriend. Tom was like herself in masculine form. And his ambition was simply divine! With him, she had thought when she first saw him, she could go far.  
  
Oh yes, she thought as she entered the Slytherin common room and met with his black eyes across the room.  
  
Very far indeed.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
The next day I woke up to the sound of someone singing. With a yawn, I rose from my small bed, a narrow thing with thick sheets and soft pillows and curtains of blue and silver. My thin white nightgown of white cotton swirled around my feet as I moved from the bed to a hidden bathroom that was concealed behind a large portrait of a small woman eating a pie. "Argos," I whispered and the woman stopped eating her pie to send me a smile and swivel the portrait away from the hidden entrance.  
  
Gods, I thought, even the bathrooms are concealed in Ravenclaw. These people have too much protection. I eyed my surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and humor. Apparently girls didn't want to stare at the gray surface as they bathed since messy drawings of boys and eagles were everywhere, painted the stone long ago. In the corner was a small bathtub, complete with flower-smelling shampoo and conditioner and some yellow blocks of soap. Across from the bathtub was a toilet; surrounded by boxes that held anything I might need within a month's time. Not to mention the fact that the sink was right next to it and above that silver framed mirror. "Oh my gods!" I whispered when I caught sight of myself.  
  
The sleep had done its work on my hair since it was hanging out at every angle and matted to my head. My skin was crisscrossed in places where the ebony buttons of the gown had pressed into my skin for hours and my face was worn.  
  
Filling the sink with cold water, I dunked my face in and then lifted it out. Well, I thought, at least I don't look like the Witch of the Black Lagoon. Instead my face was just dripping white and paler than a clean sheet.  
  
Then I turned myself around to the bathtub, filled it with hot water and shrugged out of my clothes. I dipped myself in, first slowly, then quickly as a breath of cool air washed over my exposed flesh. I tilted my head back, letting my hair cascade into the water and revitalize itself fully. As I started to reach for shampoo, something caught my eye on the wall. "Tom Riddle!" one of the stones said. It was encrusted with huge pink hearts and red balloons around the name. Grinning, I thought of what Tom might say or do if he saw it. Probably smirk, I thought and turned my attention back to my bath. I washed and rinsed my hair thoroughly with both products and then scrubbed off any remaining taints on my skin with soap.  
  
As I climbed out, I gathered up a fistful of hair and began to hold it away from me as I combed it out with an ivory comb with teeth of gold. "Gosh," I muttered sarcastically, "You'd think they spend more on bathroom stuff then the school." Finally my bathroom procedures were done and I left.  
  
By the time I had finished, my other roommate had awoken and begun to ravage the room for her stuffed bear that she called 'B.B.' Frankly I could care less about that stuffed animal. Not only did it squeak when you punched in its stomach, but when the girl snored, her bear made a chorus of noise. The only time I got some sleep was when I did some fast thinking and while the girl (who had decided that she hated me so far) slept, I snuck the bear out from under her arm and found out that those patented seams that are supposed to stay together really don't after it meets with some very sharp nails and teeth. Needless to say the bear was ripped up (courtesy of yours truly) and was given a bath in the toilet on the fourth floor bathroom at one a.m. Gotta love those childhood pets!  
  
I roamed the hallways till breakfast, thinking of how my revenge on Mina Silverglass would go. If Tom didn't get in the way and kill me first, I thought sarcastically, everything should go fine. While I was walking I was met up with Juniper and Lorna, both who were having a very heated discussion about who got more guys.  
  
"I'm telling you that I did!" Juniper shouted, her usually calm face now alight with rage and suppressed joy. "Joshua Cacher was so looking at me!"  
  
Lorna bit back with the same expression. "No, me!"  
  
"Me!"  
  
"ME!"  
  
"ME!"  
  
"ME!"  
  
"I'M TELLING YOU IT WAS ME!"  
  
"I DON'T GIVE A F. . ." Lorna caught sight of me and paused in midsentence. "Oh, err, hello, Ginny!" she exclaimed with a red face. I nearly laughed at her embarrassed expression but manage to smooth my face to one of amusement.  
  
"Now," I said carefully, tucking one hand around the inside of my elbow behind me and walking towards them, "What were you going to say, Lorna?" I emphasized on her name and sent her a meaningful glare.  
  
She gulped, shot a glare at Juniper and said, "I don't give a fu . . .fudge about who he was looking at." I watched with good humor as she downplayed the urge to curse and instead subjected it with a food.  
  
"Speaking of fudge," Juniper said suddenly, give her stomach the littlest of touches to imply her feelings, "I'm hungry and I can smell good food from here!" She grinned at me, all beams and sunlight, before adding, "I'll race ya, Ginny." With a sideways glance of challenge.  
  
I grinned. The one thing I was good at was running. Races with Ron, George and Fred had given me a slight advantage of speed and grace and I was going to use them full out in this race with Juniper. "Okay." I answered her look of challenge and let the fire I knew too well spark in my azure eyes.  
  
Lorna rolled her eyes, swished back her chestnut hair and lifted her arm like it was a bar. "On my count, ready! Get set!"  
  
"HEY!"  
  
Juniper and I both jumped at the sound of a boy's voice and twisted around to see a sleepy Richard and a happily awake Luca, both of which had their hair messed up from sleeping fitfully. Then again, I thought as I watched how Richard moved, he might not have gotten that much sleep if what Juniper implied was true. "You guys are having a race without us?" Richard asked in a slurred tone, "Where's the joy? Spread the love, man!" He faked an angry expression and then fell into laughter at Lorna's bored face.  
  
"What are you on?" Lorna asked, shaking her head empathically.  
  
Luca grinned lopsided. "Oxygen. Want some?" He held out an empty hand and watched as Lorna snorted and shook her head in disgust again. Then Luca straightened up and said, "Actually, Richard here has been getting some exercise with a girl from Hufflepuff. Says he lost five pounds."  
  
Again Lorna snorted and my face turned bright red at the implication. Juniper, however, was unfazed. "I always did wonder how you got such a good body with all that junk food that you eat," she said with a smirk. "Maybe I should give it a try." She batted her eyelashes suggestively at Richard, who turned as red as my hair and coughed harshly.  
  
I rolled my eyes, adrenaline pumping through my veins in anticipation as I said, "So? Are we going to run or not?" I raised a brow in question and watched Juniper twisted her attention from Richard to me in less than a millisecond.  
  
"Of course," she said and rolled her cerulean eyes back at me, "Gods forbid if we don't, Ginny. Lorna, start again."  
  
Lorna nodded, now barring four people instead of two and shouted, "On your mark! Get Set!"  
  
"Hi guys."  
  
I jumped five feet in the arm and relaxed at the sight of Jack, who was a mixture of both states that Richard and Luca were in right now. "Bloody hell!" Luca whispered and I could see his body uncoil from its state of competition.  
  
Jack looked at us, all lined up along the hallway, in confusion for a moment. "What's going on?" he asked, "Nazis haven't won the war yet, Lorna, get your arm down."  
  
Lorna stuck her tongue out at him and was rewarded with a hiss from Jack, whose eyes danced with a challenge for her. "I don't expect them too, _Jack_!" she muttered and shot him a glare that could freeze the Underworld twice over. I winced at the harshness she placed in her voice. There was something underneath that, I noticed, something more sinister. "And we're having a race to the Great Hall so if you're not going to try then I suggest you stay out of the way."  
  
"Down girl!" Jack said as if offended but I could see that the way his blue eyes lit up that he was far from it. "I'll race, since I'm the best runner here." He shot a crooked grin at Lorna's flaming face and said, "I just might show off my stamina."  
  
"Well then stop yapping and get by Luca, you overgrown sea turtle!" Lorna shouted and Jack winced.  
  
"That was harsh, Lorn." He said, the grin still plastered on his face.  
  
"I don't give a damn, Weasley, now get your ass over there before I decided my foot would be a good addition to your behind." I could see the brown haired beauty getting flustered.  
  
"Okay, Lorn, okay. Just hold your horses!" Jack held up his hands in a sign of surrender and walked over to Luca's side, winking at me as he passed.  
  
Lorna pushed her arm up again and shouted, "Ready! Set! Go!"  
  
My feet pushed off the ground and my arms flew in an attempt to keep Richard and Juniper from passing me. I felt my blood stir and run with me as I plummeted down steps and corridors. I heard the pounding of steps behind me and knew they were on my tail, whether or not I wished it. With that in mind, I tucked in my speed and went all out. Torches and the red fire stained the wall gold as I rushed past and I felt the corresponding need of my muscles burning. Before I knew it we were at the Great Hall's entrance and we had stopped.  
  
I was barely breathing heavily but the sight of Tom and Mina waiting for us downstairs made my lungs deflate instantly. When he saw my disheveled appearance, Tom smirked again. Gods, I prayed with all my might, may my fist fall true on day and strike him down. Then as I watched him smirk harder I added, Same thing with his teeth too. Noting the change in my demeanor, Juniper stepped beside me, winded and her cheeks flushed. "H-h-hello, Tom." Because of her lack of breath, Juniper stuttered a bit as she said it, trying to gain air through her lungs. "How are-you-today?" She gasped and placed a hand on my shoulder to lean on me. I sensed that she couldn't run that well by the way she was heaving for air and leaning on me so heavily.  
  
Tom frowned as he looked at her; true concern crossed his features as he watched. "I'm fine, Juniper. Didn't I tell you not to run? You know its bad for you." I saw Mina lift her chin high as if demanding attention but Tom ignored her. I thought I heard the Hallujah chorus being sung by angels that day.  
  
She shook her head, gasped for more air and leaned less lightly on me. With a coy grin she forced out, "I couldn't resist with Ginny here. She's one fine runner if I may say so. Not even out of breath. I wonder if she could run farther and still have breath." She directed a sly grin in my direction.  
  
I shrugged. "I ran a lot." was all I said. Then I strode into the Great Hall without another word and started thinking of how to get Mina in a very embarrassing situation. I should wait, I decided, till she was the center of attention, and then do something to her.\  
  
I didn't notice Myrtle behind me as I walked in. "Ginny!" She cried, "Ginny! Wait for me!" I turned, a playful smile on my features to watch as the girl with thick glasses plowed through people to get through me. She jogged up to me and smiled, broad and welcoming. "I've been looking all over for you but no one had seen you so I decided to come down to the Great Hall. Want to sit by me at breakfast?"  
  
"Sure," I said, "Have you been having any more trouble with Silverglass?" I asked, voice tightly under control as she walked past us with her arm interlocked with Tom's. I could see the way she watched us out of the corner of a green eye, like we were spies or something.  
  
"No," Myrtle said and giggled, "I think she has had enough fun with me." I could see, however, that Myrtle was nervous as she said it, almost as if she were wary of who might be listening.  
  
A fiery gleam of anger lit my eyes and I muttered, "We'll get payback soon, Myrtle. Don't worry about it. Let's eat! I'm starving!" At the exact same moment, my stomach growled agreement and we both laughed.  
  
I had made a friend, I realized. A true friend. Pride beat in my chest as we both walked over to the table, heedless of other's glares and glances at us. I didn't care. This was who I was, who I was meant to be. I would make any friends I wanted. I didn't care if she were a reject or not, she was my friend, the person who helped me out of my humiliation.  
  
I sat down at the end of the Ravenclaw table and patted the seat next to me as Myrtle came closer. She smiled, sat down and took a spoonful of eggs to dump onto her plate. "So, Ginny?" she asked, "When were you born? I was born in May on the fourteenth."  
  
"I was born . . ." then it struck me. Today was my birthday! Oh holy joy. I'd forgotten my own birthday. "Today." I said and tried to avoid meeting her shocked gaze.  
  
But the shock was driven out by excitement. "Oh my gods! Today! Ginny! You're fifteen then! Oh my gods, I've got to plan something for you and get a gift and organize something. Ahh! So much to do." When she saw me laughing she frowned. "What's the matter? Are you laughing at me?" she looked hurt and I stopped laughing to turn serious.  
  
"Oh, no. It's just that no one really cares about my birthday. Not any of my friends anyway. I think they all forget. You actually care." I paused as if thinking about something and remembered what I'd told Mrs. Hyacinth. "People at the orphanage don't care either. To them, you're just another mouth to feed, no acceptation. So your attentiveness about my birthday is a bit funny since no one's really cared."  
  
Myrtle looked sad, nodded and said, "Well, I'm sorry. I'll get you something really cool so that it'll make up for those stupid mangy gits forgetting you. Or something big." I laughed again, so loudly and happily that people of Slytherin and Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff all stared at me. Blushing slightly, I lowered my head to my hand and clasped it over my mouth to stifle my joy.  
  
I had never really gotten anything considered special by the wizarding world. Sure, I had gotten a few gifts that my family had worked on getting for ages but none of them were really expensive or anything. All I usually got was a sweater made by mother, a little muggle toy from dad that didn't work but was nice to look at, a few prank books from Fred and George, sometimes a poster from Ron that had been sitting on his wall for ages. Nothing special. The gifts from Percy, Bill and Charlie were usually lost in the mail so they didn't really count, I guess, since I never got them.  
  
Hermione had given me a book once, I remembered, on all the creatures of the world and she showed me one that I'd never forget.  
  
*flashback time!*  
  
"See, Ginny?" Hermione, with her bushy brown hair flying everywhere and her tanned face excited, pointed to a large dog in the book. It was a thick volume, with wafer thin pages that Hermione told me reminded her of something called a Bible because of the feel and thinness of it.  
  
I eyed the creature. It was moving, since it was a wizard book, and liked to sniff on the ground, paw it, and then howl loudly. A big shaggy dog, I thought as I looked at it and smiled. With very large teeth.  
  
"What is it?" I asked. Hermione chewed on her bottom lip as she thought and I could tell that she wanted to make me laugh about some form of information.  
  
"It's a direwolf." She said and touched the picture gently, "No one has them anymore, Ginny. They're considered an endangered species but no one knows how many there truly are so we're not sure if it really is endangered. They rarely breed, it's said, but when they do it produces the biggest pups you've ever seen. The ones that are regular sized are usually the runts of the litter. They're even rarer than the direwolves themselves because the mothers usually try to kill them since they see them as a problem. The direwolf cubs are usually about the size of your upper body when they're born, Ginny, and then they grow to the size of panthers or bigger when they grow older."  
  
"That's sad." I said, stroking the direwolf as it sniffed around. At the touch of my fingers, it twisted around and attempted to lick my fingertip, though it was paper and wouldn't be able to.  
  
Hermione's brows knitted together in confusion. "About what?" she asked. Clearly she was not really paying attention to what she was saying herself, but what the textbook she'd gotten the information from.  
  
"About how the mothers kill the runts. It shouldn't happen. Why would they do that, Mione? Why would they kill their own children? Their flesh and blood?" I asked, my blue eyes twisted to her and she looked away from me.  
  
"It's survival, Ginny. And they don't do it themselves. They leave the cub in the snow and move the other cubs to another den. The runt dies usually within a week or so. Sometimes it survives though, but that barely ever happens." Hermione looked at me and said, "Like I said, its survival. It has to be done for the good of the others."  
  
I nodded and turned back to watch the direwolf paw the paper with fascination. But just watching it couldn't erase my thought. All life is sacred, I thought, it shouldn't be wasted based on appearances.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
Smiling slightly, I rejected the memory and turned to Myrtle, attempting to look light hearted and cheery. "I wonder what our schedules are today," she murmured and leaned back to see if the Headboy and Headgirl were passing them out yet. Apparently what saw pleased her because she smiled and reached for the orange juice. "We'll be in all the same classes, Ginny. Don't worry. You can probably sit next to me since no one ever does."  
  
I grinned and nodded assent. "Of course I'll sit next to you. It seems like I'm the most unpopular person in the world right now and it'll probably make my birthday better if I do."  
  
Myrtle scrunched up her nose daintily and said, "Well, no. You're not the most unpopular person here because I am. And we unpopular people gotta stick together, right?"  
  
I laughed and said, "Right, Myrtle!" My eyes turned down the table and I saw that the students were all getting their schedules. Sometimes the Headgirl and Headboy would make a comment to one of the students but otherwise there were groans when people saw what classes they had.  
  
Just before the people reached me, I reached to take a sip of orange and brought it to my lips. Before I could take a gulp, someone's body rammed into my back and the orange juice splattered all over my body. Cold washed over me, quite literally, and I looked up to glare at the person. The Headboy, a youth with brown hair and hazel eyes, glared back at me with a grin. "Oh! I'm _so_ sorry! I didn't see you there. Here's your schedule." His voice came out mocking and I felt a pain in my chest like a stiletto had just gone through me.  
  
Myrtle gasped at me and reached for a napkin. Futilely, she dabbed at the juice with the piece of cloth but the liquid had already soaked through. "Oh, Ginny! You poor thing. And on your birthday of all days! That ugly cretin. I say that we get back at him. You tackle him from the front and I'll pummel his nose in!" Her fury was so well-known in her voice that I laughed a bit.  
  
"No, no," I said and took the napkin from her to wipe off some juice in my hair, "It's alright. I'll have a nice discussion with him later." She and I grinned at each other and she took the napkin from me to place back at her side.  
  
She and I finished breakfast simultaneously and then checked our schedules. Myrtle growled when she saw it but otherwise held her tongue. "So," I murmured, "we've got double potions with Hufflepuff, Herb Lore with Slytherin, Lunch, and then Care of Magical Creatures with Gryffindor and Transfiguration with Slytherin. And then Charms with Hufflepuff. Oh joy." I eyed it with disdain and then pushed a piece of toast between my lips and chewed.  
  
"I hate the Gryffindors!" Myrtle said viperously and then blushed. "They don't tease me as much as others do, but they dislike the fact that we can take care of ourselves and don't need some Joiners helping us out and being our champions."  
  
I nodded and looked over at the Gryffindor table when I felt eyes on me. Blue clashed with green as my eyes met with those of Gabriel Kelran. He smiled slightly, nodded a greeting to me and then turned his head to listen to what Michael Salern was saying. I wondered briefly why he had been looking at me and decided to let it go. Nothing important, I thought and rose to go change my clothes. "I've got to go get some new clothes," I said to Myrtle, touching her shoulder lightly to get her attention, and then said, "I'll meet you in potions."  
  
She nodded and turned away. I walked off, my robe swirling behind me as I left. I felt eyes following me as I exited and ducked my head in an attempt to be unnoticeable.  
  
Three minutes down the hall, I realized it didn't work. "Miss Rushton!" a voice called. From the low tone I guessed it to be a male. "Miss Rushton! Wait up! I need to speak with you about something."  
  
I walked faster, pretending not to have heard. I didn't want to be followed back to the Ravenclaw common room, so I took a detour and walked instead to the dungeons, hoping that the boy would not be as stupid as to follow me there. When my footsteps began to echo and the boy's as well, I began to get worried. Why wouldn't he leave me alone? What had I done?  
  
"Miss Rushton! Wait for me, please!" Came a deep voice. I started to pick up the pace, not knowing who it was and not wanting to know. My pace turned to a sprint and settled into a long run as I rushed down halls filled with cobwebs and opened doors whose handles had loads of dust on them. But still the boy followed and just as he was about to catch me, I darted behind a door and ran further down the present corridor. All around me were webs of hundreds of spiders, the sound of distant water dripping through cracks in the stones made me shiver as cold air entered my pores and chilled me to the bone. My foot splashed in water and three seconds later I heard another splash that meant the person was still behind me. I pushed my speed and heard his labored breathing become distant and foreign till it was no more.  
  
Glancing back only once, I saw a thatch of golden curls and knew that either Gabriel or Tor Kelran had been following me. Why? I wondered and kept up my pace, bringing me closer to the shadow's embrace and the darkness with its damp skin and cold soul. I felt water drip onto my forehead and my arms and knew I had gone where no one else had been in hundreds of years. The thought made me shiver more and I reached out a hand, hoping I had run into a dead end.  
  
My hand collided with the floor as I tripped on a piece of chipped stone and I bit my tongue in an effort to keep from crying out. As my face landed in a puddle of water I thought distantly, Hello stone. How are you today? I'm great, as usual. I just got chased by a fallen angel psychopath so everything's just chipper.  
  
I landed with a hard thud and felt the water sputtered all over my body and soak both my hair and top. "Muffins," I cursed and lifted myself up just in time to see something scaly and green go by. "Oh gods," I whispered, "I'm going to take it that that was not supposed to be here." I eyed the weird looking circular object with green skin as it went by and then felt something slippery wind its way up my leg. Looking down, I saw a vanishing snake tail. For a moment, panic seized me, then I thought, What the use of panicking? It'll just make it bite. So I stood there, waiting patiently as the snake's soft skin coiled up my leg, over my waist and up to my neck, where my hand was waiting patiently for it to emerge.  
  
"Sorry, babe," I whispered as its long forked tongue came out first and then its head, "But I don't want you on my skin right now." I gripped it gingerly and felt it wrap itself around my arm. "Good child. Now go back to the ground and let me go." The snake didn't move. Just stayed there and stared at me in fascination. With dawning horror I realized it was a poisonous snake that was wrapped around my arm. "Oh crap." I muttered and touched it gently on the neck and back. The snake hissed and reached back to nuzzle my hand but nothing else.  
  
Breathing shallowly with a bit of horror, I unwrapped it from my arm and put it on the ground gently, murmuring sweet nothings to it. "Good, child," I whispered, "Sweet child. Let me go. Let me free. I'll return if you wish it, child."  
  
The snake uncoiled itself and dripped slowly from my hand to the ground. My terror fled with it, and I watched it go with a small frown. What were snakes doing down here? I wondered and reached forward again, though more carefully than before.  
  
My fingers brushed a wall and I pressed hard on it, curiosity erasing any essence of fear. "My gods," I whispered when my fingertips traced the outline of a snake carving. When I reached its mouth a zap went through me and I was hurled backward by some force, pain and agony filling my body. I screamed, high and shrill, before nearly blacking out from the adrenaline spreading through my body like too much butter on a single piece of toast.  
  
"Ugh," I muttered and rolled over onto my stomach, wary of the fact that many snakes were now sliding around me and trying to climb onto me. "That was either a sugar high or too much orange juice." I felt my fingers dig into my pockets and cling to my wand, which I had probably placed there without thinking as I had done so for four years. Old habits die hard, I thought sarcastically and stretched forth my wand and showed to the snakes. "Lumos!" I shouted and frowned when nothing happened. "Lumos!" I shouted again and my frown deepened when still nothing happened. Twenty tries later I was trying to decide whether or not I should see if wands snap like twigs. Then it hit me: this place negates magic.  
  
Oh muffins.  
  
I slammed my palm into my forehead and shouted muffins over and over again with more vehemence than ever. "Gods!" I shouted, "Why must you be so cruel? I mean, I'm not _that_ bad! All I did was let curiosity get the best of me and touch the serpent crest but nothing else." Then I winced and muttered, "And I hid Percy's prefect badge a couple of times. . .But nothing bad! Please let me have my magic back! I'll be a good girl forever. I'll do whatever you say."  
  
There was no answer. Only the faint dripping noise and the sound of a distant splash of a snake in water. "Lumos!" I murmured, glaring at my wand which was much more useless than a stick at the moment.  
  
Still nothing happened and I slammed my palm into the serpent drawing with all my might. "Muffins!" I cried and sank down to the floor, knowing that there was no hope for me when I was stuck in the dark and could barely see my own hand in the blackness.  
  
A loud groan emitted from one of the walls and a passage was revealed. I stood up, gaped. "Now I'm a believer." I whispered and stared at the passageway as if it were the gods come down to earth.  
  
Quickly, before it could close up and leave me alone, I rushed through it and was rewarding by running into a tree.  
  
Wait a second. . .I thought and checked myself. Let's see, I checked off things off my mental list as I tried to rid myself of the pain, silky feel, check. . .hard as a tree trunk in January, check. . .something like stones pressing into forehead, cheek and nose that are perfectly circular, check. . .weird noise when run into, check. . .  
  
Oh gods.  
  
"What are you doing here, Rushton?" Tom's voice was cold and demanding, almost suspicious. "You're supposed to be in class!" I could feel his fury radiating from his body as I stepped back, rubbed the numb feeling out of my nose and glared up at him though I could barely see him in the darkness. The only light came from his wand.  
  
Seeing that, new hope grew in me. "I-He-I-They-We-I. . ." I stuttered and was met with his scowl.  
  
"Rushton, you can talk, I know you can. So talk you moronic idiot." He said and rubbed his forehead like he didn't have time for this. Like I was some sort of psycho freak that wasn't even supposed to be here.  
  
Well, maybe I was. But I was an angry psycho freak that wasn't even supposed to be there. And I let him know it too. "Look, buster," I sputtered out, poking him in the chest furiously and forgetting who I was talking to, "I was chased down here by Gabriel Kelran or his cousin, so its not my fault."  
  
For a moment Riddle stared at me, then at my finger which was still poking him in the chest in a pattern, and then back at me. "Rushton," he said slowly, "Get your finger away from my chest before I decide that I don't like the way it is on your hand."  
  
I gulped, coming back to reality and stopped poking him. This was Tom Marvolo Riddle, my mind shouted at me, don't forget that! "Sorry, Riddle. But would you listen?"  
  
"I'm listening now."  
  
"Right, um, anyway, I was leaving the Great Hall and I think that Gabriel or Tor Kelran followed me out because halfway to the Ravenclaw common room, I heard footsteps. Naturally I didn't like it when he started to call me 'Miss Rushton' and chased after me so I ran back down the hallway, wound up down here, and lost him. Then I got. . .well, err, I tripped on a piece of rock and then I fell and I couldn't see anything so I reached out and found this _thing_ right in the middle of the wall."  
  
Tom clamped a hand on my wrist as he narrowed his eyes at me. I saw a flash of red in them and began to feel scared. "What was in the middle of the wall?" I looked away, trying to break free but his grip was cast iron on my skin.  
  
"You're hurting me, Riddle," I said calmly and pulled again. He let go and I fell back into the passageway door, which was now solid stone and very, very hard and cold. Pieces of red hair flew into my face as I landed with a sharp thud on the wall. But Tom wasn't giving up. He grabbed my wrists, held them above my head and leaned down so I could see how red his eyes were. Our breaths mingled as we stared at one another, each holding equal fury.  
  
Then, slowly and dangerously, he said, "What was on the wall, _Rushton_?"  
  
I gulped, trying to ignore how close he was and said calmly, "It was a snake, Riddle. Now let go of me before I decide that I want to scream."  
  
His ruby eyes clashed with my sapphire ones like two armies, one red and the other blue, coming together in hatred and a thirst for knowledge. "You wouldn't dare, Rushton, because you know that if any teacher found us here, they would suspect that we were doing something that I'm sure you don't want to be accused of and neither do I. Not with you anyway." He smirked at me and clenched my wrists harder above my head. I could feel blood drain from my face as I realized what he was talking about. I also realized he wasn't going to let me go till I told him everything. "What happened when you touched the snake drawing?" he questioned, eyes boring into mine with such fierceness that I flinched back and turned my head to the left. "Tell me!" he said just lower than a yell and banged my wrists against the stone so hard that I lost all feeling in them.  
  
"When I touched it, it flung me back and caused me pain." I said and flung my head back to face him. He nodded and made a motion that meant go on. "And then, when the pain was gone I felt lots of energy fill my body and that was it. My wand didn't work afterwards and I got angry and in my anger I punched the wall and hit the serpent. It didn't do anything to me then." I looked at him, at the rage filling his features and once again felt uncomfortable at his nearness.  
  
"Dammit!" he cursed and let go of me. I rubbed my wrists and as I lowered my arms I felt the blood run back into them and winced as my wrists felt the pang of life again. "Do you realize what you've done, Rushton?"  
  
I gulped and covered my fear with sarcasm. "If I did, I'm pretty sure that I would be telling you some stupid information that you already know and you'd be slapped the life out of me so tell me before I go to the library, please." He growled, and did something that I had done a moment before by slamming his fist into the wall in annoyance. "That hurts, you know."  
  
He snarled at me and I tried to back up a step, barely remembering the fact that there was a wall behind me made of stone. "You've just. . .I. . .Now its. . ." his fury made him stumble in his words and I could see he was fumbling with his control as well as his red eyes changed rapidly between red and black, black and red, then red and black again as he sought to place his temper under the yoke. "Just go, Rushton, before I lose my temper. Just touch the second stone on the left by the door and you'll be in the hallway behind the statue of Merlin. The potions class is almost over but you'll be able to catch a few moments. Its on the right." As I moved past him and started up the stairs that crept steadily upward he said, "Oh, and Rushton?" I looked back, seeing his black eyes and feeling relief, "You smell like orange juice. Go take a bath." He smirked as I turned around again and started back up.  
  
River-Star: What was the serpent drawing about? Will Tom ever tell Ginny what the problem with it was? What will happen for her birthday? Will she find a way back home or fail and stay to marry Tom instead like the gods planned? Does her wand work now? What will happen with the classes? Will I ever shut up? Anyway, that was long too. Exactly fifteen pages in size ten font. I think that fills you in more on how well Hermione got along with Ginny and stuff. 


	11. Trust is Not Easily Bought

River-Star: ha ha! I have produced three chapters in a week I'm on a roll, people!  
  
Thanks to:  
  
Miss Black: Are you sure it's a mind-reading thing? *raises an eyebrow* Thanks about both things. That made me smile today.  
  
Niamh6: No, not a goddess, just a girl with the mind of a sadistic author that likes to toy with the end of her chapters. *grins* As Juniper once said, "All things are revealed in time."  
  
Crystal Megan: thanks but your story is major better. Seriously. I probably won't be able to live up to it. I think that your old name was pretty good, but this one is better. Believe it or not, but my first pen- name was Dragonflare, but then I decided on River-Star. And actually, no one knows what color Tom's eyes are, so I just made them black. I read a little article on his eyes once, and though most said green, others thought it was probably a more evil color. I choose black because that way it wouldn't exactly be beyond him, especially since black eyes go well with black hair. *winks* And Mina and Tom are only temporary. I think she'll meet with some . . . interesting people that want her gone. *grins evilly and chuckles* The Sorting Hat did that because it couldn't reach into Ginny's memories. The time change had such an effect on her mind that it barred her virtues and vices from the Hat and it decided that he would need to talk to her face-to-face or mind-to-mind in order to get in and discover where she needed to belong. However, every time he touched a memory, it ran away from it so he had to keep on going deeper into her mind to catch the memories. He wasn't able to so he just asked her.  
  
HeatherM: the reason I can't tell you about the time thing: because its one of the main points in the plot and you'll find out soon. Just not from me. You'll here it from Ginny herself. Or Tom . . . or the Hat.  
  
Letylyf: First of all, it's not all impossible. Second of all, this is FICTION, chibi (I hope you know that I'm NOT calling you a bitch or anything bad by the way) and ANYTHING can happen in fiction. Third of all, I am obviously NOT Mrs. Rowling. I'm a fourteen year old girl whose dog died while we were moving, whose father is a freakin' moron that lied to her several times and tried to take us (my bro and I) away from our mother and then has disappeared mysteriously, whose mother is trying to live when all the odds are against her because she has freakin' cancer in her body, brain, and everywhere else, whose been adopted by her aunt and uncle for fear that her mother may die and her father take her away from any joy in the world, whose cousin molested her as a seven year old child and then tried to rape her when she was ten, whose very existence is hated by all the school who thinks I'm a WITCH even though I'm NOT. So, OBVIOUSLY I am not J.K Rowling and I'm not TRYING to be. My story is of my own making. It has NO plot holes because this is the way I WANT it to go. And about all your questions: if you took time and thought about it, you might actually see that this fanfic is actually very thought out and coincidental. And if you WANT to help me in this, you need to TELL me how I'm supposed to do this stupid thing to YOUR standards. And FINALLY: I put the plot holes there for a reason; they will be filled in later. Not everything has to be done by probability and demand, chibi. I'm writing this how I want. I have my heart and soul in this and nothing you say is honestly going to make me work harder for your demands. If you want your questions and such answered, phrase then in a nice, an UNHUMILIATING way so that I don't loss my freakin' temper and do this again. Phrase then in QUESTION FORM and I will answer then.  
  
Simple-siam: Ah, not fifteen this time. More like eight or so pages. Thanks for the compliment! *grins* only one other person has called that chapter brilliant. And then one other person, *cough*Letylyf!*cough* insulted the whole fic! I'm so mad. But then again, I did ask you guys to criticize me and help me. But she didn't help, dammit! She just complained about the damn thing and told me it had potential and heart in it but nothing else! Ahhh! I lost my temper that day *grins weakly and motions toward broken vases littering the floor* If there is anything that I need to work on, can you tell me? I don't want people making compliments just so that it can make me feel better. I want honesty, not fake satisfaction. Thanks again!  
  
Note: I AM NOT A SLYTHERIN HATER! I'M TRYING TO MAKE THIS FANFIC MY WAY AND AM NOT FOLLOWING SOME STUPID TREND OF PUTTING GINNY IN SLYHERIN. THERE IS A REASON I PUT GINNY IN RAVENCLAW. IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HOW I FEEL ABOUT ANY OF THE HOUSES. IF YOU CAN'T ACCEPT IT THEN BUG OFF AND GET A FREAKIN' LIFE OR YOU CAN JUST CONTINUE READING THIS STORY. EITHER WAY, IT'S YOUR DECISION.  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
Holy crap!  
  
That would have been my first thought as I magically tapped the second stone on the left and light flooded the corridor and blew into my eyes with such force that I nearly fell backwards. Not only was that my first thought because I was seeing light after an hour or so in the dark, but because of the fact that someone was there, just in front of the statue of Merlin.  
  
That someone was Myrtle.  
  
"Myrtle!" I whispered, "Myrtle!" To my surprise she jumped and seemed alarmed to find the pale arm of her best friend hanging off the side of Merlin. "Oh, muffins," I cursed and stretched forth my hand, causing Myrtle to move backward a bit. "Myrtle, it's me. Ginny!" She sighed and touched my hand as if testing its authenticity and exhaled loudly in relief. I could see, as my eyes adjusted to the bright torchlight and the yellow sunshine streaming in from windows, that my friend had been crying yet again. Mina again, I wondered as I spoke. "Can you move the statue? I'm kinda cramped behind it and its becoming quite hard to breathe. Uncomfortably so, actually, if you'll believe it."  
  
She smiled wanly, her skin splotchy from her tears. As she tried to move the statue of brave, beard, and rotting Merlin, I pressed her with questions. "Who made you cry?"  
  
"Mina," she answered, "She seems to like picking on me." I tried to ignore the almost depressed tone of Myrtle's voice and dismiss the fact that she might try suicide.  
  
It didn't work too well.  
  
"What did she say?"  
  
"She asked if my freckles had blown up or if I had a problem with zits. Then she told me that I looked like a bulldog with its collar too tight and said that I was uglier than her grandmother, though she has been rotting for fifty years."  
  
"And this happened . . . when?"  
  
"Potions. I was waiting for you but when you didn't come I went inside and ran into her. She decided to make my presence useful." She pointed to a red mark on her shirt that looked like blood but had the faint smell of rotting dung. Instantly I knew it was a prank item that had done such damage to the white cotton shirt.  
  
"That mellow-hearted, over-grown, obsessive-cow-licking, overgrown, French ferret of the Underworld," I muttered and gritted my teeth as the statue suddenly fell over and broke, the head rolling down the stairs and hitting a large oak door. "Oh freaky monkeys of Ra!" I muttered, gripping Myrtle's hand to jump over the debris and starting to run, "You better start moving, Myrtle, no one's going to let us off easy for this."  
  
"Here that!" It was Peeves. "Let's go have a looksie!" I nearly screamed at him and pounded his face in as he banged on each of the classroom doors and shouted, "Merlin's beheaded! Merlin's beheaded! Call the headmaster!"  
  
Several teachers stuck their heads out and looked up and down the hall but saw nothing for Myrtle and I had decided that a very deep niche in the wall proved a good hiding spot. When the teachers saw the mess that had once been a very good statue, one woman screeched alarm and fainted, another man roared profanities, and one other witch shot him a glare. "Good ole teachers," I muttered as I watch them tell their classes to behave and assign whatever student that was the best in the class to lead in their absence.  
  
They all headed down the hall and I thought I heard the hallelujah chorus being sung by angels as they spilt up and people went past us. Beside me, I felt Myrtle sigh her relief and start to move out when the coast was clear but at the sign of noise, I held her back.  
  
Tom strode by, not seeing us and clearly deep in thought as he muttered under his breath and tapped his chin with his index finger. "What does the crest of the. . ." he drifted into silence, obviously not noticing where he was going, "What did she do to it? It was only suppose to answer to. . . perhaps I. . .or maybe. . .her. . .and. . . the Chamber. . .Rushton ought to. . .serpents. . ." I watched him go by with narrow slits for eyes and stored the info in my mind for future use.  
  
When he was gone, billowing cloak and all, I hurried away from the niche, warning Myrtle to stay there till I gave the signal (a thumbs up sign) to move away from it. I checked the coast on both sides of the hallway, gave a thumbs up sign and we started to the Ravenclaw common room.  
  
Unfortunately, someone had recorded our progress up to the Ravenclaw room. That person happened to have black hair and green eyes.  
  
As I turned the corner to head up to the knight that our common room was hidden behind, I slammed into someone and the person let out a delicate curse in French. "Bloody hell," I heard Myrtle whispered behind me as she clashed into me and we went down.  
  
"Oaf!" Mina Silverglass yelped and tried to push us off, "Get off me, you ugly pigs! I'll hex you for this, I swear. Just you wait and. . . ." At this point she stopped, looked at my red mane and her eyes started to twinkle like dew on grass. "Oh! Hello, Rushton. How are you? Been in pain lately?"  
  
I glared at her, pushed away from the floor and helped Myrtle up. My friend brushed off dust from her robes and crouched in fear behind me. Already I could see that Myrtle was tensing herself for pain and humiliation. Not with me here, I thought protectively and tucked myself into a fighter's stance without noticing. "Not any mental pain unlike you, no doubt." I snarled back.  
  
I watched in a predator's wary glance as Mina's eyes narrowed dangerously and she sniffed contemptuously. "Humph! Well, I didn't expect you to, Rushton. I was talking about the pain of the heart. Surely you feel something for . . . him since you seem to fight so much. There is, I suppose a sort of . . . attraction for you two. But I have him now, and you cannot take him from me, Rushton."  
  
My brow furrowed in embarrassment for her and a bit of confusion. "Him?" I asked with an unbelievable look in my eyes. Honestly I had no idea what this crack head was talking about. In my opinion, she must have sniffed her brain out or something.  
  
"Tom," she said with a wave of her elegant hand, "I know you have feelings for him. No one who didn't would fight for him so . . . protectively. Like a wolf protecting her cubs. And don't tell me that you do that for all your friends." She raised a black brow and stared at me in a sultry manner that would have been arrogance if someone other than her would have done it.  
  
To both her surprise and mine, I snorted and started to laugh. "I like no one," I said between the exhales of giggles, "Especially not Riddle. He is too . . . red," I laughed and paused as if indicating another meaning though she could not possibly know what I was speaking of unless she had angered him, "for my tastes. I like guys that are a little less oppressive and have a littler ego than he does."  
  
She stood there for a bit, analyzing my words and then she smiled with red lips that seemed to be the color of my hair, the color of dark blood. "Red? How can a man be red? He's still green, trust me. In fact, he's still a virgin. If you want him that way, you'd better get me out fast because I'm going to change him." She laughed back at me coyly as if daring me to do something.  
  
I couldn't believe the Dark Lord was still a virgin. Heck, I couldn't believe I was having this conversation with _Mina_ of all people!  
  
I answered her challenge. "I bet, little Miss Wannabe, that you couldn't even fly a broom well enough to score a few points in Quidditch." I smiled back at her expression, one of shock and a bit of disbelief.  
  
Then her lips curled almost seductively and she said, "Hmm. . .A challenge. I accept. Tomorrow, after lunch, meet me in the Quidditch field with your broom."  
  
With that she sauntered away and I cursed.  
  
"Oh gosh! Ginny, you're so brave!" Myrtle said to me hurriedly and clasped her arms around my waist in a hug. I was too much in thought to react so I just patted her on the head.  
  
"Yeah, but, Myrtle?" I asked, worry tucked deeply in my voice. She looked at me, unlocking her arms and tilting her head in confusion, "I-I don't have a broom. I never got one."  
  
Myrtle giggled and said the password to the knight, who saluted and let us enter, before she said, "Oh, don't worry. I have the best broom today! You can borrow it."  
  
I gasped, swung my arm around her shoulders in a one-armed hug and smiled broadly. "Thank you so much, Myrtle! You're a true friend!"  
  
She giggled again and shook her head. "Naw! I'm just helping you get revenge, Ginny. Nothing more, nothing less. Now go change quickly. You smell like orange juice."  
  
I laughed. "You're not the first one that's said that today," I yelled as I rushed up to my room that I shared with the other Ravenclaw girls and changed quickly, a smile still on my face as I walked down the stairs.  
  
But there my smile faded when I saw that Myrtle had gone to class. Instead, she was replaced by none other than Tom. He was leaning against the stone wall, legs crossed at the ankles in front of him and arms entwined across his chest. I must have made some sort of gasp or something, because he looked up, smirked and said, "Well, hello, Rushton. Now that you're clean, I would like to tell you something that may or may not kill you. I suppose it depends on my mood and what you say."  
  
I nodded, paler than a ghost and possibly transparent, as I walked gravely over to the flower printed couch and sat down. I gulped as he sat across from me in a chair and touched the chess set in front of us on the low wooden table that was engraved with boys and girls names inside hearts and a large eagle that clasped a sword in its talons. (A/N: I know that's not the true crest of Ravenclaw since they actually only have an eagle and nothing else but I wanted to do that for effect.) "Do you play, Rushton?" he asked. The torchlight caught his prefects bronze prefects badge and I gulped harder. Was he testing my resolve to go to class? He could take points away and such if he didn't find my answer satisfactory.  
  
What had I gotten myself into?  
  
"I-I-I need to go to class," I said quickly and started to get up but his cold slender hand grasped my wrist and his eyes changed a dangerous red. Looking at the garnet color I started to feel emotions of panic and detachment.  
  
"I asked you a question, Rushton. Are you going to answer? Or do I need to teach you some manners?" His eyes flashed wine colored again and I nearly cried out as his hand tightened its grip.  
  
"Yes." I answered and started to shudder in alarm. What did he want? Was this absolutely necessary? Why wasn't my brain functioning properly? Why couldn't I get hold of myself again and drag my mind out of its cage of fear?  
  
"Yes as in you need to be taught manners or you're going to answer or you play? Tell me in a complete sentence, Rushton. Before I decide I don't like your wrist." He smirked at my pale face and wide blue eyes.  
  
"Y-y-yes, Riddle, I do p-play c-c-chess." I stuttered, ignoring the comfort the couch was allowing me to sneak into.  
  
"Say it without stuttering, Rushton. I don't like people who stutter." He whispered.  
  
I nodded, trying to keep from screaming at his close proximity and my fear. "Yes, Riddle," I said quietly then hesitated, choking down the nausea that was spreading through my body, "I do play chess." I closed my eyes briefly, felt his hand remove itself from my wrist and opened them to see him smirking at me. He set up the two sides, him black and I white, and, still smirking, asked me to play chess with him while talking. Thinking of my classes, I nodded gravely and sat at the edge of my seat, ready to take on whatever he was going to throw at me.  
  
But what he asked nearly pummeled me into the ground. "Rushton, you are my friend. Correct?" He moved his pawn two paces ahead of where it was and stared at me.  
  
I retaliated by moving my own pawn to the end of the board, one space ahead of where it was. Gods, I prayed silently, please let me win or something. I don't want to answer any of his questions! "That depends on what you think, Riddle," I said lowly, shocking even myself.  
  
He moved another pawn, but I didn't notice, I was staring at him, watching to see if he knew what I was doing. "Well, then," he said just as low, "I guess that means you are. As my 'friend' you are entitled to things. The things I am willing to give you. I'm going to be completely honest when I say that when I bought you those things in Diagon Alley and such, I was trying to win your trust. Just now, I realized that that trust must be solidified, either by you or I."  
  
I nodded, now watching the chess game as it unfolded before me. Heck, I thought, I'm playing _chess_ with the Dark Lord and he's talking to me in a civilized manner without trying to take over my life or something. What a rare opportunity! "Riddle," I said as I moved a bishop, "you should know, of all people, that trust cannot be bought but won. My, as you said before, is not easily won but once it is, it is forever lasting." Perhaps truly, I thought as I remembered what the Hat said and tried to think of what it meant. "I am a protector, not some doll, to be moved wherever you would have it because I trust you. I have my own mind, my own body and my own soul. I fully intend to use them and not displace myself into any con or army you are possibly making to kill off the muggle world as we know it." I clamped my mouth shut, knowing I had already made a mistake. At the same time, Riddle took my pawn and was about to take my bishop.  
  
Nothing Tom did betrayed his surprise or any of his emotions as he did take my pawn and place it by his side of the set. When he looked at me, his eyes were blacker than the night sky with no moon or stars. I swallowed thickly and averted my eyes. "I am not saying that I want you to go and conquer the world for me, Rushton. I simply want to know that I have your trust."  
  
Oh my gods, I whispered the prayer in my mind, protect me and my decisions, for I know not what I will say instead I want you to make the decision for me! My eyes met with his over the table, water against darkness and I smiled weakly, "Of course you have it," I said to my horror. Inside, my heart and soul were raging against my decision, telling me I had just made the most horrid mistake in my life. "But know that I did it of my own accord and not because of some promise that will not be fulfilled."  
  
He nodded, and moved his queen in such a way that I had suddenly lost. "Checkmate," he murmured, smirking up at me. Then he got up, walked towards the knight, picked up his silvery, weird looking cloak and called back, "It's your birthday today, Rushton?"  
  
I gaped at him. "Y-yes it is, Riddle. Why?"  
  
His smirk widened. "Happy Birthday, Rushton." And then he left with his cloak billowing behind him and disappeared, leaving me staring at nothing but the chess board.  
  
River-Star: Right. If you guys need anything explained, *~*ask*~* (hint hint, Letylyf!!!) and you shall receive. HOWEVER anything that is related to the plot line and will be revealed later I shall not tell you because that would ruin this fic. Please review and tell me what you think. If you have any suggestions about how I could make this fic better (as in tell me what's wrong AND also tell me how to fix it) I will try to accommodate it into the story. A lot of you guys (and girls) are asking about what part Mina plays in this. Not only will she be a key player in Myrtle's death later on, but she will also have Ginny realize that she does, in fact, like Tom and vice versa. As my mother once told me, "Stories are tapestries. Feel free to weave it as you wish and leave some strands hanging but know that you must come back to them in the end to make the beautiful design." If any of you understood that, I'm glad. 


	12. Red Wolf, Red Wolf, Why do you Howl?

River-Star: Thank you all my reviewers! I love you all, you're my joy. *Smiles brightly for a few moments before turning serious* Okay, enough mushy stuff. I have a black eye today due to the fact that I got into a philosophical discussion with my best friend's head. We wanted to see which head was harder (her head or mine) while tubing and so we decided to have fun doing it by going over a wake that was twice the size of me while sideways and crashing our heads together . . . she won, needless to say and now I look like Bandito the Raccoon.  
  
Thanks to:  
  
Niamh of Tir Na N og: funness! I have to watch my little bro all the time and that in itself is deadly annoying and boring. *Makes a face*  
  
Wizzabee: Yeah, I thought about that too and decided that you'll find out later. *Winks* I'm not gonna give away the plot. I think Olive might show up in some later chapters though. Since Myrtle can't die till before July 6 it'll take a while before you'll see how Mina is tied to Olive's death.  
  
HeatherM: I think that Pirates of the Caribbean is the best movie I've ever seen. And Orlando Bloom is so hot in it too! Basically, yeah, about the tapestry thing. My ma (I call her Mazah though) told me that when she was in the hospital (she has breast cancer) and she had me read one of my stories out loud to her.  
  
Lily Rose Evans: Thanks so much. That brightened my day!  
  
Miss Black5: hmm . . .to tell or not to tell . . .that is the question . . .can't tell!  
  
Heart of ice: I remember volleyball tryouts. I didn't make it because of the amount of people that tried out but I got a good review on it. *Grins* No worries about the other reviews, as long as you're satisfied with my chapters, I don't care.  
  
Firefly of hell: I can't tell! That'd be violating the plot!  
  
Simple-siam: *arches a brow* oookay. *Makes confused face* I guess I . . .*looks even more confused* love you too. And your reviews. They make me more confident in my abilities. Besides, I've handled people worse than Letylyf, like when I was in sixth grade and falling into my depression, some guy told me and I quote: "You should just go somewhere and die because no one would cry or miss you so do us all a favor, witch." (They thought I was a witch because I could glare harsh enough to freeze hell over and because they hated me because I was smarter than them and read more books than they could ever read in a lifetime) The guy that said that happens to have a scar left from me too. I lost my temper *looks ashamed* and scratched his face to ribbons. He bled and went to the principal and I nearly got thrown out but then they heard what he said and just gave me detentions . . . as always.  
  
Crystal Meghan: 1) yep. I checked it out because everyone was telling me that his eyes are not black. So I decided to prove them wrong. I went to google, typed in "Tom Riddle Personality" and there were at least five things that popped up. There was one that had a bunch of debates on it so I decided that I was just going to read one and, lo and behold, it was the one I was looking for! 2) Ask and you shall receive! 3) I'm sorry I confused you. I'm not good at explaining things but I'll try. Okay, Mina likes Tom, Tom _thinks_he loves Mina. In truth, he really loves Ginny but he doesn't know that. Ginny also loves him but she doesn't realize that either. 4) Oh, she's said a lot of other things to me that were wise too. My grami made sure her children were wise and made sure they would pass it on to their children (though my aunt says she will never have children because she says it like s***ting a bowling ball and that's why she left it up to my mom to do it for her. Lol!)  
  
Life Sucks: Sorry it took so long! I had tons of Latin quizzes and tests and then I had to do a project on the Ancient Egyptian calendar and then I had two Physics tests and three Geometry quizzes. (and I'm only a freshman but they don't give a damn!)  
  
Nova14: I love that word. Muffins. Muffins muffins muffins. Muffins muffins muffins muffins muffins. Hee hee!  
  
KapOfDaPipers: Cool name! Ha ha! I like cliffhangers! Hence I do it to you all that are reading this all the time. I just don't like it when they are done to me. *smiles innocently*  
  
Taylor: Hold your horses. (not like you have any, but yeah. . .) This chapter is a bit freaky and I have an idea that I might lose some readers after they read this chapter. It's seventeen pages so I hope you like it.  
  
Xxaundra: No worries, I will!  
  
Kellyn Smith: I hope you kept your patience for this chapter. Hopefully.  
  
Lady Coia: Yeah, I know. All the other Myrtles are so depressing. So I decided she had to have some happy moments when she was alive so I decided she could have them with Ginny. That way you guys (and girls) get all the inside stuff. Cool? Cool.  
  
Breaking::Point: Oh, it will definitely change her demise. Trust me, she'll be killed out of spite and jealousy because of Tom's. . .*stops and blinks* Crap I was about to give away the whole point of Myrtle. Dratted monkeys of Ra. Oh well. I didn't like how people kept putting Ginny in Gryffindor and Slytherin so I decided to make my own little choice. A few changes here and there and *poof* we've got a different Ginny. I would just like to thank the Sorting Hat for giving me the wonderful idea!  
  
Crystal Moon Magic: Thank you, I'll try harder. Review this chapter too if you want! *smiles*  
  
Chapter Twelve  
  
Before I could step into my potions class, I dusted off my skirt and robes and fingered combed my hair so it didn't look like what I had been doing. The teacher of my class probably wouldn't like it if she found out I had just been climbed through the dungeons and secrets rooms of Hogwarts and tangling with snakes and Merlin statues when I came in. Most likely she wouldn't like it period.  
  
If it was a she . . .  
  
I entered the classroom, heart in throat and lungs congested with worry. Myrtle was already there, I saw as I entered and prepared to give a good excuse. Instead my mouth dropped open and I felt my knees go weak with disbelief. "Oh, hello!" the teacher called. Despite what Snape had shown me, not all teachers looked gross and disgusting as if they were the vomit you disposed of last week after your illness. Instead, this one, if anything, looked calm and accepting. She was tall, I admit, so tall that I had to crane my neck back and heard it crack a few times. And she had long wavy russet hair that flowed down to her hips in a thick wave. Her face was tan and her body well made. Her face was serene and made to emit a careful loyalty to everyone and fairness in her rules. "I'm sure you have a good excuse for why you are late?" She asked, smiling kindly.  
  
I nearly did back flips I was so happy. She was like the teacher of my dreams . . . except better! "I-I kinda spilled orange juice all over me at breakfast and I had to change. My, err, hose," I looked down, noting the tan colored hose that was thinly coating my skinny legs and looked back up at her, "and I had a philosophical discussion that we saw differently on."  
  
The teacher smiled wider and her eyes twinkled with mirth. "Oh! Ha ha! That happens to me just as often, Miss. . ." Her eyebrows rose in question.  
  
"Virginia Rushton, Ma'am," I replied instantly, not wanting to disappoint her.  
  
She retained her smile and said, "Miss Rushton. How about you take a seat next to . . .Whose seat has an empty neighbor for Miss Rushton to sit in?" Some hands rose but she took the one that rose first, "Okay, Miss Rushton, will you sit over there?" I nodded and moved towards the seat, which was at the back of the class. I took my seat next to a boy with the same color of hair as the teacher and hazel eyes.  
  
Opening my scroll of parchment so I could scribble what was on the board, the boy slid a note to me. "Hi," it said in scratchy letters, "I'm Dror Cypro, fifth year. Why were you really late?"  
  
I frowned deeply, knowing he was watching from the corner of his eyes and scribbled back, "I'm not about to tell someone I just met how I became late. Besides, its classified information. I can't tell you."  
  
I tossed it back to him under the black wooden table and watched avidly while the teacher began to write furiously on the blackboard as she spoke, her voice like a joining of songbirds in a forest. Quickly he glanced at it made a face, and began to scratch a reply. When he handed it back to me I stared at it, surprised. "Fine. Be that way. I can wait." I was surprised only because he didn't pry. Instead he just accepted it and was patient with me. It was such a change from Tom's methods that I nearly laughed. I choked back the laughter and started to catch up with the teacher on her notes. I still didn't know her name, I realized, and so I grabbed up the piece of parchment Dror had been passing notes to me on and wrote something.  
  
"Her name is Professor Clagry," he sketched back and above it I saw my own question of: "What's her name?" I nodded by adding a slight weight to my head to stand for that I understood and turned back to my notes, trying to cover up the way I was thinking. Half of my mind was on the lesson; the other about way Tom had asked if I were his friend. Was I? I wondered and began to make a pie graph as the teacher did to show how many people didn't know how to correctly do potions. Then she wrote out how many of it in statistics and then in ratio.  
  
Sure, I thought, he had bought me most of my stuff, but wouldn't anyone else if they had a silly redheaded girl on their hands that fell out of the sky and into their arms? Even if I wasn't an orphan, I whispered in my mind, he probably still would have bought me such things. And what about that time? I wondered and drudged up the quote he had said, whispering it under my breath as I was paired with the boy next to me. "Gods, Rushton, your going to make your husband happy someday." I muttered and shook my head, not understanding why he had told me that he'd never want to be seen in that physical way he had just been seen with me. He had basically contradicted himself without noticing. Did he forget?  
  
I placed some Yarrow and three-quarters of frog spleen into the cauldron that my partner had and prepared to stir in some Rain's Kiss when my partner caught my hand roughly and asked, "Hey, tell me why you were late?"  
  
I scowled and wrenched my hand away, picking up the spoon in one hand and starting to put the Rain's Kiss in while stirring. He frowned at me and my scowl deepened. "First of all, its none of your business. Second of all, I'm not going to tell you . . .ever! So leave me alone and do your work. Now hand me the boiled fish tongue." I pointed to a scraggily tiny object that was no more than a speck in its charred nature. He gripped it in obvious disgust, handed it to me, noted my exasperated expression and said, "Fine, I won't ask again."  
  
I voiced a thank you and applied the boiled fish tongue while also dripping some porcupine spittle into the cauldron. It gave a satisfied 'poof!' and emitted a cloud of pink-purple smoke that curled lazily around my neck before disappearing. I coughed a bit, waved the rest of the smoke away and tried to see into the thing. Dror, however, wasn't finished interrogating me yet. "Is it true that you like Tom Riddle?" He asked, sending me a sideways glance.  
  
My face turned redder than my hair and my insides curdled with newfound rage. "No," I gritted out and kept my eyes focused solely on the cauldron as I poured on more helping of Rain's Kiss and Yarrow and saw it mix as my spoon twirled around the bowl-like metal furiously. "I don't. We're friends, nothing more. Anyone that told you that is a jerk or a misguided freak."  
  
Dror was about to say something but at my glare he shut his mouth. A few minutes he opened it again. "Gods!" I hurled at him, "Would you stop doing that? Stop asking me questions. It's none of your beeswax, you moronic sheep kisser! Just leave me alone!"  
  
He grinned unexpectedly. "Well, since we are partners in this making, I suggest you be a little nicer to me."  
  
Forced into submission by an idiot, I thought and groaned inwardly. "I am surrounded . . ." Resolutely I turned back to my work and held out a hand filled with chives. "Put these in. Only as much I give you though. I don't want black hair for the rest of the class so try to be careful."  
  
He nodded, amusement lighting his face as he leaned over the cauldron and mixed it in. Another 'poof' emitted from the cauldron again and smoke, this time a green-blue-gray color swirled around both of us before taking to the open window that allowed light and fresh air to enter the room. Already many students had gotten the potion inscription right and were waiting for some more instructions.  
  
"So," Dror said and leaned against a table with his arms crossed and a serious, but interested look crossing face as he asked his question, "Would you like to be my girlfriend? Think of it as a birthday present."  
  
"More like a birthday curse," I muttered lowly as I gave the cauldron one last stir and set it away from the boiling area we had used. It wouldn't do any good if most of it bubbled over and left us with half a flask of flaky quality. The teacher, I suspected, wouldn't like that at all. "No. I'm not interested in a little annoying stalker like you that plagues me constantly with silly questions that have no consequence whatsoever on life's daily routine."  
  
He eyed me with some frustration and amusement before saying something. "Oh come on!" he yelped, "You've got to have an interest in guys in general! I mean, you can't be some ice queen with a frozen flame for a heart. Unless, of course, you're interested in the, err, same gender as you."  
  
I blushed and nearly shouted in outrage, "I do not! Just because I don't agree with your self-made image doesn't mean that I'm gay or something. Good gods, just leave me alone. I do have an interest in guys but not in you!"  
  
Russet eyebrows furrowed in consternation as hazel eyes sparkled beneath them. "So," he murmured, "You're going to be difficult." I scowled and started to walk away from him when his voice rang out again. "Hey! You can't leave till we bottle this stuff and give it to Professor Clagry _and_ I have the bottle."  
  
I groaned and skulked back to him, hunching my shoulders in defeat and slight anger. "So you're going to force me to let you become my boyfriend. That's really pathetic. I wonder what people will say when they hear you had to _force_ someone to become your girlfriend. Probably think about what a loser you are."  
  
Okay, okay, so maybe I was being a bit harsh. But, honestly, if any girl had met someone as annoying as him they would have done the same thing, I'm sure. Not only that but he was really being cruel. I mean, I'm not usually that cruel but he was practically forcing me to become his girlfriend. I just had to fight him tooth and nail and maybe he'd let me go.  
  
Keyword: maybe.  
  
Dror's mouth twisted into a sadistic smile and I knew I was not going to have a chance. Gods dash it all! "Ha. We'll see. Now then, what do you say now about being my girlfriend?"  
  
I growled deep in my throat, glaring at him in such a harsh way that even Tom would have flinched a bit. "Fine." I shot out, "But don't think you'll get much. I'm not kissing you or anything with physical contact."  
  
"Oh," a gleam was in those hazel eyes, "You will."  
  
"Over my dead body."  
  
"That can be arranged, my dear."  
  
"I am not your 'dear.'"  
  
"You are now."  
  
"Show me it in writing and I'll believe you."  
  
"How about I show it to you in a kiss?"  
  
"I think I'll vomit."  
  
"As long as you don't do it on me, schnookems."  
  
I nearly barfed right then and there but something restrained me and I thought of how futuristic Juniper said I was to marry Tom. Maybe . . . Maybe this was a way out . . .?  
  
I grinned suddenly. "You can sit by me at lunch, Dror, but at least one seat down. Oh!" I suddenly remembered something, "and don't call me schnookems or anything mushy. It's really disgusting." I saw him flash a grin of triumph.  
  
Dror, I thought, you don't know what you're getting yourself into.  
  
As we bottled our potion and gave it to Professor Clagry, who took it admiringly and stocked it on her desk, and were dismissed.  
  
Dror walked out of the classroom with his books and cauldron, told me what class he was going to now and ran off in a hurry.  
  
Watching him with some sort of amusement, I turned around and started to go to my next class, looking forward to learning something without being hit on first. I took a step forward.  
  
And was instantly repelled by a wall of stone.  
  
"Oh gods," I muttered and backed away from it. "Not again."  
  
A trademark smirk. A demonic gleam in those black eyes and something bearing sadistic joy crossed Tom Riddle's beautiful features before he covered it with a mask of invisibility and looked me over, then looked at Dror's retreating back.  
  
"A Hufflepuff, Rushton? I think you could do better." He said with that sadistic joy tucked in his voice. "Honestly, Jack seems to have something for you, perhaps you should get rid of the scrap and go for the real meat." His black eyes flashed back to me and I gulped.  
  
"I-We-Well it wasn't really my pick of the litter," I started and watched his features become inquisitive. "He sorta forced me to accept. I really had no choice. If I didn't than I would have never gotten out of class and we would have stood there all day with a boiling potion used for gods' only know what."  
  
Tom's eyes flashed again, but in anger this time, and he spit out, "There is always a choice in the matter, Rushton, no matter how hopeless it seems. There is always another option. You should have chosen to take a few points lost. Ravenclaw will survive, I think, if it loses the House Cup to the Slytherins. . . Again." His smirk greeted me again, with a challenge to rebuke him.  
  
"You know," I said quietly, "You seem to assume a lot of things, Riddle. First you assume that I trust you and consider you my friend. Then you assume that it's my birthday, even though it is. And now you assume that I had a choice and that Slytherin will win the House Cup just because Slytherin won it last year-"  
  
"And for that last fifty years."  
  
"Yes, and for the last fifty years. . .Wait! What?" His insertion of his knowledge had seemed so right to me that I didn't take time to wonder at his words. Fifty years? Plus one? Holy gods on high! I had to face that? I felt something akin to fear and stress grip my beating heart and swallowed thickly so that my breath exhaled loudly and just as broad as my swallow. Anyone would have thought it a gasp, but for the fact that it was being exhaled instead of inhaled. I stared up at Tom, testing and weighing this information, trying out strategy after strategy in my head and watching each crumple like a fainted maiden at my feet. Each of the strategies' deaths were blows to my body, both physically and mentally. So, I thought with pain, I have to defeat a dragon instead of a serpent. A dragon with large green and silver scales facing a chicken with silver and azure feathers. Oh, I can already guess who will win.  
  
Tom's smirk grew as my hopes diminished to nothingness. "Yes, Rushton, horror of horrors the righteous Slytherins have won the House Cup for fifty one years and is winding up for a fifty second victory over all. Though I have to say we often have to bring Ravenclaw to some sorts of mischief in order to keep the lead. Your house has often put up a magnificent fight for the Cup, but never won it. Came close once, in fact. But some girl, Myrtle I think her name was, got in trouble for sneaking food out of the kitchens at night and was punished at the last second, surprisingly. She's such a stupid girl. I don't see how can live in this school. Not only that but she's a mudblood."  
  
My anger rose, a phoenix rising from a mountain of ashamed ashes and tears. "No, she is not a mudblood. She is a human child with the blood of muggles. She should not be called a mudblood. She is a muggle."  
  
My "friend's" eyes narrowed accusingly. "Do you have some sort of connection with this girl, Rushton? That. . . muggle filth?" Those same black onyx eyes danced between red and black, one trying to conquer the other in an eternal war of color. My own eyes responded, feeling some strange shaking feeling going through them.  
  
I raised my chin defiantly and met his bloody gaze straight on and without fear. "I am her friend, Riddle. And if you find it displeasing you can leave my presence and never come back until you have found a way to cope with it, because I will _never_ ever change my ways to fit into your little quota. I have my own goals. My own expectations and I will meet them in my own ways, not yours and anyone else. I am my own master and no one else can claim to have hold on my decisions. Not you, not the gods, not Juniper or Jack or Luca or Richard or anyone. Me. I am my own mistress. I rule my heart and its decisions. If you don't like it you can leave for I am no friend of anyone who hates my heart and mind so."  
  
His eyes narrowed dangerously and I felt a tiny baby of fear being born inside me. His eyes, or what remained through his eyelids, were so red I thought him possessed. Oh gods, I thought, what have I awakened in my rebellion? Then, to my amazement, his eyes returned to normal and he waved his hand regally as if dismissing some servant. "I'll accept your decision for now, Rushton, though you may regret it later." One more flash of red migrated across his gaze and I raised my chin a bit higher. Tom, in answer, raised his finger, tilted my chin up a bit more and said, "Your defiance and stubbornness can only get you so far, Rushton, the rest must be will and strength. Remember that."  
  
Ignoring the burning frosty feeling that was settling though my chin, I moved my head away from him and said, "I will, and you would be wise to remember my own warning since I will not take care to remind you again unless necessary." I started to move towards my next class, making sure I had the books I needed when he called out again.  
  
"Rushton?" He called out and moved to my side in two quick strides. His smirk, as customary, was there, unperturbed by my warning and as strong as ever. But under that. In his eyes I thought I saw a sliver of doubt. "Remember. You have herbal lore with the rest of the Slytherins and me. Allow me to walk with you."  
  
My jaw clenched and unclenched with the urge to punch him where it hurts on a boy but I didn't move save for a stiff nod in his direction. I started walking again and heard him try to match his steps with mine. "Gods, Rushton, your strides are tiny. Can't you move a little faster?" I could hear the wonder and amazement in his voice as if asking me how I got around at all.  
  
"No." Was all I said and I started to walk at a more leisurely pace. Somewhere, something awakened in me. The urge to run was strong. To stretch my legs and rush away from the school and into the Forbidden Forest with the wind caressing my hairs and my tail. To hear the howl of my voice as I bared my throat to the moonlight in wild abandonment. To sink my sharp teeth in quivering flesh and feel the beat of the steady flow of blood run across my tongue. To run and run and run and never stop till my lungs heaved with only the strength to bring breath into my nose and bring life again.  
  
I looked down at myself, saw dark red fur start to cover my wrist and stared at it in horror. My footsteps, so shallow and empty of any real life as I tried to one up Tom, stopped as I watched the dense fur spread up my arm and creep across my neck and torso. "R-R-Riddle?" I asked, my voice shaking in puzzlement and panic. "Help me. How do I stop it?"  
  
He shrugged. "Don't. There's nothing you can do. The wolf will take over you, you will flee the safety of the school's halls and you will run into the forest, forgetting you are human. I wouldn't worry though. It will go in an hour or so."  
  
I stared at him, my mouth slightly ajar. "How would you know?"  
  
He stared back, unmoved by my expression or fear. "Because, Rushton, I am a veteran of this and I know what to expect. The only difference is that I was alone and had to figure it out on my own. I'll come with you though, since you obviously aren't ready for any of this. I'll come in wolf form too. No worries, Rushton."  
  
"But you. . . I. . . I thought. . ." My tone was startled. And rightly so, I thought, since this youth should care nothing about me and since he will also kill my old crush's parents and make my life a living hell.  
  
"Yes, Rushton, I'm going to come with you, despite whatever you say. I'm not about to have you get stuck in wolf form and get blamed for not helping you get out of it. Dippet would throw and fit and die a virgin, though I doubt he's even that." He rolled his eyes at my glare and started walking while watching my face change to one of pale human skin to another of blood red fur with a muzzle that itched furiously. I raised a hand to scratch it and saw a paw instead. My vision suddenly lowered and I saw only a few feet off the ground, my bushy crimson tail brushing the ground elegantly behind me as if I were some wolf queen instead of a now-fifteen- year-old girl with no life. I gave my tail a little shake as if asking if it were real and raised a back paw to scratch a pointy ear. "Better get rid of those, Rushton," Tom said though to me it was a whole different language, one that was unnecessary because I didn't understand it. I only knew two languages, sound and unheard.  
  
I barked, short and sweet, and the sound resounded through the halls of Hogwarts and down cavernous stairways to classrooms where teachers would later wonder why they were hearing things. I barked three more times then circled around Tom in askance. "May I run now?" I seemed to ask, since that was what I longed to know. What I longed to do.  
  
"Wait," he said in that foreign language. I could barely make it out since my ears were more tuned to the subtle sounds of wolftongue and not the loud, blunt, ugly sounds of human speech. Only a few shreds of humanity remained to me. Only those precious few could understand the human tongue and decipher it for me again, that I may understand.  
  
I watched as the black haired boy with black eyes changed from human to wolf in front of me. I whined a bit in the back of my throat, not understanding what I was seeing or who this person was anymore. Who was I, for that matter?  
  
When I tried to see the boy with the hair and eyes of midnight kiss, I couldn't see him, only a very appealing wolf with the same midnight kiss across his fur and in his eyes. The boy, I thought logically, is now wolf, as all should be. I sniffed the wolf's face and the bottom of his paws, trying to see who he was. But the odors he gave off were only those of power and wanting. I shrunk back, not knowing that the wanting for family or understanding it. I had a pack. There were eight of us. The alpha male and female. The beta wolf and the outcast. There were the cubs of the Alpha male and female and the hunters who helped us cubs survive another winter and summer without worrying about food or sleep. I was one of those cubs. I was one of the cubs the Alpha male and female had fifteen summers ago, when badger and deer grew fat and lazy and we fed easily off their young.  
  
But this wolf. He had no pack. He was not loved or cared for by the Alpha male or female. No. He had been rejected. The Alpha female died after the blood-rebirth for even with Alpha females and wolves in general a blood-rebirth is harsh and life taking if necessary. The Alpha male had left his mate to blood-rebirth her midnight cub alone, in silence and sorrow. And hatred was set into a picture of the Alpha male by the midnight kissed wolf.  
  
I whimpered again, pressing my nose into the wolf's black fur and offered what little reassurance I could give him. But he pushed my away with a snarl and started to lope down the hallway and awkward shelf things that went up and down curiously and made me think before I moved. But I followed the wolf anyway, keeping in tight to his paw prints, measuring step for step as I moved so that I would not displace any dust that had not already been shuffled around by human cubs with impatient ways and guttural voices that stung the ears.  
  
And so the wolf and I moved our way through the hallway, his fur untouched by air because of some strange fur that covered his true black hairs. Except that this fur was woven and strange. It was not soft at all, only coarse and ugly. The feeling was harsh against the teeth, for it felt slippery and made noises when you tried to chew it off. I tried it on the strange fur that was covering me but it wouldn't come off. The fur was woven too tightly and I didn't like the feel of it against my teeth. "Deer fur," I thought dreamily, "easily would win if I had to choose which I would rather chew off."  
  
"Yes," said the black wolf and I was caught off guard so much that my paw lost the timing of the awkward shelf things and I tumbled down the remainder of the shelves till I landed on my hindquarters at the bottom and sat there with a tilt to my head and my tongue lolling out. The black wolf chuckled and I thought of what he might do if I turned around and bit him on the tail. "You won't do that, Rushton. If you do, I will bite back. And rightly so as well," his thought was subtle, almost teasing, in humor.  
  
"I. . . You . . . Jerk!" I yelped at him and rose to my paws to trot a little more in the direction of fresh air. I could tell where I was going that way. The fresh air was colder, more crystalline and icy in flavor than stale, used air, which was more like sniffing cotton and chewing the strange fur that covered my real fur. Lifting my nose a bit and tilting my head to the side, I sniffed delicately and caught the scent of fresh air from the south. I ran down the passageway closest to the south and began a headlong rush towards freedom.  
  
I thought of the forest and how the grass, so long and wild, would whip at my feet and legs. I thought of how my muscles would burn after my long run through the lowest branches of trees and scouting the animals out till I knew everyone of their scents. Oh freedom. Oh joy.  
  
Oh hell.  
  
I ran headlong into a swinging door and crumpled to the ground, a heap of red fur, claws and teeth. "Drat it. Drat it. Drat it." I shouted painfully.  
  
I heard the black wolf chuckle and again my mind tried hard to remember his name. Why couldn't I remember? What was he called? Does he know me? Do I know him?  
  
"The wolf side of your brain is taking over your human side, canceling out any recent information you've gained because that's the easiest to shake off. The older memories, childhood memories, are still there because they've taken root, Rushton. You know me, yes, but you can't remember me since we only met a couple of days ago. Because of that, my name and information you have on me has been deleted from your memory so that the wolf side can replace it with instincts and necessities. Quite moronic if you ask me, but its true. If you want to remember all you have to do is focus and it will all come back, kicking the wolf's instincts out of your head. I need to warn you though. Once you throw out the wolf's instincts they don't come back. _Ever_. So its usually best if you keep them in case you get in," The black wolf paused, thinking about a good word to use in my case, ". . .trouble."  
  
My wolf head tilted up and down in what represented consent and I focused, trying to grasp the strands of memories that were being unraveled from the loom of my mind as I took each wolf breath. The first memory, a terrifying one, came back quicker than I would have liked. It was as if it had been waiting just outside the door, pacing alongside the handle of the door to my memory as it waited for me to open it up and let it in.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
I dipped my feathered quill into the ink pot, reveling in the feel of it beneath my curled fingers, breathing in the smell of fresh parchment and black liquid that would soon be combined.  
  
When my hand touched the page, my slender fingers eagerly wrote: "Hello, my name is Virginia Weasley, though I like to be called Ginny because Virginia is a stupid name and I don't like it. I'm ten years old and I'm the seventh child and only girl of Arthur Weasley. I have six brothers so I feel left out all the time when they talk about 'boy stuff.'"  
  
I lifted the tip of quill's feather to my lips, running the light feather over them gently so that it tickled and I had to lick my lips to get rid of the feeling. I then wrote on the next line again, focusing only on my scribbles as they drifted solemnly to the page as if I were contemplating my future and my past at the same time. Again I started to write. "I suppose that's why people don't understand me. Because I want to know everything so that I can go into any conversation without being puzzled by the first words they say. And I suppose that having six brothers that know it all doesn't help. They're always reprimanding me for something. It's always: "Ginny, move!" or "No, Ginny, you've got to do it _this_ way" as if I didn't know what I was doing and just walking through a dream."  
  
I paused, taking a deep breath before writing the next line, knowing that what I was about to write would be the most painful thing. Knowing it was just a step over a cliff, and when that cliff ended no body knew. "I don't have any friends. I don't know why. I think that all people see about me is my red hair and ragged clothes and they think I'm not worth their time. It hurts. It feels like a knife to the stomach or your best friend telling you that they've been hating you ever since you first met and the only reason they've stuck with you is because they wanted some secrets to put out into the world. I want people to know that I am worth their time. That I'm not just the seventh child and only girl child of a poor pureblood family living off scraps and rags. I have a mind too, just like everyone else. I can do things just as well as they can, if not better. I have a heart. And sometimes people don't see that. They don't see what I am. I'm not just a little girl dressed in hand-me-down robes with foolish notions about romance and dresses and stuff. I'm a witch. I'm what I want to be. I am me."  
  
I finished, and then looked away from the black book that looked like a diary and out the window. There, sitting on his broom, was the great Harry Potter, firstborn and only son of Lily and James Potter, victor over the evil wizard Voldemort and savior of our school. I could see him clearly. The way his black messy hair was tousled affectionately by the wind. The way his green eyes lit up behind his glasses and the way his skin took on a rosy glow as he flew into the cool wind.  
  
A faint stirring twitched in my stomach and a wave of heat crossed my face. Who was I to think that he would ever want me? Despite all those things I wrote in that black book I still felt like that. I still felt like I was _just_ the only girl and seventh child of a poor family. I still felt like a little girl with stupid notions in her head about dreamy romance and knights in shining armor and such. I still felt like I had yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.  
  
I twisted by fiery blue gaze back the diary, looking at the blank page in front of me. "What?" I nearly shouted, "Where did my. . .?" I flipped through a few pages, trying to see if maybe the book had flipped forward by some unfelt breeze. But I saw nothing. Instead, I turned back to the page I had been writing on.  
  
And nearly flipped out of my seat.  
  
"What the. . .?" My scare, panicked voice rose through the syllables, trying to accomplish what my facial expression might not. "Holy muffins," I whispered and stared at the spidery script that stretched where my paragraphs had once been.  
  
"Hello, Ginny. My name is Tom Riddle. Would you like to be my friend?"  
  
And for the first time in my life, I, Virginia Rose Weasley, felt a stirring of hopeful celebration in my heart.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
Before I had time to take a breath, another memory and another and another washed over me. Each more terrifying and gruesome than the last.  
  
*Flashback* (AN: Okay, this is going to get confusing because her memories will meld together to form one huge one. So basically, there might be a part where she's talking to Tom in the diary but then there will be another thing, in another paragraph, that she's talking to him in the Chamber and another one where she's talking to Ron at the Burrow or another where she's a little girl again, trying to make sense of everything around her. Because it will get confusing (because I made it up it _will_ be confusing, trust me) I'm going to put two star thingies in front of every new memory in this one flashback. Okkie dokie? Okkie dokie! *grins*)  
  
"Hello, Ginny. My name is Tom Riddle. Would you like to be my friend?"  
  
"Yes," I wrote and collapsed into a world where Tom Riddle was a friend.  
  
** "Ginny! Ginny, stop!" I heard my brother's voice coming up the stairs after me and ran harder and faster, trying to get to my room before he could see my hurt. "I didn't mean it! Seriously! Hold on! Please!"  
  
I whirled around on the top step, looking down at him in anger and pain. Ron's face was pleading with me but I didn't see that. I only saw a brother who thought of me only as a thorn in the side, to be dismissed and plucked out when he wanted me to be plucked out. "What? You didn't mean it? You didn't mean what you said? Well, Ronald Weasley, you certainly sounded like you meant it."  
  
I whirled again, catching the door knob, all rusted and brown, between my fingers and twisting it to the side, then open as Ron's voice came back to me. "Ginny. Please don't be like this!"  
  
My red hair, straight and long, spun around me like silken fire as I face him again. Underneath me, the step creaked as if laughing at our expense. "Don't be like what, Ron? Tell me what I'm behaving like because I'd _certainly_ like to know. After all, that's what you like to do to me isn't it? Criticize everything I do so that I'm little Miss Perfect. Well, I don't want to be little Miss Perfect, Ron! I want to be me! I want to be what my heart is telling me to be. I want to be able to do anything _I_ want to do because that's what _I_ want to do, not what some brother is telling me. I don't want to be bossed around by you or anyone, Ron!"  
  
"But Ginny-"  
  
"No, Ron. I don't care. You meant it. You know you did. So just fess up and leave me alone." I shouted at him with what little voice I had left and then entered my room, slamming the door and falling onto my bed. As I stared at my wall I whispered, "I am not 'just some little girl.' I am not!"  
  
** Then he leaned in so that our faces were so close that only a centimeter impeded our lips from touching. "What are you afraid of the most, Ginny?" he whispered, lips moving steadily to my ears. "What gives you the most nightmares at night? What makes your blood curl in your veins and your heart beat fast when you lie alone in the dark?"  
  
** I cringed, listening to their jeering voices. Malfoy's head, silver hair glistening, stuck in front of my vision. "What do you know you're just a Weasley?" Then he was gone. And I huddled into my leather chair, feeling the softness of it and taking recluse in it. I called their words.  
  
Weasel  
  
Idiot girl  
  
Ugly dog  
  
Red wolf  
  
Mudblood wannabe  
  
Dogkisser  
  
Rags  
  
Carrot-top  
  
Fire head  
  
Poor child  
  
Bastard daughter  
  
Whelp of a whore  
  
Daughter of fire's curse  
  
Bitch  
  
Whore  
  
Slut  
  
Fae  
  
Fairy face  
  
Leprechaun  
  
Mouse girl  
  
Vassal of flame  
  
Red wolf  
  
Ungrateful wench  
  
Red wolf  
  
Red wolf  
  
A gaping mouth, filled with rows of teeth, all razor sharp. The red fur was tinged with blood as it dripped down from its monstrous jaws. Its paws were as pig as frying pans and the claws as long as butcher's knives. The eyes were garnets set in a ruby colored face that was etched with madness. In the mouth were children, screaming, trying to get out. Their faces, so sweet and innocent were full of terror and horror. "Help us," they cried, "help us, mommy!" But no one came and the red wolf ate them till bones were dust coating its teeth and the blood ran like rivers out of its mouth. Every so often there was a finger, or a hand reaching out for help, or maybe a bone polished clean by the wolf's hunger.  
  
And for the first time in my life, I was afraid.  
  
** I screamed, my voice harsh with fear and honed to a fine edge. I heard the distinct sound of someone scrabbling up the long steps to my room, and the door click open. My mother, sleepy and hair askew from sleeping walking over to me hurriedly.  
  
"What is it? What happened?" she asked and when she saw the tears in my eyes she grabbed me to hold me close. "Oh, shush, shush, Ginny. Did you have a nightmare?"  
  
I nodded against her ample chest and cried, thinking of the monster that was in my dreams. In a flash I saw red fur, tinged with blood. And children. Tons of screaming children littering its jaws.  
  
"What happened in the nightmare?" my mother's kind voice soothed me and I stopped crying.  
  
"T-there was a red wolf, mommy, and he gobbled up all these children and they kept calling for help but none of their mommies or daddies would help them because they were afraid of the red wolf." As I told my mother about the red wolf who ate children I felt her shudder and looked up. "What's the matter, mommy?"  
  
My mother looked down at me sternly, her face set in the stubborn and punishing way that I knew from whenever I stole the hot cookies that she had baked before they had cooled or whenever I took something of my brother's and they wanted it back but I wouldn't give it to them. "There will be no more talk about red wolves now, Ginny. They don't exist. Now go back to sleep, love."  
  
I watched her get up from my bed, rub at her hair and start to leave the room. "Mommy?" I asked, tender and high-pitched voice sounding in my room, "Will you tell me a story?"  
  
My mother turned around to look at me, stared at my blue eyes and said, "No, Ginny, not tonight."  
  
**I struggled not to cry, steeling myself against Snape's ugly voice. "So, Miss Weasley, what do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
I looked down, not wanting to see the snickering faces of the Slytherins or the disappointed and glaring faces of the Gryffindors. I had lost my homework again and Snape wasn't pleased. Now Gryffindor was going to lose more points because of me. "Nothing, sir." I whispered, blinking back the sudden burning in my eyes.  
  
"What did you say, Miss Weasley? I couldn't hear you." His tone was a drawl, goading me into anger and more tears, though I didn't show it.  
  
"Nothing, sir."  
  
"I still can't hear you, Miss Weasley."  
  
"Nothing, sir." I shouted and a tear slipped out of my eye on impact of my voice. I moved a hand up, as if brushing away a strand of hair, and wiped it away.  
  
"Well, then, Miss Weasley, you don't have your homework or your excuse. You had no explanation for your last late work either. Twenty points from Gryffindor at your expense, Miss Weasley. Let's hope you try harder next time, because each assignment that you miss from now on will lead to ten more points from Gryffindor, plus the others you have lost. Now, then, back to the lesson."  
  
**As I danced with Neville, I tried to ignore the pain in my feet. Honestly, I thought wincingly, Neville's going to kill me with his clumsiness. Instead of reprimanding him, though, I just smiled as if he wasn't slowly trampling me to death and complemented him on his robes.  
  
"Thanks," he muttered and blushed. He stepped on my feet again and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.  
  
As the song ended, Neville and I separated and walked back to our table. "Would you like a drink?" he asked, clearly afraid that if I said no we would just sit here and have nothing to talk about.  
  
"Yes, please," I said and watched him go with a strange sense of relief.  
  
Another tune struck up, this one slow and peaceful, and almost all the couples went to the dance floor for a chance to be alone and close. I felt my eyelids get heavy and closed them, feeling a wave of peace go over my whole body.  
  
Before I had time to react, I was spun up into someone's arms and forced to dance with them. My blue eyes snapped open in anger.  
  
Gray met blue as I stared at Malfoy. "Malfoy," I said curtly and coldly, "What do you want?"  
  
He smirked. "I would just like to know something, Weasel. Have you been having strange dreams lately?"  
  
My mind returned to the red wolf, the children screaming, the blood flowing between its jaws and it bite down and killed hundreds of children. I shuddered lightly and stared straight at him unflinching. "Where is Pansy, Malfoy?" I asked and I could see how his amusement was struck by the idea of me changing the subject.  
  
"Somewhere. But that doesn't mean you don't have to answer my question, Weasel. Have you been having strange dreams?" His silver eyes pierced mine easily but I didn't have any reaction this time.  
  
"I believe that is my personal information, Malfoy, so if you could back off and let me breathe my own air for a moment, I'd be grateful." I gave him a death glare so cold that I felt him twitch. A smile nearly lit my features as I felt it. My gods, I thought, I made Malfoy flinch!  
  
"So then, you do have bad dreams. Tell me, Weasel, what are they about? Fairies with big bad knives, Voldemort?" His voice was teasing and when he saw no reaction for either of them, he ventured further. "Wolves and children?" I stiffened, trying to draw away from his touch. "So," he drawled, "the Weasel's afraid of the big bad wolf? How funny. And I thought it would be serpents." Seeing my fearful gaze he said suddenly, "Oh, don't worry, Weasel, I won't tell anyone . . . undeserving of the information."  
  
With that Malfoy left me and I retreated back to my chair, shivers crisscrossing my skin as if ridding myself of a taint. Back at the table, Neville waited with punch, some food, and questions  
  
**"One flight  
Through time's own demise  
Comes the child  
Of fire's heart  
Red wolf she hunts to be  
Red wolf she changes into  
The fire's core  
Love's true light."  
  
I listened to my voice as it sung the words. My voice wasn't as clear and precise as it could be but it didn't matter. I was a horrible singer anyway. The thestrals liked it, I thought as one of them came over to me. As it patted its nose I whispered, "Gendry. You're Gendry." The thestral snorted, leaning down its black neck to sniff my shoes and robes. "The red wolf," I murmured with a shudder, "Seems to be in everything I do. I don't get it. What's so important about a red wolf?"  
  
But the thestral had no answer, and neither did anything else that day.  
  
** "You're a whore's daughter, Ginny, admit it!" Pansy's eye gleamed with their ugly self-centered glow as I blinked harshly and rubbed my eyes, as if some sort of light was blinding me. "I mean, you're so ugly. Even your brothers can't bear to look at you."  
  
I cringed and gritted my teeth, standing strong and trying to let the remarks roll off me, like water over a stone in a river. I pictured it clearly: the water, a silver ribbon that flashed sapphire then white like lightening as it darted through the sun's rays of gold. I saw the way the rock melded with the water, making its surface as smooth as a polished dragonscale and just as clean. The way it became as soft as silk when touched. But still hard, oh so hard, when throw and slashed across an enemy's eyes or face.  
  
"Come on, Ginny. Are you as mute as you are stupid? You certainly weren't when you were defending Potty Potter last year. Say something, Ginny. Come on, Ginny, say something." Then, seeing no reaction from my face or eyes she grinned, showing off teeth that would fade to yellow if she didn't do something soon. Her eyes, ugly and mud colored, narrowed as the flat, squashy nose of the pug dog she resembled flared its nostrils. "Whore's bitch." She said and turned around, one hand on her hip, her squashed nose in the air, pretending she was superior. Then, as if finally getting an idea, she turned around, "You're like a red wolf, you know that, with all that red hair and a wolf's loneliness. Wolves are gross too, just like you. They eat people and have fleas. You probably do the latter. And besides, the best pelt is wolf. Should we slash your throat and skin you too?" She laughed, shrill and shrieky and I winced again.  
  
I thought of my dreams. A red wolf, blood gushing out its mouth, followed by hands reaching towards a help that wouldn't come. A howl. Red wolf. Red blood. Red eyes. Red fur. Red blood. Hands. Fingers. Eyes. Red wolf. Red blood. Red eyes. Red children. Screaming blood. Furry blood. Red hands. Furry hands. Furry fingers. Blue eyes. Red hair. Red blood. Gushing. Screaming. Death. Help. Twist. Turn. Writhe. Scream. Scream. Scream. Red blood. Flaming hair. Pale fur. Red wolf. Children screaming. Help. Blood. Eyes. Fingers. Hands. Feet. Children. Hair. Fur. Tongue lolling for more blood. Disgust. Fear. Scream. Blood. Hair. Wolf. Children. Sheep. Blood. Death. Fate.  
  
**Then he leaned in so that our faces were so close that only a centimeter impeded our lips from touching. "What are you afraid of the most, Ginny?" he whispered, lips moving steadily to my ears. "What gives you the most nightmares at night? What makes your blood curl in your veins and your heart beat fast when you lie alone in the dark?"  
  
**My twisted fate.  
  
*End Flashbacks*  
  
The memories shocked me so much that I fell out of my wolf state, clothes still intact, and lay on the ground, covering my head with my hands, throwing up onto the floor. It was a few more minutes till I felt hands pulling my hair back out of my face and someone trying desperately to make me be quieter. Could they not see I was throwing up? Sobbing at the same time? And basically losing my mind because of some silly past?  
  
Obviously not.  
  
After my breakfast finished coming up, my mouth kept going. And that's when the trouble started.  
  
A red, sticky liquid poured itself out of my mouth and onto the floor, leaving a strange, tangy feeling wash over me. I sobbed harder, thinking of the red wolf. Thinking of me! As more garnet wine spewed out of me, I cried, "No. Not again. Please no. No more children. No more. Please, gods, no more. The children. . .the children. . .and the hands and fingers and the help. . .red wolf. . .no no no no no no no no no." Over and over again as more and more of my life flooded the cobblestones in front of me.  
  
My tears mixed with the blood; changing it from a red so dark it was black to a strange carmine color. I saw that color become the only color my eyes let me see. I felt it leak into the skin of my fingers and drip over my robes. Then the person who had been holding my hair let it go and I saw red.  
  
I screamed, high pitched and loud. The sound resounded through the hallway, dipping into doorways and hallways alike. Scrambling up towers and into the classrooms where the hair on the back of student's necks would stand straight up at the pain and terror in it. Even the person in front of me took a step back in shock as I propelled myself away from the red, trying so hard to rip it away.  
  
Then the person was there again, pressing fingers to a spot in my neck hard enough so that in a few seconds the vision in my eyes became hazy, gray then black then gray then black.  
  
And stayed black. 


	13. Hospital Woes

River-Star: Okay, chapter thirteen (unlucky number, unlucky number! Ahh!) is up, finally. Enjoy. Thank you, faithful readers and reviewers especially Taylor, who has created a lovely picture of Ginny for me!  
  
Miss Melancholy: Yeah, I like stories that are long too. This one, I hope, goes for more than twenty chapters. Yes, I feel into a depression too in sixth grade and tried to kill myself five times (as if that doesn't tell you what an honest-to-goodness failure I am!) But I'm thankful that I had friends that loved me enough to stick by me throughout it all and help me through it.  
  
Ennui2: Oh shucks. I did a typo then. I guess I miscounted. I thought (for a moment) that there were only six. *whacks head with palm repeatedly* Stupid, stupid, stupid me! And, if anything, I should think Tom is going to be more suspicious and a bit more wary of the way she acts. Probably start being protective too.  
  
Bruxsa: Oh, I've had worst black eyes than this one. I had one (same person did it by the way) that I got because she got mad at me and tried to hit my knee with her shoe (which was a high heel, drat it!) but I kicked at it and it flew up and smacked me in the face. I had that black eye for three weeks before it went away.  
  
Lady Coia: Whoa! I though people would be seriously freaked out by that chapter. I guess not. Thanks!  
  
Wizzabee: *tsk tsk* I thought about putting Dror in Slytherin but I decided that would give Ginny way too many ties to the dark part of Hogwarts. I thought that chapter was disgusting too, hence why I had Ginny vomit at the end. In my point of view, no one should be able to see that and get away with a clean throat.  
  
Pukie: *grins* As I intended it to be, of course! I just didn't mean for it to be _that_ strange.  
  
Taylor: You're sooooo lucky! At least someone _loves_ you! I haven't even by kissed yet! And no one's ever had a crush on me (at least not within my realm of knowledge.) Your picture is so cool too. I love it. (HEY! IF ANYONE IS READING MY NOTE TO TAYLOR: GO CHECK OUT HER DRAWING! IT'S THE BEST ONE I'VE EVER EVER SEEN BEFORE!) Okay, sorry, momentarily brilliance thing there. That's so cool that you have long distance. I live in Missouri and my parent's never ever give me stuff like long distance so I'm stuck with a stupid cell-phone thing. (If anyone cares, my number is: (636)-239-8586, I'd like some help with this fic with my reviewers too, after all its all for them!)  
  
Kellyn Smith: Thanks. Tell me what you want next and you shall receive it (as long as it fits in with the plot of course)  
  
HeatherM: Yeah, ma's okay. Orlando is hot! My friend Ron (it's a girl, don't worry) has her closet doors covered with pictures of him and everything. It's so funny! I love the Trojan War and myths so I'll probably see that movie! Funness!  
  
Marilda24: Cool! Thanks so much. That makes me feel much more confident about my writing.  
  
Lily Rose Evans: Thanks! I appreciate that. If you have any questions or anything just ask and I'll do my best to answer them. I don't want my reviewers and readers to be confused or anything. That would be bad.  
  
Crystal Moon Magic: Patience is a virtue!. . .That I don't have. Anyway, I don't know. Depends when the moment's right, I guess.  
  
Deatheater4: My worst fear about setting it up really late was that people would think that I abandoned it and would have abandoned me! That would really suck.  
  
Firefly of hell: oh just stuff about how you found it hard to believe that Tom was a virgin and stuff. It was good. Don't worry. Be happy. (God I hate that phrase.)  
  
NOTE: I WOULD LIKE SOME HELP ON THIS SINCE ITS FOR YOU GUYS (AND GIRLS) SO IF YOU WANT YOU CAN EMAIL ME AT t1west@earthlink.net OR YOU CAN CALL ME ON MY HOME PHONE AT (636)-938-9238. THOUGH I WOULD PERFER EMAIL! THANKS~!!!!!  
  
Chapter Thirteen  
  
Darkness.  
  
Darkness encased my world, spread around it, swallowed it, chewed it. Darkness, the pitch black of night with no moon, the plague of shadow that was in my head. The darkness ate my vision as I felt someone lift me and walk somewhere, carry me down steps, my head bobbing one each stair as we went down, till finally we reached somewhere and I was left on something warm and soft.  
  
I snuggled against the warm, soft thing, and sighed, breathing in deeply the smell of chamomile and roses. I sniffed delicately the air and felt a sleepy wave of content drift over my senses. There was a tangy taste in the back of my throat, but I didn't notice it. I focused on the roses and chamomile and breathed deeply with each inflation of my lungs till my whole world was painted in the scents.  
  
Then something other-worldly, something bizarre passed through my brain. It was like a memory but it was not one of mine or anyone I knew.  
  
*memory time!*  
  
"Mama! Mama!" the little girl, age six at best, ran up to the red haired woman, her black hair swirling in waves behind her like some rain cloud that had fallen in love with the child. The red haired woman, her blue eyes creasing gently at the corners, reached out and took the child in her arms, treasuring the gift of a hug.  
  
The girl was beautiful, with black hair that was so dark as to be blue, and eyes that were as black as midnight or blacker. Her skin was a pale sheen of flesh stretched over long limbs and graceful muscles. Her nose was delicately pointed and easily sniffing out each scent. "Mama! Mel was being mean to me again. She told Nimmy that I'm a snake in the grass! What does that mean?"  
  
The woman, her red hair flashing against the sun and turning into a blaze, stretched out a hand, tucking a stray strand of black behind the child's ear. "Mel is just joking, sweet. She doesn't mean it. Where is Nymeria, anyway?" The woman's blue eyes turned into an azure flame as she watched another child, the same age as the girl, step forward through the trees.  
  
Where the first child seemed born of night, the other seemed like fire. Her hair was a tangle of red that was untamed and wilder than anything the world had created. Her skin was a golden patch of sunlight and her eyes were the same color as the woman's: a blue flame of color. Her body was tiny and slender, compact almost so that one could imagine fitting her into one's pocket and she wouldn't mind. Her face reminded other's of a fairy or some forgotten princess from a story. The gown the sun child wore was dirty and cut in some places that suggested romping through the woods in search of adventure.  
  
The woman laughed at the child's appearance. She held out the arm that did not surround the dark child and beckoned to the girl that was obviously her daughter. The girl grinned broadly and ran into her mother's arms. "Nymeria! You're so muddy. What did you do to yourself?" The woman laughed again as she held her child slightly away to keep from becoming too muddy.  
  
Nymeria's face brightened, making the golden skin look all the more golden and delicious. "Mel and I were hunting dragons, Mama! But Mel got caught and I had to rescue her."  
  
The woman pressed her daughter close and gently touched Nymeria's cheek with a slender, tiny hand. In truth, she didn't look like a mother. She looked like she was fifteen at best, with long straight red hair that swept to her feet and swirled around her face elegantly. She was thin, with porcelain skin that shimmered like water. But the girls in her arms didn't notice this one bit. To them, she was their mother, strong and brave, married to a monster of a man.  
  
The woman seemed to ask the most important question to Nymeria. "But did you get a dragon?" She looked her child deeply in those blue eyes and pulled a straight face.  
  
The dark haired child frowned. "No! There are no such things as dragons, Mama! Not here anyway. Besides, if there were, we'd be dead!" She clung to her mother, weaving her long arms around the woman's neck. "I don't want to die, Mama."  
  
The mother's straight face really did go serious then. "You won't, sweet. Never. You won't die, not ever." The dark haired child's frown deepened as she looked into her mother's eyes. Black clashed with blue as they stared at one another.  
  
"What do you mean, Mama? Everyone dies sometime. We'll die too." The girl's brow furrowed in concentration.  
  
The mother's face cleared of any emotion as she said, "Never mind, my dears. We have work to do. We have lessons to conclude and it takes nearly all day to walk home. Besides, your cousin is coming to visit."  
  
The sun child brightened considerably. "Draco's coming to visit? And Uncle Lucius? Oh yea!" She skipped away from her mother and strolled down a dirt path quickly, chanting, "Draco's coming to visit, Draco's coming to visit!" Then the child stopped and looked at her sober mother and sister, "Is Daddy coming home too?"  
  
A shimmer of water appeared in the mother's eyes, but she blinked them away. "No, Nymeria. Daddy's not coming home. Not yet." She gripped her dark child's hand tightly and walked to her other daughter, grabbing that one's hand, and together they walked down the path to home.  
  
*end memory time!*  
  
"No, Nymeria. Daddy's not coming home. Not yet," I murmured, copying the red haired woman's words with certainty. Then my eyes popped open and I stared hard at the stone ceiling, with its massive cobwebs and spiders drifting down from it.  
  
I felt a presence, cold and certain, beside me, and looked beside me. Tom Riddle sat beside me, looking positively scared out of his wits and ready to bolt.  
  
I screamed.  
  
He started and fell over backwards in his chair. "Ack! Rushton! Gods, don't _do_ that! I swear, that's the second time you've screamed your head off at my presence! Am I really that ugly, Rushton?" He managed to cock an eyebrow in my direction and my eyes widened.  
  
I thought of the dark child, how her hair was black and her eyes were darker than midnight. I saw in Tom the same colors. I thought of the pale skin and long limbs, I saw how tall Tom was and how pale. I saw Tom in the child of night and nearly screamed again. No! No! No! It was NOT going to happen. Not to me! I have to defy the god's fate! I must!  
  
Tom smirked. "I guess I'm not that ugly if you're looking at me that way. Honestly, Rushton, you need to lay back and relax. You're going to get gray hairs if you keep stressing out about stuff."  
  
I did nothing, only nodded and breathed hard, trying to summon the bravery that was renowned in my old house. Nothing happened. My blue eyes widened again as his black ones searched my body. "Rushton," he said finally, eyes meeting mine again, "You have blood all over yourself. Needless to say, you need to take a bath. Madam Spedheal will take care of you, no doubt. I've got to get to class. By the way, who's Nymeria?"  
  
I stared at him. "I don't know," I lied, "Why?" The last question was simply for effect, to show I didn't know what he was talking about. He would probably tell me what I already knew: that it was a name I said in my dream and that now he was immensely afraid of me.  
  
Instead he surprised me. "No reason. I just liked the name. You said it in your sleep anyway." He shrugged, a very un-Dark Lord-like thing to do at the moment.  
  
I nodded and lay back down, feeling my stomach roiling and clenching again. Suddenly, it let a loud growl loose and I stared at it. "I guess I'm hungry then," I said and tried hard not to place a comment in there like, "Not that you helped much," or something.  
  
My mind still rebelled against Tom, I realized happily. "Oh," he said as if just realizing that he was hungry too, then he got out of his now-upright chair and walked away, "Bye, Rushton, I'll bring you homework and such."  
  
And no doubt love doing it, I thought grimly, trying to ignore the sound of another growl from my stomach. It didn't work. My stomach growled more loudly and I sat up quickly, displacing my feeling of the world spinning. "Alright, alright, I'm going to get you fed so shut up!" I nearly shouted.  
  
Suddenly, a large motherly looking woman, her hair bright gold and bound in a hair tie, appeared in my vision. She patted me on the head kindly and said, "I'll fetch you some food, darling." Then she disappeared, leaving me to just sit there, blinking and unable to register _what_ in the gods' names had just happened.  
  
Just as fast as she appeared and disappeared, she was there with a large bowl of soup in one hand and a few slices of bread in the other. She sat down in front of me, nearly tipping the bed and me over. "Here you go, sweetheart. Why don't you lie down against those pillows there so that your stomach doesn't rebel against the food? Don't want you vomiting all over my new sheets, now do I?" She smiled at my grimace and spooned a mess of soup from the bowl.  
  
She made the sound of a train as if I were five years old. "Alright now, open for the choo-choo!" I stared at her in dread as the spoon got closer and closer to my mouth.  
  
Oh gods. Tell me I was not going to stay in here long.  
  
Nonetheless I put up with it, opened my mouth obediently, and swallowed. The thick soupy taste exploded in my mouth like a firework and I continuously opened my mouth till every sip of the soup was gone. Still, my stomach growled and Madam Spedheal stared at me matronly. "My, my, my! You have an appetite of a wolf, you do!"  
  
My actions stopped, my breathing stopped, my eyes stopped in midblink. Madam Spedheal noticed none of it as she bustled about to get another bowl of soup. I saw a red wolf, jaws gaping with thousands of children locked between its large teeth. I saw crimson fur tinged with blood. I saw its large ruby eyes and felt the gush of blood between its teeth as it snapped down on the screaming children. I heard the screams cease suddenly and hands, fingers, toes, and white bones poured out of the wolf's mouth.  
  
I fainted and knew no more.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
Tom strolled down the hall, noting that it was time for lunch already. He made his way towards the Great Hall, acknowledging a few Slytherins but smiling only at one.  
  
Mina Silverglass, her green eyes twinkling at the sight of him, shivered at his smile and he felt a smirk join his features as he watched her. When she beckoned him with a curling finger, he walked over to her slowly as if a predator and wrapped an arm around her slender waist. "Hello, my dear. I didn't see you in class. What kept you? Did you have any . . . problems?" She looked at him in curiosity and he stiffened in her grasp. He knew what she meant. She was asking if he had met Rushton and decided to have a chat with her. If anything, Mina hated other women around Tom, and the already-taken Virginia Rushton was no different.  
  
Tom felt a stirring in his stomach as he looked at Mina. She brought his world to a new light. Made him see what he could, and would, become with the flick of his wand tip. She had shown him what the world was really like, what people were like. She made his stomach do flip-flops in him and his heart speed up.  
  
As if she could see his mind, she smiled seductively and lowered his head to hers for a slow, searing kiss that cut his mind and heart into two pieces and shattered them. Tom loved Mina. It wasn't that hard to see.  
  
Then why do you see Rushton in your mind whenever you kiss her? Part of his mind asked, why is it that when you touch Mina you think of Rushton and ache at the same time when Mina puts her lips on you?  
  
He thought of Rushton suddenly. He saw her flame red hair, her azure eyes that lighted with secret fire in anger, her slender build, fairy face, and red lips. He saw her parting those lips to emit something redder, more dangerous, than her mouth: blood, coating her, dipping into her, spreading across her body. He saw her vomiting blood as she crouched on the floor and poured it onto the cobblestones. He saw the tears, white and crystalline, plague the blood and cause it to turn bright pink. He saw a girl, just turning fifteen, with a nightmare in her eyes and going through the fastest form-change he's ever seen. Suddenly, he pitied her.  
  
True, he hadn't been very nice to her. She was, after all, new to the group. But then again, she'd probably seen her parents and siblings die if she'd known their names and what they did and how they acted. She was an orphan, like him, and a girl, which meant that she had fewer capabilities than he did.  
  
Or not, he thought as he remembered how well she fought back with words and fists. Continuously she kept running into him but each time she did, he nearly got the wind knocked out of him because of her forceful walk. It was almost as if she were in constant pain, as if her life was not really worth living or she was doing something she didn't want to but had to do, had to keep going through just so that she could prove that she wasn't useless. That girl was pushing herself to the edge, no matter the costs.  
  
Tom Marvolo Riddle decided he was going to help Virginia Rushton, no matter what either.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
*memory time!*  
  
The woman hadn't changed at all. Her face was a bit more worn and tearstained, but nothing new. Her hair was still long and redder than a sunset and her skin still untouched by time, but her eyes were a wounded blue, always looking into the distance for something that was never there.  
  
She was standing on a rock, the surface polished smooth with age and a deep black of charred stone. Beside her was a teenage girl, about sixteen or so, with the same long dark red hair that rose in waves down her back and the flaming azure eyes of youth. The girl was tiny, almost childish looking, with fairylike features and an ancient beauty unknown to anyone still living. Her dress was a sky blue, with a square neckline and sleeves that dipped down to join in a point at the floor's reach. Her skin was golden with hints of sparkle in it, as if the sun had kissed her with cream on its lips.  
  
"Nymeria," the woman said softly and her voice sounded hollow, as if it had faced too much to be strong again, "Adara rises from the North and takes what she can. The Lord Voldemort stays in the west and conquers whatever is in range of his eyesight. You, daughter, must stop them. You above all people know how. So many have tried and so many have failed. You have seen them all. Even . . . even Telemachus died and he didn't even come close though he was the strongest of us all."  
  
The girl, Nymeria, looked towards the sunset with tear-filled eyes and shook her head in despair. Her mouth worked, as if trying so very hard to form syllables, but nothing came and she was left with a moving tongue that never worked.  
  
The mother smiled grimly at her child and wrapped an arm around Nymeria's tiny waist before continuing. "You are not ready yet, I know. What with Alix and Harry, but time will grow with them and they are as we are. Do not fear for them. Though they are young, they will understand and I will always be here to take care of them. You need not worry, my dear. Alix and Harry . . . they have faced life well enough without a father and they will do well enough without a mother. So long as someone cares for them, they will love you and us all for being here in spirit, if not body and voice."  
  
Again, Nymeria shook her head, permitting a strand of blood-red hair to cross her lips and settle on her collarbone like a red noose.  
  
Nymeria's mother frowned, making a swift sign with her finger and thumb. "It is fate, daughter. One cannot escape their fate. I have tried and . . . . Well, we see how far that has gotten me. My fate was to marry your father and have my daughters, nothing more and nothing less. I left a sliver of goodness in his heart; you must leave it in his body. By finding the swords of Sun and Moon and defeating him fully, you can do such and render him mortal and beautiful again. If you find only one sword though, only part of the job will be done and if you die before finding the second sword then the job will fall to Harry and Alix and they will continue it in their line till its done and over with."  
  
Nymeria nodded, silently, a tear slithering down her face as she realized the truth in her mother's words. She thought of Harry and Alix, two babies lying in a crib with nothing to sustain them but a grandmother and mother's love and the food from a fading kitchen. Alix, her black curls thick even at her age with catlike blue eyes and golden skin, with powers untouched that could bring about an apocalypse. Harry, raven-wing haired with green eyes and the tannest skin anyone had seen though he had only been out once in his whole life, whose life was bound by the words of an unknown grandmother and a sullen, forgotten mother. And then there was Telemachus, Nymeria's eldest son, whose death at the hands of Lord Voldemort had sealed his siblings' fate. She could still remember him, playing, laughing, joking, eating, drinking, sleeping, reading aloud, talking to multitudes, showing her all the spells he'd learned, all the pranks he played and the good grades he got. Showing her how he could operate a sword, spear, gun, and wand better than any man alive. Watching him fall to the ground in a crumpled heap of bloody flesh.  
  
Oh yes, Alix and Harry's fates were decided by the death of their brother and father. By a maddened grandmother that came from nowhere. By a woman who had been mute since she was six years old because her twin was a snake in the grass who wanted no rivals.  
  
Their fate was decided. And so was hers.  
  
*end memory time*  
  
I woke up, sobbing, sweating, and gasping for air that wasn't there anymore. Slowly, my breath came back and I breathed normally but the tears ran silently down my cheeks. "I don't want that," I gasped, "I don't want that at all." I saw Nymeria's depressed face, so much like my own. I saw my black haired daughter, too much like Tom in all ways. I saw Alix and Harry, black hair tousled by an affectionate mother's hand though she couldn't tell them that she loved them. They knew it.  
  
My children. My descendents. All of them. All broken by Nymeria's twin, Adara, or by Tom.  
  
More tears arrived but no one came to me to dry them away. To kiss my cheek and rock me back to sleep while whispering a lullaby in my ears. No warmth of flesh came to hold me close and wish me a good night or tuck me in like my Mother used to when I was younger. No one came.  
  
I was alone.  
  
I thought that I heard a sound while I slept, but I was too lost in my tears to notice. I'd turned my back on the doorway so that no one could see my sallow face washed by salt water. No one should see my terror or shame. It would be too pitiful if they did and one thing I didn't want was pity.  
  
Suddenly a gust of wind burst through the room, opening a window that I thought had been locked. The cool wind tousled my hair roughly, as if making sure it was attached to my head, and brushed across my lips, wet from water, before curling around my neck and making me shiver. The cold was everywhere, with winter approaching fast. True, we had just gotten out of summer, but winter almost instantly followed at Hogwarts as if the school year just wanted to be done with it and rid itself of burdens to get more.  
  
As I reached down to pull up the covers and wrap myself more tightly in their thin layers, I felt something move against my back and felt very warm as if a fire had been lit immediately. I reached instead for the item against my body and felt fur, soft like down, ruffle my skin. Eagerly, I turned around, clasped it to me and felt a familiar tongue course its way over my face as if saying, "Hello, I missed you. But that's okay. We'll make up for it." I smiled against the direwolf cub's fur and kissed his black face, burying my nose in his fur and smelling the wolfness in him.  
  
"Hello," I whispered into his big floppy ear as he licked my face more, "My name is Ginny." The cub yawned, showing sharp baby teeth that gleamed white in the moonlight, before curling into a little ball in my arms, resting his head on my neck. "I'll name you tomorrow."  
  
I twisted my body so that my flesh encircled the cub, making him and me warmer by the moment as a smile lit my features. I had made a friend.  
  
I was no longer alone.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
River-Star: Yet another short chapter. I need a name for the cub so if anyone wants to help, just send a review and tell me what I should name the little cub. I was thinking of calling him Fenrir, since that was the name of a great wolf that was big and powerful and immortal. But you guys (and girls) should pick because I made this for you. Also, fluff anyone? Or same pace? Should there be another accidental kiss? Maybe Ginny will find what happened to her after the Hat terrorize her? What was she hearing? Is she going to hear it again? Will she ever find out what happened to her in the basement of Hogwarts by the snake emblem? What should happen next? 


	14. Time Untouched

River-Star: Well, needless to say, I was a bit surprised that people really cared about my chapters. The wolf's name is Fenrir. So, that's been decided. Many questions to answer, some that won't be answered till we really meet Nymeria. But will we? Should I do a sequel? Should I have Nymeria kill the evil Lord Voldemort, something that her mother has sworn their line will do? Hmm...I need to know. Should I make a sequel to this, telling of Nymeria's fate? You decide, I write.  
  
Thanks to:  
  
Miss Black5: hmm. . .That's gonna be hard seeing as how a bit of fluff in the matter of one chapter after they had a bit of an argument might be hard. I'll try.  
  
Lady Coia: Agreed about the name. Maybe she'll find out about one of the questions. No one knows. Not even me. I write what my heart and mind tells me to.  
  
Lily Rose Evans: okkie dokie, smokey! (oh gosh, I called one of my teachers that and he said, "Smokey. Well, I've been called many things before but never smokey.) I'll try harder!  
  
Ennui2: Well, so many questions. Um. . .the chamber is going to have to be opened in the middle of the year because the book says that Myrtle was killed sometime before July. So that would mean that it would have to happen maybe in February or something. Someone will visit Ginny in the hospital. But someone that no one expects to visit her. Surprise! Surprise!  
  
Wizzabee: And I shall find a way, trust me, or else you can call me Spunky McPeanutbutter! Or maybe Whisker Mc Squeakers or something stupid. I had a mouse named Whisker McSqueakers. He bit me so I accidentally jumped and slipped from my hand and broke his neck and died. So now I have this little tombstone in the back of my yard that says, "Goodbye, Faithful Mouse and Friend, our dear Whisker McSqueakers." I cried, I screaming, I laughed. Okay, maybe none but that's okay.  
  
Deatheater4life: Yea! I like being unpredictable! Its fun. I like being random too. Like one time I just met this new person and I didn't know how to break the ice and start a conversation with her so I unleashed my hair from my hair tie, aimed it at the ceiling and shot it and said, "Oops, I killed the pastor's cat." She and I have been friends ever since.  
  
Lady Keladry 1: First of all, okkie dokie. Second of all: Glad you have so much confidence in me, friend. It's almost interesting really.  
  
Evil pixie of Satan: yes, well, the direwolf cub will have to grow up sometime and lose its cuteness. This chapter just very well change your prospective about him too. I'll try to put some fluff in. Maybe she'll solve one of the mysteries today!  
  
Angelike Riddle: well, this chapter might show you some happy parts of Nymeria and Ginny's life.  
  
Marilda: Action and adventure are the best types but I like romance more. ^_^  
  
Chapter Fourteen (past the unlucky number! Yes!)  
  
The next morning I woke to a whimper and wet squishy thing pressed across my mouth, nose, cheeks, and forehead. "Gods, would you stop already? I'm up! I'm up!" I wiped my face off and turned over on my side, not opening my eyes once.  
  
Apparently my new friend had other plans.  
  
With a loud growl for one so small, the cub leaped on my chest (really painful, by the way) and grabbed a mouthful of hair in its jaws. Stepping back a few steps, he yanked and I felt a few of my flaming hairs be ripped from my head. "Ah!" I yelped and grabbed the pup back, staring at it with angry blue eyes. "First of all, pup, I'm bigger and stronger than you, don't mess with me!" I growled back at it when it tried that tactic and reluctantly the cub released my hair, allowing it to shimmer its way back to me. I watched as my friend held on to one last hair and yanked it from my head, as I bit back a curse. "Your new name is Fenrir," I muttered grimly, "Live up to it."  
  
Fenrir was a wolf in Norse mythology who was the child of a giant and the god of mischief, Loki. He was so bad that the gods had to chain him using a rope made from fish hair, kitten's breath, and a rainbow's tear. But Fenrir had a trace of his father in him and when the gods attempted to chain Fenrir on a lonely island, he told them that he wouldn't do it unless a god's hand was in his mouth. One of the gods stepped up and put his hand in Fenrir's mouth. When the rope was tied on tightly, Fenrir bit down and ate the god's hand so that the god would walk around forever with the mark of Fenrir.  
  
In a way, I felt like that god. Not only because a few hairs off my head were missing (and thankfully not my hand) but also because I had to keep my Fenrir from getting into trouble by tethering him to me. It was said that in Hogwarts you weren't really allowed to have animals. Only cats, frogs, and bats really. But surely they would make an exception for Fenrir? I mean, he was a pup and needed taking care of. I would lather him with affection and care but I couldn't be there all the time since I had classes and things to deal with (*cough* Riddle *cough*) so I couldn't be with him twenty-four/seven.  
  
Dratted Monkeys of Ra.  
  
The pup had somehow managed to jump down and was now making his way across the floor, which was now covered in bright leaves colored red, yellow, green, and some were dark purple with rot. He climbed through them, noticing that they came from the open window that shone like water in the sun. Then he whimpered and started to sit down.  
  
"NO!" I shouted and gripped him with two hands, ignoring the dizzy feeling that burst into my head as I did so. Everything spun as I ran out the door and into a courtyard and dropped Fenrir unceremoniously on the ground to do his business. "Fenrir," I said carefully when he'd finished. He sat down, yawned, and looked up at me with those artic eyes that I loved so much. "You go to the bathroom _outside_ not inside. Now come on, the world is spinning and I don't think that's a good thing."  
  
Fenrir's tongue lolled out of his mouth as he looked at me, then tried to howl. Instead what came out was a squeaky note that died to quickly to be anything but a bark. He snorted as if it didn't meet standards and stood up to paw my nightgown. Apparently someone had changed me when I passed out, I thought, and picked Fenrir up to go back inside. My wolf cub licked my arm energetically and then stopped suddenly, as if thinking about something.  
  
'Mommy, can we go play?'  
  
I jumped and looked around. No one was there.  
  
'Mommy? Did you hear me?'  
  
Again the voice, high pitched and sounding very much like a boy's, startled me as I turned around, clutching Fenrir tightly.  
  
'MOMMY!'  
  
"Who's there?" I said quietly and moved into the shadows so if the child (though I highly doubted there were any children at Hogwarts) decided to do any sort of mischief, it couldn't try it on me. "Show yourself."  
  
'You're silly, Mommy,' the high pitched voice said, 'Can we go play now, my paws ache for the ground!' I looked down, stared at Fenrir's inquisitive eyes and nearly screamed.  
  
Oh my gods! A wolf was talking to me! AHHH!  
  
"How can you talk?" I asked Fenrir, voice no longer coated with sugar and honey but instead with demanding and suspicion.  
  
'Well, um, the question is more like: how can you hear me? I mean, the only ones to hear wolves and other animals for so long was just a certain type of. . . Ah, shucks, I can't tell you. I'll get in trouble if I do, Mommy.' Fenrir pressed his tongue to my chin and began to lick my face happily. 'Can we go play, Mommy?'  
  
"Err, Mommy's tired right now and I need to get back to the hospital wing so you can cuddle with Mommy for awhile. Okay?" I quietly explained. Fenrir, once cute and innocent, no longer looked as stupid. Instead, his calm, adorable face had changed to one of wisdom and knowledge of all things.  
  
'Okay.' Fenrir curled up in my arms, pressing his nose to my chest and began to snore softly.  
  
I gave a soft smile in his direction and headed back to the hospital wing, ignoring the fact that my feet were freezing and my breath was coming in short puffs of air that bridged on the idea of frost. My skin was laced with blue veins as the cold entered my pores and seeped into my blood. The only source of warmth was Fenrir and he was drawing off of me as well.  
  
I climbed onto my hospital bed, noticing, finally, that the world had stopped spinning. My breath came longer, peacefuller, and much more filling in the lungs than any other source of air. My red hair collided with the pillow as I sank into it and my eyes fluttered closed to a dream sleep.  
  
*dream time!*  
  
The little girl, once younger than she was, had grown up. Now, with her face a blistering fifteen, and her body lithe and slender like a young sapling, she resembled a fire nymph, with blood red hair and golden skin that glistened under the sun's kiss.  
  
She lay horizontally in a large leather chair; a book lay underneath her cerulean gaze as she read so that the blue looked like a searing laser beam. She was wearing a regular dress that reminded anyone who saw it of fire, the sleeves fanned out a bit at her wrists and the dress only went to her ankles, where it fanned out delicately. It was not too dressy or anything. It was casual really, something she could run and play in without having to worry about it getting mussed up by mud and people.  
  
The book itself was less interesting. The binding was in tatters and the cover falling apart. The pages were yellowed by age and ripped in tiny places along the edges. Across the front the words, "The Iliad and the Odyssey" could be seen with a little difficulty because the letters were a bit faded. But anyone watching the girl could tell she loved the book with all her heart and read it constantly.  
  
The girl looked up from her book and stared at an invader. The boy was a year older than her with black hair and green eyes. His shirt was a striped black and white one that stretched against his chest and well- defined arm muscles. The boy hesitated when the girl saw him but then continued his advance. "Hello, Nymeria," he said carefully, as if speaking to a frightened animal.  
  
Nymeria gazed at him still with her blue eyes and refused to show her emotions, but her muscles were tense and he could tell she would flee if necessary. So, he tried a way to get her into a conversation. "What book are you reading?" He asked and motioned towards the remnants of Greek lettering in her hands. Apparently, she was fluent in the ancient languages.  
  
She showed the cover as if it were a shield and watched him still as if he were some sort of predator.  
  
The boy cursed himself for his stupidity. He had forgotten she was mute! "I didn't know you could read Greek," he declared idiotically. Since the whole book of the Iliad was in Greek and the rest in Latin, he couldn't ask to read over her shoulder or anything so that he could get closer.  
  
Nymeria nodded, finally relaxing and letting her eyes unleash him from her perpetual stare. Her eyes roved over the page she was reading until she turned it, and then she started to read the next one, unaware that he was getting closer to her. When she looked up again she was surprised to see him right by her, kneeling on the ground and pressing his hand on the chair arm for balance as he tried to make out the Greek.  
  
She smiled suddenly, loosing up in front of him for the first time and pulled a sheet of paper out of midair as well as a quill. He observed her writing something on the paper and when she was finished he found out she had written out the whole Greek alphabet for him. But even as he read aloud, using the translation sheet, he couldn't understand it because it was in Greek. Gathering up her courage, she shut her eyes, put two tiny, slender fingers on his lower lip and concentrated.  
  
Soon the words in front of him made sense and he read along side of her, having fun and understanding Greek for the first time.  
  
*New dream*  
  
Alix twirled the two swords in front of her, training striking her every movement as she came closer to her target. It moved but she struck true, causing it to hiss in pain. For a moment, her green eyes flashed and she uttered choice words, "Luna Regna!" The silver sword with runes inscribed on it twirled into a dancing ray of light as she sunk it into her target's body. "Helio Regno!" she screamed and pressed the golden sword through her enemy's belly as it exploded out the other end of him and his blood and insides were sent flying. An inside part flew at her and landed on her black hair and she pressed away the idea of flinching as parts of scalp, flesh, bone, and muscle all flew at her and sunk into her clothing, dying her a dark red. "Victoria!" she cried, pulling out the two swords simultaneously and pushed them up to scar the sky. A golden beam and a silver emerged from the swords and burst into the sky. White and yellow rain poured out of the clouds above and washed away all the death from Alix's body. At her side, a white lioness roared with joy and pushed her muzzle into Alix's hip.  
  
The battle was over.  
  
The enemy was dead.  
  
*end dreams*  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
Lorna had decided to make life a living hell for Tom that day, he decided. First, she wouldn't shut up. Then she was too quiet which was just plain wrong. And now she couldn't stop staring at Mina.  
  
Juniper herself wasn't in great shape either. Every word that Mina said was like a dagger to her heart and she kept flinching whenever Mina looked her way. Not only that, but Mina couldn't stop complaining.  
  
"And I swear," she pressed in a now-emerging French accent, "That Rushton girl shouldn't look that strange. I mean, she looks like some strange creature from a book. It's just not right."  
  
Juniper flinched again at the blow towards her friend and then gathered up her courage. "Oh, you mean she looks strange because she doesn't try to look like a Barbie doll?" she growled at Mina.  
  
The black haired girl opened her mouth, narrowed her eyes and glared at Juniper with sudden hatred.  
  
Juniper glared back with icy cerulean eyes and said, "Shut your mouth. You're starting to look like a dead fish." Then the white-haired girl turned back to her food and delicately picked at a piece of meat before digging into a salad.  
  
Jack, whose mouth was totally full, shouted, "Does anyone know where Ginny is anyway?" causing bits of meat, potato, and pasta to fly everywhere. A piece of spaghetti landed in Juniper's salad. She stared at it a moment in dismay and pushed away the bowl. Jack, however, reached a tan hand towards it, plucked it out, and stuffed it back in his mouth, not caring about the salad sauce that it had acquired.  
  
Juniper stared at him in disgust before reaching back for her salad and taking a huge big. A loud crunch was heard as Tom looked from Luca to Juniper back to Luca. Luca seemed to have trouble concentrating with Juniper around.  
  
The white haired beauty, Tom decided, had acquired yet another admirer, and this one might just not let her down. Luca stared wistfully a Juniper for another two minutes before facing Tom again and saying, "Yes, where is Ginny?"  
  
"Rushton is in the hospital, where she slept last night and is sleeping now as we dine," he said quietly, just loud enough to reach Juniper, Jack, and Luca's ears only. The albino girl smiled gently and pressed her fork to her mouth, the fork laden with fresh greens and sauce. Jack nodded, seemed content, then asked, "Why is she there?"  
  
Tom sent him a long look that said: Wait till we leave here, and then meet me in the place so I can tell you.  
  
Jack, Luca, and Juniper nodded. Lorna, however, missed the whole action and said, "So, where's Ginny?" The boys groaned at her stupidity and Juniper smacked herself on the head.  
  
Mina frowned when Juniper did such a thing. "You know," she said, "That hurts and we don't want you losing any more brain cells, dear." She grinned evilly at the girl, who rolled her eyes and resumed grazing on leaves and tomatoes and a light orange sauce.  
  
Tom rolled his eyes as well. For the past two nights, Mina had tried to get him to sleep with her. It was really annoying because something people didn't suspect was that Tom was saving himself for marriage. It really seemed stupid to waste yourself on someone that wasn't going to be spending the rest of your life with you anyhow, he thought, so what's the point. Mina was also getting to be very annoying. Her comments about Rushton seemed to be getting more and more jealous and ruthless and stupid. In all honestly, Tom didn't know why he had liked her in the first place.  
  
Maybe he'd become single again.  
  
Just maybe.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
*begin dream sequence*  
  
Nymeria tucked a blood red curl behind her strangely shaped ear, reading the Odyssey yet again. She was at the part where Circe turns all of Odysseus' men into animals (pigs, actually) and a messenger warns Odysseus of a sorceress that lives on the island.  
  
Suddenly, she felt a calm, soothing presence steal over her and she froze. Someone was in the room with her. Someone she knew. Someone that Adara knew. Someone dangerous.  
  
Her eyes flew up without warning and caught yet another boy advancing towards her. At his presence, she instantly let loose a breath she had been holding in. She nodded in his direction and continued to read.  
  
"Honestly, Nym, you're always reading that book. Don't you read anything else?" The boy rolled silver eyes heavenward and brushed back a wayward piece of white-blonde hair, trying not to get flustered. For years he had been admiring Nymeria from afar, and up close, without her noticing. His brotherly feelings had gone into something deeper and now he loved her.  
  
She nodded and tilted her head towards a pile of books on the other end of her room, silent because of her "illness." Draco longed to here her voice. To know how it might have sounded now. He had heard it plenty of times when they were growing up but when she had turned six, Adara had cursed her by forcing her to be a mute, and she had never found a way to cure the "illness." He hated Adara now, where once he adored her (A/N: ha ha! Adara means adore so ha ha, he adores her. . .okay, I'll shut up now) but everything had changed when Nymeria had run away, traveled forest and lake and sea at the tender age of nine to find out how to communicate without using words. A new language had been formed then. One of the mind. One that only he and Nymeria could truly possess.  
  
'Nym,' he said gently, trailing his voice across her mind like a lover's caress, 'Talk to me. Talk to me with your mind. I want to hear you again, please. I need you now.'  
  
Nymeria frowned and stood up, her shining red hair falling across her back to form a river of blood curls to her feet. 'Draco, my dragon-friend, what is the matter?' her tone, so melodic and sweet to him, was deeply accented with concern and affection. He nearly melted there in front of her. 'Nothing bothers you easily these days so something must be bothering you enough to come to me.'  
  
He sighed and grabbed her, pulling her towards his chest in an embrace. Nym smiled against his chest. She loved him, true. Like some soul mate or something that she had read about in some book long ago. Greek or Roman, she thought and frowned. Not Roman. The Romans didn't have any good words for love and they weren't very creative. They stole everything: gods, poetry, vocabulary, love, creativity. Half the things the Romans had thought of were conceived in a Greek mind. So, she decided, it was Greek that she read it in. 'I'll always come to you, Nym. You're the only one I do come to when I have a problem,' he answered and she rested her head against his strong chest in complete trust.  
  
'I'm glad you do, Draco. You're father and mother never listen because they are always caught up in Voldemort's latest schemes and you are left behind. You'd think that your mother would listen but she never does because she wants to gain your father's approval. Guess that leaves me, yes?' She answered, a wry tone entering her song voice.  
  
'Yes, it does, Nym. And I'm glad it does.' Suddenly, unexpected to her, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She gasped, having never been kissed before, and found herself unable to respond out of shock. A feeling of warmth and the taste of honey flooded her mouth as he kept it on first base level, not going any further than a regular kiss. (Yes, people, that means a regular kiss, not a French one) She suddenly wanted to pull away, because this was not meant for her, but instead found herself wanting to stay and keep going. His arms wrapped around her waist in a gentle way, not demanding at all, and she entwined her arms around his neck, curled her hands into a knot at the base of his neck. He pressed one hand into her hair, twirled his fingers between each lock so that she felt a tickling feeling in her scalp, where hair met flesh.  
  
Then she pulled away, looked at Draco, and ran, forgetting the Iliad and Odyssey.  
  
*end dream*  
  
*begin dream*  
  
The child was named Telemachus. The name was one that Odysseus had called his son and it meant "Final Battle." Nymeria hoped it would be. She wanted revenge. The man who had killed her first husband was connected to her and she burned with hatred towards him now.  
  
Looking at her newborn, a patch of fuzzy silver hair at his crown and gray eyes that looked solemnly back at her, she kissed his head. 'You will be brave and strong, Telemachus. You will end this war for the future.' She kissed his cheeks and eyelids again as her child fell asleep.  
  
She was sure of what she said.  
  
*end dream*  
  
*begin dream*  
  
Nymeria rested her hand against the stone, feeling the cold hardness of it and wishing that instead it was warm flesh. Her first husband was dead and no one could bring him back to life. She closed her eyes, feeling the wind, cold and rough, catch the curls of her hair and blow them backwards. She heard not a sound.  
  
A cracking of leaves sounded behind her and she whirled, nearly attacking. Instead she saw the same boy, now a man, who had read Greek with her. His black hair was more messy now and his eyes a more emerald. Even his glasses were gone, replaced by contacts. He walked towards her, slipping a hand to her cheek and touching her cold skin. "You are so cold, Nym. How did you get so cold?" he asked.  
  
Instead of answering, she rushed into his arms, nearly knocking him over. He held her tightly, raining kisses on her hair and cheeks. "I'm here, Nymeria, I'm here. There's no need to worry. I'll never leave you." He finally placed a solemn kiss on her lips and she kissed back.  
  
*end dream*  
  
I woke up, gasping and sweating, feeling all the mix of feelings that Nymeria had felt: anger, frustration, love, coldness, warmth, affection, hate. Too many feelings, I thought. That girl has problems if she has enough time to have that many feelings.  
  
I felt a warm piece of flesh drift across my hand and clenched it tightly. Juniper had to bite back a gasp of pain as my hand grabbed hers and squeezed so tightly that even my hand hurt after it.  
  
"Ginny," she gasped in pain, "Let go, it was just a dream. Just, be calm, let go now. Gently, dear, gently. You'll hurt me otherwise." Her voice was still peaceful in a nice way and I did as she asked, blinking my blue eyes at her and her companions. Jack, Lorna, Luca, Richard, and Tom (of all people) were there, staring at me in morbid fascination. I felt like an animal on display, as if I were some different species being tested.  
  
"You killed him," I murmured, looking directly at Tom, "You killed Telemachus and Nymeria and Draco and Harry. You killed them all. And I. . .I died sometime." My brow furrowed and for a moment I had a sudden insight, "I died of madness. I killed myself because of you." My gaze turned to the ceiling and I started to cry, slowly like everything was stuck in slow motion, before I closed my eyes as if they were laden with ice.  
  
"No, Ginny, no," Juniper shook me and my eyes snapped open again, "You are not to think that way. Its only the third day of school and you already have problems. You can't be this way all the time, Gin. No one wants you like this. You have to get back at Mina. And. . . and Myrtle still wants to see you and laugh again. She's so lonely without you."  
  
The tears came faster at Myrtle's name. I knew she would die. She had in my day been a ghost. What was to stop Tom from killing her now? I can stop him, I thought and the tears stopped abruptly as if someone had turned off a faucet. I stared at Tom. "You won't hurt them. I won't let you. You're not going to influence Adara or murder Nymeria. You aren't going to hurt them at all. I'll fix it."  
  
His eyes narrowed at me, as if he were puzzling my words before he stepped closer and put two fingertips on my eyelids, shutting them. "Go to sleep, Rushton. Go to sleep and dream some more. I'll visit later with Juniper and the rest of us."  
  
I grabbed his fingers and pushed them away angrily. "No, I want to leave here now. I need to leave here. You don't understand."  
  
Suddenly I sat up and pulled myself out of bed, standing in front of my friends' ancestors without a second thought in a pale nightgown. The world spinned again and the faint taste of blood filled my mouth. I didn't open it though; for fear that they might scream and run away from me, leaving me to die from throwing up my own blood. Instead, I raised my chin up and stared down my nose at them all, despite my height. "You don't understand. You never will. I might never understand, but I know what will happen and you are too stupid to listen to me."  
  
Lorna stepped forth, her eyes glistening at my state and she grabbed my warm hands, "Only because you aren't making sense, Ginny. We will understand. You have to let us understand. We're your friends, Ginny, not your enemies. Please, try to understand."  
  
I laughed, hollowly and without mirth. Lorna stepped back, her fear evident, and the rest of them, except Tom, followed suit. Then Juniper stepped forth and pulled me to her in a tight hug. "It's okay, Ginny. We won't let anything bad happen to Nymeria or Adara. If it's a part of you than it's a part of us. Please try to remember that."  
  
Then her eyes changed and instead of a lush cerulean, they looked purple and frigid. "Though you may not be able to change it, we will try and in trying we may fail. Remember that divided you cannot stand but together we will weather the storm." Then she looked back at me, regular Juniper again, and smiled tenderly.  
  
"We'll leave now, you need to rest anyway. You lost too much blood and, no doubt, when Madam Healsped gives you that potion you'll be wishing you'd gotten more rest," Tom said ruthlessly, his smirk growing wider.  
  
I sank back into the bed, my breathing becoming more and more slow and peaceful before I touched the pillow.  
  
River-Star: Okay, chapter fourteen is done. But the mysterious visitor has not yet appeared and several questions need to be answered. Which question shall I answer next? REVIEW EVERYONE! 


	15. Whoa there little doggies!

River-Star: Wow, thanks so much, you guys! (and girls, sorry!) I really appreciate all the reviews I'm getting for Twist of Fate. This is awesome! So, thanks to:  
  
Meg of Queenscove: Tom is not going to be good at the end of the story since he _is_ going to be the death of Myrtle and three more students. (three students didn't actually die in the books, but I'm going to have it be so) He does seem to get less sinster as time goes on, but as it progresses he has these bad "headaches" where he has to leave class during a lesson. He'll also develop a very bad temper and at one point will lose control with Ginny and hurt her very badly.  
  
Silver=blue sapphire: I love Greek Myth! I've studied it since I was eight years old (read for pleasure too!) and then studied (read) Egypt, Norse, Irish, Welsh, Hindu, and African mythology. My favorite myth is the one about Psyche and Eros or the one with Odysseus and Penelope. My favorite Egyptian myth is the story of Sekhmet (woman with lioness head and she likes violence and nearly destroyed all of Egypt till Ra got her drunk with barley beer that was dyed red to look like blood and changed her into Hathor. *takes deep breath*) and my favorite Irish myth is the one of Cuchalain (explain more later if you want me too) I know almost all of them.  
  
Aquarius-sl: Hey! I'm an Aquarius! (okay, off subject) Anyway, Nymeria is the mother of Telemachus (whose father is Draco) and Alix and Harry (whose father are Harry Potter) Ginny is the mother of Nymeria and Adara (future Dark Queen of most of Northern Europe)  
  
Taylor: Yeah, I hate it when people but bad words in their fic. I mean, I can't imagine Ginny cursing unless something really really really bad happened to her or something. Are you almost done drawing Nymeria? When you are, could you send it to me? Thanks!  
  
Satern Mya: I hope it gets better! This is the chapter when the secret visitor comes! *freaky music plays in backround* The secret visitor is. . . *tomato strikes River-Star in back of head* Drat it! I've got to talk to whoever throws these things! I mean, honestly, think of the vegetable's feelings! *storms off*  
  
Angelike Riddle: Yeah, I thought of putting more of a reaction in it then decided not to.  
  
Lady Coia: Ginny is mother to Adara and Nymeria, Nymeria is mother to Alix and Harry and Telemachus. Telemachus was the "golden child" of Nymeria and Draco. Alix and Harry are the "dark children" of Nymeria and Harry Potter.  
  
Evil pixie of satan: NOOO! Not sappy romance novels! I HATE THOSE! AGHH!!!! Run away! Run away! *images of Monty Python: Holy Grail comes to mind* Hey, I love that movie.  
  
Ennui2: And in this chapter we will see _why_ Fenrir can talk to Ginny.  
  
I luv padfoot: Ha! Try taking Latin and Geometry and Physics in a year. And they say I'm ambitious!  
  
IMPORTANT: this is the chapter where the mysterous visitor comes and we understand why Ginny can talk to Fenrir. A character will also become important and more questions will arise in this chapter. Beware!  
  
Chapter Fifteen  
  
The sunlight shone through my eyelids the next morning. Madam Healsped had fed me precisely three potions to renew my blood and it didn't work. Last time I had puked three times, to match the potions, because they upset my stomach. When Madam Healsped tried to inject the stuff in me (Gods, NO!) I had feigned sleep.  
  
One thing to understand about me is that when people fed me potions and medical help, I get tired. It wasn't surprising, therefore, when I fell asleep in the middle of pretending to be asleep as soon as Madam Healsped said that I had a visitor.  
  
I didn't even get a glance of who it was.  
  
Another to understand, that today it wasn't Fenrir's whining that woke me. Nor was it the sunlight. It was the smells that came with the cool morning breeze that woke me up. The smell of parchment, old and young, swirling while mixed in with roses and sunflowers. The fact that hot cake was involved didn't have anything to do with my eyes snapping open either.  
  
When I looked up, eyes pleading for food, I saw an old woman, her hands wrinkled and frame so frail I thought she would break. Her bifocals were on the very tip of her nose and teetering as if preparing to jump into my lap. Pale blue eyes, like frost on a pond in spring, leaped out at me. "Hello, Ginny," Mrs. Hyacinth's creaky voice rang true as always and embraced me.  
  
I lunged forward, pressing her in a soft hug. "My, my, my," she whispered, "You are so happy to see me, aren't you? Any reason, dear." She flexed, nearly groaning when her back cracked in several places as she leaned back in her chair that Madam Healsped had given her. It was a leather chair, puffed up with fluffy pink pillows and a large afghan the color of new honey.  
  
"No," I said in a rush, "I've just been really sick. I was exploring the halls when I started throwing up blood. It was horrible. And. . ." I stopped but her eyes were on me and before I knew it, I said, "And this red wolf was there, eating children and blood was frothing out of its mouth. I was so scared, Mrs. Hyacinth."  
  
"Oh dear," she cried out and held me to her, nearly yanking me out of the bed and onto her lap. I was surprised she was that strong. But then, her two children were aurors and she was a librarian (good eyes, good backs, nimble fingers) and it wasn't surprising then. "I hope this makes you feel better!" she let go and leaned over to the side of the chair's arm to ripple her fingers, so knotty and wrinkly, through a woolen bag the size of her shirt. She pulled out two ancient books, bindings falling apart and letters nearly gone. "You were looking at them in my shop, hon, so this is your birthday present from me. Dragons and magic," she said in her old voice and smiled at me so kindly I nearly cried. She handed the books to me. "Not that you'll need them, sweet, but I thought you'd like your own copy instead of having to keep getting them from the library here."  
  
I scanned the covers, seeing the same font as I had four days ago. "Magic's Many Forms" and "Dragons and Their Habitats- All you Need to Know and More" sprung out into my blue eyes. "Thank you, Mrs. Hyacinth, thank you so much." At least these would get me through the days of injections and such, I thought.  
  
At that moment, Fenrir popped from behind my pillow, where he had been hiding from Madam Healsped all day. "Mommy, teach me to read." He squalled.  
  
I glared at him and looked over my shoulder at him while saying, "Fenrir, that will come when you learn to fly, darling." I turned my gaze back to "Magic's Many Forms" not seeing the wide-eyed glance that Mrs. Hyacinth gave me.  
  
"Oh my good goddess!" she said slowly, then snapped my head to face her so quick I heard it pop. "You can talk to animals! You're . . . You're a . . . a . . . a-"  
  
"A what?" I nearly screamed.  
  
"You're a Wild Mage!" She shouted. At that same moment, Professor Dumbledore came in, auburn hair swirling around his head and his wizard's hat peaked in top condition.  
  
His eyes were at their familiar twinkle. "Who's a Wild Mage, Rose?" He asked. When Mrs. Hyacinth faced him, shocked, he said, "I'm here to ask Miss Rushton some questions." She nodded and Dumbledore continued. "I would still like to know who is a Wild Mage as it concerns our school profusely."  
  
Mrs. Hyacinth blushed, proof that she was not as old as looks gave. "Fine, fine. Ginny here is a Wild Mage, Albus! It's amazing! I never thought that there'd be another as foolish as me, but there is!"  
  
Dumbledore's face grew grave and solemn. "Rose, since she is one, change to your normal self. She ought to know now then never."  
  
Mrs. Hyacinth nodded and suddenly the air around her filled with electricity. Tension crawled along my skin so slowly that goose bumps settled along my arms and the hairs stood on end. Shivers coursed through my body as I felt the electricity break and Mrs. Hyacinth the crone changed.  
  
Her body, frail and bent, became straight and tightly sewn with vivacious curves added here and there as if a little side note. Hair, once gray and white, became long auburn curls that flounced once and awhile, gaining their confidence. Her fingers filled out, became slender and still nimble, not knotted and wrinkly. Her skin smoothed out to a golden tan that flexed over her whole body in revelation. Pale blue eyes like a frosted pond grew bluer and wider till they resembled a blue star exploding in space. She stood up, proving that she was taller than Dumbledore and just as tall as the top windowsill.  
  
The first thing she did was glare at Dumbledore. He rolled his blue eyes. "Honestly, Rose, don't act as if it is the most fascinating thing in a century. The child would have found out in time, anyway, what with you near immortal and all." He glared back.  
  
Rose's eyes dropped first.  
  
She faced me then. "Ginny!" she cried out, "I can't believe you're one of us!" Her voice was less creaky and just a long purr, all content and pretty. "There are only twelve of us. There's Yalena, Sheba, Isaac, Ivan, Jacob, Faraday, Liran, Gronan, Lyra, Sesara, Mara, Stanton, and me. You'll be the thirteenth. Dumbledore figured it out in only his first year. He thought it was strange how Faraday was looked so pretty, but her voice was old. He then found out about the Three Types of Magic and then he knew."  
  
My head hurt suddenly. "Wha. . .What?" I asked, touching my forehead gingerly and trying to make sense of it all. "Who are us? What are you talking about? How do you know all this? Who's Faraday? How come Dumbledore found out by just her voice? Why didn't you just show yourself to me?"  
  
My questions poured out like water coming out of a filled-to-the-brim bowl that was enduring heavy rainfall. Rose laughed, eyes twinkling like Dumbledore's for a moment. "Oh my gods." I said suddenly, "You're related!" My shock was so great that I fell off the bed and landed with a heavy thump to the floor. "Holy monkeys!" I cried, trying to keep my cool.  
  
Rose laughed again, flipping an auburn curl behind her ear carelessly as if she knew she was beautiful and reveled in it. "Well, of course we are. Albus is older than I am, though. He's not a Wild Mage, even though most in our line are. Mostly woman are Wild Mages though. Men just don't have the touch. Anyway, 'us' is the Wild Mages. Faraday is the vainest of us, and rightly so! Hasn't aged a day even though she's about. . ." she paused to think, "about five thousand years old. Her name used to be Helen but that was a bit to obvious and she tended to span the original story so we decided to change it before people realized that the Helen that destroyed a city by cheating on her husband was the selfsame Helen that helped wounded animals. And Albus found out because when we change, our voices don't. We have to spend extra time trying to perfect that. Faraday was too vain to change her voice because it's so pretty, so when she changed into a five year old to feign as the illegitimate daughter of one of the professors, Albus knew something was up because no five year old would sound that seductive. So he figured it out, then found out I was one too about nine years later."  
  
My mouth was open and attracting flies.  
  
The woman lifted a golden hand and dipped up my chin. "Oh please, hon, don't flatter me. Just read the book about Magic that I gave you. It tells you everything. And meet us in the Forbidden Forest on Saturday at midnight. Everyone tells us it's haunted but none of the creatures ever injured us. Especially Faraday. They _never_ want to injure her." Rose rolled her twinkling eyes and smiled at me, winking.  
  
Albus clucked his tongue good-naturedly, "Now, Rose, I think you'd best go before one of the students notices you and figures it out as well." He sat down in the vacant chair and laid his hands out along the arms till the fingertips grazed the edge.  
  
Rose rolled her eyes again and whined, "Aww, fine." There was a sudden tension in the air as electricity popped and there stood Mrs. Hyacinth, frail and bent, her honey colored afghan across her shoulders and woolen bag in her hand.  
  
She left in another pop, her apparition sounding loudly. I gasped, "But we can't Apparate on and off the grounds!"  
  
Dumbledore frowned at me. "Yes, we can. Are you alright dear? Maybe you threw up too much blood?"  
  
I shook my head. "Sorry, but I thought I read somewhere that we can't Apparate or Disapparate on the grounds." I shook my head again, and faced him, "You have questions for me, sir?" I asked.  
  
He nodded, face grave again. "Yes, I do, Miss Rushton. How old are you?"  
  
I frowned back. "Fifteen as of yesterday, sir."  
  
"Lovely. When did you find out you had magic, Miss Rushton?"  
  
"Well, since I'm an orphan I had to figure it out on my own. Ma was alive though, when I figured it out. I'm a pureblood, sir, but we were living in the Muggle World to escape Gundebald's terror strike. I had six brothers too but they never let in that I was a witch. They didn't want a little girl saying she was a witch. It might cause a stir. So when they all died I figured it out because I could do something that the other orphans couldn't. I thought it might be something magical."  
  
"Who were your friends at your orphanage? What is it called?"  
  
"Oh," I frowned. Obviously I hadn't thought this far. "I think there was. . ." I thought long and hard before settling on a name, "Well, there were Nymeria and Adara. And Telemachus and Harry and Alix."  
  
"Alix is a boy?"  
  
"No, girl. She's very pretty. Well, she was. Someone took her away. Said she was going to live with them. Nymeria went next, then Adara, then Harry and Telemachus. Harry and Alix were twins but no one ever really cared when it came time to take her away. More profit to give away the twins separately."  
  
"Back to my question, Miss Rushton. What was your orphanage called?"  
  
"St. Briar's Orphanage."  
  
"I see. And who was the head master there? Did they give out lessons?"  
  
"Yes, they did. They taught us to read, write, do sums and math, some algebra when we were old enough as well as geometry. They did English and Ancient History and Latin. The headmaster was Mr. Deiaman"  
  
"So, you can speak Latin. Can you tell me what this means?" He popped a parchment into his hand and held it in front of me. I read the Ancient script. First in Vulgate Latin, then in Classical, then in English.  
  
"It says, 'Touch the heart, leave barren the soul. One shall come to claim them both. Neither one nor the other. Creature or human, take your pick, she can be both in a wink. When rose does bloom, when mountains crumble and valleys fill with moisture. When the sun and moon are joined, grandchild of immortality shall come and fulfill.' What is that, sir?"  
  
He smiled, "I am the one asking the questions. I believe, Miss Rushton, that it is a prophecy that the seer from Delphi, who sought refuge there after Troy's demise, said that before she died. A last moment of seeing, they say. 'Carpe Diem' comes too mind when someone told me that. No better time to start then death, I say. Are you fluent in languages, Miss Rushton?"  
  
"Well, that depends on your definition of fluent. If we are talking the dictionary form,* no. If we're talking common form, yes. I know many of them. Many children came to our orphanages, French children in particular. I learned fast."  
  
"Can you speak a more . . . interesting language around certain creatures, Miss Rushton?"  
  
"I'm a Wild Mage if that's what you're asking so yes, I suppose. I can talk to direwolves."  
  
"Ah, well, that _is_ special. But I already knew that. Now, this may be a bit more personal. What did the Sorting Hat tell you?"  
  
"That's very personal, sir."  
  
"I will not pry, Miss Rushton. But I will tell you that if you choose not to tell me it may mean the death of somebody fairly close to you."  
  
"When you put it that way, then, I guess I'll tell you. It said that my mind was blocked and it would just put me in a spot, not caring where, but not Gryffindor or Slytherin, since I have to be in between. It tried to open my mind but my mind had other plans and refused to acknowledge it."  
  
"Did it tell you anything else?"  
  
"It said that it would find out why it couldn't open my mind soon because I was going to see it again. I have all the time in the world, it said, as I will soon be older than it."  
  
"That is quite an ambition for you, Miss Rushton."  
  
"I didn't choose it, sir, it did."  
  
"I see. How is your relationship with Mr. Riddle, Miss Rushton?"  
  
The question took me so aback that I could barely breathe. "Well, he is an interesting person and very unpredictable, sir. Very brilliant. His knowledge is almost painful." I resisted the urge to rub the back of my head where it had slammed on stone. "He is very intense as well, calculating. Like a snake." The last popped out before I could think about it, and realized the humor in it. He was a Slytherin and now I compared him to a snake.  
  
Professor Dumbledore smiled and chuckled, auburn hair drifted down past his mid back when he moved his head down to laugh in private. "I suppose he is, Miss Rushton. We also believe he is a Wild Mage as well. Or perhaps something darker. Someone that can talk to animals but only one in particular. I would also like to warn you that Mr. Riddle acts . . . strangely sometimes. If he ever hurts you through some . . . connection, please tell me. We'll protect you, Miss Rushton. Now, I have one last question."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"The direwolf at your shoulder is named Fenrir, no? Well, I will remind you that if he ever gets in trouble, I will dispose of him in the Forbidden Forest or on the grounds. I assure you that I will not like doing that as it seems that most girls are frightened of large wolves that will grow up to be big ferocious beasts, but it will someday be necessary, as long as you don't train him. I would give you help, but people would then think I'm playing favorites and I don't do that. Do we understand, Miss Rushton."  
  
I noticed he was playing out the royal 'we' and smiled graciously. "Yes, sir, we do understand."  
  
"Glad to hear it."  
  
I nodded and he left in a swirl of bright blue robes caped with stars and moons. For a moment, I wondered what time in the morning it was and if he was in his pajamas. Then I shook my head and reached to pet Fenrir, whose tongue was lolling out of his mouth and whose breath was nearly forming a new hairstyle for me. I scratched his belly then picked up "Magic's Many Forms" and started to read.  
  
"The most well-used type of magic has always been the kind called Light. This magic, considered to be the easiest to learn, is taught in schools and to children. The magic is the most used and the average wizard or witch will have at least ninety-nine percent of their magic Light. Another type of magic, the most uncommon of them all, is a type called Dark Magic. This magic is half of the other one percent that an average wizard or witch will use. Dark Magic is often used in the Unforgivable Curses and the favorite type of most evil wizards. There is one last magic type that only one wizard in the world has. This type, called Wild Magic, is rarely seen among men but much among women. There is only one known witch that carries Wild Magic, and that is the Sorceress Elspeth, who, in the year of 1467, found out that Wild Magic follows through the feminine side of the line and is rarely seen in others. Sorceress Elspeth also discovered that Wild Magic allows the carrier to live longer than any wizard, or witch, or human alive.  
  
"Carriers of Wild Magic can live for hundreds of years. Perhaps the most famous of the Wild Magic sorceresses is Helen of Troy, the most beautiful woman in the world next to the great Sorceress Psyche, who died in the year 5 C.E. after living for more then five thousand years! Helen used her powers to increase her appeal in the court of Priam and to increase her beauty, which was already uncomparable to anyone else except the near-immortal Psyche. Helen is said to have died in the mid-1200's but no one is sure, since the woman could change shape and voice to fit surroundings and look like others.  
  
"Wild Magic often is seen in young girl children by their fifth year. If not by then, then the Magic is extremely powerful and has enough energy to maybe even wipe out all of Ireland, Scotland, and England without thought. It is, therefore, very important to teach the child not to use it foolishly. The main use for Wild Magic is to communicate with most wild animals and perhaps even be able to change into their shape if the power is strong enough. Below is a chart of the most common and rare animals to change into, from the weakest to the strongest:  
  
Rat-most children use this form first as practice  
  
Cat  
  
Lizard  
  
Snake  
  
Toad  
  
Fish-this is the hardest of the easy forms to presue. Rarely does anyone ever go into the Rare category.  
  
Tiger-this is the beginning of the Rare forms.  
  
Horse  
  
Stag  
  
Dog  
  
Lioness  
  
Direwolf  
  
Dragon-this is the hardest, though Direwolves are also equal to the Dragon form in power. Dragon, however, takes up more Magic and nearly kills the bearer in the end, while Direwolves can control the mind of whoever changes into them and often the bearer of a Direwolf cannot come out of the form since Direwolves are exceptionally seductive in power and mind-change.  
  
"Dark Magic is next in extremities though it rarely is seen."  
  
I stopped reading there, my breath short. "Oh holy monkeys," I muttered, "I'm in deep trouble now. Direwolf . . . that's me."  
  
"And me, Mommy, don't forget that!" Fenrir jumped on the book, demanding, "You've read your fill now PET ME!" He licked my chin when I started to scratch his head and such, making him near purr with pleasure.  
  
I laughed at his flopping foot as it pedaled in the air and lost all joy when a sign of Madam Healsped came into view. "Oh goddess," I moaned and hid Fenrir as best I could, warning him to keep quiet. "Great," I said when I saw what she was carrying, "She really is going to inject that stuff in me."  
  
Today was going to be long and boring.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
River-Star: I'm feeling unloved again, drat it. I will not post the sixteenth chapter till the number of reviews punches one hundred and fifty! That is my declaration! I stand by it till someone convinces me otherwise. 


	16. Lord of the Animals: Fellowship of the W...

River-Star: Sorry this took so long. My laptop broke halfway through the chapter and so I had to retype it. That's okay though. We will survive! *cheers and someone hits River-Star with tomato, wipes tomato off face sardonically* Great. . .I love you too everyone. Just keep your hands and feet to yourselves. Thanks.  
  
Yellowroses07: Whoa! How did you figure out it was me? That's crazy! You couldn't have figured it out just by the mythology, right?  
  
Locker1198: I agree whole-heartedly. Of course, she is lying to him at every turn and corner so. . .and the fact that she will have to tell him all of it in the end sorta is a downer too.  
  
Riddleness: Sorry, my computer was having issues *glares at computer* I was really about to toss it out the window.  
  
Amelle: Of course it's a T/G fic! It wouldn't be here if it wasn't!  
  
Silver=blue sapphire: I'll teach you the mythology. I'm really good at telling stories and stuff so it can't be that hard to teach you!  
  
Deatheater4life: thank you! That's really encouraging.  
  
Cazza: I don't like how everyone makes him good. That just. . .is so foreign to me. I mean, why should you give up all your great and evil plans just because of a little redhead? Tom certainly wouldn't turn good for Ginny's sake. Plus it would totally screw up the future.  
  
Satern Mya: Thanks! I appreciate every review I get for this story! *Tom comes on the screen, stomping* Tom: FAN FIC! *rolls eyes and continues* Anyway, ignoring him now.  
  
Rock gal: *says cryptically* All shall be revealed in time, my young student.  
  
Lady Coia: Of course? Ah well, great chapters must be worked on continuously in order to please. Just remember, never do what people want too much or else they'll get bored with it.  
  
Evil pixie of Satan: I've memorized that silly movie and quote it everytime someone says something from it. Yeah, kids are never that subtle. My cousin Austin decided I was going to be his horse for Thanksgiving and told me, "Now, run over there and jump over stuff and if you fall, you have to kiss me." Needless to say, I did jump over stuff and fell down but Austin decided that he should say, "Sissy, sissy, now you've gotta kiss me!" and so I ignored him and ran upstairs.  
  
Twilight Dancer: Since he's not with her yet, he won't feel anything till at least chapter twenty or something. When he does realize it, he will hurt her without realizing it and feel very bad for it because Ginny loses almost all her trust in him.  
  
Meg of Queenscove: Okay, here's the jip: Ginny will not go to Dumbledore, because knowing her, she just won't out of fear of what others will think about her. Myrtle is going to die no matter what, by the way, because Mina makes Tom do it. (unintentionally, of course, but he does.) The heart works in strange ways, and if it means falling in love with a crazed psychopath from the past, what the heck? I say we all chow on popcorn while Ginny screws up her life. *shrugs*  
  
Pants: Interesting choice for a name. Either way, thanks. Anything else you want to see in this fic?  
  
Purplepeopleeater: You have no idea how hard it is to keep the facts right. Adel gave me a lecture on something once because I screwed up on Tom's age. -_-U I don't want that to happen ever again.  
  
Ennui deMorte: Ginny is in a stage where all violence repels her. Like in a first kill, the killer throws up because the stench of blood and such. It takes guts not to throw up at a time like that. Plus, the red wolf is Ginny and Ginny is the red wolf, so using this exquisite math problem we can safely say that when the red wolf is chewing up people and eating them and spewing blood out of her mouth, Ginny's probably gonna do the same. Plus the sight was really gruesome so. . .the medicine didn't work because Ginny's body repels it. It is well known that Wild Mages live longer and usually their systems are very different from regular humans. So, with that info, I can tell you that Ginny is doubly special, not only because she a Wild Mage but also because (for those of you who haven't guessed yet) she's immortal. Being immortal means that she'll never die unless of her choice. Ginny's body doesn't need medicines because she is immortal. Yes, her eyes will change, periodically. You'll find out more about Fenrir soon. Patience is a virtue, remember.  
  
Chapter Sixteen  
  
I could tell you that the Forbidden Forest is all sunshine and holy joy that would make anyone sick to their stomach. But that would be a lie. I could tell you that the sound of wolves and the creeping mist that swirled around my feet as I stumbled through it didn't make me watch where I was stepping the whole time. But that would be a lie too. I could also tell you that I was brave and determined to go on.  
  
That would be a big, fat, major lie too though.  
  
So I'll stick to facts. First of all, I was scared. Yeah, as if low- hanging vines that seemed to have a mind of their own, swirling mists, looming trees with heavy foliage creeping around their huge roots, and the random wolf cries and screams that dotted the otherwise crystal clear silence wouldn't have made anyone nearly wet their pants. Second of all, I thought many times about going back and forgetting about Rose, Faraday, and my gift but everytime I turned around I couldn't go anywhere. Because a vine would wrap itself around my waist or my wrists or maybe even my legs and stop me, twisting me around till I faced the right direction. So, escaping was out of the question.  
  
So, now I was here, trapped in a forest glade that was (as far as I knew) in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the sounds of screams and wolf cries and bellows of pain and I was scared. Great mess to get myself into if I do say so myself. Fenrir, crouched at my feet, would growl periodically at the passing grasshopper or maybe even a snake, but other than that he whimpered just as much as I did. Glancing at him, I knew why I was here. To save him and myself from Tom Riddle's malicious grasp. Sounds stupid to me, but it was truer than true gold in the palm of my hand.  
  
Hey, at least it was better than trying to save the world.  
  
I picked Fenrir up, putting my eyes close to his icy ones. He blinked. "Uh," he whimpered, "Mommy? What are you doing? I'm scared and hungry and tired. Can we go home now?"  
  
I shook my head, opened my cloak and placed him in a huge pocket that had been sewn into it. Underneath my cloak was one of the dresses Tom had bought me. It was a green one, with the silver hem. The sleeves dragged along the ground behind me, leaving a wake of toppled mud and stones. Fenrir's weight in my cloak seemed like more of the dress because of the dress's weight. If only my parents could see me now.  
  
My steps over stone, wood, and puddles of water seemed more hurried as I went on. The darkness around me became blacker and the moisture seemed to increase. The cold in the air became icier and my breath came out in rattled gasps of smoky breath. Another wolf howl sounded and I shuddered. What if I were trapped in here forever? What if they never found my body and left me here as food to the dogs? What if. . .  
  
"Well," I muttered, "At least I could thwart the gods' plan in marrying me off to Tom." I grinned, suddenly looking up at death. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.  
  
Thinking everything was going to be okay, I started to stare at things, wondering at the dark beauty of it all. Just as my mind was going into a trance at the wonder of it all, I heard a low, rasping laugh from the trees. My breath halted in my throat and Fenrir poked his head out from my pocket in curiosity. When the laugh came louder, he ducked down quickly again. "Mommy, I vote that we leave," he whispered and fell asleep again.  
  
But my feet were rooted into the ground like an ancient tree as old as these. The loud laugh, rasping and ugly, came closer and closer till I felt a breath on my neck. I whirled around; screaming when my eyes, a deep blue, met someone's whose were a vibrant amethyst shade. I fell backwards, not noticing that Fenrir had leapt from my pocket and was growling evilly at the man, whose golden hair and woodland skin reminded me of the elves in storybooks. "Isaac!" someone yelled with a feminine voice. A girl, older than me but younger than him in looks, smacked his arm brutally, "You know better than to welcome a guest like that. Someday you're gonna get in so much trouble doing that." The girl's eyes were a healthy green, her skin a pale shade like snow and her hair a chestnut color. Her cheeks were red from the blush as he stared at her in desire.  
  
Suddenly, an elegant, sagely looking woman wandered into the glade, her short golden hair framed a narrow face that looked wise and her large purple eyes glared at the two of them. "Honestly, Lyra, Isaac, get a room. You really need to stop this foolish actions." Her voice was a soft note that reminded me of a flute with a strange accent. Instantly, I liked her. Her clothes were albino doeskin and little swirls of red and orange played across the surface of the fur. Her shoes were sandals, used to desert heat. She looked at me with her catlike lavender eyes and smiled lopsided.  
  
The man named Isaac bumped her with her elbow. "Aw, come on, Sheba. After about one thousand and seven hundred twenty three years you'd think you'd lighten up." She glared at him, eyes changing to mirror a bright red color, "Sorry," he murmured and bowed his head in submission.  
  
Sheba, however didn't stop. Only when another man, this one looking a lot like her with a narrow pale face and silver-yellow hair with luminous purple eyes appeared next to her did she stop her onslaught. "Come, Sheba, you must settle down. It's not their fault our people faded." She looked at him, eyes changing back to lavender and nodded solemnly.  
  
"I understand, Ivan," she whispered. He, too, had the strange accent. He smiled at her, pecked her cheek. Silently, she turned to the forest, and dropped her jaw to her neck, shouting in the strangest voice I had ever heard, "COME!" her accent showed more when she shouted, I realized dimly.  
  
Nine shapes moved in a dim fog and when they approached I realized they were a series of men and women, some younger looking than others. Two men had black hair, three women had brown hair. One woman had golden hair that tumbled down to her waist. Two more men had shades of silver for hair. They were all Wild Mages.  
  
Bowing, each of them came to me. The first were the two men with black hair, identical twins, "We are Liran and Gronan, the sons of Yasul and his mate, Kya. Our shapes are those of dogs." They stared up at me, brown eyes nearly black in the darkness. I nodded as they left.  
  
Three women came to me, their hair brown like Lyra's but their eyes brown as well like fresh chocolate. "We are Sesara, Mara, and Yalena, daughters of the Lord Christov of Greenleaf and his wife, Lady Christinia. Our shapes are those of horse, deer, and cat." They curtsied and left, caramel skirts swirling elegantly around their nimble feet which were clothed in carved wood.  
  
The two men with silver hair walked forward, one was limping profusely, the other carried a bow on his back. "We are Stanton, son of Graul and his mate, Ulazna, and Jacob, son of Lrhab and his mate, Jashula. Our shapes are those of tiger and stag." I curtsied.  
  
The last person I saw was the golden haired woman, with twinkling blue eyes with hints of green. Her Greek style dress was a pale shade with threads of golden illustrating a war between men, a woman in the middle. A sash of royal purple hung around her delicate waist and two bronze bands encased her slender, golden arms carefully, as if afraid to damage the skin beneath. Around her forehead, which was noble and lovely, was a golden circlet with a jeweled flower sprouting from it. "I'm Faraday, daughter of Zeus and his wife, Leda," she said, voice melodious and beautiful. She smelled like roses in spring time, "My shape is that of the dragon." She smiled at me, displaying perfect pearl teeth. I found myself smiling back.  
  
The men and women stood around me, saying, "We are Wild Mages and we bid you into the circle." They stared at me with their different shades of eye color and I said without realization, "I am Virginia, daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley. My shape is that of the red wolf." I walked to the edge of the circle to stand beside Sheba.  
  
She looked at me quizzically before shaking her head. Then, in her strange accent, she approached the center of the circle and said, "I have an idea to bring to the people of the Wild Magic. We teach this girl the ways of our cultures long gone, so that we still have hope no one will ever forget us. She will understand, spread the word, and save us from destruction." Sheba eyed each person in turn with her newly shining red eyes that quickly changed to gold, then a bright lavender again. A strange wind, almost trying to snatch the words from her tongue, pressed into her hair and back, moving the hem of her tunic down and up in an ancient dance. She paused, tilting her head towards the wind, nodded and spoke again. "The Elders agree with me. But we all know that the Elders are weak, their energy drained from years of replacement. They are finished of being subjected to their children and demand that we fulfill this time when they were still around. We must agree to them, for they are our gods too."  
  
A cheer went up around me, snapping me up straight to attention. Sheba faced me with her fierce eyes. "It is decided then," she murmured but to me it sounded like a shout, "You will learn from us all and take on our life's work. We live long, but each of us have lived too long. We will notify you in a few months to warn you of when to come back and begin lessons." She bowed and suddenly, I was alone in the Forbidden Forest, my heart racing and breath coming fast.  
  
Shadows approached me from all around. Knowing it was the Wild Mages, I walked back, trying to remember the way I came. About halfway through the forest, they left me alone and I struggled to find my way back. Wolves howled, Fenrir cried, and I was contemplating screaming my head off in terror.  
  
Nothing new.  
  
I passed by thorns as big as my eyeballs and wondered how hard it would be to get one of those out. Fenrir whined again, this time complaining about the cold. I pressed my hand into my robe and searched for my wand.  
  
There was nothing. Absolutely nothing there.  
  
My head whipped around and my hands grew frantic and sweaty in their pocket as I searched some more. The only thing my fingers found was air and cold sickening truth.  
  
I'd lost my wand.  
  
I ran through the forest without much of a thought, really, my panic was so great. So I really didn't notice when a figure started following me back to Hogwarts. If I had noticed, I probably wouldn't have been in such an embarrassing situation. But I seem to have the worst of luck in this time period, so it's normal now.  
  
Two hands gripped me on the shoulders, resting lightly on my neck, warning me that if the person wanted to, he or she could strangle me without a second thought. Instantly, they whipped me around, shining a bright light in my eyes. I blinked, momentarily out of sorts, before staring in shock at the person in front of me.  
  
"TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE!" I shrieked, "DON'T DO THAT!" His hand clamped down on my mouth again. I promptly stuck out my tongue and licked the inside of his hand all over but he didn't let go. If anything, the only difference on him was that his expression changed from confusion to one of utter disgust.  
  
"Rushton," he whispered, "remember the lesson we had before with the Coranimag. When you wouldn't shut up and I had to make you promise to do anything stupid?" I nodded tightly because his hand was around my mouth tightly and I couldn't do anything really. "Good," he murmured, "Let's demonstrate those properties and talk in whispers. No yelling or I won't give you back your wand."  
  
My eyes must have been as big as saucepans at the moment because he started to chuckle. Note to self: Slap Tom whenever he chuckles, it's very evil sounding. I struggled harder than I ever had in my whole life, managing to lift him off the ground only once and then collapsing on top of him when we both fell. We tumbled in the earth before coming to a sudden stop. Now he was on top of me.  
  
Dratted monkeys of Ra.  
  
Tom was breathing heavily from the struggle, his black eyes closed as if waiting for a slap. When none came (I was just as shocked as he was after all) he opened his eyes and smirked at me. "Didn't know you wanted me that much, Rushton."  
  
I scowled, "Oh go to hell, Riddle," I said in an exasperated tone.  
  
His smirk widened. "See you there, Rushton." Then he turned his sights to trying to get off me. The only problem was that when we had tumbled down, his foot had gotten caught under the uplifting root of a tree and his hand was clutched between two logs. He struggled for a moment, making the image look _very_ wrong indeed. Finally he sighed and looked down at me. "So, Rushton, how's the family?"  
  
I stared at him for a very long time before answering. "Besides dead?" I asked sarcastically. I rolled my eyes at him before gathering up courage. "Why did you stop trying to get away? By all means, please do. I don't want to be here with you anymore." I twisted my head away from his when he rolled his eyes back at me.  
  
"Alright, let's play a game, Rushton," he said suddenly after a pregnant pause. I looked at him. "In the game, I say a word, and you say whatever comes back into your mind instantly, okay?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Fire."  
  
"Ice."  
  
"Water."  
  
"Pool."  
  
"Grass."  
  
"Trees."  
  
"Deer."  
  
"Food."  
  
His eyebrow went up and I tried my best to shrug. "Right then," he said, "Spaghetti."  
  
"Meatballs."  
  
"Hill."  
  
"Rolling."  
  
"Barrels."  
  
"Wood."  
  
"Bows."  
  
"Gentlemen."  
  
"Handsome."  
  
"Riddle."  
  
He stared at me suddenly and my eyes went wide. Holy macaroni and cheese, I did NOT just say that! Ahhh! Nightmare time! Gah! NO! I blushed furiously and tried to look the other way and look innocent. It didn't fool him.  
  
He smirked and I cringed. "So, Rushton has a crush then?" he asked, "I mean, you're only the most forbidden girls in the school due to the fact that Dror is telling everyone that he'll kill whoever comes near you."  
  
I stared at him. "Riddle, will I ever be considered beautiful?" I asked, remembering every bad thing anyone had ever told me. Everytime someone called me ugly, fat, too skinny, too stupid. I remembered them all in a heartbeat. I think Tom noticed suddenly, because his black eyes softened momentarily before he answered.  
  
"Yes, Ginny, you'll always be considered beautiful." He said and then did something unthinkable.  
  
He kissed me.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
River-Star: Sorry, this took so long. My computer and I had a minor disagreement. Let's just say that it won. Read and Review people! 


	17. Explanations, among other things

Riverstar: Okay, everyone, I am truly, truly very sorry for not updating so soon. In fact, I've probably just made enemies among you for this not being a new chapter. Instead, I am posting this to explain my passing actions, or lack of there of. The reasons I have not posted are:  
  
I have writer's block. You know, the worst nightmare of an authoress (in my case) and my others. Seriously, I have nightmares about writer's block.  
  
my mother. She has, as I think most of you know, breast cancer. Except that it has spread to her brain, parts of her hips, her liver, her, well, breasts. She's been put on loads of drugs that, though they are working, just aren't working fast enough. Her cancer just keeps going up in certain areas and everytime they clear that they find even more in another place in her. She's also been put on this drug that makes her jumpy, annoying, and just, well, not herself. I tried eating dinner with her last night and I had to excuse myself at the table because I nearly started crying at the sight of her. She's had so much love and compassion from us and she had so much hope in the beginning of this. But this has been going on for two years now and I don't think she can take much more of it any longer. Since she sent us (us being my little brother and I) to live with my aunt and uncle, she starting to think that we don't want her in our lives anymore and that she thinks that we think that we hate her or something. Frankly, that's NOT true. She's always been my pillar of strength and comfort and has always been there when I've needed her. But I hate it when I see what it's done to her. She's so frail and weak compared to what she used to be. I mean, she would go dancing with me and my friends at my birthday parties, read my books when I was a child, she would play with me anytime of day and sing in the car with me and make jokes. But now she's so tired she just can't do that anymore. Sometimes I just want to scream or cry and run up to people and shout, "My mom is dying and no one's helping me! Why don't you?" I just can't take it.  
  
homework and school. Freshman year is tough, even without the seniors' pranks and such. I'm taking Latin, Geometry, Physics, Ancient History, Expos. Writing 9, P.E., and there's no study hall whatsoever for me. I have to remember to breathe when I'm doing so much homework or else I'd get so caught up in my work that I'd forget and pass out.  
  
So, that said, I hope you all forgive me for not posting up a new chapter. This week, in fact, the whole last semester has been a living Hell for me and full of tears. The best thing I can say is that I have half of the next chapter finished, done between homework issues and such, and am waiting for inspiration on my last half. I truly am sorry that I haven't been trying my hardest for you. I will try harder to satisfy you all and get you what you want. I suppose it's really my fault that I didn't post soon enough. So, thank you, yet again, for your support and encouragement. Thank you, yellowroses07 for agreeing to be my Beta and for helping me with this fic.  
  
But most of all, thank you, everyone, for everything you said and done for me. You have no idea how much I want to know you all and treat you as a friend. Even talk to you and get to know you. If you want to email me, or anything, just email me at: t1west@earthlink.net and I'll answer as quick as I can. I would love to get to know all of you and understand you better and have you understand and know me better and not just see me as another name on this website. Thank you so much.  
  
Riverstar2 


	18. Sometimes, in the Dark of Night, Strange...

Riverstar: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!! Or Hanukah or Kwanza! ^o^ I don't know which one any of you celebrate, so here's your belated Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanza present!!!! Chapter Seventeen, complete with fluff, description and oh so many more mysteries to solve! ^_^  
  
Thanks to:  
  
Taylor: Yea!! You checked it out again! How are you? Are you okay? What'd you get for Christmas? I desire all details. Don't call me till after January 1st though because I'll be in Colorado. Unless you can steal a car and visit me in a few days, I highly doubt I'll get to talk to you until after January 3 or 4th! ~_~  
  
Silver-blue=sapphire: Yes, I'll teach you mythology and anyone else who is eager to learn! Just give me your email and I'll answer any questions and give you the whole story of any culture you'd like and the details. (the myth of Quetzalcoatl is strange.Beware!)  
  
Curly Cory: hmmm..horrification is a word, dear, trust me. Get the fork and knife ready, Curly Cory, because my writing skills are going to give you a feast about their reactions. Not to mention a visitor who happens to get a bit over-protective of Ginny.  
  
Berry-berry: oh trust me, those visions/dreams will show restraints in Ginny's relationship with Tom. Not to mention a few other things that will hold her back from him as well.  
  
Firefly of hell: welcome to reality, where everything sucks and you have homework, but I don't! ^_^  
  
heLLoissMe: You like? This whole fic was created in my shower. (truth be told, it was) I was standing in the hot water, thinking about my other fics and how my friends had told me to write an HP fic. Then I thought, well, what's a coupling that I can expand on and make differently. With Harry/Hermione ones there's just too many roads that have already been taken, same with Draco/Ginny and Ginny/Harry. Also there's the Draco/Harry ones but I DO NOT do shonen-ai. It's nasty to me. I don't want to do a Lily and James until my friends are ready and until I've completed Dancer Among Dragons so I have to wait for that. And so I lighted upon Ginny/Tom. That really hit it. And hence, this story was born in my head as Athena was in Zeus's skull.  
  
Aquarious-sl: yes, please, chocolate chip, if you don't mind. Here's your Christmas present now where's my milk and cookies. Chocolate milk too. I don't like white milk, too bland.  
  
Marilda24: Okay, now, from what you know of my writing and how I always branch off from other people's ideas (Adel and Taylor both know this, err.) I'm not sure it's going to be a happy ending. After all, many people are dying to know about Nymeria and how she ties into this after I dedicated nearly two whole chapters to her. So, I don't think it's going to be a happy, Ginny and Tom have the best wedding of the century fic and all that lovely dovey stuff. Just not me.  
  
Pants: Wow, that's really high praise. I'm sure you must have one other fic besides mine that you like reading, right?  
  
Wizzabee: If I did that, then Nymeria would have absolutely no point in this and neither would the visions and dreams.  
  
Ennui deMorte: Dror is, if you read this whole thing, Ginny's trickster boyfriend. He tricked her into going out with him. She wanted no part in him. He'll show up somewhere around here, I think.  
  
Chapter Seventeen  
  
I could feel the fire in my lips, spreading towards my whole body. I could feel the way his soft lips, like feathers of a swan, pressed against mine hungrily but gently and the way his possessiveness crept in slowly. I could feel his breath fan my face like lava spreads around a volcano after an eruption and I knew that fate was going to occur, whether or not I wanted it to.  
  
My arms rose, almost without any commands whatsoever, and wound themselves around his neck, pressing him to me. His arms were on either side of my head, pinning me down. His fingers were curled in my blood red hair and tugging slightly at them to get a response from me.  
  
And drat it, he did.  
  
I gasped in both pain and pleasure everytime he tugged gently at one of my locks and each time his lips moved against mine. My fingers, like his, curled in his hair, gripping tightly. Then slowly, slowly, I began to realize what was happening.  
  
I was kissing Tom Riddle, the future Lord Voldemort, Dark Lord and Murderer of all, I knew without constraint!  
  
Muffins!  
  
Shocked out of my stupor, I jerked my head back suddenly, withdrew my hands from his hair and placed them dutifully at my sides. Confused, he moved his head down towards mine again, but I moved back again and said, "Stop, Riddle, stop." He stared down at me, his black eyes showing tints of red in his frustration. I thought fast. If Tom was mad because he couldn't kiss me, then if I asked him to get away (even nicely) he would possibly bite my head off. Which would be like eating a jelly donut in a way. . .  
  
Pulling my thoughts away from the idea of jelly donuts (hey, I was hungry and cold!) I thought of a way to get out of the situation before anything else happened. Suddenly, peeking out of my cloak, Fenrir popped his head out of the inner pocket. "Mommy, I'm cold and hungry. When are we going to eat?" He howled and a chill went up my spine when I heard other howls respond.  
  
"Um, Fenrir?" I asked, "I'm kinda busy at the moment so food and warmth will have to wait." I heard a whine from the little direwolf and attempted to shove him back down in my pocket with an elbow. Suddenly, an idea launched in my brain like a shooting star in the Milky Way. "Wait, wait!" I cried and Tom shot me a strange look, "Fenrir, bite the roots and vines and see what happens. Maybe we'll get out of here and fed you and warm you up if you do. So, go Fenrir!" The little pup waggled out of my pocket, pepped his way over to Tom's feet and started to first bark at the limbs (the tree's limbs, not Tom's for all of you who got your hopes up) before biting them ferociously before backing up and pouncing on them, nipping them, and doing so again and again for long moments.  
  
I rolled my eyes. Even a kid has to play in a world of darkness and doubt. Tom must have thought the same thing to because he started a conversation that would always stay in my memory. "So, Ginny," Tom started. I noticed that he had started calling me Ginny after the kiss. Maybe actions do change everything. . . "You like my gift, right?" His eyes had gathered their black look again and I breathed easier.  
  
I looked at him curiously. "What? What gift?" I asked, my eyes meeting his squarely and with a different gleam than usual. This time, I wasn't angry at him, like usual, but instead I just wanted to know something and that seemed to encourage him.  
  
He stared at me a long moment, as if contemplating. "Well, the direwolf, of course. I noticed how much you loved it in the store and decided that it should be your birthday present. I had to keep him in the Slytherin boys' room till your special occasion but it worked in the end. I wish I could have seen your face when you saw him. I called him 'Pup' in my room but you've obviously found a different, better name for him. 'Fenrir,' interesting name. Where did you come up with it?"  
  
I stared back at him then answered in a distant, storytelling voice, "In Norse mythology there is a god named Loki. He's a half-giant and the god of mischief, death, and all bad things. He met a giantess and they had three children: the Midgard Serpent, Hel, and Fenrir. The Midgard Serpent was so long that he encircled the world and had to bite his own tail. He was rainbow colored and the most beautiful thing in the world. Hel was Loki's only daughter, an old hag who was so ugly that people died just looking at her. She took over the land of the sickness and the dead, cackling whenever she pulled a man, woman, or child from the world's grip. The last child was Fenrir, who was a gigantic wolf whose teeth could bite through everything.  
  
"Now, Fenrir had adopted a deep hatred towards the gods and the mortals, except for those within his own family. In retaliation in hatred, he caused trouble wherever he went, sometimes going so far as to end entire villages. The gods, sitting in their heaven, called a meeting about Fenrir's issues. After a short conversation, the gods all decided to tie Fenrir up and leave him. Loki, Fenrir's father, heard such a plan as he was part of the council and warned Fenrir. But Fenrir laughed in his face, his dim love for his father extinguishing into nothing and growing into a seed of hatred as well. He said to Loki, 'Listen, _father_, I am Fenrir, your son and that of a giantess! My teeth are razor sharp and my feet swifter than anyone's, my body is fitter than anyone else's and I can howl loud enough to shatter mountains. They do not worry me. I will bite through any binding they place me in and howl loud enough to shatter their bones.'  
  
"Fenrir then left off, leaving his father in grief for he knew that the gods would find a way to keep his son away from life in the wild whether or not he agreed." I paused in my storytelling, taking a deep breath. Above me, Tom's eyes were closed, as if envisioning the whole thing. I took the rare moment of peace to study him.  
  
His black hair, normally tame and brushed, was wayward in his eyes and over his forehead. His face looked worn and haggard, as if he had not slept for a long time. His body was tense, as if waiting for one person to draw a knife across his throat. Also, there were shadows under his eyes that showed the proof that he had not slept. His face was also draw in a tight look, like his skin was pulled too tight, and I knew he had not eaten for a while. Suddenly, his eyes popped open and he stared at me with the darkest irises in the whole world. His pale, full lips opened to emit his voice, which was so deep and melodic that I knew that if he tried, he could wrap me around his finger. "Well, finish the story, Ginny," he whispered to me.  
  
I shook my head, making blood red strands whack him in the face. He stared at my hair for a moment and said, "Your hair is the most unusual color of red I've ever seen. It's not just red or fiery red or auburn. It's blood red. Something that no one can ever repeat through genetics or anything. If someone made a copy of you, I doubt the hair color would be the same. It's a beautiful shade of red for you, Ginny."  
  
For a long moment, I hung there as a memory shot me.  
  
*Flashback time!*  
  
The cold damp Chamber was horrific to any girl's ten year old mind but to me, it was heaven. It was the second time I had been here and I knew exactly what was in there. There was a large bedchamber, off the main chamber with Salazar Slytherin's statue. It had a king sized bed with red and silver sheets. The posts were carved like snakes and they glared with ruby eyes at anyone, almost daring them to lie down. There were also tapestries in the bedchamber, depicting some scenes of Salazar and his one- time lover, Rowena Ravenclaw. Another tapestries held the scene where Rowena left Salazar because of his cruelty to her muggle students. Then the last tapestries held the vision of a red wolf with crudely shaped dagger teeth and a blood red tongue, children at the wolf feet. On the wolf's shoulder was a pale hand which belonged to a black-haired, black eyed man with pale, full lips and dark robes. I looked at it, and shivered, thinking of my dreams.  
  
In the main chamber there were several snake heads reaching out of the water towards me as I strode towards him down the walkway. The ceiling dripped the cold water on my skin and head but I didn't notice it. When I reached Tom Riddle, he was smiling at me. "Hello," I said shyly and waved a bit. His grin widened and I said, "So, what did you want me for?"  
  
Tom looked at me, stepped forward so close that I felt uncomfortable and gently brushed a lock of my hair. "You know," he said, "I have never seen such hair before. I've seen many shades of reds but yours is the most interesting." I glowed at the compliment as he continued. "And its blood red color just is so beautiful that I can't help but want some." He held up a knife and I held out a tiny lock of my hair. "No, no, Ginny, let me." He grabbed the whole of my hair and sliced it. Suddenly, I felt light headed and clear of all burdens. He had chopped off half my hair!  
  
I turned around ready to reprimand him when he took out a wand and touched my head gently. Saying a spell I didn't catch, my hair grew back, longer and fuller than before. "There," he said and smiled at me again, "All better. We both gain something this way."  
  
A few moments later, I forgot in a whirlwind of laughter and jokes.  
  
*End Flashback time*  
  
Tom was saying something. Something about my hair. I couldn't remember though. All I saw was a black direwolf with artic blue eyes, my Fenrir, nipping loose the bonds that held us together. When the bonds were loose and Tom could move again, I said calmly, "The tree limbs are off you now. You can get off me now." He looked at me for a moment, nodded, and got off me. It seemed like the world had been stopped from crushing me into oblivion when he got off. My breathing became less shallow and fuller and my body stopped compacting in itself.  
  
Tom offered me his pale hand, eyes full of something I couldn't even start to comprehend. Fenrir jumped into my pocket again before I took it and I suddenly found myself torso to torso with Tom Riddle. His breath fanned my face in hot waves of mint leaves and my blue eyes went wide as his black ones clashed like two armies on a battlefield. "Come on, Ginny," he said, "Let's go back to the castle. It's getting dark and cold and I don't want to spend the night out here."  
  
Listening to reason, I nodded and watched as he led the way. Almost instantly we stepped out of the forest and into the fields before Hogwarts. I looked to the castle's battlements and torrents and thought, This is where I belong. This is my home. I belong no where else but here.  
  
As we approached Hogwarts' double doors, Tom turned around and looked at me. "Listen, Rushton," he said and I sighed. So, it was back to Miss Nobody again. "This never happened. We're both in relationships at the moment and what happened back there was just a lost control moment. I. . .I wouldn't have kissed you if you hadn't goaded me on."  
  
Suddenly, at his words, I was red with embarrassment and anger. My eyes began to hurt and a swirl of change went over them, as if they themselves were changing color. Looking at my reflection in Riddle's own, I realized they had turned the same color of my hair.  
  
Blood red.  
  
"No, Riddle," I whispered low and furious, my voice like a weeping flame that poured lava and pain instead of salt water, "You listen. I never goaded you on. What you did was on your own accord. You take responsibility for it because I did nothing to instigate it besides ask a question. You never had to answer me that way, with that kiss. You didn't have to lie to me in order for me to trust you. You can forget tonight if you want to, but I'm not. I'm going to consider it sharper blade for my knife until the information is so old it's dull." I felt the red wolf rise up in me, fierce, protective, and hungry. The red wolf growled at Tom, just as I glared at him and we both decided on one thing.  
  
I/she hated him.  
  
Tom stared at me in something akin to fear as I grinned wolfishly up at him. "Well, now, that was quite a nice chat. Let's not do it again sometime. Instead, I'll walk up these stairs, enter these doors, and leave you behind."  
  
Say my name, please, Tom, say my name. I'm not doing this please help me. . .  
  
"In fact, I ought to lock you out here or curse you to petrifaction so that you can watch the wonderful moon tonight and feel the cold wind."  
  
Help me . . . please, someone, just say my real name. Tell me it's alright. Ask me what's wrong.  
  
"Yes, that would be nice, wouldn't it. Just leave you out here and let you freeze tonight. Never let you in. Wait till someone gets you. That would be so nice."  
  
Ahhhh! Please, please, someone help me. I don't want to be this. Just say my real name and it'll be okay. JUST SAY MY REAL NAME!  
  
Tom stared at me in concern and fear then said in a shaky voice, "G-G-Ginny . . . Your eyes are red. Are you okay? Do you need to go to the nurse? Madam Healsped will take care of you right and quick. Come on, you're hallucinating. Let's go in." He grabbed my arm and when he did, the red wolf left me, in panic of my real self being summoned back. I nearly collapsed in his arms, panting and horribly exhausted.  
  
"Riddle," I whispered, "Help me back up to bed. I need to. . .to lie down. I can't get up the steps. . .It's so far. ." My sentence broke off as he rolled his eyes.  
  
"Ginny," he said as if explaining to a three-year-old, "I'm not going to leave you here, tired and weak. I'll take you up myself. Just tell me the Ravenclaw password and I'll take you back up to your room."  
  
I groaned slightly, trying not to fall asleep in his arms. "I can't tell you the password, though. I promised Myrtle that I wouldn't give it to anyone who's not in Ravenclaw."  
  
He grabbed me around the waist, hurled me up in his arms, and placed both my arms around his neck. "If I don't know the password to the Ravenclaw Commons then I can't take you back to your own bed."  
  
My eyes were already closing in exhaustion but I forced them open. "I can't tell you. . . Promised. . .Myrtle. . ." Darkness flew over my eyes as I shut them and fell asleep in the future Dark lord's arms.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
Tom moved through the corridors, sighing at Ginny's small weight. Either she worked out too much or she didn't eat a lot. Tom hoped the former for her.  
  
Looking down at her fairy face, he thought, This is a girl whose faced more than I could. Seen a lot more than I could ever see, done more than I can ever do. She's possibly the most beautiful girl I've ever met and she doesn't believe that she is beautiful. She even surpasses Mina.  
  
He crossed the steps down into the dungeons and whispered the Slytherin password ("Sneaky Snakes") and entered the stone wall secret passageway. Gripping her even tighter as he crossed the common rooms, he jogged up the steps to his room (which was totally separated from everyone else's because he was a favorite student of the Slytherin headmaster.) Slowly, almost lovingly, he cast her fragile-looking form on his bed and sat on the edge.  
  
What was he going to do with her? He couldn't sneak her out in the morning because no matter what there were always Slytherins in the commons. He could try to sneak her out just before class and force her to run all the way, but she had no books or the proper clothes for it. All the sudden, it snapped into place. Stupid Riddle, he cursed himself, It's only Saturday. Tomorrow was Sunday, the day where some of the Hogwarts students, and all the Slytherins, got together in the room set aside for worshipping of the gods or whatever religion they practiced. Tom was certain all the Slytherins would be there, for they were, though none would believe it, quite devout pagans.  
  
Tom looked back down at Ginny. But what about clothes? He couldn't exactly rush up to her accommodations and grab some. No, he would have to wait till the coast was clear, in the morning, and send her up to her rooms to dress and finish her homework. After all, he didn't even know the password.  
  
Almost unconsciously, Tom let his hand stray into her hair and buried his fingers in its full, straight, blood red locks. It was soft, silky. Almost hypnotic in nature. He wished he could just stay there and look at her forever.  
  
But he was tired and gods forbid if he was going to let her take his bed!  
  
Instead of waking her up and forcing her out, he changed into his nightclothes (consisting of a pair of baggy pants and a sleeveless t-shirt) and climbed in the bed. Blowing out the candle on his bedside table, Tom glanced around the room almost possessively, as if frightened that someone might come and try to take it away from him. This was home to him, and if anyone took it away, he would have no choice but to defend it. He might even kill for it.  
  
Slowly, as if time itself protested the action, Tom fell asleep. The last thing he saw was a glimmering shadow in the bedroom's corner that stalked away slowly.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
Juniper was tired, almost falling asleep on her homework, which would have resulted in the ink pot tipping over and spilling its contents on both her hair and work. However, she had a strong constitution, one that wouldn't let her back down from a fight. And sleep, in her opinion, was just another battle to her. So, she pinned her eyes open with diligence and forced herself to get up and look for yet another book about the Divine, a race that was said to have faded out.  
  
The candle she held nearly guttered out as she got up quickly (again to force herself awake) and strode over to the Restricted Section that the librarian had given her access to when she had proven herself worthy. As she batted away cobwebs, dust, and things she didn't want to think about, her eyes stormed across the shelves like a madman looking for gold.  
  
"Do-dads," she muttered, cataloging each one, "Delphic Oracle, Death Cheating. . .Where are you?" her impatience, though she barely had any at all, was starting to grow. Snapping her cerulean eyes to a faintly scrawled book, she read, "The Divine and How They Changed. There you are!" she whispered and grabbed it with the hunger of a starving man.  
  
When she got back to her leather chair and oak table, she groaned. It was in an entirely different language from her native English. It was true that Juniper's father had libraries on top of libraries, but she had only learn half the languages in there and this was one book she could never learn to read. The script, though flowing, was puzzling and hard to trace with either eye or finger. Staring at it made her vision blur and just touching it made her finger burn. "But," she murmured, "That doesn't make sense. I just read the title in English a few seconds ago." She growled low and furious under her murmurs and slammed the book on the table in an un-ladylike fashion. Her cobalt blue dress swirled around her ankles as she turned and started to head over to the Restricted Section.  
  
"The Divine and How They Changed," said a faint voice, from behind Juniper, "By Sheba Ivankinaskle. Ah yes, I've read this book. So many times I've think I've memorized it." Juniper whirled around, ready to reprimand the person for being out of bed at this late hour when something stopped her.  
  
It was Ginny. Dressed in an Egyptian style white gauze dress with golden sandals on her feet, Ginny stared at the book with blazing blue eyes that contrasted darkly with her blood red hair. 'But,' Juniper thought, 'this isn't really Ginny.' No, Ginny had straight hair and this girl, well; hers was wavy with the ends curling naturally. And her eyes, they held a more purplish tint to them.  
  
Ginny/the girl, looked up at Juniper, a beginning of a soft smile starting to travel on her full lips. "Who. . ." Juniper questioned, her cerulean eyes narrowing suspiciously, "Who are you? Why aren't you in bed?"  
  
Ginny/the girl grinned, a beautiful grin that made her face light up with some inner beauty of hers. "Who I am is not important. You'll be dead before you even know me, bearing your precious son, though that son will know my half-sister. And I'm not supposed to be in bed. You are." The girl's lips didn't even move.  
  
Juniper's eyes widened. "How are you speaking?" she asked softly, "What country are you from? Are you a witch?"  
  
The girl's lips (for Juniper was positive it wasn't Ginny anymore from her past comments) twitched at the ends like she wanted to laugh. "I'm from Ireland," the girl said though her lips still weren't moving, "though my parents are from England. How I'm speaking shouldn't matter to you. And you already know I'm a witch. Otherwise I wouldn't be able to come here. I came to see my mother, actually, to warn her of things that cannot be. I've been trying to influence her, by speaking to her in her dreams, but it's not working. It feels as though she doesn't want me. And I, well, I'm afraid to succeed in my chosen path." The girl's eyes went down to caress the book's cover again with blazing purple-blue eyes.  
  
Juniper walked over to the girl, and suspected that she was just her age. "What do you mean, 'speak with your mother?' If I'm dead before I even know you or witness your birth, how are you here and wanting to speak with your mother? And for that instance, why are you afraid of warning her? What's going to happen?" Juniper sat in the leather chair and motioned with a graceful hand for the girl to sit down as well. The girl did, her dress ruffling around her and reminding Juniper of a picture of Helen of Troy that she once saw in a museum. 'This girl,' Juniper thought, 'she reminds me of Helen of Troy. So pale and beautiful, so sad as well, but full of determination to get through it.'  
  
The girl said, "You know my mother, Juniper. You know her quite well. In fact, soon you will make an oath with her. One that will bind you to this world till you complete your purpose and hers.  
  
"I'm sure you've noticed that you've never seen me before. That's true. I'm not of this time period. I came back to warn my mother of things that cannot be and she refuses to listen to me, partly because of her emotions, partly because of her own ignorance in the matters of destiny. Because of her refusal to listen, I'm half divided. Part of me wants me to just kill him, to fulfill my destiny and many others. But the other part, the one that wants people to be safe, happy, to go along with it and end my part in this theater. It would destroy me before I was born, condemn my mother to a life of unhappiness and despair, and her ending it by taking her own life after bearing three children to a man who saw her use only in her body but not her mind. But the rest of the world would be safe and alive, untouched by his vile hand as well as my sister's." The girl stopped, "Anyway, I heard you call for help, in the depths of your mind. You need someone to translate this for you, well, I can."  
  
And so, Juniper didn't complain. The girl translated the chapters' names, looked up the correct information for Juniper and even cracked a few jokes along the way, all without uttering a word. Yet Juniper was still able to hear her clearly, as if her mouth was wide open and shouting.  
  
When Juniper had finished, the girl smiled and left, exiting the library and heading towards the dungeons on a mission. The cerulean eyed beauty followed the blood red haired girl after packing away her stuff, still suspicious. She dodged the girl everytime those blazing purple-blue eyes ravaged the room for followers of her footsteps by hiding in niches and alcoves most of Slytherin had installed for protection. When the girl stopped, she hid in a wide alcove behind a small statue of the goddess Flidais, Irish goddess of the wilds and often equated to Artemis. The strange girl herself hid behind a statue of Deirdre of Sorrows, an Irish heroine in the myths who was the greatest beauty in the world. That was when they came.  
  
Tom Marvolo Riddle was holding something in his arms, pale face contorted in deep thought and his black eyes noticing every particle of dust in the air. Obviously he was afraid to get caught. When he whispered the Slytherin password and turned to enter the passageway, Juniper caught her breath.  
  
Ginny! He was holding Ginny!  
  
Juniper nearly rushed at him in anger of violating their friend but then she saw Ginny's closed eyes and knew that he had done nothing of the sort. She saw that he was instead holding her tenderly, as if afraid she might break in his arms. Closing her eyes, she knew suddenly who the girl's mother was and who she was trying to stop from marrying her mother.  
  
Tom and Ginny.  
  
Darkness and light.  
  
Ice and fire.  
  
Earth and Air.  
  
Death and Life.  
  
Hunger and Thirst.  
  
Black and white.  
  
Both wolves, both in the same situation, both destined for something they couldn't stop. Juniper gasped suddenly as she watched the girl disappear before her eyes and possibly enter the portrait. The albino haired girl ran to the portrait and commanded it to open. The portrait did but only after giving her a suggestive look. Juniper ran up the stairs to the Boy's Dormitory but stopped suddenly. If Tom had taken Ginny up to his room so they could rest, he was possibly still awake and if Juniper entered. . .All of hell would break loose.  
  
Juniper stopped on the stairs, unsure of what to do, and buried her head in her hands. She didn't know what to do.  
  
And Juniper always knew what to do.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
River-star: Okay, that was yet another mind-boggling chapter to add. Again, I'm sorry for this being late. Any suggestions on future problems (I've already got the pairing figured out and such) as well as reminders, issues with the fic, and such, just email me or say it in the review. Either way, it will get to me. Thank you for all your support and acknowledgment. Love you all! 


	19. Hair Styles of the Rich and Famous

River-Star: okay, sorry for the wait. My new computer just wiped out all thirty pages of this chapter. Something about an error report. All is hazy. Anyway, hope you read and enjoy. By the way, does anyone know how to get italics and bold on ff.net??? It is still a mystery to me and I'm trying to figure the stupid thing out. *Growls and grumbles about waylaid italics*  
  
Thanks to:  
  
Hi I'm Crazy: Hi, I'm River-Star, the deranged, ice queen of hell and short, half-Irish girl from nowheresville. You lost your dad when you were eight? I'm sorry for your loss. A bit late, but that still must bite. I'm just glad that I knew her and she didn't die when I was five or four so that I at least have memories. Sometimes, though, I curse my memories because they force me to leave class with tears in my eyes.  
  
Catt: Isn't it psycho how we all lose the ones that are dearest to us when we need them the most? It seems to me that that little pattern happens to be the big picture in my life. As soon as I need someone, they leave to another country, or another state, or they just pass away. I'm sorry about your grandfather. He must have meant a lot for you to heroize him so much. I didn't know my grandfathers. One of them drunk himself to death, the other just died of old age. So I didn't know them that well.  
  
I forgot my password: *laughs* Nice! All you have to do to get it is to click the little box in the corner that says: email my password or something along those lines and you'll get your password back in a few minutes. But you're probably not patient enough for that one, because I know I wasn't. *Laughs* I'm glad you haven't thought that I've ditched this thing. I love writing this. Its so amusing to type this all out and see which way the characters are going to go.  
  
Pants: Don't worry. I'm probably just going to throw myself into my work so much that I forget to do other things that include my health in one large branch of time. So I'll be spending more time writing this than is probably healthy for me and get a lot done.  
  
Firefly of hell: Yeah, I'm going to just toss myself into work and my papers and grades and hope it dulls the pain at the moment. I'm sorry about your loss of your mother as well. It really sucks, doesn't it? I mean, one moment you're kissing her cheek, the next you're sobbing and trying to rip your hair out in grief. I don't know how hard you took it but I can relate now because, well, I guess I'm sorta going through the things you did, ya? Not exactly, I know, but, hey, it's close.  
  
Fanficloveronunfairsite: Thank you so much! Honestly, that brightened me up considerably! ^_^ The compliment about the story, I mean.  
  
Pheonixgurl: that's what I was thinking. So now I'll be spending much more time on this story and many of my others on ff.net.  
  
Paranoidwench: thank you. Many people prayed for my mazah. Sometimes it just helps to know that people actually think about you other than when they are speaking with you.  
  
Blue – silver = sapphire: No worries. I plan to work on this thing more and more than ever before so I can dull my grief. Hopefully, from the exercises I'm doing in writing class, my stories will improve and give you guys a better time reading them. At least, that's what I'm hoping for.  
  
Twilight Dancer: I did save it on a floppy disk. For some odd reason though, when I tried to get through to it, the computer kept shutting me down and told me there was an error thingie. *Shuffles around trying to find mallet*  
  
Taylor: Thanks, Tay. You're practically one of my best friends. I'm glad you got through that one time to call me. If you tried to call last time and I wasn't there, it was because my aunt and I were taking a walk with my little brother. Well, no, I take that back. They were walking, and I was running and singing to my Evanescence music at the same time. That was a workout.  
  
Amelle: Thank you, I'm trying.  
  
Aiya: thank you as well. Grief is hard. Especially when you're not used to it.  
  
Rutupatel: Yeah, I just found out that it wasn't the cancer that killed her. There was a virus that killed her instead. It just . . .took over her in the last months of her life till my mother wasn't really there and it was just someone else looking back at me.  
  
MoUna: I'm laughing! I swear I am! People are trying their hardest to get me to laugh as much as possible and I think my abdomen is getting more of a workout than ever.  
  
HeLLoisMe: I'm sorry to hear about your aunt. I know that I would crash and burn if my aunt ever died. Due to the fact that I live with her and have been doing so since I was eight years old.  
  
Midnight Moon: Yeah, I've been thinking that. I'm just glad she wasn't in a hospital beforehand. I didn't want her to be in pain or in that place with the rest of the people that get it bad. I'm glad that she died at home and not anywhere else.  
  
Gothlic: Nah, I used to working myself overtime. Especially in my school. Everyone has to try their hardest or else they don't really pass. So, this grief. . .I'm going to work it off or make myself numb to it or something.  
  
Fire-sprite16: Thank you so much. I did place it on a floppy, but it wouldn't go into the floppy to pull out my copy of it. So I was just sort of stuck there. A book.... I am thinking hard about that one. I'm trying to figure out what the plot should be. I mean, evil wizard takes over the world is so.... used. But, I think that's what I'm going to end up doing. I'm trying to make Mina so well hated that by the end, everyone will cheer. *laughs* I'm so cruel to my characters.  
  
Kali Lestrange: thank you. It's hard but we're all trying.  
  
Chapter Eighteen  
  
I wish I could tell you what it is really like to wake up slowly in the arms of a madman. Really, I do. But as fate would have it, I didn't wake up slowly. Not at all.  
  
Cold.  
  
That's what I felt. Oh, and wet, but that didn't really seem to matter at the moment. No, the main reaction of suddenly feeling cold and wet would be to scream, but that's not what I did either. Instead I shot straight up, banging my forehead on an upside down bucket, and slumped back into the bed. Pain scratched my head as fire seemed to vanquish the icy cold feeling and I shouted in anger, "TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE! YOU ARE DEAD MEAT!"  
  
A snicker was heard and I shot up again, careful to miss the still slightly swinging bucket. It was then that I realized that it wasn't Tom that had done it. It was a pleasantly surprised Luca Malfoy and Richard Potter that had done such an instrument of sublime torture against me. I glared at them and they stared at me.  
  
In an instant, I had a feeling I wouldn't be a nobody at Hogwarts anymore.  
  
"Well, well, Tom has another girlfriend. I thought you were a pagan, not a Mormon, Riddle!" Luca said, and eyed an infuriated and rather red-eyed Tom. "It seems you've already got yourself a catch and everything."  
  
It seemed to me like my mouth must have dropped to the floor when Tom bolted out of the bed and pointed his black wand in Luca's face calmly. "Would you like to state that sentence again, Malfoy?" he asked in a pleasant tone. His voice suggested they were nearly to the most boring part of a conversation about the weather. His eyes suggested he was going to murder Luca in one second if he blurted out the wrong syllables.  
  
"Erm, nice wand . . .?" he said carefully, grinning rather nervously and attempting to edge his way out of the room.  
  
"I thought that was what I heard," Riddle said, still glaring with red irises. He then turned to Richard. "What in the Veil is going on?" he demanded, "Why am I wet? Why is there a bucket hanging above my bed? Oh, and WHY THE SEVEN GATES OF HELL ARE YOU IN MY ROOM?" The last was said in a rather amusing bout of shouting.  
  
Even my mother would have been put to shame, really.  
  
Richard shuffled his feet and gulped. "Well, you see, that is... well, erm . . ." he seemed to be at a lost for words and then, suddenly, he pointed at Luca, "It was his entire fault!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. Tom eyed them both with disgust.  
  
"See, all we were doing was sitting in the Common Rooms and then Juniper said, 'Why don't you two check on Tom and make sure he's alright?' And we said okay. But then I thought that it would be just too boring to just check on you so I thought that we could spice it up a bit. We grabbed magical water, two eggs and a cup of sugar and applied them to you and then........"  
  
"Yes?" Tom's foot was tapping in a rather interesting motion that seemed to have captivated both boys' minds.  
  
"Well," Luca added in a rush of the English language, "we mixed them together and tipped the bucket over and then we had planned to flee but you and Ginny reacted too soon and...."  
  
"Richard, are you well aware it was your entire fault?" Tom asked, dismissing Luca as if he were just another fly in a pig house.  
  
Richard's blue eyes met Tom's reluctantly.  
  
"Y-y-yes . . ."  
  
"Then why did you say it was Luca's fault?"  
  
"I dunno."  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"You really should look up your actions before you try them, Richard. They might work better that way."  
  
"Yes, sir." Richard looked like a beaten dog. It was all I could do not to laugh. Instead, I crammed a bit of sheet into my mouth and wondered at the interesting taste of woven silk. Richard seemed to have noticed my motion and was trying not to laugh too hard at my expression.  
  
"Good. Now then, you say it was magical water?" Tom added, looking now at Luca. His eyes weren't simmering anymore. And his black raven's wing hair seemed to have fallen into its usual look that said, 'I'm orderly, professional, and dangerous. Don't mess with me.'  
  
I stuffed more sheet into my mouth as Tom's body suddenly changed color, as well as his hair. He was now a bright red and his hair was silver. "Would you mind telling me what the side effects are, please?" he asked politely. Luca and Richard's eyes widened considerably and suddenly they started to get antsy.  
  
"Uh, I gotta go to the bathroom." Richard said and sprinted down the stairs. Suddenly, realizing he had left his buddy behind, he reached back through the open door, gripped Luca's sleeve.  
  
"Yeah, err, I need to go wash my dog." Luca added and ran with Richard through the door, down the stairs, and into the recesses of Hogwarts.  
  
I bit my lip. Those two seemed like they would never grow up. Then I looked at Tom with my blue eyes. "Heh heh." I laughed and suddenly the sheet wasn't enough to stop me. He glared at me.  
  
"What?" he asked. He turned around to look at me and at the same time caught a look of himself in the mirror. "AH!" he shouted and stared. "LUCA MALFOY AND RICHARD POTTER!" In an instant, he was gone.  
  
Pursing my lips at his sudden temper flare, I gathered my wits and walked over to the mirror. Frankly, I wasn't as bad as Tom. Mostly because I hadn't gotten the brunt of it. My skin was a shimmery gold color and my hair was still bright red, though now with more orange in it than anything else. Overall, I didn't look ugly but I wasn't fashionably able to pull it off like Juniper or Lorna would be able to.  
  
Grumbling about house codes and overzealous pranksters, I looked myself over. Despite the color, the only other thing that really needed to be changed was my wrinkly clothes. And from the state they were in (I'm not exactly the lightest sleeper in the world, and I don't stay still) people would suspect something. Unless I acted like it was perfectly normal . . .  
  
With a quick grin at my reflection, I hopped down the stairs, finger combing my tresses as I moved, and whistled a little tune. It was only when I reached the bottom stair when I realized a horrible truth.  
  
I was in the Slytherin Common Room.  
  
I was a Ravenclaw.  
  
Ravenclaw is neutral.  
  
Slytherins are evil.  
  
I'm in Slytherin.  
  
I'm in BIG ARSE TROUBLE!  
  
Stepping back two stairs, I peeked into the room. No one that I knew was there, nor anyone that I hated. Mina and her cronies, I decided, must be elsewhere. Slowly, I checked the room again for any lurking people. Not that anyone would have a reason to lurk in his or her own common room but this was the Slytherins, mind you. They are totally different from regular, sensible people on the street that you walk by everyday. I mean, come on! THE Lord Voldemort, king of eternal darkness and evility came from this house. Hell, I'd even kissed him.  
  
I plotted my big escape from the Common Room with as much bravado as a girl who'd just come from the future and was in the process of destabilizing and later on, possibly changing Lord Voldemort possibly could be. Aka: my plan sucked.  
  
My whole idea was to lurk (yes, the things the Slytherin do when they are in their common room supposedly) around the room, acting like I belonged. If anyone questioned me, I'd say I was invited by Lorna or Juniper for a sleepover. If they asked me why I was in Tom Riddle's room, I would say I had been looking for some jellybeans. Easy as pie, right?  
  
Dreadfully wrong, actually. I took a few steps that I hoped looked like a lurker's steps, and walked gracefully (or so I hoped) into the common room. A few people looked at me strangely, and I paid them no mind. Sweat that had developed along my brow like a picture developing in red light disappeared with ease and my steps became more rushed as I neared freedom.  
  
Just then, a melodic voice crawled through the door to me and it was all I could do not to hide behind the couch where five Slytherins were watching a game of riveting chess. (Note: the sarcasm) The doorway opened and I saw a flip of raven's wing black hair that was so dark as to be blue, and then a glimmer of emerald green eyes as Mina Silverglass laughed. "And so I said that she's just a pig with a name and parents that aren't butchered." She said loudly and smiled, flipping her hair again.  
  
Her two golden haired and chestnut haired cronies laughed outright as if it were the funniest thing in the world and flipped their hair too. Their eyes, gray and honey-yellow, however said it was downright cruel. Even, it seemed, the Slytherins didn't like Mina as much as they put on. She truly was a bat out of hell.  
  
It seemed to me that right when those emerald eyes landed on me that time seemed to stop. Everything, even the little dust mite that had landed on my pupil, seemed to freeze in motion.  
  
And there I was. Stuck in the middle of it, on a green and silver rug made of some strange material possibly from India, red hair straight as a board and face pale from days spent in the hospital with no release into the sun.  
  
Mina's eyes seemed to lighten up just a bit when she saw me. No, maybe lighten up isn't the right phrase. Maybe, curl down into a psychotic abyss of madness seems more approximate.  
  
I could say that she struck a low blow, and I fell to the floor sobbing. I could even say that her ultimate beauty in the matter seemed to have struck me as odd. But those would be lies. "Rushton," she said, her purring voice twirling over the words as if they were musical notes to be played, "Fancy seeing you here."  
  
"Silverass," I added, "Nice not seeing you with your tongue choking someone while you shove it down their throat." I smiled, for affect, and watched her turn a bright red.  
  
"So, Rushton, what brings you to our nice little area in the castle?" she asked, taking a few steps around me, eyeing me predatorily. "I don't see Ambrose and Gahlin around anywhere. Or maybe you were visiting my boyfriend." She added the last as if it struck her as funny and laughed.  
  
I rolled my azure eyes. "Go to hell, Silverass, and get out of my way." I said and attempted to shove past her. Her blonde and brunette cronies got in my way and underneath the facials and cucumbers, they were quite strong. I tried to shove them out of the way, found myself, instead, wedged between the two and not going anyway fast. Whenever I attempted to struggle, they seemed to scrunch together more till it seemed like I was the cream filling in the Oreo cookie. Mina then saw fit to face me this way.  
  
As if she were the Roman Emperor and I was the gladiator up for her vote of life, she put her face in mine and said, "You know, I honestly do not see what he sees in you. Sure, you're pretty and all, but your soul is like a wolf's, a ferocious and protective. Even lonely, really." She flipped her black hair back again, her green eyes lit in triumph. "And yet here you stand, in the liar of the enemy, and you can still hold your head high. Why is that? Are you really a lion instead of a wolf?"  
  
I blinked.  
  
What the hell was she talking about?  
  
And when did the French succubus learn to analyze stuff like that? I thought she only analyze her nose hairs, which, might I add rather surreptitiously, she still needed to get out with nice silver tweezers.  
  
"Get out of my way," I growled, and I felt anger rise in me, hot and steaming. The anger burnt its way up my throat and into my skull. Soon enough, I had a feeling that it would reach my eyes and she would know exactly why Tom liked me. My eyes told a different story than what anyone else could. "Look, Silverglass, I don't want to play games today. I have homework due tomorrow that I must get done and unlike you, I want to eat my breakfast and NOT become anorexically skinny." I glared at her, feeling my irises twist in an attempt to change to the dreadful ruby color. But I shoved it down.  
  
Mina, her pale cheeks becoming a nice shade of rogue, gaped at me and then smiled. "You just wait, Rushton. You'll have it coming to you. Just you wait." She crowed and motioned for her cronies to release me.  
  
I rolled my eyes again. "Don't you know that that line is outdated? Honestly, Silverglass, it's dead and rotting. And, what a coincidence, just like you." I shot back and before she had time to answer, I scrambled out of the place.  
  
But while I said that, I had a feeling that what she said was true. A black cloud seemed to hover over me and I had no doubt that soon it was going to pour little drops of rain all over me.  
  
Speaking of showers, I thought as I climbed through the portrait to the Ravenclaw room, I need one really, really badly. The hospital seemed content to just let me sleep the whole time and she really didn't give me bathroom breaks. (At least, if you call bathroom breaks with me sitting in the stall, her outside the door screaming that I need to get done quickly because she has other patients and I only have one minute left anyway. She only gave me two minutes, by the way.) So I didn't exactly have time for a shower.  
  
The first thing that I did when I rushed through the Ravenclaw Common Room was grab Myrtle, who was being taunted by two, rather large boys, and yank her out of there while I was still walking. I ran upstairs, taking two steps at a time and a bouncing Myrtle behind me, and said, "We've got to talk."  
  
When she and I reached the Ravenclaw rooms for girls, I slammed into the bathroom and talked to Myrtle through the door. "Myrtle, I hate myself!" I shouted as I yelped when hot water slapped against my hands and face.  
  
There was a hesitant reply through the wooden exterior of the room. "Why?" she asked slowly and loudly enough for me to hear.  
  
"Because I just slept with Tom Riddle!" I shouted back and bit my lip as I watched grime and mud wash off my body. The trip in the woods to visit the Wild Mages had taken more than I'd thought.  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
This time she didn't even bother to yell through the door, she just barged in with shock cleanly written on her face. Her pigtails flew behind her as she sat on the closed toilet and stared at me through the curtain that was placed over the bath/shower. Her spectacles were soon covered in heat fog from the hot water I had turned on and she took them off as so not to hinder any sightfulness. "YOU SLEPT WITH HIM!? Holy cow! What was it like?"  
  
I stared at her, my azure eyes incredulous in my pale face. "Um, I slept. He slept. We just slept." I said and raised my arms to cover my hair in shampoo and conditioner from a clear bottle. My hair was soon back to its natural silky, straight nature, though not dry due to the fact that I was still under the water, but it was clean. Soon enough, I was out of the shower, having told Myrtle to wait outside with the questions. I dried myself with a strange towel that felt like rubbing thorns all over my body then comb my hair out till it reached my knees. I needed to cut it, I knew, but I just didn't have the heart to.  
  
Slowly, I combed the rest of it, starting at the bottom, out, and rolled it up into a thick bun and placed a pencil that one of the Ravenclaws had left lying on the bathroom sick in the middle to hold it. Some tendrils snaked out, however, and framed my face. Growling slightly, I twisted the tendrils up and around themselves in braids and stuck them into the back of the bun. At that exact moment, something else twisted its way up MY arm and its silky skin etched over mine in patterns as its strange feeling tongue devoured the taste of it. A glimmer of black, a shimmer of red, and I knew who was there.  
  
"Red-Shadow," I murmured, touching the back of the snake's head affectionately. The snake hissed something and I said, "No, I haven't abandoned you, Red, you've just got a master that has been tying me up lately."  
  
Another hiss.  
  
"Okay, fine, NOT your master then. Your friend, Tom."  
  
Long hiss with drilly punctures of smaller hisses.  
  
"Thank you, I love you too, Red."  
  
Long hiss; short hiss; long, long, LONG hiss.  
  
"No, that's not true. I didn't SLEEP with him. All we did was snore and sleep. That kind of sleep. Not the romping around, kissing, snuggling, 'I- Love-You-And-Here's-How-I'm-Gonna-Show-It' sleep." I said slowly.  
  
Another short hiss then she slithered away, leaving a trail of moisture in her wake. For some reason, this struck me as odd. First of all, the moisture in the air was not enough to make her leave this sort of trail along the ground. Second of all, she couldn't have been in here since I came in. She probably got in when Myrtle did five minutes ago. This said in done, I could safely say that she hadn't been in here long enough to accumulate that sort of moisture. Which means she had been somewhere else before she had come here.  
  
Which means that somewhere else would have to be dank and dark.  
  
Which means that dank and dark somewhere place that she was before she came here would have to be in the dungeons.  
  
And those dank and dark dungeons that she was in before she came here would be somewhere close to the Slytherin region.  
  
Holy macaroni and cheese!  
  
I nearly fell over. Red-Shadow had found that place I had been in last time. She could take me there, I could do some research on that snake thing that I found down there and then I could figure out why the heck its in the Hogwarts dungeons.  
  
"Myrtle! Myrtle! MYRTLE!" I shouted as I scrambled out of the bathroom, heels flying and ran into someone just outside the door. "Fwap!" I muttered as my nose started bleeding again. Sure, the person didn't have as hard and muscular of a chest as Riddle did, but something was still THERE!  
  
Okay, pause, I'm going to put what I say into translation after I say it, so you can fully grip the current situation at hand. Press stop, rewind, then play. Thank you.  
  
"Myrtle! Myrtle! MYRTLE!" I shouted as I scrambled out of the bathroom, heels flying, and ran into someone just outside the door. "Fwap!" (crap!) I muttered as my nose started bleeding again. Sure, the person didn't have as hard and muscular of a chest as Riddle did, but something was still THERE! "Pepole! Wanch where you'we gowin!" (People! Watch where you're going!) I shouted, holding my nose and wishing for a handkerchief or a Kleenex at the moment.  
  
Now that I thought about it, ANYTHING would be good when you're standing naked with a towel around you and you're nose is bleeding.  
  
But this I didn't notice. Oh no. What I noticed was that the girl I had run into looked almost exactly like me, except she was smaller, more curvaceous, and her hair was in waves of blood red. That, and her eyes were the saddest thing I had seen in a long time. They were beautiful, all blue and sapphire, but in their depths twirled secrets unheard and sorrows of tortures not yet thought of. Not even Nero or Caligula could have done a better job on this young woman.  
  
"Hello, Mo. . .Ginny." the young woman said, except for one thing.  
  
Her lips didn't move.  
  
As in: not one inch, not one centimeter, not even a freaking MILIMETER! I mean, either she was a heck of a great ventriloquist or I was imagining things. Seeing as how I was standing with my nose bleeding and all just a towel holding me back from showing the whole world my wonderful (note the sarcasm) body beneath, I decided it was the latter.  
  
"Wook, I'm MOT in da mood for lessening to sompden you've gotta day! I deed a handkedif!" I said slowly, trying to make what I was saying sound reasonably like the native language of English. It wasn't working too well, let me tell you. (Look, I'm NOT in the mood for listening to something you've got to say! I need a handkerchief!)  
  
The girl made a slight smile but that was enough to show me just how beautiful she was. Her smile, it seemed, lit up the whole room and every shadow in my mind seemed to banish at the sight of it. Even more so, her face and eyes seemed to glow from the exercise of it all. "Shush, Ginny. You probably think I'm so hallucination or something of your mind considering that you're standing there naked except for a towel on and your nose is bleeding and you just woke up next to fa. . .Tom Riddle." she murmured.  
  
I wasn't about to say that was EXACTLY what I was thinking.  
  
"But you've got to listen to me. You're decisions with your relationship with Tom Riddle will change things. Depending which way you go, you'll either murder billions of people in a war that your granddaughter will end shortly after the Dark Lord's death, OR you'll be miserable forever, marry a man three years later, and have about a dozen children, all of which become notorious thieves, robbers, such and such and kill yourself when you are about forty-something years old. But, the last way isn't so bad because then you don't kill anyone, right?" she said, her lips unmoving as the smile disappeared within the depths of her words. The room seemed to darken again.  
  
I'm not going to say that I'm a greedy person, because I'm not, but choice number one was looking REALLY nice considering the alternative. "Wady! How dan you ask fee to make dis choice when I don't dow how it wilk thurn dout? I don't deeven dow who you awe!" I shouted, throwing up my hands. Fatal mistake, I realized a few minutes later, when the towel dropped down and revealed me. Hastily, I grabbed it back up and wrapped it around myself. (Lady! How can you ask me to make this choice when I don't know how it will turn out? I don't even know who you are!)  
  
A laugh that reminded me of wedding bells chorused into this dramatic symphony and I nearly dropped the towel again in shock. How did she DO that? I mean, she didn't move a muscle and yet she just LAUGHED! It was then and there that I decided I would get some lessons on ventriloquism and figure all this out using the simple powers of logic and deduction.  
  
"I have faith in you, Ginny." She said calmly and then she suddenly disappeared with a flash of red and silver.  
  
I rubbed my eyes with my right hand, holding the towel up with my left, and muttered, "Da day isn't gowin to bee andy good ader dat epidode." (The day isn't going to be any good after THAT episode.)  
  
I walked back to the bathroom, trying to grasp the situation at hand but my mind wouldn't focus. First, I knew, I had to get rid of this nosebleed. I mean, I couldn't take the fast and easy way out because I did NOT want to stick my wand up my nose and whirl it all around, so I would have to take the muggle way. My eyes roved the counter of the Ravenclaw bathroom as I strived to find a simple handkerchief but none could be found. Wondering what kind of world I was in, I rummaged through the girl's supplies and repeatedly told myself in a strange voice that I wasn't stealing, I was just borrowing and not giving back. Besides, why would anyone want a handkerchief after all my blood and snot was on it? There is no logical reason. Unless they were going to make a polyjuice potion, which everyone knew was against rules so no one would try it. (Little did _I_ know. . .)  
  
Either way, I found a handkerchief with a big blue lily on it, stuck my nose in it, and watched as it filled up with blood. (A/N: okay, random comment, but did anyone here know that Attila the Hun died on his wedding night in January because of a nosebleed? Sorry, just had to ask.)  
  
Deciding things weren't about to get any better than they were, I blew my nose a few times, watching as the flow increased then decreased slightly and finally stopped growing absolutely. The lily itself was no longer blue but instead an interesting purple color maligned with some spots of black. I sighed as I thought, great, another beautiful flower lost. Just like the rose on Riddle's.  
  
Realizing that I was staring at the handkerchief too long and thinking depressing thoughts about flowers and blood, I decided I needed to do something more. . .Normal. Gallantly, I walked up to the drawers that held my stuff and started to get dressed. I pulled on a regular skirt that came to my knees in black and a red sweater with a phoenix on the back. White socks came next, followed by black shoes. I looked, in essence, like a virgin schoolgirl. Which I was. But something was wrong. I looked. . .  
  
Almost too. . .  
  
Booky.  
  
I mean, Hermione, with her bushy brown hair and hazel eyes would have been able to pull it off nicely because, well, she was a booky person. Me, oh no, definitely not. On occasion, I would get the studying gout, but more often than not I had already memorized the material from class and therefore wouldn't have to worry about it all. And as much as I respected the people who were booky types and liked to waste, erm, spend most of their time studying things they would never use, I didn't want to look the part.  
  
Looking at the dresses that were my only other option for a wardrobe in this case and the fact that there were only three other exact uniforms like this one, I decided I'd stick with the booky look and walked out of the room.  
  
Again, I ran into someone. Again, everyone got blurry. Amazingly, my nose didn't bleed this time. Not even one drop. Instead, I rubbed it, blinking rapidly and ready to shout at whoever had done the job of nearly making me bleed again. Mind you, I wasn't exactly in the mood to talk to anyone since I had my little rough-and-tough verbal vocab show-off with Mina in the Slytherin Common Room. But hey! If Myrtle, my only true friend at the moment, wanted to chat and interrogate the future girl, let it be. Right?  
  
Wrong!  
  
It turns out the person I had run into was Juniper's little sister, Hyacinth. Her eyes were shocked at my skin tone and she stared at me with a puzzled expression. She hadn't moved one inch from her spot, which either meant that she was super strong, or that I weighed less than I thought I did and hadn't been carrying that much momentum to bowl her over. Either way, I was grateful that I hadn't nearly killed her since she was so small.  
  
Hyacinth Ambrose saw me, sat down on the couch of the Ravenclaw Common Room, smiled shyly, and patted the seat next to her. "Sit, Virginia, please," she said, her amethyst eyes glittering. I blinked, slightly shocked yet again. Well, that and my nose was still pulsing from the abuse it seemed to be taking today.  
  
I obeyed, sitting on the couch next to her and looking at the table in front of me. On it were scribbles and swirls of writing as well as the inlaid design that was NOT supposed to be covered up by those said scribbles and swirls but was. "Please, call me Ginny." I said quickly and watched as the worn girl traced one of the veins that were marked in the wood.  
  
"Yes, Ginny," she said, "I'd like to talk to you about certain things." She looked at me beneath curling eyelashes of snowfall and I realized that those purple eyes were looking into my soul, not into my eyes themselves. I saw myself mirrored there, knowing that I wasn't about to be judged, knowing that here I could be myself and she wouldn't pass judgment even then. I realized that as I stared into those wide, cat-like amethyst eyes, she knew something that no one else did. She had a secret and she was going to tell me what it was.  
  
I nodded, still swept away in the current of the lavender waters of her eyes and tried to remember to breathe. Once more the feeling of no sense of judgment passed over me and I realized that in this, she would be the person hearing my case and never passing it on to another.  
  
"Speak with me, Ginny. Tell me what your home is like." She murmured and I heard the high-pitched voice that was not yet a woman's, "I know that you are an orphan. That your brothers, six of them was it? Yes, six, all died as did your parents. I know that they compared you often to Mr. Riddle and I know that you are not what you seem. I know that you will live long and dream shortly. I know that you sleep at night with one light on because you are afraid of what the darkness will hide from you within its depths. I also know that something very tragic happened to you when you were my age. But the whole story itself. That, I fear, I don't know." She said, her amethyst eyes hypnotizing me and driving me to respond.  
  
I hesitated, unwilling to tell this child the horrors of a ten-year-old still crouching and screaming in my soul. The one that I had tossed away to fate's demise when I had left the Chamber of Secrets and Tom Riddle the Mad behind. But, I realized, even that child that I had left behind hadn't seen the light in so long. Maybe it was time to show her the window.  
  
"I once was a young girl of dreams and fantasies. One that dreamed of being an angel, pure and beautiful. Like all girls did. Except I had more of a dream than that. I wanted to be loved and not forgotten. To be. . .thought of as more than just the seventh child of a poor couple. I supposed I was ambitious." I smiled tenderly at her, and my fingers joined hers as they traced the engraved lies on the table.  
  
"Harry + Lorna 4ever" stuck out to me, just as "Rachel + John" did. More of "Taylor + John" as well, assuming that Taylor was a girl. There was one though, small and engraved with red ink that was fading, that caught my eye the most.  
  
"Love comes to those who want it on silver wings." I read in my mind.  
  
Hyacinth's purple eyes followed mine and she said, "That is a truth. But the person who wrote it was lying. Three days later, her boyfriend broke up with her. She tried to kill herself later on, but her parents stopped her. But, she's not important. Look at the one beneath it, take comfort in that."  
  
My blue eyes skipped down and hidden, on the very edge and drilling into the side of the table, I saw another little proverb from some hopeless girl. "Love destroys the heart before it heals it, just as time destroys before it heals."  
  
Squinting a bit more as I was thinking about it, I read it again and again, trying to understand the meaning. "I. . .I thought love healed but didn't destroy. That's practically the whole point of love."  
  
Hyacinth shook her head. "I will tell you a story that I heard once. I won't tell you the source, because you wouldn't believe it if I tried to tell you who said it. I'll just say it and get it over with. The story, as it goes, was made back in the time of the kings and gods. There was a king once, whose heart was coated with lead. When he was twenty-seven, the king said that any woman who could please him would become his queen. However, if they did not, he would have them killed by morning.  
  
"Now several women came and each tried to please the king, young and old, rich and poor, they came. But no one could ever please him and thus one hundred women died each week." Hyacinth whispered to me. My mouth, I swear, was hanging wide open and attracting flies. What a horrible man! "Meanwhile, in the streets, there lived this beggar woman whose talent was storytelling. Everyday, she would sit on the streets and tell stories to earn money and never did she give herself to earn such praise.  
  
"This woman heard the king's decree and also learned that a cousin of hers, young and beautiful, was going to try to soften the king's heart towards herself. However, the beggar woman knew her cousin well enough to know that even she would fail and decided to step up in her place.  
  
"So when the next replacement for a one-day queen, as the people had started to call them, began, the beggar woman stepped into line and declared herself ready to be killed. Her family, also poor, mourned her though she still drew breath and she entered the Harem of the king.  
  
"After a month of waiting, the beggar woman, dressed now in fine silks, perfume, and paints, began to relax. The king had not called her yet and the other women around her were slowly disappearing. Though it hurt her to see the women she had lived with in such a place fade away, she drudged on her weary road in the palace life and told stories to calm the others when they went into hysterics.  
  
"One day, all the other women were gone, and the king choose the beggar woman. She rose, ready to accept him and went into his bedchamber. Lightly, he pushed her upon the bed but she raised a hand. 'No,' she said, 'I'll not please you that way until I'm wed and properly endowed. Instead, I wish to tell you a story.' And the king stood confused.  
  
"Inwardly, the king thought, 'This woman is a fool above all others,' but his heart was crying tears of lead at what she was saying, for it was so long since it had heard a story and it could tell that she was a wonderful storyteller. So the king sat down, eyes icy, and listened to the beggar woman's story.  
  
"As the night drew on, and the story dove into its prologue, and first section, the woman knew the king was enraptured by her storytelling and suddenly ended it. 'This is all for tonight, king,' she murmured for the king was tired and falling asleep on the bed next to her, 'I'll finish it for you tomorrow.' And so she became the first woman to make it past one night with the king.  
  
"The next day, the king summoned her to his bedchamber, and again, she told the next part of the story. But once again, she left it at a crucial part, both to keep her audience hooked and to keep herself alive. This continued for a week or so, till finally the king realized, 'My gods, I've fallen in love with this woman. At night, I believe that I crave her stories but what I truly desire is she herself.' The king mourned the fact that he had finally stooped so low as to fall in love with such a woman as she, yet he had not yet touched her in any way, shape or form and was unsure of her love towards him. So that night, when he summoned her to his chamber and she came willingly, he didn't touch her and sat farther away from her than ever. She seemed not to notice and continued with the story before. Inside, his heart broke for that night she didn't confess anything towards him other than the stories she had heard and then headed off for bed."  
  
I stared at her as she swallowed thickly and coughed a bit, her thin shoulders moving as if they had wings attached to them. "Well, what happens next?" I asked urgently.  
  
Hyacinth, however, wasn't listening to me at the present moment. Instead, she was looking behind me and slightly to the left. I hesitated and then said, "Mina's right behind me, isn't she?"  
  
The white-blonde haired girl nodded, swallowed thickly again, and then scampered off. (A/N: I can't take this anymore. But don't you think that scamper is a cute word? It makes me think of puppies . . .and cute little paw prints. *Sighs* Okay, sorry, just . . .yeah, I'm weird.)  
  
Again, pause for my own commentary.  
  
You know those people that think they are all that, because, well, they are. That's the type of person Mina is. I mean, not only is she FRENCH, but, she's got an ego. And by an ego, I mean an EGO. The kind of thing you think of when you hear the word: jocks! Or: cheerleaders! Yeah, that thing. Well, I learned three things this day.  
  
One: Never, ever, ever, EVER tell a French person that they sound like a dying weasel and assume that those perfectly soft, well-made hands will NOT damage your face.  
  
Second: Long hair is really bad in a fight. Always, ALWAYS (I can't stress this point enough) ALWAYS, put your hair up before you decide to go chasing waterfalls and try to get shot.  
  
Third: Spiffy reminds me of fluffy cheddar cheese for some odd reason.  
  
Right, back on with the story.  
  
I whirled around, which was nearly impossible with my hair under my bum the way it was, and glared at her. "Mina!" I shouted, "What a _pleasant_ surprise! Honestly I thought you'd run crying to your room, you overgrown bush." I smiled slightly as she turned slightly red.  
  
"Look, Rushton," she said, "I said I'm going to get you back, yes?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Well, don't take my words lightly. We Silverglasses are great at revenge and I just want to let you know that you'd best watch your back. Tom can't protect you forever. Oh, and, by the way, Myrtle is such a wonderful person to . . .what's that word? Oh yes, bash into humiliation. Simply amazing really. And her voice reaches such high heights when she's upset you know." Mina smirked a bit and for a moment, I thought Tom and she could have been brother and sister.  
  
Anger flaring up in me, I pressed my luck beyond the book pages and over the dresser's edge to land splat on the floor. "Well, at least Myrtle doesn't sound like a dying weasel like you Silverglasses are so fond of doing when you speak." I smiled sweetly at her for a brief moment and then got up to walk away.  
  
However, you know how I have long hair, right? Yeah, well, Mina noticed this too. Before I could do anything about it, she gripped my hair, pulled me back hard enough to send me spiraling on a one-course crash test and started ripping at me with her nails. I mean, this woman must have had some serious case of PMS; she was ripping at me that hard. It was then, with two of Mina's cronies ushering everyone outside eagerly to go "get the head of my house" (I would snort, but its unladylike because, well, people just don't go get a head of house at Hogwarts. Oh no, they WATCH the fight. They ENJOY the fight. So bear that in mind.), that the ultimate shame was conducted amongst us during that fight. One that I would never forget because it made me cry and lose most, if not all, my self-esteem that day.  
  
I'll admit that I was fighting pretty hard. After all, who WOULD want their face scratched into ribbons by a puffed up French poodle like her? Not me that was for certain! So I kicked, I punched, and I grasped and yanked at whatever I possibly could that was in my reach. However, Mina must have done something over the summer because she was fighting and keeping herself out of my reach pretty well for a lying, conniving loser like her.  
  
Another thing during this fight, remember the hair comment earlier? About how I said that you should always, always, always, ALWAYS keep long hair up during a fight? Well, that just now steps into play. And it seems that the black-haired wench knew that my hair was pretty well attached to my head too because one of her cronies handed her a knife while the other smacked me so hard as to daze me for a few moments. Hands free, they held me down.  
  
Slowly, emerald eyes glimmering with triumph, Mina lowered the knife to a scant few centimeters above the pale flesh of my neck and I felt a tremor of terror, like the birth of an earthquake, flood over my body. It spread quickly, like a plague going through Egypt in the time of the pharaohs, and ended just as soon as my daze did and I started to struggle again. Whilst I was still held in thrall by Mina's cronies, whilst I was still trapped in that daze that I regret to this day, Mina whispered, "I'm going to get back on you now, mademoiselle, because of what you said about me and what you implied for me." She traced the knife's point up my cheek, not slicing but not exactly removing it either, and muttered, "I take away what glory you have, fleur de rouge. And what beauty you have left." With that said, she lifted it up gently, and started hacking and hacking with brutal cuts that one could only imagine a fisherman's wife making at the heads of the victims her husband had caught without any sense of caution or gentleness.  
  
It was only after Mina's cronies stepped back to admire their mistress's work that I realized my head felt a lot lighter than it had before. Mina tossed me aside like I was an apple she had thought ripe but wasn't quite for her tastes and stood up, brushing long strands of blood red off her clothes. "Well, Rushton, tu suis ne les fleur de rouge." She smirked and again I thought of Riddle and she being like twins. Her hand lifted slowly and in her grasp I recognized the red mane that had once been on my head, like rose blood in the hands of a snow demon. She then added, "Well, not anymore anyway. Take care, les fleur de rouge. I'll come to harvest my roses some other day."  
  
It was that moment that I realized that not only was my head a lot lighter than before, but also the cut she had given me ended at the point just above my ears in a ragged boy's cut.  
  
It was perhaps the most humiliating thing in my life.  
  
My hair, as my mother had pointed out, was the most attractive thing about me. In long, straight locks it hung, like curtains framing the bright blue windows of my soul that were set in a room of pale white. I had been growing it out forever, or at least ever since the Tom Riddle Incident in first year, and just when it reached the goal of my knees, she had cut it. I didn't know what she was going to do with my hair. I just knew that I hated her now.  
  
She had STOLEN my HAIR, damnit!  
  
MY HAIR!  
  
Not hers. Not Juniper's. Not Lorna's. To hell, not Riddle's.  
  
MINE!  
  
Let me spell that out for you: M-I-N-E! MINE!!!!  
  
Oh, this totally meant war. Mina Silverass was about to get herself a big, big surprise day dedicated just solely to her. Well, at least humiliating her to bits and pieces of hellish glory that would be mine.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
Juniper was traveling the lonely corridors of Hogwarts on Sunday, her mind set back to what had happened last night when she saw Luca and Richard Potter running like a demon possessed man was setting off after them.  
  
"Run, Juniper!" Richard shouted.  
  
"Save yourself while you can!" Luca added as he sprinted down the corridor.  
  
It was then that she saw Tom, running after them, and then she KNEW that a demon-possessed man really WAS chasing them after. Unfazed and totally bored with the whole account, she muttered, "Good Morning, Tom," as the youth ran past and kept on walking.  
  
"Morning, Juniper!" he shouted back at her as he jumped up the stairs after the two pranksters, his skin an odd shade of color as he did so.  
  
As soon as he was gone and bounding after the two again, Juniper shook her head, "This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder." She said and set off towards the Ravenclaw Common Room to visit Hyacinth.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
Lorna and Jack were in the library, studying dutifully and trying their hardest NOT to make paper airplanes and crude jokes behind the librarian's back. However, this was hard to do when they were sending her off for thousands of books at a time and then dismissing them all like it was no body's business.  
  
Lorna herself was trying to do a report on Psychology of the Trollish Mind while Jack was just, well, being Jack.  
  
"So," she said, plopping her feet on the table in front of her and keeping a neutral tone in her voice. The librarian had been sent off for some unknown book about newts and heffalumps for Jack's unending amusement so the two were reasonably alone. "What do you think about the newbie?" she asked, her hazel eyes perfectly level with Jack's own blue ones.  
  
He swallowed thickly, well aware that his own feet were right next to hers and he was sitting before one of the most wanted girls in Hogwarts itself. "Well, um, I think that, err . . .that is to say, I, um . . .well . . .The fact of the matter is . . ." Suddenly his eyes found themselves locked onto Lorna Gahlin's nice chest and he lost his train of thought. Swallowing hard again to get past the lump in his throat, he ripped his eyes away from the expanse of shirt he had just been observing very well and said, "Um . . .Wh-what was the question again?"  
  
Lorna rolled her eyes. "I asked what you thought about the newbie?" she said, her hands making a gesture that happened to draw his eyes back to her chest again and distract him all the more.  
  
"Um . . . Ginny is . . . She's, um . . .Nice hair . . .and. . . Voice . . . good," He suddenly saw something interrupting his stare at Lorna's breasts and realized it was her hand pointed upwards towards her face.  
  
"Hello! Jack! My face is here, not down there. My eyes are where you should be looking, not my breasts, you oversized hormone!" she said loudly just as the librarian walked by and shot them a strange look. "Um . . .The book was staring at me meanly," Lorna said weakly and gave a soft smile at the librarian, who sniffed delicately, handed yet another book to Lorna, and then walked away before the young girl could place another order. "Geez," Lorna grumbled, "Someone must've walked on her back today . . .What an old coot . . ." She glared at the librarian's retreating back then looked back at Jack. "So, what do you think about the newbie? This time, don't look at my chest or I WILL walk out of here and leave you to suffer on your own." She glared at him this time and he knew she meant it.  
  
"Well, erm . . ." he began again.  
  
Jack Weasley was NOT having a good day.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
I sat up, feeling my head, as tears threatened to spill over my eyelids like someone whose filled a glass with too much water. I didn't want to cry in front of Mina. Not ever. She was a horrible person. Too mean for her own good and now she'd cut my blasted hair!  
  
Instead, I forced myself to smile at Mina, which must've taken her a bit by surprise because, well, she DID back up a step or two. "Thank you, Mina!" I said, noting that she winced rather interestingly when I used her first name with such a honey-sweet tone of voice, "I was going to get it cut later on in the year but I guess its now or never. Perfectly done as well."  
  
Perfectly done, my arse! The ends were jagged now, not their straight, billboard boring selves. It looked like I was trying to be a punk or some muggle imitator that they have so many of. Now, with the great J.Lo look on my skin, and my shorn hair, I looked like some . . .red headed weasel.  
  
Mina stared at me as I fiddled with my hair for a few moments, then did a nice, French about-face and stomped out of the room. Not one to miss the chance, I shouted after her, "Remember, Silverglass! Ladies DON'T stomp!" I heard the stomping stop just one moment, then someone let out an animalistic howl of agony and ran off.  
  
Victory is a bittersweet taste, is all I can tell you.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
Juniper was entering through the portrait when she saw Mina and her two beautiful, but rather sadistic, cronies exit from it first. "I can't believe her! Telling me, ME of all people, how to walk! We've got to do something more to hurt her," Mina was muttering furiously.  
  
At this point, Juniper Ambrose had already heard enough. She was already sprinting to the Common Room of the Ravenclaws when she saw long locks of red hair and feared the worst. What exactly had Mina Silverglass and those two girls done to Ginny? She knew how the French were with their pride and how beauty was important to them almost above all else, but would they go so far as to strip Ginny of the beauty that was purely hers and no one else's?  
  
"This IS Mina Silverglass I'm thinking of," Juniper mumbled to herself and then added, "Hell yeah, she'd do that one to Ginny!" She stopped at the opening of the archway into the Common Room trying to gather her wits about her, then walked through and gasped.  
  
Ginny.  
  
Her hair.  
  
Gone.  
  
No, just cut.  
  
To a boy's cut.  
  
Oh unholy gods.  
  
"GINNY!" Juniper said and suddenly saw that the young girl was crying and touching her poor, short locks forlornly. "What happened?"  
  
"I...Mina...she.... and the knife.... Juniper! I thought she was going to cut my throat!" she shouted and hugged the albino girl tightly. "All I did was make fun of her in the Slytherin Common Room, and then she found out how to get up here somehow, and she did. And then her people made everyone else leave when we were fighting and the brown-haired girl . . ."  
  
"Clare," Juniper supplied.  
  
"Yes, Clare, she tossed Mina a knife and the blonde girl—"  
  
"Amber."  
  
"Amber, WHATEVER! Juniper! I don't care about their names. I'm just trying to get back at them now." Ginny shouted and flailed around, not knowing what to do. Soon enough she was pacing up and down the length of the Common Room with nervous tension radiating off her form. "Amber and Clare then trapped me and held me while Mina played with the knife and then suddenly cut my hair. After humiliating me, they left me." Suddenly something sparked in Ginny's eyes. "Are...Are the other Ravenclaws coming up yet, Juniper?"  
  
Juniper shook her head. "No, I think they are more interested in the double-trouble of Marie Antoinette herself." She muttered, looking in space and very angry, "May the gods behead that woman and let her eat so much cake that she grows fat and ugly." She cursed.  
  
Ginny jumped at the curse and hatred in Juniper's voice.  
  
"Don't say that! Juniper, honestly, that's so negative." She said, crossing to the couch and sitting down. It was strange not having her hair weigh her down and get underneath her so that she couldn't move her head certain ways.  
  
The beauty sighed. "I know, but I just wish it were . . ."  
  
"That would deprive me of my vengeance if the gods did that. Honestly, think about your friends first before you go shouting curses like that." Ginny said with a smile playing lightly around her lips. The other girl laughed at the statement and sat down next to Ginny.  
  
"Do you really believe that we are friends, Ginny?" Juniper asked, true curiosity and a need for someone other than Lorna Gahlin as her companion in mischievous and intelligent deeds. Her cerulean eyes pierced Ginny's own icy blue ones.  
  
"Of course. And if we aren't now than, by golly, we will be later. I'm not about to let the first person, besides the culprit, to see me slandered this way to get out of my net!" she said, slamming her small, pale fist on the table in anger and determination.  
  
One of the albino's eyebrows rose. "Your net?" she asked, "What net?"  
  
Ginny smiled again, her hand reached up to touch her locks of blood red as if checking to make sure she still had some hair left period. "My net of friendship. Haven't pulled in any great catches lately except for a golden fish, but I think I've found one made of pure silver and lapis lazuli this time," she said and then reached out a hand to Juniper. "Friends?"  
  
Another hand reached out to clasp hers. "Forever," Juniper murmured and smiled back at Ginny. It was one of those moments that no one wants to interrupt, because if they do, they know they must return to the horrid place we call reality. But the girls held onto each other as best they could and then whispered in unison, "Friends forever." And let go slowly.  
  
"Right, well," Ginny said, "I'm starving! Let's go eat something!"  
  
Juniper shook her head, causing wavy strands of silky white to fall in front of her face. Abashed, she took one hand, pushed them back and then grinned reassuringly at Ginny. "No, first we have to fix the mess on your head that Mina calls a French Poodle Cut," Juniper joked, "I'll go get a curler, some gel, and a comb and be right back. You just...wash your hair under the sink to get some of the leftover pieces off. That'll help when it comes time to fix it." Miss Ambrose smiled again at Ginny and then rushed downstairs.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
When Juniper left, I can't say that everything was all right, because it wasn't. I mean, I just got the shortest haircut in my life besides the time when I was three and the Demi Moore look was the best thing on the street. Even then, my brothers teased me unmercifully about it till Mother heard them calling me a 'Mudblood hair lover' and told them that Mudblood not only meant Muggle, but it was also the cruelest thing you could call someone in the whole world. My brothers that I actually saw at the time, which would be Ron, Fred and George, and Percy, didn't truly know the meaning of it, but had heard Lucius Malfoy say it to his son about the Potter family a lot. Therefore, because Potter = good in their mind, Mudblood was a good thing to say.  
  
Boy, were they wrong.  
  
Mother must've swelled up ten times her size, plus a few decimals, when she shouted at them and chased them around the house to give each boy fifteen spankings each. I just sat on a perilous looking stool and tried not to laugh at the expressions of abrupt horror on each little boy's face.  
  
But this time, the Demi Moore cut I had when I was three didn't really work with the horror and shock I was feeling now. There was no Mother, for me, to tell me that my hair looked fine and what the other kids were saying was a big lie to cover up the fact that they too wanted cuts all like mine. There was no Mother to tousle my hair as I walked by and tell me that I looked like a fairy princess stepped out of a fairy tale.  
  
No, I had Juniper, Lorna, Myrtle, Tom, Luca, Richard, and Jack to tell me what I looked like and hopefully reassure me. Knowing Tom, though, it wasn't a definite. He might just decide to play a Benedict Arnold on me and side with Mina to deliver the ultimate blow of humiliation.  
  
In either case, I decided, I'd fight for my pride tooth-and-nail till one of us caved in and let the other go with more of their pride. Preferably that person would be me.  
  
I ran up the steps to the Ravenclaw girls' bedroom and stumbled into the bathroom, not willing to meet the abiding horror that would no doubt await me. The mirror was soon in front of me and I had to cast my eyes into this desolate play that had no audience because it was so horrible. My azure eyes looked up and out, to catch sight of a face framed by short hair that went to the tips of the girl's ears and was totally a boy's bowl cut. I looked like a fairy princess who got mistaken for a sheep and got sheared instead of trimmed around the edges.  
  
Aka: I looked horrible.  
  
Unwillingly, I lowered my head under the sink, let the water run over my gruesome hair that could have even made Medusa stop in her tracks of stone, and ran my hands through what was left to run my hands through. I watched as more pieces of my tarnished hair dismally scarred the snowy porcelain beneath me and tired not to cry again. It was just hair, after all, right?  
  
It was at that time that something cold and wet hit my ankle and I looked down to see Fenrir. He looked back at me with those ice-blue eyes that were so much like ice as to be white and whimpered. "Mommy, are you okay?" he asked slowly, nuzzling my hand when I was lowered on my knees before him.  
  
"No, Fenrir, I don't think I am. My pride just went down the drain today at," I paused to check my watch, "Eleven forty-five and six seconds today." I was amazed, just slightly, that my watch still worked. I mean, Harry Potter's watch stopped all the time, which started a lot of inside jokes between him and I whenever we were sitting on the train together.  
  
*Flashback time!!! (You all can sue me later, I know you guys don't like these...)*  
  
I looked out the window, seeing a mess of green and misty hills. A tree would flash by, solemnly, as if it were some big city and Harry and I were stuck in the middle of a traffic jam when everyone was in hyper speed. Sometimes a black shape would move by and I'd jump, ready to chase away a dementor with my wand. But Harry would tick-tock his fingers accusingly and I'd sit back, trying to reclaim sanity.  
  
I'd just gotten back from Los Angeles three weeks ago due to a terrible incident. My father had taken me because a witch had accidentally set off a spell and it caused her neighbors kitchen appliances to go haywire. The only reason I was tagging along was because I happened to be in the area when Dad was told this and he decided that I couldn't be left to my own devices.  
  
Fathers these days . . .  
  
Tearing my eyes away from the window, I looked at Harry, who, for some unknown reason, was looking at me instead of outside. He turned red when he saw that I'd noticed his stare and turned his green gaze to the outside of the window, tracing an invisible pattern that I had yet to see in any adventure I might have.  
  
"What time is it?" I asked him, shifting in my seat. My bum had gone numb again. All down the left side this time. Really annoying, truly. If Harry noticed that I was shifting more in my seat than usual, he gave no sign of it. Instead, his emerald eyes gazed at his watch.  
  
"One o'clock on the dot." He said, tapping the glassy surface of the item and then looking back out the window.  
  
I tapped my own flesh on the window repeatedly, banging my head in boredom. The sixteen-year-old's hand came up, stopped my head from any further pain by placing itself there to be rammed instead of the glass and said, "You know, you kill five brain cells every time you hit yourself like that."  
  
"Well, at least my brain won't be bored. Oh no, it will just cease to exist!" I yelped and tossed my hands into the air. "This is like a stupid torture chamber. The food cart already went by, I'm full, I can't sleep worth anything, and we've got six hours left on this stupid choo-choo train. This is like Dante's Inferno! Except without the Inferno!" I shouted and started pacing the cabin.  
  
"What time is it now?" I asked him, glancing up to see his jade eyes piercing my form with worry and amusement.  
  
"One o'clock on the dot."  
  
"No, seriously, what time is it now?"  
  
"It's one o'clock on the dot."  
  
"HARRY! April Fool's day is OVER! Tell me what time it is really," I yelled, stomping over to him.  
  
"It's one o'clock," he said, jumping up too, fearful that I might just be angry. If my blazing eyes were any hint though, he didn't have to be afraid. He just had to move quickly unless he wanted to get smashed into a bloody pulp.  
  
"Liar!" I hurled at him and tossed myself towards his arm, trying to see the watch.  
  
"Ginny, NO! Get off me! Ginny! Stop it! OUCH, that's my arm you're biting!" He started to hit me on the back but I was determined to see the watch so I kept fighting. Soon enough, we were in a brawl in the cabin just to see what time it was. Finally, his fingers tickling me, and my fist bashing into his chest, I caught a glimmer of the watch hand and stopped. Feeling me stop with my own hits, he ceased his.  
  
"Hey.... It's one o'clock on the dot..."I muttered, "Okay, sorry, Harry."  
  
He rubbed his nose. "Sorry is not about to heal my nose of this damnable nosebleed you just gave out." He grumbled, "Not to mention my glasses might be more than disturbed."  
  
"Oh hush. They didn't look good on you anyway," I chided, rolling my eyes. "You look cuter when you're helpless anyway." He rolled his eyes back.  
  
"Thanks, Ginny. I love you too."  
  
"Anytime, Harry, anytime." I grinned at him and he responded by grinning back. Before I could stop myself, I found my feet moving closer to him and his moving closer to mine before I suddenly realized what the heck I was doing and stopped. Placing a hand on his chest, I smiled sadly. "Sorry, Harry, but no thanks."  
  
*End flashback*  
  
"What time is it now, Harry?" I whispered into the mirror, looking at my sodden locks of blood red. Suddenly, an ache to be home and in my family's arms came back to me, and I wished with all my soul that I could be wrapped up in the blankets my Mother had sewn, with her knitted sweaters on my body with their large "G's", and a cup of hot tea with lemon in my hand. I wanted to be teased by my brothers again and to flirt with some boys at our school. I wanted to go see Charlie and Bill again and see the dragons and the pyramids. I wanted..... I wanted....  
  
I wanted to be home and loved again.  
  
*~~*~~*  
  
River-Star2: Okay, I forgot what the last six pages were about. So, its not a full thirty anymore. But, hey! I came close, yeah? I know this was a boring chapter. I'll try harder. Actually, next time there will be another plot item added and another mystery solved. So stay tuned to: Twist of Fate! *Smiles* Thanks for all your support, girls and guys. *Hums a song by Dashboard Confessional called "Hands Down"* 


	20. Hiya Again

Yo, ya'll. (Again, I'm not from the south. I'm perfectly normal snort, cough to cover up laughing and from the Midwest, which is nowhere land.) Anyway, back to my main reason. Once again, my computer has been tampered with and I accuse my uncle of doing so. I've lost everything. But no worries! I didn't like the beginning to the next chapter anyway; I thought it was rather suckey. Hence, I'm rewriting it. Mostly because I don't have a choice in the matter. But, hey! I'm only a mortal, what can I do? I suspect the reason that my uncle fiddled with my files and computer is because we've been having rampant storms over the weeks. (Five rainy days in a row. Either God was holding it a long time, or he's forgotten the covenant with Noah, in which case, I'm leaving to go to the Moon, see ya there!) And there have been lots of tornadoes. In seven states alone, I think, there were over two hundred of them. Said to be effects of global warming. shrugs You know, people always complain about global warming, but do they actually do something about it, NO! They just sit on their lazy bums and expect someone else to do it for them. Well, I'll not have it! I'm going to do something! I'm going to stop my portion of global warming and try not to get drowned to death in my own home!  
I just have to figure out how, as I don't drive a car or anything. Curse being born in 1989... grumbles Anyway, another question for all of you: Do you know any lyrics that might go well with this story? I've been looking through my Trapt, Evanesence, Avril, and Linkin Park cds and haven't found much luck. Well, no, I take that back. Avril's pretty good. I can really relate to Slipped Away. I'll post the lyrics for ya'll so you can see what the heck I'm talking about.  
  
River-Star2  
  
Slipped Away (by Avril Lavigne)  
  
I miss you Miss you so bad I don't forget you Oh, it's so sad I hope you can hear me I remember it clearly  
  
The day You slipped away Was the day I found it won't be the same Oh  
  
I didn't get around to kiss you Goodbye on the hand I wish I could see you again I know that I can't Oh, I hope you can hear me Cuz I remember it clearly  
  
The day You slipped away Was the day I found it won't be the same Oh  
  
I've had my wake-up Won't you wake up? I keep asking why And I can't take it It wasn't fake it It happened You passed by  
  
Now you're gone Now you're gone There you go There you go Somewhere I can't bring you back  
  
Now you're gone Now you're gone There you go There you go Somewhere You're not coming back  
  
The day You slipped away Was the day I found it won't be the same No  
  
The day You slipped away Was the day I found it won't be the same Oh  
  
Na na Na na na na na I miss you  
  
(I'm not going to put all the little comments this time around because there's a lot more than I expected and uncle telling me to pack it up. However, I promise in the next chapter that I WILL give you all two stars for sticking by me through this time period lapses deals and at least three to four sentences of comments. I know you all would really have me get to the story and just shut up about what I think of your comments, but I think I can write better to please if I know WHO I'm writing to and all. If you all ever want to email me: t1westearthlink.net is my email. Or lionesscub04yahoo.com is another one that I conjured up when I was bored. Use whichever one you all want to email me. ) Thanks to:  
  
Katrina Tonak  
  
Sillydilly  
  
SchaffyTaffy 15 (Hey, Liz, I'm Riv. I ought to just let you have my email, lol. Hey, I'm a sophmore now! cheers and dances around But I have an inkling of a feeling that I didn't do so hot on the exams. --U Go figure. I study for most of my day for those things and they whoop me in the bum, not the other way around. Shucks... Email is t1westearthlink.net if you ever want to talk.)  
  
Taylor   
  
Setanaye (No worries about being new to the fold. I had no idea there was a fold, lol. But, yeah, glad to have you aboard! Hope you like the rest of it, when I get it up. I always like to hear other people's ideas for my stories, so dare to share what you think, I'm always open to new ideas.)  
  
Nergal  
  
ecentric  
  
orligurl13 (Nymeria is Ginny's daughter by Tom, yes. She doesn't have to kill him, but that would be one of her roads of destiny if she doesn't split the two people apart and make sure that they don't fall in love. So, in a nut shell, Nymeria has to make sure Ginny gets with someone else or she has to kill her daddy about fifty or some years from then. Also, by separating Ginny and Tom.....oh shucks, I'll be giving the whole thing into your lap in three seconds so I'm just going to shut up and let you see for yourself in the next chapter.)  
  
kalinda  
  
Laura  
  
Kali Lestrange  
  
Noguasi  
  
Amelle  
  
fanficloveronunfairsite  
  
blue-silver=sapphire  
  
HadasL (Oy, that sucks. My da's a jerk too, if it makes you feel less alone. He hated me because I wasn't a son because my father's side of the family still lives in the first-son-rules-all age. And then he cheated on my mom and stole money from her without her knowing and from my grandmother, who he took all my mother's inheiritence from when she died without my mother knowing because he wouldn't tell her anything. He also didn't have a job or anything so all day he was stuck with us. Honestly, we could have drowned or been screaming for help and he wouldn't have looked up from his computer game, that's how bad it was. Right, shutting up now.)  
  
I've still lost my password (LOL! Still you've lost it? Did you click the one button that emails the password to you? That's what I do if I ever forget. Sadly, I have a photographic memory so I'm not likely to forget it once I see what I'm supposed to fill out.)  
  
Fire-sprite16 (LOL!)  
  
Wizzabee (Gosh! I knew SOMEONE would pick up on that. I ought to have you do all the French deals from now on. I only know how to say I'm happy. Which won't exactly stop a French robber in his tracks, now will it? So, therefore, I drop the French unto you, oh friend Wizzabee. bows with steeple fingers)  
  
Moonhowler182 (Wow, thanks. Hands Down is a cool song! I love it so very much. I like the group Three Days Grace too. I'll try to put more H/G flashbacks in, in the future (wow, that was nearly a paradox of itself) just for you. Won't be hard though, I was planning to do that anyway, lol!)  
  
Twilight Dancer (I think my fic just made the .1% that doesn't flatter her hair precisely. It's hardly there now so....lol.)  
  
bwormdreamer  
  
ennui deMorte  
  
paranoidwench  
  
Lady Evanesence (oh dear, well, they haven't stalked me out yet so maybe.....just maybe....)  
  
Ariel  
  
pheonixgurl  
  
Wow, that's about three pages of thanks. I never, in all my wildest dreams (and they can be pretty wild let me tell you) thought that I would achieve 253 reviews for this. I was hoping to make just one hundred and fifty but....wowzers. hugs everyone thanks, ya'll. Did it ever seem to anyone that there are tons more girls on this site then guys? I mean, there are almost no guys on here at all. Maybe girls really are the best writers. That or it just takes guys longer to notice....lol! Okay, rabbit trail!  
  
River-Star2 (love you all!) 


	21. Tea with Family

River-Star2: Hiya. I'm back again. Hopefully this chapter will be worth the wait. I hope that I can make it involve more of the plot instead of just the character stuff. rubs hands together Time to make magic, yeah? Yeah!  
  
Dyth: Yeah! Someone's urging me to continue. What's up? Welcome to my fic, home of the few and criminally insane! Lol. Just kidding. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you have enjoyed the last ones. Hopefully you don't take it as boring.  
  
Fire-sprite16: oh! Don't you HATE it when people go into your stuff and ruin it all? That happens to me all the time. (cough Uncle! cough) My six brothers don't help either. They all go through my stuff and ruin it all! growls One time I was writing a paper and it had to be fifteen pages about bacteria. Well, the type of bacteria cells that I was doing was the hardest in the class (because I'm an idiot and choose it for fun....) and I had finally finished ten pages after two hours of work. Well, my little brother (he was twelve at the time) decided to play a joke on me and DELETED THE WHOLE THING! I was so angry.  
  
Kali Lestrange: It has? Let me see! Wow! Four more days till an anniversary. Maybe I should make a special chapter, ya? Ya! I turn to you for ideas on a special chapter! You're a reader, so I mean, its nice to hear from my readers and their ideas.  
  
Pinksapphire: Oh, different name! I like it! I mean, its sorta contradictory to itself, but I do like it. Pink's not my favorite color, personally. Its actually black or red. But I still like the color pink. Just not too much of it or else I imagine pigs....mutters something about bacon and runs off to the fridge  
  
Hi I'm Crazy: lol! Yes, my whole idea of withholding this chapter was to kill you off. Lol! What're your ideas about this? Where do you think it should go? Yeah, I think most, about three-fourths of the people here are girls. Probably because boys are so busy with their v-games to notice us. Lol.  
  
Chapter Nineteen  
  
Luca, Richard, and Lorna were all sitting in their chairs, unexpectedly being obedient for once in their lifetimes. Even more shocking: they were perfectly quiet. Then finally, someone broke the silence.  
  
"Do you guys think my bum's big?" Lorna asked suddenly and both boys spit out their pumpkin juice onto their full-to-the-skyline plates and looked at her. The chestnut haired girl with full breasts and well-sculptured, almost innocent features was looking at them both eagerly.  
  
Struggling to cough out the last drop of pumpkin juice from his throat, Richard tossed a lock of black hair back and said, "Well, Lorna, I think I'd need to evaluate the situation in order to really tell you the truth." His blue eyes enquired of her with the tilting of his eyebrow suggestively. Lorna, however, didn't see that. Instead, she stood up and pushed her bum nearly into his face entirely. Richard sat back a bit to "evaluate the situation." An impish grin came over his features as he winked at Luca, who looked a bit envious. It wasn't everyday that a brown-haired beauty gave you a free ticket to a Quidditch game, much less a free handout to her bum. Luca winked back and Richard casually placed his hand on Lorna's rump and pinched. She shot up and whirled around, glaring. The black haired boy, however, was laughing so hard at the blond-at-heart that he didn't know what hit him till it passed him by.  
  
And by hit, Lorna really hit.  
  
A resounding CRACK was heard throughout the Great Hall just as Tom strode up to their table; the customary billowing cloak following him up and the regular dark look in his ebony eyes. "Nice job, Lorna. I've been waiting for you to teach Mr. Potter a lesson for quite some time now. Down, girl." He said and smirked before sitting next to Mina, who instantly wrapped her arm through his and entwined her fingers through his hair whilst she gave him a suggestive kiss.  
  
There was a raw silence for about five minutes in which someone's shadow passed over Tom and Mina's forms in the process of worshipping their kiss. However, the causer of that shadow easily broke that pregnant pause. "You know, Riddle, I could say the same to your girlfriend. Down, girl. Honestly, you don't want to give people the impression that you're a French whore. Oh, I forgot, they already do. Silly me." Came a snappish, angry, and full of unadorned hating voice.  
  
The kiss was easily broken by Tom, who turned to glare at who it was and whose jaw dropped instantly when he saw whom it was. "Rushton? What the hell happened to you?" he demanded, Mina forgotten nearly instantly. Indeed, the causer of the silence had been the causer of all silences and breaker of them within the Great Hall stood before them, her eyes blazing inwardly with a fury unmatched and her hair cut so short that without her feminine features, one would think she was a boy. Her jaw was set and her anger and robust hatred nearly seeped from her form in such a manner that it almost scared Tom senseless.  
  
Note: almost.  
  
However, her remark to Mina was only one of many. "I'll tell you what happened to me, you stupid prat. Your ugly, overbearing, self-worshipping, so-low-she-can't-be-classed, self-employed WHORE decided that she would be number one bitch of the century with benefits and become a hairdresser!" Her eyes clambered over each and every one of Mina's regime and sparked fear in each one of them by the hatred in her gaze. Anyone who came in contact with those eyes' line of fire flinched unwillingly and tried not to shout, "It's all your fault, Mina, that we're getting the third degree!"  
  
Tom, however, was the only one hit by Ginny's gaze that wasn't instantly reduced to ash before her. He simply stared back with his own black eyes changed a deep hue of ruby and calmly, which surprised everyone, implored, "Rushton, did you just call me an idiot?"  
  
The realization of what she had just done in his state of mind didn't hit her then. She didn't pause and reconsider her actions to make sure she didn't get vaporized on the spot like most would have done. Nor did she stop suddenly and start cowering in the expectance of a blow like some did. Even the rare category of saying an instant sorry didn't cross her mind. Instead, she met his fiery gaze with her blue-that-was-quickly-changing- to-red eyes and said, "Wow, Riddle, you can understand English. Now, let's see if you can understand WHY Mina did it." The jagged, blood red strands of her hair mixed with her eyes to produce the effect that she was a warrior woman on a mission. Even the Amazons would have been impressed.  
  
Mina, it seemed, only attempted to look haughtier. It was a failed attempt as the only thing she did manage to look like was a pig who was refusing to eat the gruel placed before her on a silver platter. Obviously, she was throwing in the distressed tactic of I'm-way-too-good-to-do-anything- horrible-to-you-because-your-way-out-of-my-class. Ginny, though, only grew angrier and more hurt by it and thus her words were sharp.  
  
"This morning, I woke up. Not exactly a heinous crime, now is it? Oh no, its not, Riddle. But your stupid girlfriend slut seemed to think it was when she saw me go through the Commons and decided to poke fun at some redheaded weasel girl just trying to get the HELL out of there without stirring any trouble. Guess what? She did. Guess what? She got her stupid, overgrown, French arse whooped in a verbal assault and thus she was ashamed in front of her own people. Oh heavens! A universal tragedy, right? Wrong! Mina thought so though. Any normal person who wasn't so full of themselves wouldn't have damn well cared, but she did because she IS full of herself. So much so that if you tried to fill her full of stuffing you'd find she would already be stuffed!" Ginny paused to take a breath, her eyes full of red anger, literally, and not about to leave Tom's understanding form that had suddenly turned eyes towards Mina's pale figure.  
  
Part of him, it could be said, understood Ginny's plight. After all, a hair was what made a girl different from a boy, as well as some other...institutions. But at the same time, the dark part of him was proud of Mina as well. It congratulated her and praised her, thinking she would be a great Dark Queen because she could take very good care of herself and wasn't about to let a few wayward comments stop her. She would, as Tom saw it, be able to defend herself when she was not there.  
  
His decision, suddenly, was made up by a promise he had made to himself long ago, well, really more like a week or two ago, when he had walked through Hogwarts with an orphan child on his mind and thought, 'Even though we both come from different families, it is our orphan nature that ties us all. We have become one another's family and family watches out for one another.' His eyes, losing their shining blood-red color, ebbed down to black as Ginny, Mina, Luca, Richard, and Lorna watched, and he said, "Mina, your temper is not a lovely attribute that you carry. You'd better watch it soon before it gets out of hand." He sent her a meaningful glance, full of threats, caution, and other things, but primarily those two, and stood. "However, Ginny, I see that you have done well with your new hairstyle." Black met with the gleaming clips that decorated the red jagged pieces of Ginny's hair, to make it look playful and pixie like. Almost, almost, he had the desire to run his hands through it and tell her it was better than anyone else could have done it.  
  
"Well of course it is, Tom, I did it for her!"  
  
Tom whirled around, coming face to face with Juniper Ambrose. Had he been any other boy, he would have stopped breathing and started having bad thoughts about being so close to Juniper. However, he had been her friend long enough to become immune to it and so he stared at her with her cerulean eyes glinting merrily when she winked at Ginny and said, "Juniper, how wonderful to see you this morning."  
  
She nodded and sat down, dragging a surprised looking Ginny behind her. When Mina saw that her litigant was not about to leave and the assortment of looks she was getting from her fellow Slytherins, she stood up with a huff, glared heatedly with her emerald eyes at her nemesis and stalked out of a room like a cat who had just been sprayed with water for doing something awful and was eager to look dignified still. After she stomped out of the room and the silence reigned horribly about the Slytherin table, Lorna said, "Okay, so, about my bum..."  
  
Tom sputtered out his pumpkin juice, spitting it all over Ginny, who glowered and slowly wiped it away with a disgusted facial expression. "Thank, Riddle, for the weather," she muttered and started to chop up a piece of sausage while, with each pointed cut, she looked at Riddle with anger.  
  
I suppose I should have been nicer to Mina. After all, it was her boyfriend I was humiliating her from. Looking back on it, I probably should have realized how angry and humiliated I had made her and prepared for a get back. Sure, she did get back. I mean, who wouldn't? When you're humiliated and sent scurrying from your boyfriend's room because of his half-bald, rabid Chihuahua named Fufu, don't you later on want to put Fufu in a mailbox and run it over with your psycho car from hell? Yeah, I thought so.  
  
Except what Mina did to get back, though it took many months, hurt worse than anything. What she did was what no ordinary woman would do. Yeah, I know, she's French; they're not ordinary, but still. Within the boundaries of enemyhood, she passed it and went into demon possessedhood.  
  
What she did would make me have nightmares for months.  
  
What she did would turn me against Tom Marvolo Riddle with all my power intact and directed at him.  
  
What she did was murder.  
  
Months passed in Hogwarts and neither Tom nor I was allowed to Hogsmeade because neither of us had guardians or parents to let us go. I could have pulled out my old one. But I had handed that into McGonagle when she had commanded and hadn't seen it since. So, I did what any normal girl would do in a crisis of severe boredom.  
  
I created trouble.  
  
The first thing I did in my spare time was studied. From the old books of the library, when they were yet to be placed into a Restricted Section, I learned a lot of things. In fact, I'll show off to you just this moment: "In case of a severe sausage binding, eat your way through if you are without your wand. If you are with your wand, you can use the spell 'Inferne Clota.' This will place the fire close to you and sizzle through the sausage without harming you." Yes, indeed.  
  
Very wise, might I add.  
  
I read the books about Wild Mages several times over and found out that Wild Mages had the strange tendency to fall in love of those with their counterpoint forms.  
  
Example: Wolf = lion  
  
Dog = cat and so on and so forth. Rather amusing, don't you think? However, Wild Mages with the same form have the tendency to lust after one another during the springtime. Aka: I was going to be far, FAR away from Riddle when winter ended. Perhaps even cut two holes in a paper bag, stick it on my head, and walk around that way. Amazingly, I found out that Helen of Troy had reportedly been a dragon and Paris, her lover and kidnapper (though not according to her) had also been a dragon. They had two children together, only one of which was a dragon as well to carry on the blood. Later on, King Arthur was birthed from Helen's line and the reason his last name was Pendragon was because his father and him could change into dragons upon will.  
  
It made me wonder. Could the girl, Nymeria as she had been called in my dream, turn into a wolf upon want? If she was truly of my blood and Riddle's, could she not only summon her form but also bear children that would have wolven blood inside them? What of her sister, Adara? Could she also change form? Why was it that Sesara, Mara, and Yalena had totally different forms?  
  
The book answered none of my familial questions, naturally, because it didn't know my family and I was not alive in ancient times, therefore not being able to be written about or analyzed. Though, even if it would answer my question, I didn't want to be analyzed. Analyzation really made you less of an enigma, and chances are, if they ever decided to analyze me for what I was, I would lose it somewhere and give the whole Time Turner episode away.  
  
Which would be the end of the world for me.  
  
Oh yippee...  
  
Nymeria moved down the corridors of Hogwarts, her feet tracing the cracks and crannies of the stones with experience and such careful nature that no one could ever deem her younger than thirty years, though she looked half that. She knew who she was looking for, knew what she was striving to find and she wasn't about to stop until she found it and let it know that she was still deeming the decision it made to be most important to her.  
  
Entering the library, she found what she was looking for and, noticing that the librarian was there, grabbed a book about Runes and pulled up a seat next to her target.  
  
The moment I felt someone sit next to me was the moment I finally understood what was written in Greek before me. "Aha!" I gasped, finally seeing the translation clearly. Honestly, whoever made this language was either trying to annihilate their people with headaches, or they just liked to listen to themselves talk.  
  
I read aloud,  
  
"This wrung Helen's heart. She knew it was the goddess—the beautiful neck, the irresistible line of her breasts, the iridescent eyes. She was in awe for a moment, and then spoke to her: 'You eerie thing, why do you love lying to me like this? Where are you taking me now? Phrygia? Beautiful Maeonia? Another city where you have some other boyfriend for me? Or is it because Menelaus, having just beaten Paris, wants to take his hateful wife back to his house that you stand here now with treachery in your heart? Go sit by Paris yourself! Descend from the gods' high road, allow your precious feet not to tread on Olympus, go fret over him constantly, protect him. Maybe someday he'll make you his wife—or even his slave. I'm not going back there. It would be treason to share his bed. The Trojan women would hold me at fault. I have enough pain as it is.'"  
  
However, I heard another voice shout Helen of Troy's angry words with me and startled up, looking at a mirror image of me but with longer, much, much longer curly hair and darker blue eyes. She was smiling, her eyes radiant with love at me. "Um... hello?" I asked, and thought, 'Who is this?'  
  
At the same moment, the girl said, "It is I, Nymeria. You have questions. I heard you call me from across time. If you wish to know about your children, just ask it of them. We both love you, though you don't really realize it."  
  
For a moment, anger crossed me that she had been listening in on my thoughts. What kind of daughter can hear her mother's thoughts? Why can't the mother listen to her daughter's thoughts? Wouldn't it serve a better purpose? But at the same time, I was curious and I wanted to know. I wanted to know NOW!  
  
Eagerly, my anger dismissed, I looked at her, sat up straight in my seat, and slammed the book shut. Nymeria winced, and then came out of it, reaching for the old, worn out book and placing it in a careful embrace. "Okay, I want to know about the way you talk. Why don't your lips move? How come I can hear you?" I heard my voice ask the question and saw a shadow pass through my future daughter's eyes.  
  
It never occurred to me how strange this might look. I mean, I'm fifteen, my daughter is fifteen, yet we're facing each other and talking like nothing's going to happen that just might rip the world asunder. Suppose someone walked by and suddenly caught sight of us. They'd think it was like Sister Sister all over again.  
  
Which would be rather odd.  
  
In any case, Nymeria looked at me, her eyes shadowed and said without her lips moving (Note to self: learn ventriloquism!!!!) "Easy, Ginny, I use my mind. I'm mute, by curse not birth, and thus I had no way of speaking. So I ran away when I was six, enraged because Adara said you would never accept a tainted daughter. I, being the fool that I was, listened to her and ran away to the arms of the gypsies. They talked through mind and soon I learned to do so, finding I had a talent for it. Not only could I speak through the mind, but I could also deflect, project, and hear other's thoughts and my own. I became an Illusionist and a Coercer. When I returned to you, I was ten years old and wiser than I had been when I first left. Much wiser than most ten year olds are anyway. You spent a whole summer with me, Ginny, learning me, understanding me, starting to pick up the threads where we had let them hang off the weaving. When time for Hogwarts came, you even sent me owls on the train and we mailed each other back and forth for the hours I was in the compartment. We were very close, Ginny."  
  
I was astounded at her story. My child.... mine. She would become this. She would do this and she's given me an insider's look upon my future life unless I took the alternative route. But hearing this story, seeing it this way. It made me hunger to bring this fascinating, lovable person, (MY DAUGHTER!) into existence no matter the cost. I had been hungering for my family and home since the hair cut issue and this girl was my family that was not-yet-existing-yet-still-before-me right now. My only family, honestly.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure I will help you make your ultimate path, but, Ginny, remember. At the reward of the beginning of my life, comes the cost of the ends of many others." Her eyes stared at me and I realized how foolish my dreams were. Of course everything was dictated on my actions. Of course my birthing of thieves, mass murderers, and Death Eaters would save the world from utter destruction. Of course.  
  
After all, I was the gods' guinea pig.  
  
A distinct sorrow came into my daughter's eyes. I looked at her, looked inside, and realized that she would always be sad. She always had been. It was just this time that I choose to see it. I stood up, came around Nymeria, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, placing my chin on her shoulder and said, "Nymeria, you were, are, and will be, the best daughter I shall ever have met, no matter what decision I choose." She looked at me, twined her arms around my neck and hugged me back.  
  
"You've told me that three times already, Ginny. All the times I needed to hear them the most." She murmured into my brain, and then I detached myself from her, kissing the air beside her cheek and then settling in my seat across from her in the library. The librarian had been gone an awful long time, it seemed. But, when I looked at the grandfather clock, it had only been five minutes since this conversation started. For a moment, I blinked, and then stared at it. The seconds' hand wasn't moving as fast as it normally did...In fact, it was barely moving at all. I squinted, thinking something was wrong with my vision, then blinked owlishly at it and said, "Holy monkeys. The seconds hand is hardly moving...."  
  
Nymeria laughed in my head but her face betrayed her emotion with only a smile. "Of course, Ginny. I could not have anyone walking in on our conversation when it is of dire importance thus I slowed down time."  
  
I turned to her, eyes bulging. "You can slow down time too? What? How? When? Where? Why? Can you teach me?"  
  
She laughed again and for once the sorrow in her eyes was replaced by affection and joy. "Time delays and travel is often used with...well, with a Time Turner. But when I was conceived, you accidentally drank some of the liquefied Time Turner essence. Both Adara and I can delay time. If I wished, I could kill her in one second with three hours worth of battle behind me."  
  
I considered this with a bit of surprise in my gaze. What the heck possessed me to drink Time Turner essence? Who would do that when they had a child? What kind of moron would put the ability to change time into their children by Lord Voldemort and expect something uncatastrophic to come out of it?  
  
Oh, that's right.  
  
Me.  
  
Nymeria nodded, her eyes going dark with sadness again and I longed to wipe the frown from my daughter's beautiful, golden face. Helen of Troy would have a rival in this one. Though she looked almost exactly like me, there was something different about her that attracted the eyes. Some sort of confidence and strength and beauty in such an aura that I couldn't possess it. Then I remembered, 'Tom has an aura like that. As well as one that shouts to be careful around him....'  
  
"Right, well, explain Adara to me. Your birth. What will happen? I want to know everything." I demanded, my eyes roving her face in another bout of questions. I felt like a fisherman, diving the hook for answers, catching fish, but none of the real prizes. Perhaps this bait would get the answer I was searching for.  
  
The redhead across from me nodded, her blue eyes understanding. "I expected that. I'll tell you all this. You see, we're not the only children that Tom will have. In fact, I grew up with one of the others. Well, really, the only other one that he had."  
  
"Of course," I said, "I shouldn't have expected to just have two children. I probably had one more right?" The sorrow returned to my daughter's eyes and just as she was about to move her head, it snapped up and her eyes went wide.  
  
"I have to go. Now! Telemachus! Oh gods, NO!" In an instant, my daughter disappeared, tears starting to stream from her face, more and more sorrow growing in her eyes.  
  
And I just sat there; stunned as time returned to normal and the Iliad tumbled on the empty chair my daughter had just left behind.  
  
River-Star2: Okay, sorry that was so short. I'm trying to rush through some things to get to spring or at least Midwinter because that's when it starts to pick up. You'll see why Ginny was suffering through the translation of the Iliad in the next few chapters (Which should be short, be soon in coming) Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your understanding. Thank you for just being here. I know there wasn't a lot of humor in this one, since I was sort of just going with the flow of my current mood and all, but, well, yeah, you know the deal.  
  
NOTE: One last question: can someone help me with songs for this fic?  
  
PS: ONE MORE LAST QUESTION: What are your ideas for an anniversary chapter? (I did start this in the ninth of June, so....) I want to make it special and since I created this for you all and as it is the anniversary of this fic, I think I should let you all bring me your ideas and I'll try to put them into the fic as best as possible. Just...no killing Mina. She's important to the plot. Kisses, pairings, parties, mischief, tricks? You decide. R&R please. 


	22. Exchanging of Currency

Thanks to everyone who reviewed:  
  
Amelle: Yeah, no killing Mina. She is important to the chain of events that'll spawn from this chapter. Spawn...that's such a weird word. Kinda dark sounding. Anyway.... Here's the next chapter. Hope that was soon enough!   
  
Serena3366: Thanks! You've given me the best assessment so far! If you could give me some more advice, I'd really appreciate it. Ask me some questions if it confuses you and I'll try to explain as much as humanly possible.  
  
Gothlic: Nope, he doesn't cheat on her with Mina. It's with someone else. But I'm not allowed to tell. Zips her lips Iliad by Homer. The Illiad is the Greek telling of the Trojan War. I love that story. Sighs but I have the abridged version. Snaps fingers  
  
Azalea: Oh no! ;; I hope your dad gets better. Why exactly is he in the hospital? Does he have cancer? I'll pray for you and him! huggles  
  
Taylor: Tom does do something to Mina, but you'll just have to read it to find out! Lol! I love doing that to people. It makes me feel evil but it's a necessary evil. Lol. Trelawney's eyes OO  
  
Fire-sprite16: oh, I remember having to do a short story for Creative Writing class and she only wanted five pages but I gave her twenty-five. Her eyes were huge when grabbed it and then she hugged me and told me I was the best student she'd ever have. Lol. So odd.... I looked up Toxic on www.lyrics.com and that worked so well with it! I've gotta make a chapter for that one.... grins Thanks! You're the only one that actually gave me some songs for it. When Myrtle dies (and she will because this is around the time that she does) I'm going to use the song My Immortal because it fits. huggles Thankies! Ginny's hair will grow soon. It's December in the fic so it's down to her shoulders now.  
  
Lady Riddle: No worries. If anything, what Tom does in this chapter will separate them a bit more before they really get together well.  
  
Pinksapphire: Really? I thought they were only blue. Geez, I feel stupid now for saying someone could have sapphire eyes when they could be so many different colors. Lol.  
  
Dyth: Nope, he doesn't have a child with Mina, but with another woman. The child is born in the sixties because he gets antsy about Ginny not having an heir for him already.  
  
Little Red Rabbit: Lol! Thanks. My story has to be odd because I'm an odd person. Lol.  
  
Amazing: Wow, thanks! I'm trying so hard to make everyone hate Mina. When I was younger, I read this book where you couldn't help but feel sorry for the main character (even though he became bad later on and did some really bad stuff) and the author made it so that you actually hated the good guy! I was amazed and I always wanted to make it so that people hated whom I wanted to hate but not the main character or something, you know?  
  
Kali Lestrange: Oh yes, mischief galore in the next chapter or so. I have to think up some stuff that I'd like to do but haven't already done yet. Chocolate fights are out but I think I'm going to have Luca, Richard, and Jack ruin the Christmas ball. Lol!  
  
Hi I'm Crazy: Yes, well, I hope I don't kill you any more! Lol! I don't want to be a murderer, Mommy! Oh, strange moment.... But yes, Mina and Ginny hatred will definitely go up in later chapters due to what happens here.  
  
Pheonixgurl: oh no! I keep confusing everyone! Gosh dang it! Lol. Well, I hope that, after you reread it, that you become unconfuzzled.  
  
Chapter Twenty (YEA! WE'VE FINALLY MADE IT HERE, EVERYONE! huggles all)  
  
Before I started thinking about leaving the library and presenting myself to the near-abandoned halls of Hogwarts (as everyone WAS at Hogsmeade,) I felt something cold and wet press against my ankle. The feeling made me jump and for a moment a few nasty thoughts entered my mind about what I would do to the creature below me if it were a rat. Truth be told, I wasn't happy about rats. Not after the gruesome Peter Pettigrew Problem in second year. Well, I was in second year, but Ron, Harry, and Hermione were in third. In any case, I reached gingerly for the Iliad, my eyes itching down to the floor to catch what was clinging its cold, damp presence onto my leg. Then, lunging forward, I swung the book with all my might at the cold thing and then realized my mistake.  
  
Halfway to making contact with the creature, my book stopped and I stared at the young Fenrir, who had grown to my knees in the last months. Now it was December and his coat with thick and flurry, with delightful little tidbits shedding ever-so-often onto carpet and wooden items that stuck out awry. Every little hair that was shed made me nervous because if someone found it, they would easily connect it to my direwolf child and demand him out into the Forbidden Forest.  
  
I knew that in there, the Wild Mages would take care of him. Especially the exceedingly protective Liran and Gronan. I hadn't seen the Wild Mages yet, as I was still waiting for word as to when they would start lessons on each of their cultures and special spells. I gathered the quickly growing Fenrir into my arms and kissed his black-fur covered heard. "No word yet, Mommy," Fenrir said. His voice had gotten a bit deeper since when I first got him though it had only been five months since that wonderful birthday. Simultaneously, we both twisted our gazes to the window in the library.  
  
Snow salted the earth as it had been constantly for the last week. One step into the iced over water and a person six feet tall would disappear within seconds. Small trees had already vanished two days past. Even the halfway point on the walls of the greenhouses was sheeted with the bitter cold stuff. Dumbledore, Dippet, and several of the professors had to use several spells to make the pathways to classes outside. The new ice-coated walls that blocked pathways elsewhere were actually a lot like Mina.  
  
Beautiful, cold, and daunting.  
  
The first time I had walked to Herbology in the snow, the walls of solid ice and trembling snow that was ACHING to be free of its magical bonds and crush all of us beneath it scared me. Looking back, I think any sane person should have been scared.  
  
That or they had serious issues.  
  
"No, Fenrir, I don't think they'll bring word either." I allowed, giving my growing "child" one more squeeze of love before letting him skid to the ground. I pushed myself out of my chair, away from the desk, and grabbed the Greek Iliad from its resting place. As I left the room, I placed it on the librarian's dreadful desk of doom (I hated going up there because she gave the fierest glares ever if you even mishandled the PAGES wrong!) and scrambled out of there as fast as I could without tripping over the cub. Running through Hogwarts' desolate halls on impulse, I raced Fenrir up to my room in Ravenclaw tower and fell on the bed laughing and hugging Fenrir to me happily, my laughter sometimes coming out silent and unborn due to lack of air. (Compliments of Fenrir's paws on my lungs...) However, my peals of joy were broken by someone else's incessant sobbing. Peeking out from my bed's sheltering curtains, I caught sight of a pig-tailed, heart-broken girl on a bed facing a window. Her glasses were on the table beside her but it was mainly the pig-tails that gave her away.  
  
"Myrtle?" I inquired, rising from my bed, crossing over to hers, and giving her a one-armed hug.  
  
"What do you want?" she snapped, not look up, "Come to make fun of poor Myrtle again?"  
  
Growing more concerned, I wrapped both my arms around her, but she shrugged me off and continued sobbing into her pillow. "What's wrong, Myr?" I asked gingerly, unsure about what she was talking about.  
  
Raising her face from the pillow's comforting embrace, she glared at me with angry brown eyes. "Well, you should know, shouldn't you?" she snarled. She gave a short sniffle then continued with a yelp of fury, "Ginny, I thought you were my friend. I though you cared." She started hiccupping, "But no," hiccup, "then you have to turn your back on me," hiccup, "and call me Moaning Myrtle and tell everyone what a frightened," hiccup, "little," hiccup, "fool I am." Long hiccupping spree, "Honestly," hiccup," what did I ever," hiccup, "do to you?" hiccup.  
  
I stared, open-mouthed at her and said, "Myr—"  
  
But she cut me off, "No, I don't want to hear," hiccup, "You're stupid excuses," hiccup, "Ginny." Hiccup. "You hurt me." Hiccup, "You fooled me." Hiccup. "But worst of all, you betrayed my trust." Hiccup. "I never want to speak to you again!" With that, my first real best friend of Hogwarts in 1945 grabbed her glasses, jammed them on her sodden face, face me the worst glare that would have made Voldemort shudder in fear, and stomped through the door, slamming it behind her.  
  
She was gone.  
  
Afterwards, I did the legendary SST: stomped, shouted, and threw things, as my brothers called it.  
  
In an instant, I thought of Romantic Ron, Challenging Charlie, and Bumbling Bill, all of which thought of me with the highest of affection they could present a sister who was a conniving as I. Precarious Percy with his hard- core, self-imagined discipline. Funny Fred and Gracious George, each so similar in their ways but oh-so very different if one truly got to know them.  
  
Or lived 14 years and 363 days of hell with them as I had...  
  
Yeah, okay, I'll admit it. I was still holding a grudge from when they made fun of my Demi Moore haircut and called me a Yellow Chicken. I mean, sure, the tanning cream didn't work so well, but still, I was their sister. They were supposed to be understanding and kind.  
  
Note that I'm trying not to bust a gut when I say that.  
  
I mean, I remembered my brothers so well at that moment, I started to cry. I really did want to go home, no matter what sort of flurry of adventure I was in. But really, if you looked at it from my perspective, my childhood was like a romp in the bushes before tripping into the forest with the Beheaded Horseman running after you, brandishing his flaming pumpkin heads and grinning maniacally at you. Whereas first I was trying to be healed for my experience from the phantom of Tom Riddle, I know had to face him. The real him.  
  
My brothers, I knew, had they been there, would have kicked major ass and possibly made sure Tom never had a chance to be Lord Voldemort. They would have held me back from him, made sure that I never turned the Time Turner. Made sure that I never had a fall out with Myrtle. Made sure that nothing bad ever happened. They loved me. They protected me. They CARED about me.  
  
Whereas here, no one did. I was alone, without family, without any true friends that would stay with me till the end, (no, canines don't count), without any professors or anyone that I could talk to. Absolutely, totally, in-reality, deep down to earth....  
  
Alone.  
  
Mina, creeping along the creepiest corridors of (in her opinion) creepy Hogwarts like the creep that she was, suddenly ran into a redheaded figure. They both went crashing down and Mina shouted, "Mon Dieu!" in a crazy fashion.  
  
The redhead instantly looked up and said, "Adara! You're not supposed to be here! What the heck?"  
  
Mina stared at the girl and looked around then smirked. "So, you have finally caught on, have you? Took you awhile. Honestly, Nym, I thought you were more....well, intelligent than that. All those A's in classes, all those precious awards, all those recommendations and job wants." Her green eyes closed suddenly and she tsked and clucked her tongue against the top of her teeth before continuing. "You definitely didn't live up to expectations, little one. Mommy's little girl is all screwed up." She smirked, a Riddle-patented smirk, and looked her little sister (by only one minute!) up and down in disgust. "I pity you, Nymeria, you could never fit in."  
  
Nymeria growled, "For your information, Adara, I'm not here to waste my time or my energy on speaking with you. I'm here to speak with our mother." She flipped a piece of wavy hair back and glared at her sister with all her power. A ripple went through the air and Mina/Adara stepped back as if slapped.  
  
"What? Why? Going to tell her to keep an eye on you so you don't become mute? Ooooh, poor little Nymmy-poo, all tender about her lacks. You get any more lacking qualities and you'll break in half, Nymeria." She laughed, tilting her silky black head back and then looked at her twin with utter distaste. "You're so weak. Always, Nymeria, always you need someone to hold your hand and make it better. First you started with Mother, than with the Gypsies. Later you take beloved-of-all Harry Potter and then my own personal sweetheart, Draco. And after they're all soaked up being your lovers, you cling to your children for support because you can't manage it. What a leech you are, what a moron, what a disgusting, overbearing, over- privileged, co-dependent, unreliant toad of a sister you are."  
  
Nymeria's eyes clouded up with all the sorrow her mother had seen earlier and she clenched her fists, her nails cutting so deep into her skin that she drew blood. "For your information, Adara, I'm going to clean the slate, wipe your existence off the earth, make sure Mother and Father don't ever, EVER get together again!" she shouted, ignoring the fact that there was a heavily shadowed niche in the wall where one humanoid shape was lurking. Neither of the girls noticed a red glint strangely shaped like eyes. Nor had they noticed the black wolf leap into the corner to watch with all patience and malcontent written into its very being. They had been too caught up into their fight.  
  
"Oh, so you're going to erase us both from the annals of history? Create a new one in which Lord Voldemort never exists and where Ginny can stay alive without killing herself from self-pity? You're more pathetic than I thought, Nymeria, much, much more pathetic." Adara/Mina clucked her tongue again, gave a flick of her hair and strode away from Nymeria, who glared at her sister and wished to all the gods that she knew that her sister would suddenly fall down dead and never be heard from again.  
  
"I'm getting rid of the problem from its roots, Adara! Something you never tried! And I'll succeed too because I have confidence in myself!" she yelled down the hallway after her twin, but Mina/Adara just swished her hand back over her shoulder as if she were dismissing her sibling with a royal hand and Nymeria ran up the stairs.  
  
She had yet to notice the black wolf with ebony-red eyes chasing her.  
  
Hyacinth came to find me later on. Perhaps sensing my sorrow or my fears about my family or perhaps because Juniper told her to. Maybe because she wanted to tell me the rest of the story. Or maybe because she was lonely too. Either way, she came to me.  
  
She found me on my bed, curled up with Fenrir, rereading, possibly for the umpteenth time, about Wild Mages and copying notes onto a foot long piece of parchment. When she entered the room, it smelled, strangely, like her name: hyacinths and if you've ever smelt hyacinths, they seem to smell like Japan or maybe peace and serenity. I know, its kind of odd to think that something can smell like Japan, especially if you've never been there. Once, though, Harry told me what it was like. They wouldn't let him live with the Dursley's one year because of the Dementors and such and as a result, he and his foster family for the summer visited Japan on the spur of the moment.  
  
Flashback time (I know you all hate these (and sort me for putting them in) because they are confusing, but bear with me here)  
  
Harry jumbled into the compartment, his green eyes filled with the experiences of summer and stared at me, practically trembling with the urge to tell me something. Over the years, we had grown into a sort of companionship mold with him as leader and I as the jester to keep the leader's spirits up. I suppose it was nice but everytime a teacher saw us together they'd say, "Aw, they look just like Lily and James." Sure, just like Lily and James. Just....without the biting off of each other's heads.  
  
No, after first year for me and second year for him, we sort of had a mutual understanding with one another and would help one another out in times of trouble. Sometimes, we shared things with one another that we normally wouldn't tell anyone else because they were secretive and we didn't want anyone else knowing them. Plus we knew that we trusted one another and that the other one would never tell. Besides, who could I tell? My brothers and family had near warded off everyone with one bad syllable to keep me from harm.  
  
This time, however, it was plain that Harry was going to tell everyone this one. "Ginny!" he shouted, coming in, "Ginny! Ginny!" His hair was, if possible, more messier than usually and his green eyes brightly shining when I looked up from my book in annoyance. When I saw who it was, however, my annoyance withered away like a weed in front of those weird potions muggles use on them (forgive me, I don't know what the heck they're called) and I pretended to be aggravated by his shouting.  
  
"Geez, Potter, I'm right here. Don't have a cow, virgin or no." I muttered and he heard me, plastering on a hurt look. I rolled my eyes, "Harry, I was joking. Don't take me so seriously..." His eyes lit up again as he moved next to me on the couch, trembling with suppressed emotion. I looked down at my novel, then up at him and said, "Speak, my furry black headed friend, and tremble no more!"  
  
"Ginny! I went to Japan this summer!" He near shouted. I rubbed my ear as a sign for him to talk softer and he assented with a nod. "You should have seen it! All the lights, the plants. The bonsai trees!"  
  
My brow furrowed. "What, for the love of all things holy, is a bonsai tree?" I asked painstakingly. My book had been dropped to the seat in a sign of recognition and to show Harry I was giving him my full attention. I didn't notice the redheaded girl moving towards the window of our compartment, nor the way her sad, blue eyes looked at me when she moved by. All I saw was Harry's green eyes and the way he was looking at me like he would just love to hold me in his arms.  
  
"A bonsai tree is small, very petite and so frail. I felt like one touch would destroy it. They're very graceful. And beautiful, Ginny." He said beautiful pointedly, looking at me and he moved closer to me.  
  
"Harry," I murmured and placed a hand on his chest, "No. Don't. Not this time." I said and went to find Ron and Hermione, who were possibly arguing about Crookshanks again.  
  
End of Flashback  
  
When I smelt Hyacinth's perfume, or just her self, that's the memory it brought up, and I felt tears spark into my eyes. She in front of me, on my bed, her violet eyes staring at me as if she was reading my soul and then she nodded. "Virginia," she murmured, "Would you like to hear the rest of the story?"  
  
I nodded. I had been hungering for the rest of that story for quite awhile now. The way she told it....It was like I was there, watching the Queen and King drift around each other's emotions like it was a sword fight and no one wanted to get hurt.  
  
"Do you remember where we left off?" she asked, and suddenly coughed harshly again, her thin shoulders quaking and trembling with the movement as if she were in pain. I saw that blood had suddenly appeared in her palm and knew that Hyacinth was dying.  
  
I choked on my words when I said, "We were at the part where the King realized he loved her but it was tormenting him because he didn't want to love her and he also didn't believe that she loved him."  
  
She nodded, regaining her breath, and pressed an ivory hand to the base of her throat, breathing hard as if she had run from a bear. "Yes, yes that's right. Now then, let me start there.  
  
"The King summoned the beggar woman back again the next night and sat further from her, but she seemed not to notice, told her story, and went back. Another week or so they continued this, with the king getting further and further away from the beggar queen every night till finally she looked up, tears in her eyes and said, 'Am I so disgusting that you'd move away from me further and further every night that I lie on your bed and weave stories for you? Do you hate me so much that my very presence is sickening to you? King, kill me now if you do hate me so, because I'll not bear your disgust any longer. My love for you, though first cold, has thawed and I can't bear to see you grow so far from me. I would rather die than have this continue.'  
  
"The beggar woman saw a dagger beside the king's bedside and placed it to her throat, ready to obey his command should he give it. But the king had loved her for three weeks full, each day it rend his heart in two to not see his love returned and at the sight of his queen ready to give her life to protect his, a smile broke across his face and he ran to the bed, taking up her hand. 'Gods, woman,' he said happily, 'I command you never to harm yourself. I have loved you for near a moon now and I have been ripped apart by your never saying of a word back to me besides those stories. Now, you've healed me again by your love, woman.' So the king and his beggar woman finally had their wedding night. When she died of an illness later on, he swore never to take another wife because she had filled him so that it would be like blasphemy. From her tomb came a white ash tree and when it came time for him to die and when he was buried, a redwood tree sprouted up. They embraced one another, twining and untwining and meeting again in such a gentle way that no one could tell where one started and where the other ended. Thus is the tale of the king and his beggar wife."  
  
Hyacinth finished, her eyes closed as if in assent and her head nodding slightly. I sat, my homesickness forgotten and said, "That was a beautiful tale, Hyacinth."  
  
Juniper's little sister smiled with her eyes closed. "So it is. However, its not just a tale. I read it in a history book. It was true and both of them truly have a tree that is not just one, but two, growing together into the sky and to heaven. The Irish, in fact, have a tendency to say that their famous lovers, when they die, have trees come from their graves that twine with their lovers. They developed this ending from seeing this tree and hearing its story." Her eyes opened again, lavender bright and suddenly I asked, "Are you a Wild Mage?"  
  
She blinked. "No. I know why you'd think that, because of my eye color, but it is only because my ancestors were from a violet-eyed race called the Terrans. They are said to have taken life from flowers, trees and such to give their young life. Thus my sister and I are of the earth." She shook her head, a small smile escaping from her lips. "I must go. Mina should be here any minute."  
  
My blood went cold and felt like icicles under my shield of skin. I stared at her. "Have you been letting her in?" But Hyacinth was already gone, her eyes sad and body racked with coughs.  
  
True as the daylight was real outside, Mina came two minutes earlier. I had tried stuffing myself in a closet, so that I wouldn't have to see her, but it didn't work.  
  
All I got was a mouthful of mothballs.  
  
Thus, Mina found me in the closet, hacking up mothballs galore and smirking like it was the most amusing thing she'd ever seen. Actually, it probably was, but since I was the one doing the hacking and not she, I didn't find any humor in the situation at hand. Not at all. "Rushton," she said, pulling away the closet door and leaning on it with her green eyes shimmering, "How ARE you?"  
  
I coughed up one more mothball, making sure to get lots of slobber on it before hurling it at her feet and said, "Never better, Silverass. And how about you?"  
  
Gods I hated that woman....  
  
"Oh, you know," she said, flicking away the mothball with the toe of her boot, "Just getting rid of unwanted things." She looked at me with disgust and I rolled my eyes, thinking how nice she would look if a skunk somehow wound up in her bed. "How's Myrtle?"  
  
It was then that it clicked. I pounced, growling, "It was YOU!" We both tumbled to the floor, my hands scrambling to find purchase on Mina's throat. That stupid moron! She cost me one of my best friends! "You told everyone that I said that she was stupid and ugly and so on! You said that her name should be Moaning Myrtle!" my hands found purchase and I pressed down, angrily.  
  
She gurgled, trying to throw me off. Sadly, she did and after she had whomped me into a wall and we both pranced up, she rubbed her throat. "What a loser you are," she muttered, "What a stupid, mangy git! Myrtle's not worth killing someone over, idiot!" she spat on me and left the room, the small fight between us over. Apparently I had won.  
  
I rubbed the back of my head where she had whapped me into the wall and groaned, "Ouchies...." A whimper at my feet told me of Fenrir's approach and I picked him up, gallantly stuffing him in my oversized robe pocket. His head and paws poked out at the top and he surveyed the passing castle flagstones that were his small kingdom happily.  
  
When people came about, he would duck down, but until then he bubbled happily, "Mommy's a fighter, big and proud! Mommy's a protector, assure the crowds!" About the hundredth time though, it was beginning to get old. I patted his head lovingly as a telltale sign to stop and after finishing the verse he had starting on about my socks and how even skunks would be put to shame, he stopped and curled down in my pocket, tired from his singing extravaganza.  
  
I walked in an eerie silence.  
  
By eerie...I mean twilight zone eerie.  
  
.......oh yeah, pretty eerie.  
  
Have you ever seen that show? Isn't it odd.....  
  
"Rushton! Rushton!"  
  
I started to run, not caring who it was. I was in deep trouble. Roaming around the dungeons like this. Honestly, what sane Ravenclaw would dare to go down here and keep their sanity? Not me.  
  
What am I saying? Yes me! After all, that's what I had been doing for the past three minutes of walking, waiting for Fenrir, my protector, to wake up. Protector? Forgive the snort but yeah right!  
  
In any case, I didn't look beyond my shoulder, afraid I might run into something, but I just ran. I counted the steps (149) that I jogged down to keep ahead of my stalker, I counted the number of intersections (18) that I crossed to keep ahead, and I counted the number of times I was lost before he was lost too. ONE!  
  
The dungeons, if anyone even cared, of that age during World War II were quite puzzling. There were a mass of doorways and intersections that led to dead ends or traps, billions of staircases both upside down and not and very strange looking symbols on the walls that had been there since Salazar Slytherin decided to grace the school with his presence. Very strange, if you ask me.  
  
After crossing those eighteen intersections at a sort of lope, I grew frantic. Whirling around, I realized I had only gone straight through those, not taking any turns, and began to calm down. What I saw when I turned around, however, made me lose it completely.  
  
Everything had changed.  
  
By changed, I mean all signs of familiarity: gone, nata, none, zip, zoo, out of the galaxy, never going to be heard from NASA again, past the realm of all sanity and crossing the brink, over the top and under the bridge to sink into water which no one can swim in, all signs of contact lost, the connection with the encounter was over, no survivors were left of this island.  
  
Totally....absolutely....non-existant.  
  
I scurried around, running to one wall, then another on the last intersection, trying to find which way I had gone, trying to be able to remember which symbols I had past.... Oh gods, I was lost in Wonderland. Alice, honey, you got some company....  
  
And it ain't just the white rabbit.  
  
Instead of being an intelligent, god-protected child like I was, I did what I had learned NOT to do since I was first born. Which is to say that I moved from my current position and just wandered around in all due oddity as given my sublime nature.  
  
After awhile, walking got....well, boring. So I added a song to it. It was a rather catchy song, if I may say so myself. Very hip. Very pop. Very now.  
  
"Oh, I'm bringing home my baby bumblebee Won't my mama be so proud of me? I'm bringing home my baby bumblebee. OW! It stung me!"  
  
And after awhile, that sorta got a bit boring too. So I added a mix of dancing in it too as I walked, which probably looked really odd at the moment but it was cool to me.  
  
Go figure.  
  
So there I was. Lost, totally out of whack with the whole rest of the world deal, dancing and singing to the Bumblebee song and very happy with the current situation. Then I finished the little Bumblebee song I went on to a bit of Dashboard Confessional's "Hands Down" and made up a routine for that while I walked. Needless to say, I was losing it quickly.  
  
My sanity was definitely going down the drain.  
  
It wasn't until I ended the song "Taking Over Me" by Evanesence that I really broke down and realized I wasn't getting anywhere. All the intersections kept whirling around and facing different directions even if I were on them and I was too busy dancing to my made up music to really pay attention to which symbols I was passing. So I started doing this odd habit that I had picked up since I was a small, wee bairn (child, for those of you that don't know what bairns are): I started randomly pressing stuff on the walls.  
  
The first thing I touched was a regular stone, but soon I made a game of it. Stones decreased your points by one, but each of the symbols themselves made three points if you hit it on center, one point if you only hit the edge of it. So I hit random symbols, trying to keep myself from utter despair. Needless to say, it worked and I was soon hitting the symbols like there was no tomorrow, not noticing how whenever I pressed them that they would glitter and shine for a few moments, then disappear.  
  
Thirty symbols later, I heard a grating sound and whirled. There, in the center of an intersection, was a large hole with a ladder to one side and water seeping down like a waterfall into its black depths. Curiousity, more than anything else, dipped into my heart and poured out its content there, so I had almost no choice but to go down. Grasping the ladder handles, I took a brave step into the darkness, where no redhead had gone before, and swallowed my fears.  
  
The climb lasted forever, and when I finally hit the bottom of it, my arms were shaking and my underarms perspiring from it all. I was tired, mentally, of seeing gravely faces in the walls around me and I was convinced I had stepped into Hades. However, someone else was not so convinced.  
  
"RUSHTON! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!"  
  
Oh bloody hell....  
  
I whirled around, my eyes bright blue with fear and stared at a red-eyed Tom Riddle in front of me. "Hi, Riddle..." I said nervously and gulped when he came closer and closer, his shadow looming over mine. His cloak billowed expertly back from him as if he had been born into it and his hair was not at all messed up from its perfect combed state unlike mine, which looked like I was a wet raccoon that had been electrocuted in a toaster.  
  
"HOW DID YOU GET DOWN HERE? DO YOU REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS?"  
  
Um, yeah. I'm not going to have that sweet sixteen party I'd been planning my whole life for....  
  
"WELL? DO YOU!?!" he demanded, his eyes so red I thought maybe he had pricked his eyes with a needle and they were really bleeding. However, with dutiful commonsense, I realized that was impossible. Oedipus may have managed it, harpies may have managed it, but Tom Riddle would never do something like that to his eyes.  
  
He loved himself too much for that one.  
  
"Um...yes." I murmured, keeping my gaze down and hoping that my show of submission would placate this monster before me. Whether or not I liked to admit it, I was still afraid he might hex me to Mars and it was always quite possible that he would. He was, after all, the future Lord Voldemort, bad arse of the century.  
  
Not even a flea was safe around him.  
  
Apparently, my submissive behavior had worked, because he calmed down considerably and looked at me with black eyes. "Good, now leave."  
  
My jaw nearly dropped. That was it? No "Ginny you need a life and I'm going to tell you about it in my new lecture." No twisting of my arm behind my back till I cried uncle? Nada? Nothing? If I were a masochist, boy would I be hurt. Thank the gods I wasn't though. "Riddle, I can't leave." I said, frightened slightly at any reaction he might have.  
  
Tom stopped in midstep from when he had been walking away from me and cringed, as if my utter stupidity had slapped him. And knowing him, it probably had. Turning slowly in place, he glared at me, a flash of ruby coming to his eyes before it disappeared and said, "Oh, and why not, Rushton?"  
  
I gulped and without saying anything pointed up. The long stream of water that had been following me all the way down here had totally disappeared and all light from the symbols that had chased down the water had abruptly been cut off as well as a long grinding sound was heard and the hole closed up.  
  
Tom cursed in such a way that it would have made my brothers' curses look like child's play.  
  
I winced with each word and I suppose he must have noticed my presence, finally, because he said, "Okay, come on. Just...don't...say...ANYTHING!" With one more glare, he whirled around and cloak-billowed his way to the end of a long stone hallway.  
  
I followed, looking in horror around me. Snake bones were everywhere, and on top of them, large snakes and small snakes, hissing, squirming, eating one another, biting, lunging. Tons of living, death-guaranteeing snakes.  
  
Houston, I've just entered Hell.  
  
Strange enough, the snakes, no matter how far away I was from them, turned and gave a bow of their head, as if I were someone important. I didn't want Fenrir to wake up at a time like this. If he did, I had no doubt that one of the large, thick-as-Hagrid's-arm ones would gobble him up and make him lunchmeat. Therefore, I slowly reached down and tied my pocket top to the pocket itself, thus closing it and making sure Fenrir couldn't be seen but could get air.  
  
As I followed Riddle down this hallway of stone, with the snakes bobbing their heads at me strangely, I tried not to run after him and hold onto his hand for dear life and pull him back to sanity. After all, I was lost. It wasn't like I could actually DO anything to get us back without getting brutally murdered, now could I?  
  
At the end of the hallway sprouted a large square stone, big enough for a human body to be placed upon. Four chains were connected to the ends where a person's hands and feet would be clasped into them and dried, rusty blood covered parts of the stone in rivulets that gave me some brutal idea to what exactly happened after a person had been chained up. Tom placed his hands on this, leaning on it, and traced one of the rivulets. "Rushton, come." He demanded.  
  
I didn't move.  
  
"Rushton! COME HERE!"  
  
I hesitated and when I did, he grabbed my arm and hauled me over to him. I whacked into him, feeling a tingling sensation, like when your skin has been numb and you need to wake it back up again. "Ouch!" I said, "Watch where you're pulling there, boyo!" I scowled at him, acting more like myself now that the initial shock had worn off about the snakes and the stones and the altar. Well, no, I take that back. I was still shocked, but not as much as I was before.  
  
But Riddle wasn't paying attention to what I was saying at that moment. Instead, he was focusing on my eyes, my lips, my hair and, of course, my breasts. My breasts he noticed mostly because they were attached to his chest at the moment and were rather...well, disturbing. His hand rose up, touching one of my short locks of hair, which, after five months, were finally down to my chin and had gained a bit of a curl-in so that it framed my face nicely. Again, the electric shocking feeling flooded into me and from his expression, I could tell it flooded through him too.  
  
He moved closer to me, drawing my face up towards his, which was quite a stretch because I was shorter than he. I stood up on my tiptoes, so that he wouldn't choke me and felt his body move closer and closer to mine till only our faces were separated and only clothing stood between us. Slowly, he lowered his face down to mine.  
  
Something cold and silky pressed against my ankle and hissed at me.  
  
In a second, I had jumped back, looking scared and hurt at Riddle's actions and he was smirking. "Sorry," he said, "I should have warned you that RedShadow is here." Instantaneously, my eyes lit up as I looked down and saw my snake friend slithering back towards me and reached to wrap around my ankle tenderly. Reaching down, I brought her up to my face using my arm as a branch for her and felt her nuzzle my cheek before letting her down to the ground.  
  
Looking back up, I started back at the fact that Tom was approaching me again, holding out his hand. "Come here, Rushton, please." He asked nicely and this time I came willingly, but I didn't touch his hand. Instead, I just stood next to the altar of Salazar Slytherin and placed my hands on the cold, smooth surface whose only ridges were caused by dried up blood. I traced a rivulet like Tom had, and then looked up at him.  
  
He had pulled out a little book from his pocket and was hissing the words in Parselmouth. The snakes, in repeat, hissed back, mimicking what he had said. For a long moment, I was frightened but then I felt the music these two groups were obviously making enter my soul and I started to hiss with them, my own voice a bit tender from singing so much on the way here. For what seemed like hours we all sang. Tom and I led the song and the snakes sang another tune to ours that only complimented it.  
  
The song, however, made me feel strange. I felt nice. No, not just nice. I felt...well, like a seductress. I felt wanted and wanting, like everyone was hungering for my approval, for one sly glance of mine to send them into escalation of spirit. I felt like I was the drug to Tom's purity. The one that would end his innocent stage and bring him into my realm of tangled reds, blacks, and blues. Every bit of me felt sweet and delectable and for some reason, I knew the song had given me that power.  
  
Slowly, gently, my hands left the altar and touched Tom's. Surprisingly, his hand had been doing the exact same thing and when we touched, I felt the electric buzz between us. Our fingers twined together midway through the song and the buzz remained, almost trying to add us into one being that would sing the song completely. I turned, looking at Tom, and found he had put the book down and was staring at me, his mouth still hissing the words but his eyes devouring me and undressing me mentally languidly. We locked hands together, bringing more buzzes into our bodies and slowly moved our hands, his to my waist, mine to his shoulders. Still, we sang, the whole experience being odd and yet at the same time comfortable as we embraced and felt our whole world collapse into the shushes of our mouths and the snakes. It wasn't until one minute after we embraced that I realized exactly what was happening.  
  
We were joining our souls.  
  
Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin were renowned for having joined their houses this way on purpose and the whole process was that Salazar's 'children' or the snakes he had bred and raised would murmur the spell while Salazar and Rowena would sacrifice one of their children upon the altar and then catch the blood in a goblet, which both would drink from, their hands held tightly, and then kiss one another. By witnessing the act of sublime sorrow and then joy at the finding of one another at the same time, the souls would break in half and Salazar gave one half of his to fill Rowena's half-empty soul and vice versa. Later on, because the spell lost potency as it grew older and older, the descendents of Salazar had to couple with their soul mates in order to truly perform the spell.  
  
Oh gods, what the HELL had I got myself into?  
  
Before I could separate from Tom totally, before I could tell him and the snakes present that I didn't want to do this because it was wrong, I saw a mirage of a goblet present itself before us, its container filled to the brim with red liquid that I could only imagine was blood. Tom separated our hands to grasp the goblet, then tip it towards me. To my absolute horror, a part of me was calmly accepting this. The wrong part. The part whose being made my eyes turn red when I was angry. That part alone made Tom keep hold of the goblet and let him tip half of the sickly sweet and tangy contents into my mouth. I swallowed, knowing my lips were a guilty red from the essence of whatever it was, and then grasped the goblet in my own hands. Tipping it towards Tom, he gallantly took the rest of it into his mouth, swallowed without breaking eye content, and then took the goblet from me and placed it on the altar.  
  
Finally, I broke free from the spell I was under as I rolled in the urge to vomit. Except, it was too late. Tom leapt forward and kissed me, the whole buzzing sensation returning fiercer than ever. His arms were locked around my waist, my arms rising to merge into a band around his shoulders and neck and we were kissing, our souls rising into our throats, separating and giving one half to the other without problem.  
  
Then, after one moment of waiting and reveling in each other's taste, we separated, I looked at him strangely, and realizing the hissing had stopped. Him looking at me with abrupt fascination and caution. He lunged forward to kiss me again and taste me, but I twisted my head away and looked around the hallway room.  
  
The snakes, goblet, skeletons, and altar were gone.  
  
Only Tom and I stood together in this mess, our lips stained red with blood. "Wha...?" I murmured, trying to regain my voice and my senses, "What happened?"  
  
Tom smirked. "I tricked you." He said, plainly, simply, but the implications of that statement rocked my world off the shoulders at Atlas himself.  
  
"Wha...What?!"  
  
"I tricked you, Ginny." He said again, getting a bit annoyed with my question, "I brought you here, told the intersections to change, let the symbols gleam for you. I told the mouth of the cave to open up. I performed the spell to allow the snakes of Salazar come forth and the altar. I made the goblet appear and allowed you to pour half of your soul into me."  
  
I floundered, my mind trying to grasp all this. Finally, I stammered when I hit a roadblock. "WHY!?!!"  
  
"Simple. Very simple. You're a very powerful witch, Ginny. A Wild Mage at that. I need you to help me win my prize. From the moment you fell into my arms I KNEW you were a powerful witch. So powerful, in fact, that I wanted you for myself. I thought by using Mina that you would come to me. Be jealous and so on. Realize that you loved me. But now it's December. Five months of toying with that whore on my lap for you to realize. Finally, I realized I had to force you into submission with me. I realized that the ritual was the only way to gain it. Not just because it halves our souls and makes us become one at heart, but because of who you are."  
  
I shook my head, and scowled, "Just because I'm Virginia Rushton, you picked this ritual? Sounds pretty silly to me, Riddle."  
  
He glared. "You don't get it. Have you ever taken a look at your lineage? Have you ever realized why your line is one of the oldest? Haven't you ever realized the Sorting Hat's realization itself?"  
  
I paused, looking at him oddly. "Um...NO! If I realized it, I wouldn't be asking would I?"  
  
He rolled his eyes, "No, of course not. You don't realize it. You'd never realize it because of everything else. You're a descendent of one of the House founders, Rushton. Or should I say, Weasley?"  
  
I paled, my eyes growing wide with distrust.  
  
"You see, one thing that you've deciduously left out of your nice little routine of becoming Virginia Rushton is that you and Jack seem more than a little alike. In fact, you seem almost like brother and sister. Another clue is that you sometimes mess up in speech and use future tense or even present tense. Your orphanage doesn't exist either. I should know. I've memorized them all just in case they had to abruptly move me to one of them so that I'd be prepared. The way you tense up whenever I say, 'Weasel' doesn't help either, Ginny. In fact, it only adds to my suspicions. But now, I have half of your soul, do you realize what that means?" he said, smirking a bit.  
  
Personally, I thought that his reason for performing that spell was a bit weak. I was still waiting for him to get to the juicy part of his idea. But as for how he had figured it out....I should have been more discreet. I was angry with myself. I had probably just changed the whole future of everything, including me. I shook my head.  
  
"No, you wouldn't. It means I can look into you. I understand you as well as you understand yourself now. I can see every dark crevice of your soul, dip my mind into every fantasy you've ever had and the best thing is, you can't do anything about it. And to top it all off, I get half of your power and you get half of mine. Any of your talent is halved and given to me. Magic: half mine. Writing: half mine. Personality: half mine. Your thoughts, your dreams, your every desire: half mine. And vice versa with you. However, I get more on the playing field because you didn't know how to control your soul when you halved it. I gave you with weaker part of my attributes, but you gave me the stronger part of yours because you're inexperienced and haven't practiced this as much as I have." His smirk grew, plastered on his face and seemingly painted there by some warped Michelangelo. A sharp click of his boots resounded through the stone hallway as he stepped closer to me and whispered into my ear, "I feel slightly sorry for Nymeria. She tried. Poor girl. However, what she did and what she said only led the events to do this and make me lure you here. I heard what I would become from Mina and Nymeria both. I know that I need half of you, as well as your heart itself, to make myself that great. I know that I need your love and you need mine to make me that great. You think I'm sick, I know that, but you're wrong. I know the ingredients to make the greatest potion in the world. The making of Lord Voldemort!"  
  
He stepped back, gave a short laugh and I stared in horror as his eyes went red again. What had I done? What had I created? I was stuck. Stuck in the very, very beginning of this tale. My soul ached from the binding, but I didn't care. I had caused this, and that hurt my heart more than my soul.  
  
"No!" I shouted, weakly and ran, trying to escape from it. But his laughter chased me all through the hallway as I sprinted towards the exit. I pounded on the walls, looking up at the chasm to open for me. It must have sensed my fear, or Tom let it open, because it did open and I crawled up the ladder for what seemed like hours, trying to escape that horrible, broken down youth. I didn't want to stay here but I was stuck. I had to wait one year till the Time Turners would finally be invented. Then I could go home.  
  
One year in hell.  
  
When I got back to my room (the intersections hadn't moved so I could sprint through them and get back quickly) I collapsed on my bed and feverishly started doing my homework. I know it seems like its odd that I did homework, but it was the only thing that kept my mind off of Riddle's maniacal laughter and blood eyes as he looked at me with something akin to desire. Yes, I was scared. Yes, I was hurt and angry. Yes, I wanted revenge. But the last thought belong to Tom's soul and I couldn't let that in. I would separate his soul from mine if I had too. Weed out my garden of his weeds, so to speak.  
  
Fenrir crawled out of my pocket, having the tie unloosed in my sprint and curled up next to me. Tom's gift to me fell asleep and snored lightly beside my torso while I contemplated yetis and curses.  
  
I suppose I should have realized that aftermath of it, but I was so tied up in my homework that I didn't notice when a shadow creeped over my bed and stayed there. Three minutes later, I heard a muffled sob and looked up, expecting Myrtle.  
  
Instead I saw Mina.  
  
"You bitch!" she yelled, grabbing my homework and ripping it to shreds, "You stole him from me! You took his soul! How dare you? He was mine. He was all mine and then you came along and corrupted him. You selfish little whoring bitch! You'll pay for this!" With that, the broken hearted Mina ran out of the room, her black hair flowing like a banner of hatred behind her.  
  
It was then that I realized that Tom Riddle had broken up with Mina Silverglass all because of me.  
  
River-Star2: Okay, I know some of that was confusing. It does solve some things in the plot though. Mina's area in the plot isn't over. In fact, it's just beginning. R&R everyone. Ask and you shall receive. 


	23. Showdown with the Red Wolf

River-Star02: Rightyo. I'm now giving little email classes and explanations for anyone that wishes to learn mythology and understand some of the later chapters of this story. I hope to take on more 'students' as I go along so that I can educate the world. Or at least my world anyway. Lol. Okay. Now thank you to everyone who reviewed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Have you ever been so in love or so much in lust that you can't breathe? I mean, its like someone took their fist and pummeled it like a lock-on missile into your stomach.

Another thing:

It HURTS!

And by hurts, I mean like someone took a cigarette and stuffed up the burning side up your nose or took a thousand needles and pushed them into your most sensitive spot one by one by one until you just wanted to rip their face off and make the obvious clear. (Which, for those of you who are clueless, it HURTS!) Or if someone took a dull knife and rubbed at your chest till they had cut out your heart and forced you to eat it and then poured salt, one little salt mite at a time, into the place where your heart had once been and proved that you are indeed a living, breathing, wonderful (this doesn't work for Hitler though) person who is not, in fact, made of stone.

That's what it feels like when you stumble out of the bowels of hell and realize in a low growl of a mutter, "Good golly, Miss Molly, half of my soul has been replaced and I'm in PAIN!" Not to mention a dire wolf that insists on licking your hands as you walk/run all the way up to a common room to prepare for your next issue in life.

Yeah, that's what happened and that's what I felt like.

But then, I'm assuming I've already told you that. Therefore, let us fast forward to lunchtime, shall we?

I sat at the Ravenclaw table with no friends whatsoever. Tom was watching me push my food around on my plate slowly, and I only knew that because I could feel him like water feels oil, and he was talking to Juniper and Luca. Myrtle was sitting at an uninhabited table. She had sat in a group of people unlikely to notice her presence but as it were, they did notice and abruptly everyone at that table moved away. I now realized precisely why she preferred to eat in the bathroom because nearly everyone was making fun of her and her strange habits (like how she peeled an apple before she ate it instead of eating the skin and all...) Lorna was sitting by Richard, flirting with him and making certain he KNEW she was there. And let me tell you, he was certainly rising to the occasion.

It was then, watching everyone but not partaking that I realized someone else, besides Tom, was watching me. Raising my head slightly and glancing around, I saw a boy two years my senior watching me from the Slytherin table. He didn't sit anywhere by Tom or Lorna or Richard or Luca. He sat by himself with a bunch of girls giggling around him.

Now, let me get this straight. Normally, I wouldn't bother to spare him a second glance. Normally I wouldn't even have bothered to look over there period and then walk over there and talk with him. Normally I wouldn't have even done what I did. But, well. HE WAS JUST TOO BEAUTIFUL TO MISS!!! (Ladies, you understand me, right??? Please say yes!) So, say you understand! I mean, it's not everyday that a girl like me gets the stare of a guy like him!

Oh well, what happened happened and I can't change that.

So there I was, sitting with my food untouched and just swirling it around on my plate because I felt like if I ate one thing on that plate, it was going to cut me in half with pain. I didn't have anything better to do, so I stood up, very slowly, so that (please, forgive me) his eyes were drawn to my short, but nicely shaped, legs and my slender abdomen. I flipped my hair a bit like they do in the movies from that weird place called Hollywood and walked over, every step carefully planned to show off the best of me.

Wait, one interlude please.

FORGIVE ME! IT HURTS OKAY! I THOUGHT HE COULD HELP! FORGIVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Okay, I'm done. Now then, where was I? Oh yes.

I flipped my hair a bit like they do in the movies from that weird place called Hollywood and walked over, every step carefully planned to show off the best of me. Parting the waters of girls around him with a smooth, "Excuse me, please," I strode up to him and stood there for a moment. He seemed pleased with himself. "Hello," I said silkily (well, at least I hoped it was silkily), "May I have your name?"

"Black. You may call me Black."

"Yes, well, Mr. Black, I would just like to know why you are staring at me?" I suppose that wasn't really the right thing to say to him, since it was the 1940's and perhaps girls weren't quite so forward back then. But, hey, I come from a family with seven males and only one female counterpart. You learn something in there, trust me.

Either way, forward or no, I took him by surprise. Apparently he didn't think I would bring it up in front of his cough cough companions. The girls around him stopped giggling momentarily, staring at me as if I were some alien that just declared I was going to take over the world by using mustard seeds, and then looked to him for guidance.

Black tipped his black haired head back and started roaring with laughter while I just stood there, a bit confused at the sudden turn of events and slightly angry that he would laugh AT me instead of with me. But at his laughter the ice appeared to have broken with the other females and they laughed as well. Suddenly, the laughter ebbing away from his tone and his face, he clipped his hand shut and stared at me with chocolate brown eyes that made me want to drown in an ocean because I felt unworthy to be part of the vision in those eyes. I licked my lips, which were surprisingly dry, and heard him say dimly, "I stared at you because I admire beauty and you, my dear, are full of it and overflowing with it."

For a moment, that didn't register. Then I looked at him, shook my head and said, "What, for the love of all things holy, are you on?"

He was surprised again. I suppose girls haven't said that much to him either. Then he tipped his head back again and laughed. The women surrounding him hesitated and joined in. But then they stopped again when they saw the clipped motion of his pale hand. "Now, my dear," he said and the girls looked at me in resentment, "I see that you are, indeed, beautiful but you apparently don't know that. So, I shall take it upon myself to make you see it and be confidant and blossom."

Again, stare.

"Ah, I see that you don't believe me. Well, I shall prove it to you. By the Yule Ball, you shall be curvaceous, foxy-haired and foxy-looking, and your eyes shall gleam like blue glass," he said, his lips curving slightly, "However, there is a fee."

Okay, enter pain. Talking had its limits and my soul was aching again as if someone were driving a knife through my heart. It was then that I really knew what the knife was.

Loneliness.

Pure.

Cold.

Loneliness.

And gods was I willing to do ANYTHING to get rid of it.

"What is the fee?" I asked suspiciously. But my voice was just acting up. In fact, I was already up to making a bargain with Satan himself if he could make me, well, unlonely. This guy, Mr. Black, was no cheap-o exception.

"You shall see," he said, "After we have struck this bargain. You do what I want from you, I make you beautiful and the heartthrob of every boy, fully developed or no, in Hogwarts. Do we have a deal?" He offered his hand and before I could weigh the bads with the goods, I accepted, feeling the cold ice of his flesh against my warmth. He brought my hand to his lips, kissed them gracefully, and then retrieved his hand so that he could clap them together. "Good! Now, what is your name, my red rose?"

"Virginia. Virginia Rushton," I said plainly. The deal was done, I could tell him whatever but the deal was made and ready to be set up for payment.

He smiled predatorily. Normally, it would frighten me that any guy, two years older or not, had taken a supreme interest in me and tried to lure me to love them, but a soul bind is NOT a normal circumstance no matter what Miss Cleo says and I wanted so badly to rid myself of the loneliness it presented. "Excellent. Now, my rose, I will have Bridgett take you to the female Slytherin common room and they will get started on the basics. Follow her and Sasha and they'll lead you through it."

I turned around to see what must have been the sluts of 1940's. Honestly, it was that bad. Except, the deal was made. There was no backing out of it no matter how beautiful, glamorous, and slutty these girls were, I was made to go with them. When Mr. Black saw me hesitating to head over to Bridgett and Sasha, he pushed me on my bum and waved me away as if he had not:

Made a deal with me and

B) Basically became Satan himself

What a life...

Bridgett, the beautiful blonde that put Britney Spears to shame with her sex appeal, walked over to me and smiled. Surprisingly, it was a smile that reached her eyes and told me that soon I would be part of her little sisterhood with Mr. Black the middle brother of it all. Her blue eyes were a mix of azure and gray and her skin was tanned deeply. Seductively curling red lips had been painted with red lipstick and her cheeks needed no blush. From the way her shirt showed off her midriff, I could see a six-pack of abs that proved she did work to please. "Come on, sweetie," she said, displaying a heavy English accent, "We'll fix you right up! So, what's your name?"

I was a bit scared. I mean, it's not everyday that Britney Spears incarnate comes up to you and demands your name and calls you sweetie within a five-minute radius. "Virginia Rushton," I mouthed, glancing at the other girl. Sasha, I remembered at the last minute just before my eyes met Riddle's. Amazingly, his were pained too and he didn't paste on a smirk when he saw me. Instead, he looked like he wanted me. No, not wanted. NEEDED me to come over to him, plop down in his lap and give him a kiss. He mouthed something to me just before Sasha took up my line of vision but I couldn't read what it was.

Sasha was a black-haired, sultry looking girl that was taller than me by three inches and as thin as Bridgett. She was, as it were, much shorter than Bridgett, who was like Barbie and exceedingly tall. Where Bridgett was tall, curvaceous, and beautiful, Sasha was petite, noodle-shaped, and mysterious. All of this shone in her brown eyes, so much like Mr. Black's, when she looked at me. "So, like, are you going to sleep with Black?" she asked, twirling one slender, tanned finger through her straight locks. It was then that I realized the girl had the IQ of a rock on drugs.

For a moment, I actually thought about it. Perhaps this was the third child? By Black? At fifteen? Good golly, Miss Molly! No way. But none of those thoughts appeared on my facial features. Instead, I tucked the emotions inside of me while they led me deeper and deeper into the dungeons and said nonchalantly, "It depends on what his side of the bargain is. Did he ever sleep with you?" I looked pointedly at both of them.

Sasha giggled, which I took to be a yes, and Bridgett blushed causally and said, "Only once. He's begged me and tried to lure me into it, but I told him one time was enough." I nodded. Bridgett sounded like a cool-headed chick. Maybe I could take lessons from her. "You see," she continued coolly, "Black doesn't take anyone against their will. He doesn't do rape. Its true that he's sometimes a little rough because he wants it so much, but it's never so bad that you hate it or it brings you discomfort." She blushed more and added, "He's good at comfort."

Again I nodded, having the grace to blush with her this time. Gods, what had I gotten myself into this time? Why hadn't I thought enough to actually flip the 'on' button that was connected to my brain? Why didn't the "Danger Ginny Weasley! Danger!" sound emit from my soul and WARN me BEFORE this catastrophe?

Oh wait, that's right. I only have HALF a soul now.

I suppose that, yeah, someone upstairs must have been looking out for me. And I suppose that, yes, I was more than lucky because just when I was about to enter the Slytherin female common room, a familiar tone stopped me.

"So, Rushton, going with the right crowd are we? I see that you've finally learned to discard those Ravenclaws and Gryffindors and finally come into the light."

I turned around, slowly, but surely, and stared up at dark-as-nighttime-pitch eyes. "Riddle," I said and added sarcastically, "Nice to see you here."

He smirked, the patented smirk. Not even MALFOY could have done matter. And that's good. I mean, where Malfoy was the King of Smirking, Tom Riddle is so the High Emperor of the Kings of Smirking. Which means, oh yeah, he's good. "It's good to see you remember me," then he stooped a bit and covered my ear with his hands as if telling me a secret, his eyes darting obviously to the two women behind us, who were eyeing us like they were starving children in a candy shop. That was when he said something loudly and nearly painfully in my ear that I KNEW he wanted the other girls to hear. "Ginny, sweetheart, I want to show you something really, really important. It's got to do with," another conspiratorial glance at the two behind us as if he were afraid of them overhearing, "the Plan."

I stopped for a moment, staring at him like he was some sort of mongoose-elephant hybrid and said, "What?!" He shot me a look and I realized what he was doing, "Oh. OH! Right." Then, equally slyly and a sweep of my eyes to the other girls before casting my vision back to him, "THE PLAN!"

Gods, I had no freaking clue what I was doing....

That was when Riddle started towing me away because the other girls seemed to have fallen for it within the moment. "Hey, um, Ginny!" Bridgett called. I whirled around to look at her, trying to ignore the tingling sensation that Tom's touch was causing along my arm. "Meet us later by the fountain in the courtyard, okay? I'll tell Black that today wasn't going to work out, alright?" I yelped an assent and scurried after Riddle.

He pulled me through the Entrance hall and through the doorways, shoving me into the snow which, thanks to a warming spell cast over the entire Hogwarts yard, was starting to melt slowly. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" He shouted, eyes a rabid red, "DO YOU REALIZE WHO YOU'RE MESSING WITH? DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU'RE GETTING YOURSELF INTO? DO YOU THINK BEYOND ALL REASON THAT THIS IS A GREAT IDEA? BECAUSE LET ME TELL YOU, GINNY, IT IS NOT! NO MATTER WHO DAMN WELL OFFERED IT TO YOU, ITS NOT PLAUSIBLE AND YOU ARE BLIND IF YOU CAN'T VERY WELL SEE THAT YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL ENOUGH ON YOUR OWN TO BLIND A MAN!" For some odd reason, his voice cracked as he stared at me, huddling in the snow, my arms up to defend myself against him in fright. He stopped, stared some more at me as the cold air melted away his rage, and he held out a hand. "Come on, Gin, get up. I'm not going to hurt you. That wouldn't be very intelligent since half the damage is inflicted on me as well as you. I don't want you to fear me or anything just....Gods, girl, what the hell were you thinking?"

I ignored his hand, now full of anger myself, and shouted, "Well, Riddle, why should you care? You damn well USED me for your thrice-damned experiment and I'm just another guinea pig to you—"

"—Don't you dare start, Ginny, because if you think that—"

"If I think what, Tom? If I think that I'm going to make a point? If I think that you used me? If I think that my soul is in PAIN and is cutting me in half because of you? Because, gods-damn it all Tom its yes to all three! I hope your happy now because you've made my life a one-way trip to the bowels of hell." I stomped up to him, my eyes a blazing red like his own had been a few moments back. "So what if I decide to make a deal with the devil, Tom, because you don't CARE! You never did! And you want to know the truth? NO ONE CARES!" I screamed, throwing snow at him. He was so shock that he didn't even wipe it off. He just let me rant, which was possibly the safest course of action in this case. My eyes were already blurring up with tears as my loneliness choked me again. "No one...." I stumbled over my words, finally realizing the bland, tasteless yet foul-smelling truth in them and started to walk away from him and into the snow like a blind girl without a cane, "No.... No one cares, Tom. Absolutely no one. No one's coming to get me. No one's going to realize I'm gone. No one cares. I'm just totally alone." I fell into the snow, feeling the cold wetness press through my stockings and on my skin. I was too numb to feel it though. The shock of my truth. The shock of realizing that no matter how much I wished it, no one was going to save me from this nowheresville end of the world. Three tears, pristine, salty, but still tears, slithered down my cheek and stopped halfway to their destination of my chin, frozen by the climate.

Someone, Riddle I guess, kneeled into the snow right next to me and pulled me into their body for a hug. But I was limp and we both ended up sprawling on his cloak, he clasping me tightly and me crying into his shoulder. It was almost too good to be true. After all, it was future Lord Voldemort, was it not? Gods forbid should he ever touch a lady lovingly. And yet, there he was, holding me close and letting me cry into his shoulder without hexing me into the Netherlands.

"Ginny," he murmured, "I know you. I know what you feel. I know what you dream and what you fear. I know what you love and what you hate. And I know, without any shadow of a doubt, that I do care. I know that you're in pain. I know that you're lonely because I feel that way too. I've felt that way so long that I've nearly become numb to it. Part of the way you're feeling this way is because of me, I suppose, since I was so stupid as to exchange half of our souls for this accursed love-hate relationship of ours. But, gods, Ginny, I swear that if you kiss me or if you give yourself to me one day, for that moment and every moment that we are together, that the pain will lessen and you'll grow used to it."

I sniffled, hardly believing my ears. It was like some cheap romance novel that I bought three summers ago at Hermione's advice. Except this was cheesier. And more touching, actually. I sniffled again and again, trying to stem my tears and suddenly I realized exactly WHAT I was doing.

I couldn't be....

But you are....

No, no I wasn't...

Oh yes, my dear, you are...

Who the hell are you?

Me? Why, I'm your conscience. I'm the person in your head that you're supposed to listen to, but you've chosen to ignore.

Oh gods. I'm going schizo!

Ah hah! You see what I mean? You ignore me and chose to think that you're crazy.

Well, yes, in fact, I am because I think its crazy that I'm falling in....that word....with Tom Marvolo Riddle, future bad arse of the century, murderer of my ex-crush's parents and several thousand, the owner of the 'mafia' of the wizarding world, and never-going-to-be-a-family-man-without-taking-several-pills-and-a-tranquilizer-gunshot Lord Voldemort himself.

Yes, I think it would make quite the romance story, wouldn't you?

Oh ha ha. Very funny.

Admit it.

No.

Admit it!

No!

ADMIT IT!

NO!

Then get up and leave and prove it.

Fine, damnit, I will!

So I struggled, really I did. I mean, I was punching, kicking, screaming, shrieking but I couldn't get up because, well, that was all mentally done. Physically, it was a lot harder to do than it seemed. Mostly because:

Snow is cold and he is warm. And

The conscious person stuck in my head was right but I didn't want it to be right but I was still finding it hard anyway.

How ironic can you get?

Anyway, so finally I decided to use that special part of me that all my brothers, dates, and all else had hated over the years: my stubbornness and determination. Trust me, no one gets what they want out of me without me agreeing to it first. So, I fought mentally with my conscious and the tingly feeling stretching up and down my body like silk scraping against flesh, and finally awarded myself with the beauty of being able to get up.

Fast.

Tom was left there, laying in the snow and looking at me like I was psycho, and I stared down at him in awe of being able to get up without the tell-tale eyes flickering and showing him what I was trying to prove to my conscious (that I had so gleefully ignored so far) didn't exist.

Damn you, my conscious said.

Ha ha! I win!

Tom was still staring at me and he stood up quickly, not one for trying to look stupid. "Look, Ginny, my offer stands to make you whole. If you want it, of course, however I suggest that you don't go back to Bridgett and Sasha until you're on serious drugs because those girls will take out everything that makes you, well, you and implant some doll." He said, rubbing snow out of his hair.

And when he did that, my heart melted. Seriously, I think it melted into a big red-pink puddle at the bottom of my stomach and just boiled till nothing logical was left. You see, Tom is a very, very, VERY attractive guy and with the snow rolling around him like white sprinkles to decorate the chocolate cake of his hair and eyelashes ((A/N: Okay, I'm hungry now.)) he looked so beautiful and delicious that I had to have a taste. I ignored my gleeful conscious, ignored the fact that no ORDINARY girl in the 1940's would do such a direct thing, ignored the idea that someone might be watching and reached forward, grabbed his head and pulled it down to me for a taste.

I think I surprised him as much as I surprised myself.

My soul, momentarily, clasped inside me as if finally healed and realizing that it just couldn't injure the vessel it was carrying itself in if it didn't want to drown. For a moment, as our lips met, I felt whole. I felt that tingly feeling intensify by five thousand. It was like sticking your wet finger into an electric socket and realizing your parents were right. It was.....perfect.

And there I stood, in the snow, my arms wrapped around his neck (which is really high up since he's so tall and I'm five something) and one of his hands cradling my neck and the other holding around my waist. Which is really good, by the way because if he didn't, I would have fallen down as my knees had turned to Jell-O.

Not literally, by the way.

And that's when I realized that I was depending on him.

Now, let me tell you that the Weasley's, given half the chance or even one-sixth or one-billionth of a chance, would rather never depend on anyone because we like to do things the honest and righteous way. It's just not right if we don't. We wouldn't be the poor, lonesome, huge Weasley family then, would we? No, we wouldn't. In any case, if we DO find out that we're depending on someone, we start to feel a little...um...dislike for ourselves and launch on a crusade to save our dignity. We're just that way. It can't be helped.

Knowing that, I think you'd see that it was logical about how I ripped my lips from his with such hostility that I surprised both myself and him and then fled down the grounds and into the Forbidden Forest.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't so logical.

In any case, that's what I did and let me tell you, that was possibly the dumbest thing I have ever done besides when I got that Demi Moore cut or when I started writing in the diary and talking to Tom Riddle. Yeah, that was so bad that it ranked up there with them just to let you know how bad things got in the Forbidden Forest.

Now, before I launch on details about what the Forbidden Forest looked like when I conveniently fled, stumbled, and almost crawled my way into that hellion place of dark dreams and doom whispers, I'm going to make clear one thing:

I don't do winter.

I hate winter. It's cold, it's wet, and, I couldn't stress this enough, it's COLD! I hate the feeling of sloshing snowballs going down your shirtfront because your evil twin brothers from Hell decided to make it clear that they were in a playful mood. I hate the way when you stick your bare hands in the snow that it numbs you and can cause quite a fright. I really, really, REALLY hate it when you get tossed outside (literally in my case) because your mother wants you temporarily out of the house like some spoiled tabby cat and the snow gets through your hair to the back of your head and just sticks there, all wet and cold, and reminds you what the bad side of Christmas is. I mean, really, Santa must have choose December to rule over because no sensible child would stand out in the yard at subzero temperature and watch for him with binoculars and a flashlight from Playmate. (When I say no sensible child, I mean Fred and George did this when they were younger and dragged me into it as well. Thanks, guys) So, basically, I don't do winter. Heavy coats and layers and layers of underwear, pants, shirts, and bras and I just don't fit into the right jigsaw puzzle without serious glue and tape.

Okay, now back to the story after my 'Dr.-Phil-I-need-help' rant.

The Forbidden Forest looks strange when it's coated in the sugary looking substance that we all call snow. Honestly, it does. And it feels weird too. Not physically, mind you, but just emotionally and mentally. I mean, you feel like your walking, literally, through a winter wonderland, minus the horse and carriage and sleigh bells and little children screaming their lungs out because they don't really want to ice skate with you on the frozen pond but you're making them anyway because it fits the stereo-type Christmas. But at the same time, it has this sort of dark edge to it because of all the winter wonderland stuff that you're missing in that huge forest and plus the fact that, hey, there's these huge icicle daggers that are hanging by the merest spell of winter's subliminal mysteries and threatening with each icy blast of wind to collapse on your head and wish you were dead.

Which now, looking at it realistically, you probably would be.

Anyway, back to the description. The snow is the Forbidden Forest hadn't been cleared by Dumbledore or Dippet or any of the professors because it just made their jobs easier of keeping kids out of the Forbidden Forest and because it meant less time in the Infirmary area if they accidentally cast the warming spell on the wrong part of the Forest and caused a huge slab of icicle to come crashing on their head and ending their lives as they (and I suppose us too) know it. In fact I think the icicle thing might have been why they had decided NOT to clear the paths in the Forbidden Forest but that's just my ideas and no one listens to me anyway.

Again, the Forbidden Forest is beautiful, but in a dark way in the winter and under about five or ten feet of snow. Above me were those perilous icicles and also a web of snow coating tree branches and skeletal trees like icing on a cake. (A/N: Did I mention I'm hungry?) Every so often, the wind would sigh causing its bitter tasting breath to caress my face and throw up little cough of snow right into my eyes. Yet despite the fact that snow is blindingly white and almost dangerous to look at in pure sunlight, there was no trace of light here. Snow and branches and gods knew what us had blocked any sun from entering and therefore I was practically left in the dark. Luckily, I had my wand with me, performing the light spell and wandered around in complete wonderment, trying to make out a path to find the Wild Mages and absolutely unable to do so because, again, the Forbidden Forest, under five or ten feet of snow, doesn't look like it does in the fall or in the spring. In fact, in all four seasons it has been said to change around so that no one knows exactly where they were last. Or, at least, that's what I read about this time period's Forbidden Forest.

Five or ten feet of snow didn't make it any easier.

After an hour of walking, I realized that I was, without a doubt, totally lost. Like the caverns of dungeons beneath the school which led me to Riddle, the path I had taken and even left little scraps of cloth at so I could find my way back had closed up behind me by a sudden three feet of snow and ice, or a tree maze suddenly appear before me where there hadn't been one before. In complete exasperation I lifted my head to the tree covered sky and shouted, "What do you want me to do, torch this place to find my way?"

There was a moment of silence, then a giggle that sounded like golden coins clinking together and out came Faraday, once the great Helen of Troy, now in hiding so no one would know she was still alive.

She was beautiful, as always, and wrapped in a coat of red-gold dragon scales that were coated inwardly with eagles' feathers and wolves' fur. Her hair was down in a simple braid and it was as thick as my upper arm. Gleaming eyes shone and reflected the pureness of her heart and her soul and she laughed again when I saw she was wearing a huge ruby that cast little drops of red light across her body like drops of blood.

"Well," she said happily, "I'm sure the rest of us Wild Mages wouldn't appreciate it if you did that, Ginny, and I'm also sure that the school and none of the animals would like you much for it either. That is, of course, if we don't put it out first with our Old Magic." Her eyes were half-lidded as she looked at me as if challenging me to do so. Despite the friendliness in her voice and despite the jest in her tone, I knew that if I did such a bold thing as set the Forbidden Forest on fire I would soon find myself dead and just as cold or soon becoming as cold as the snow beneath my feet.

I smiled at her, letting her know that I knew what she meant and then said, "Old Magic?"

She grinned back at me, in such a way that for a moment I caught a glimpse of the old Helen, just before she met Paris or was engaged to Menelaus, when she and Penelope possibly spent all their time playing tricks on everyone else in the palace of Sparta. "Yes, Old Magic, Ginny, a thing that the other Wild Mages and I have decided to teach you. Not many know of it any more. In fact, I think they only mention it as if it is a dream or a legend to inspire their children with and make them think harder about where their magical blood comes from."

"Don't tell her too much, Faraday, or we won't have anything to teach her."

The icy tone was protective of letting out secrets and I whirled around, red hair flying into my mouth and eyes as if to shield me. I wiped away the hair strands and stared at Sheba, her blonde hair cut shortly around her chin, her cat-like amethyst eyes glaring at Faraday in anger and coldness. For a moment I was shocked. How could anyone dislike Faraday? She was nice, she was brillant and she was humorous. Then again, if I lived with anyone for more than one thousand years I suppose I would get tired of it too. But still, a thousand years was good enough to get used to one another's company, wasn't it? And surely any quarrel between these two should have gotten settled long ago. Right?

According to Sheba, maybe not.

Faraday, however, didn't care and showed her amusement at Sheba's tone by laughing. "Oh come now! We both know that it'll take ages before Ginny learns all there is about Old Magic. Even, I, who has been around more than five thousand years, don't know much about it, and what I do know is already common knowledge to us all." Her melodic voice was still amused but underneath that I detected a faint wariness that reminded me of a wolf aware that its Alpha could easily rip it apart without thought.

Sheba's eyes narrowed to slits as she stared at Faraday, glaring at her as if resenting her very existence. Then, slowly as if regretting the fact that she had choosen to speak to someone so below her, Sheba hissed, "No, but then, Faraday, no one can be sure of what you do. Not even your own blood."

Faraday glared back and suddenly I looked at them and knew this dispute had gone on even before Arthur's day and before Faraday had to go into hiding. "Do NOT use old arguments before me, Sheba! Find some other blade to use, yours is growing dull rather quickly!" Faraday shouted, losing her temper.

"Oh aye! But it never fails to hit its mark, Helen!" Sheba shrieked back and they glared at one another again, the heat from their anger striking me like fire despite the aching numbness that was growing in my limbs.

"STOP IT NOW!"

Another voice, this one obviously masculine, whistled through the air like a whip and snapped at them both with such fury that they both took a step back in shock and even I flinched. Ivan stood there, angry as Sheba and his purple eyes blazing. "SHEBA! Stop this madness. What happened has happened and there's nothing you can do about it. I know it has brought you pain but what Faraday did was what HAD to be done. And you, Sheba, you cannot even accept that. You know nothing of duty, Sheba, you would never understand what Faraday did or will do so I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

"But—" Sheba sputtered; her look was one of indignation and of pleading.

"No, Sheb, I'll not hear you out this time. What you have said is the same time and time again and I can safely say that all you're doing is just showing your ignorance by saying it again. For once, Sheba, keep your mouth SHUT!" He shouted the last words, his temper snapping out again and cracking against Sheba's and my ears. They nearly hurt from his words though he hadn't spoken to me.

Faraday, obviously pleased that it seemed Ivan had sided with her, turned and reached out a red-gold dragon-scaled and furred glove to me and said with a welcoming smile, "Come now, Ginny, we have much to discuss and less time now than we had originally." With a stabbing look at Sheba again as if to strike her for her insolence, Faraday led me out of the clearing where Ivan and Sheba were now in deep conversation in a language that I didn't want or even knew. It sounded like a mix of every language on earth and it seemed that none of the words were the same. Then again, maybe they weren't.

Faraday led me further and further into the forest than I thought she would originally. I had thought we were going only a few yards or maybe a mile or so from the place where I had seen her. Apparently that was not the case. She led me through tunnels of ice and deep underground, miles and MILES away from my arriving point and held my hand the whole way, chattering about how nice the weather was and how she had been looking forward to seeing me.

Yeah, nice weather if you were a yeti, sure.

In either case, down, down, down we went, following some oddly carven staircase hewn from bare dirt and some stones where they could manage and encircled by runes I tried to look at more carefully as we went down but was unable to due to Faraday's pace. Each step, it seemed, made me get warmer and warmer till finally the last of the numbness from the cold had disappeared and I was finally ready to make a few words of my own out.

"Why didn't you send a message to me if you wanted to see me so badly?" I asked, watching exactly WHERE I was stepping. The staircase, closely spiraling around a column of stone and dirt, seemed not to have a railing on the other side and one misstep could either send me falling to death or landing right into the stone-dirt column and into a dazing headache.

At that moment, Faraday halted, her blue-green eyes, so much like the ocean when it was pacified and just enjoying existence, whirled to catch my own bright blue ones and she looked at me seriously. "You....never.....got the letters?" the last three words were said in a rush, as if she were afraid of what exactly that might mean.

And maybe, if she was reacting like this, that was true.

I shook my head, suddenly intent on every emotion that played across her beautiful, glorious face and trying to learn to read people in a snap though I had never, ever been any good at it. I mean, us Weasley folk just let everything out in the open. We never try to conceal our emotions around one another and what friends I had had learned not to conceal themselves around me as well because I could just pick up that something was wrong. Faraday though....She was taking her time in sorting through her thoughts so they didn't show up on her face. It was just the sort of thing a woman, an ex-beauty queen literally, that happened to be more than five thousand years old would do before a young apprentice.

Go figure.

However, Faraday, once Helen of Troy and Queen of Sparta, just kept her face blank and said, "I shall have to see if we ever did send them out and if we did, I shall have to find where they were misplaced, shouldn't I?" In an instant, she realized what she had just said aloud and turned to me, grinning the maiden's grin that reminded me of mischief about to be at work. "Ah, but now I'm mumbling more than ever. What an old woman I am?" She faked a pose of almost deadly regret and her smile widened before she wandered down the stairs again.

I snorted. "Hardly, Faraday, you're still as beautiful, if not more, as you were when you were possibly twenty or so. I would only think you nineteen if I were passing you in a street. Then again, I don't know what you looked like back when you were nineteen." I shrugged and then sighed as I glanced down the staircase edge, careful to place a hand on the column to help my balance as I peered down. "Um, Faraday, how far down is this chamber anyway?"

She crowed with laughter for a moment, her sunny head tilted back as if she herself were looking for the sun while perched here with me and she looked back as she continued walking down and said, "Oh dear, youth these days are so impatient. If I told you there were one thousand or so stairs left, you would just toss yourself off the edge and hoped you caught the edge with your fingers as you fell to save yourself. Trust me, Ginny, compared to when we were building these steps using hands and Old Magic, this journey is taking mere seconds so don't complain. Relax, feel the earth for once, breathe."

From any other woman, her last line would have sounded cheesy but as it was Faraday, it gave a more elegant gesture through it all. So I did as said and then was struck by something. "Wait a moment, more than ONE THOUSAND stairs?!" I looked down the edge again, trying to see how many curves of such a staircase as this was in my vision for counting and then, uncaring whether or not I fell, I whirled quickly around, fixing the golden haired woman with a blazing azure gaze and said, "Do you REALIZE how LONG this is going to take? I'm going to be so old when we reach the end of this I'm going to need to be carried! And trust me, Faraday, you DON'T want to carry me. I'm heavier than I look."

She giggled a bit and thoughts of golden coins, once again, clinking against one another trickled through my head as I listened. Her giggle sounded girlish and was also quite calming. At the same time, it sounded lucky and prosperous. Small wonder Paris had fallen for such a woman. Just her laugh was enough to ensnare anyone's soul because of what it seemed to promise. "Oh please. Once again, Ginny, stop being impatient. I command you to enjoy this moment of peace because once you get off these stairs and stop thinking of other things your legs will ache like nothing else. And then, after we are done with our lessons, you will have to go UP those stairs."

I swear to all the gods that my jaw nearly fell down those last thousand or so stairs.

"WHAT?! No way! I am NOT going up these things. Do you realize—"

She interrupted me by saying, "Oh aye, I realize what you were about to say, Ginny, and yes, it does hurt the first ten or so times but after awhile you really start noticing a change in your thighs and your bum. A really nice change, might I add." She laughed over her shoulder carelessly and I watched where I was going, thinking about what a tedious job it was going to be to get back UP these blasted steps again when the time came. "So, Ginny, tell me about your family. Tell me about how you came to be in this time. Tell me your story."

So I did. I told her everything, from my birth, to Tom Riddle and me from our first meeting to our last, and about Nymeria and Adara and my future. I told her everything, every snitch of truth there was and every lie I had told. Hell, I even shed some emotional tears when I realized just how much I wanted to go home. I missed my family as any normal fifteen-year-old girl would do, or at least any girl with six brothers and a set of overprotective parents would anyway.

Faraday seemed to relate as I went on and she nodded periodically, her braid bobbing up and down when she did so. Sometimes, when I paused to wipe away a tear or to take more breaths to calm myself down, she would say, "Yes, yes, Ginny, go on," in such a comforting way that it seemed hardly possible that she was Helen of Troy and Queen of Sparta, the most beautiful woman in the world and still holding that title.

I must admit, somewhat to my shame, that I had always imagined Helen of Troy as some beauty queen (which she was but not to the extent of my ideas anyway) who hated the world because it took her from Paris and went willingly from her husband because he wasn't quite as exciting as beautiful Paris nor as attractive. I thought she would have been, should I ever had met her, a woman who looked down upon everyone and everything because she was the daughter of a god and a queen, the most beautiful in the world, who played everyone else's violin because she could and plucked them all just right. Some spoiled beautiful goddess-like woman, essentially, was what I had been thinking with some cruelty on the side order to compliment the meal.

Oh how wrong I was.

Faraday shared some of her tale when we found out we only had five hundred more stairs to go and told me most of what she could so I would understand.

Helen, as she had been called when she was born, was the daughter of Zeus and Leda. Despite the fact that she was beautiful, even as a small child, her father had seemingly resented her and always used her as a bargaining chip, for she was proof that his wife had cheated on him at one point and he saw Helen as a shameful child. Her mother adored her, of course, for Zeus had been her father and a tryst she had adored dearly. Helen's two twin brothers had overall ignored her, only seeing her as an excuse to fight. If someone was bothering her in the stables or giving her one wrong look, they'd be at them in a second, claiming it was for their sister's honor while it was truly for the sake of a good fight that they would undoubtedly win. Only Penelope, it seemed, truly cared for Helen at all. (As Faraday mentioned this, she had to wipe her eyes and I gave her the "Yes, yes, Faraday, go on," deal)

Penelope had been a dark looking child, with long black hair that coiled around her shoulders prettily and dark black eyes as well as tanned skin. Small and lithe as she was, even when she was older and well into her married years, she was precious and trustworthy and loyal to the very end. Penelope, while she would fight to the very end if given the chance, would only fight if she had to and often scolded Helen's father for not caring enough for his prized daughter Helen. As well as being her cousin's champion, Penelope was also a trouble-maker, parading through the palace with Helen trying to find someplace to break out a storm. Helen, of course, had loved these dealings as it meant her father, even if it meant just getting scolded, noticed her and her mother even took time to cluck over her about how she was so unruly.

But all that had changed when she turned fifteen was ready for marriage. The suitors, naturally, had come one by one and stayed a few years, letting themselves see her and judge her and then, seeing that she was beautiful and fun to be around, started coming in cartloads and leaving in cartloads to tell tales about her. Penelope, upon seeing so many men eye her cousin in such a way, drifted into the shadows wanting nothing to do with men because they frightened her so much. Unless Helen was alone or just with her ladies, Penelope wouldn't go near her beautiful cousin or come out of her rooms to cause trouble.

And then suddenly, it happened. One day Helen and Penelope had been causing trouble and were summoned to the throne room to be scolded and a man in well crafted armor was there, speaking with Helen's adopted father in charismatic tones. He had whirled around to see who had entered and had interrupted the king's speech to him and had nearly been floored by the beauty that radiated off of her.

And by her, Faraday meant Penelope.

It was true. Penelope, while she had been creeping in the shadows, trying to keep from notice, had finally blossomed from her childish beauty into something even darker and more mysterious. Something that this strange man, with his bronze armor and even bronzer skin, longed to touch and unravel with speech, touch, and his mind. Penelope met, for the first time, the man's gray gaze squarely and raised her noble chin just a bit more to show her pride. Even as she walked by him and brushed his bare arm slightly with her shoulder, the message was clear, "I'm stronger than any enemy you have beaten in battle, soldier, and will not be taken easily."

And even as the soldier stepped back from her to give her way to her uncle, Helen's father, the message he had for her was clear: "I know but I'm still going to fight for you."

Helen, in all her fifteen years, had not seen her cousin act like this before any man and glared the man down, thinking he was going to claim her precious cousin then and there without her say. She wasn't about to have it. Penelope was hers and hers only and she wanted it to stay that way forever.

As they were chastised before her father and given punishment to serve, Helen noticed how the man was watching her cousin, sweet, small Penelope, and saw that it was the way men who came to woo her often looked at her: with desire unquenched. For a moment, it had scared her and then, when the fear had realized its foolishness, she was angry. This man was far, far too tall for such a small slip of a young girl like Penelope, who was only know reached her fifteenth year. How dare he want her! It was wrong, dead wrong and Helen would not allow it.

But she had no choice in the matter and it seemed even fate was against her for her father the king had decreed that Penelope's punishment was to serve wine at the banquet that night for all the suitors and Helen was certain that this creature was to be among them. Penelope, when Helen told her later, paled considerably under her tanned flesh and said to Helen that she would never leave her willingly. The dark girl had planned that they should go and live like nymphs in the forest or on the mountain nearby and could make a living off of crop growing and weaving. They could take some cattle up there as well as horses and live off of whatever they could find and build themselves a house, small but sturdy, and never have to visit the world of suitors again.

Again, fate turned against them. Penelope, when she served wine to the man, fell for him with his eloquent words and his beautiful eyes, claiming he was like Adonis was to Aphrodite and that she feared she would soon be hungering for his very presence. Helen, of course, had felt betrayed and shouted at her cousin, calling her a viper and telling her that she never wanted to speak to her again. Penelope had wandered away from her kin that night and into the gardens, where she met up with the man and planned everything with him for spite of her cousin and her hurtful words.

Helen, meanwhile, had realized what she had said and deeply regretted it, not realizing just how much her cousin was to turn upside down her life, but couldn't take back what she said. The dark fifteen year old girl had left, blending into the shadows and merging with them as if one born of them herself, and had disappeared. Helen, being princess as she was, could hardly run out there in her nightgown, searching for her cousin in the dead of night with a palace of suitors running amuck around her.

The morning after, however, changed everything again.

Penelope's man had found a way to get Penelope and also sell of Helen to the highest bidder with the black haired girl's help. By oath with the gods, the man would keep from marrying Helen and instead marry Penelope and, with the other suitors, promise to protect Helen's chosen husband if he called upon it. This way it protected Helen's husband from the other men that might want her and also would preserve Helen's future children while she and her husband were still alive. No one realized, Faraday said grievously, just how much those oaths would mean in ten years or more.

So Helen was given to Menelaus, brother to Agamemnon, who was wedded to her half-sister, and bore him a girl child named Hermione within a few years. Penelope wedded Odysseus, king of Ithaca, and bore him a son named Telemachus within nine years of their marriage. Helen's shout that she would never speak with her cousin again held as they grew apart from the pressures of marriage, children, and their households. Even worse, Helen took Penelope's husband away when the beauty queen ran off with Paris and Menelaus called, more like tricked, Odysseus into serving him in war.

I thought about Helen's life and thought about how hard it must have been, to have been a boon companion to your cousin for nearly your whole life and then have to be ripped away from her because of her silly afflictions for some soldier man and because of some hateful words you shouted at the last moment. The pain, I realized, was possibly unbearable. Possibly more so because, Faraday admitted sadly and painfully, she hadn't even spoken to Penelope until just before the Queen of Ithaca passed away from an illness that had stormed her island. Even then they had fought and then, with Penelope's last dying breath, the dark beauty murmured sleepily, "I forgive you, sister at heart," and died in her husband's arms, still beautiful, still mischievous, and still, still so loved of all who knew her.

Faraday broke off into tears at that last and I finally realized we had both stopped at the very end of the stairs and that my legs were aching something fierce. She smiled at me and said almost matronly, like a mother denying her child sweets till later, "I'll tell you what happened after Menelaus died and my little girl grew up and realized her mother hadn't truly aged and wasn't about to die yet."

Okay, great ending to a story, Mom, now exactly WHEN are you going to tell me the rest?

Before I had the time to answer that question though, I saw a tawny lioness paw her way over to me and stare at me with great blue eyes. A long auburn streak went down her back and finally christened at her tail, ending with a tuft of fur at the end that waved around majestically. I realized, as the lioness jumped up calmly and scooped her great huge, muscled arms around my neck, that this predator could easily gulp down my throat and the rest of my blood without a thought. It was almost frightening.

Note the almost.

I stared at the lioness and she stared at me, her expression in what seemed like some carnivorous grin with big white teeth. "Um..." I said without emotion, "Hello, Rose."

In an instant, the lioness changed into the pretty auburn haired, blue eyed young woman that had once been old and stared at me in astonishment. "How did you know?" she gaped, her pink mouth opening and dropping unceremoniously. "Not even Ivan can guess if it was me or not in a pit of lions but you just...How?"

I sighed, almost rolling my eyes at the obvious before her. "I hardly think that a bunch of Wild Mages would take in a lioness in the middle of England just because she looks interesting, Rose. And plus your eyes aren't golden or brown like a normal lion's. They are a very nice shade of blue. And the auburn streak down your back helped because it just happened to give away exactly WHO you are."

She still stared.

After awhile of staring back at her, I began to get uncomfortable and said suddenly, "So, what are you going to teach me?"

Now THAT snapped her out of it. The look of awe was gone, replaced by an excitement so extreme I considered running back up those stairs, thousands or no, and leaving her dangerous thoughts to herself.

"Changing!" She said happily and grabbed my hand, leading me into an earthen room that was so huge it was possibly a mile in length and half a mile in width. My jaw nearly scooped to the floor again just looking at it and I stammered, "How long did it take you all to build this?"

She grinned again, a predator's grin I thought, and said, "Only two years, but it was well worth it. We practice combat and religious stuff in here as well as magic dances to increase protection and hide this place from unwary trespassers. If anyone were to come by here they would start to be very, very afraid and just go away or they would think that they heard someone calling them and leave us all alone. It was Sheba's idea. Lots of things," Rose added with another look of awe on her face, "were Sheba's idea. I honestly don't think we would have banded together to protect ourselves if it weren't for her. If she hadn't come along with Ivan and taught us to work together as a team, I seriously think we would have died long, long time ago and thus end the Wild Mages forever. We're not that populous you know. About one in every one million people are Wild Mages now but we used to be very, well, common. When the Old Magic was still around and everything. But something happened and we're not sure what and suddenly the amount of Wild Mages went down so much that we're endangered and quickly heading into extinction. We're a race of our own and it's very much a big thanks to the gods above that we live long."

I looked around the room, noticing that the runes were glowing here, a dark green color like leaves in the brightness of spring. And then something struck me as odd. "Well, then why don't you all have children. You know, band together, get married to one another with the permission of Dumbledore or just take one another as lovers and have loads of children. Surely with the Wild Mage gene so strong in all of you, your children would be Wild Mages too and we could all have a great comeback!" I, needless to say, was excited. I mean, I personally didn't want to have a lover or get married yet, but these guys could obviously get a head start.

Obviously, however, Rose thought that was the most stupid thing for me to say.

She scoffed. "Ha! Virginia, my dear, you have no clue what you're saying." I blinked at her obvious notion of my intelligence rating and she continued bleakly. "Wild Mages, my dear, are almost naturally barren. As soon as we hit the age of fifty or thirty, we can't have children and the average age for all of us here is easily over one thousand. I'm just reaching fifty something and I can't have children. And the chances of two Wild Mages parents, with the fact that they are below thirty, having a Wild Mage child is slim to none. One out of ten children in a Wild Mage family will become a Wild Mage, the rest just have the ability to communicate with animals and that's it. The only way for a guarantee for all Wild Mage children is if a Wild Mage were to...." She stopped, her shoulders slumping as if she realized she was ruining my life with her words, and then said slowly, "Nevermind, Virginia, I shouldn't be telling you any of this. It's almost impossible. And you," she looked at me with such a sad smile on her face that I nearly cried out in my own anguish at the sight of it and said, "You need not concern yourself, Virginia. Now, let's get onto the lesson of Changing."

She walked to the very center of the room as if she was on a grid and trusted that her coordinates were right and said, "Stand three feet in front of me." Her hand broke from her hip and upper thigh as she pointed to a designated spot on the floor and I hastened to obey. "Now then, I want you to breathe like you're meditating or just calming yourself from a stressful operation and think of a forest glade, a tiny stream running through it, and the sun shining on your face."

I struggled to block out her voice, thinking that she wouldn't be in the forest with me, and tried to calm my frizzled nerves and number my breathing. In, out, in, out, I counted one two three four, in, out, in, out. My mind became clearer than anything I could have ever managed with the random racing deer of thought racing across. Finally, after one moment of silence and mastering my thoughts, I pictured the scene in my head.

Tall oak trees spanned and scrapped the sky as if trying to punch holes in the clouds and see if they would pour out silvery-white milk. Huge green leaves, the color of the runes that glowed in the room, decorated the branches and gave a lovely shade to the brown lady trunk beneath as if to shield her from the large golden coin that was the sun. It was warm, pleasantly so, with a low breeze that sung through the branches and made soothing noises and caressed my face like a lover finally meeting, once more, the one he had been separated from for so long and testing to see if his lady was really there. The grass was a lighter shade of green than the leaves and soft like goose-down pillows. The dirt that framed the silvery water stream was blacker than night's gown and the water that ran alongside it smoothly was clearer than a polished crystal.

I grabbed the scene, held onto it, and placed myself in it. I lay on the grass, feeling the life of it thrum underneath my hands and my body. I tasted the water and felt the completeness of it and I leaned my head and my front body against the trees and heard the faint heartbeat hitting slow and peacefully, as if the ancient spirit inside were trying to match its heartbeat to mine.

I heard Rose speak the next command and then said in my forest glade, "Red wolf, where are you? I want to see you, feel you, hear you, be you." And then, suddenly, the wind moaned and warned me something terrible was coming. The trees dropped their leaves in fright and the heartbeat beneath the bark beat faster and faster and harder and harder in unholy terror. The stream became faster, as if trying to escape the beast that howled fiercely at its birthplace and shrieked, instead of trickling and giggling, that I had invited something related to Satan in such a holy place. I myself longed to run but had no where to go. The trees barred my way, wanting me to witness what an unholy creature I had invited, what sort of THING I had ruined their peaceful existence with.

I pounded my fists against the bark till they bled and screamed with the stream, shrieking that I wanted out and I wanted out NOW! And then another howl came, different from the wind and from the stream. It was bloodthirsty, wanting to devour me whole and leave nothing left. It hungered for the sound of children's bones snapping beneath its powerful jaws and desired the taste of the red wine of blood sloshing down its great furry throat. I screamed again, accompanying the wolf in its howl and for a moment we hit the same note of desire though for different wants. I desired to be out and it desired to have me. The wolf broke off its howl and I whirled around to find a new exit.

And then, astonishingly, it was before me, blue eyes glaring at me as if I had defiled IT'S serenity. The red fur was bristling with pent-up rage and hunger as it stared me, daring me to move farther or closer depending. I shouted again for Rose, but she didn't come. "Oh gods, please no! I don't want to die!" I shrieked, clawing at the trees behind me, beckoning them to MOVE!

But I was so far in my own world that I was beyond bringing back and now I was trapped with my worst nightmare: myself.

For a long time, we stared at one another, blue clashing with blue, till finally I sunk to my knees before it, still staring it in the eyes, and said, "Are you a gift or a curse? Can you heal or will you devour? Are you trapping me or giving me a new opening? What do you want of me?"

And then, in such a voice I have never heard before, "I want you....to trust me." It, no she, definitely a she, said the words carefully as if testing out a new power formerly unknown to her and then parted her jaws to show a vast amount of teeth, all pearly and white in the sunshine. It was as if she were grinning. "I want you to give me yourself as I will give you myself. I have waited so long, Ginny. So, so very long. Terribly long. I have grown tired of waiting for the perfect person made just for my spirit and just for me. I have grown weary of watching you grow into your power and knowing I couldn't do anything but wait. Accept me, completely and without harness and I shall give you what you long for. Freedom!"

My eyes filled with tears at the strange mix of sorrow and joy in her tone as she spoke, her voice echoing in my head like she spoke in a cave that was long empty and dark. "Haven't I accepted you already? With the Coranimagi? With the race through Hogwarts when I vomited blood?"

She growled as if silencing me and I did go suddenly quiet, amazed at her power and strength. "NO! You were still too weak then. Your mind was not yet ready, not yet able to handle it. That foul beast of a youth pushed you too far, too hard, and too long into a battle you could not stand for so long in. It is why you vomited up blood as if internally wounded, because, in fact, you were. You and I fought, though you didn't realize it I'm sure, inwardly, and finally I won because you had not yet welcomed me into yourself and given me yourself so I could give you myself. Our spirits battled inside you and thus, when I won, I had injured you inwardly, taking blood, and you vomited some of your spirit up. Now, you must accept me fully. I will give you myself and you will give me yourself. Our souls will merge and we will be stronger than before." Suddenly she growled in frustration, "Ah! I cannot explain it in human tongue! I shall just say the word. Perhaps you will understand the meaning: Ta'shilorn. It is.... perfect. The perfect binding. Oh, no such word in the human language can explain it completely. You shall just have to feel it and understand for yourself, Ginny."

And suddenly she tackled me and gave me a sort of hug around my shoulders, leaning her head to my neck and sniffing as if to test if I truly was ready for this Ta'shilorn thing and then pressed her nose to mine, forehead to my forehead, and breathed out just as I breathed in.

Instantly, the glade was no longer perfect. It was less than perfect, nearly dirty or like hell compared to such a beautiful perfection as this. A pervert would say it was the ultimate orgasm, a religious person would say it was like kissing God and totally understanding every essence of pleasure imaginable, I say that it was like heaven, a perfect fusion of things earthly and spiritually and something that was not even tangible. I felt, even without Riddle, complete and myself again and yet something more. I was like...like....

Super-Ginny.

Corny, I know, but so perfect and so much stronger and wiser that the term used above was the only one I could think of to describe myself. I seriously thought I could run up those thousand steps without thought, cheering and singing and skipping out of the Forbidden Forest and race everyone through Hogwarts and then go kick Riddle's bum right there when I got through swimming to the very bottom of the lake and playing with the Great Squid. It was like taking ten doses of ecstasy and realizing exactly who you were totally, without question, for the very, very first time.

With a snap, the wolf leaned back, totally content and seeming to feel what I felt at the moment and stared at me. "Wow." I said. Honestly, that's all I could think to describe. This Ta'shilorn thing couldn't, as she said, be explained in human terms because it was so perfect, so wonderful, so....otherworldly.

She nodded, odd enough since she was a wolf, and quoted, "Wow." And then she leaned into me again, laying beside me and laying her red head on my stomach in harmony with the rest of the world and said, "If you ever need to Change with me, just come back to this place, summon me, and we shall."

I nodded, almost sleepily, and said, "Hey, what should I call you? I can't just keep calling you Red Wolf every summoning."

She let out this weird coughing thing like she was laughing under her breath and said, "Shona. You can call me Shona."

River-Star2: Okay, I realize that this chapter wasn't as long as I wanted it to be or needed it to be but I'm just going to leave it off there. Two new mysteries to solve and a few things cleared. I didn't answer questions this time around because, well, I'm in a hurry because I need to catch a plane to California with my family for vacation for ten days, but when I get back, I'll see if I can edit this, maybe add a bit more, and add the thanks. However, I do want to clear something up: Yes, Adara is also Mina and therefore any union of those two would have been incest because Adara is Tom's daughter. Gross, I know, but Mina/Adara is doing everything in her power to become the most powerful woman in the 1900's and will do anything to get it. Adara is also Ginny's daughter and Nymeria's twin, though they don't look alike at all. Again, ask and you shall receive so pitch in some ideas, a few plot twists, maybe even a question or two and I'll get the answers for you. If you want to learn mythology, I can teach you that so maybe you'll understand a few things like what exactly happened during the Trojan War and so on and so forth. Just put your email in your little review thing and I'll start 'class' as soon as I get back from California. Okay? KK! !!!

IMPORTANT: I'm dreadfully, truly, and deeply sorry for not updating. I was literally grounded for a month from the internet for talking back to a teacher when I got back to school (hey, he asked a question, I saw it as my duty to answer, okay?) and then I got sick (still am sick, actually) I dropped my latin 2 class due to too much stress and my chemistry/algebra 2 grades are going down. --U the road of life sucks....luckily, there are idiots who provide entertainment along the way.

LOVE YOU ALL!


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four (is it twenty four?): Soul Mates

He skulked through the halls, his breath ragged with frustration, eyes glowing a sharp, bloody red. If anyone saw him, they would run or scream and then run but eventually they would run. And he would welcome it. It was wonderful watching people run away from him because it meant they were too afraid to hurt him or pause and wonder what his weaknesses were. It meant he had control over their fear.

Everyone would eventually run from him.

Everyone but her.

In his mind flashed an image of swirling red hair as red as his own eyes at the moment. Blue eyes like a virgin's first tears of sorrow. Skin as white as soft moonlight peeking through a black curtain. How he wanted her! How he desired her to BELONG to him!

And she had run from him.

That had hurt. Like a ton of bricks suddenly falling upon his rib cage and each of those ribs piercing through the muscle of heart that loved her and desired her. He had wanted to go after her in the snow because he wanted to keep her there. But she would then have known what his weakness was. She would have known it was her and run farther.

"Virginia," he said, leaning one hand against the wall and then raking his hand through his pitch-black hair. "Virginia Rushton…. Don't run from me. Why…WHY did you run? It doesn't matter now. Soon, you'll be mine. You'll have no place to run to but me and then…. Then I'll be complete. We'll be the missing halves finally fitting together so sweetly it will make you cry and I'll laugh." He let his back hit the wall solidly, almost knocking the breath out of him.

"Awww, that's so sweet I could cry too, Tom."

The voice rang through the hallway after him, a snake coursing over tile to wrap around his heart and constrict it. With an instantaneous action, Tom was staring at Mina Silverglass as if she were truly a snake. Perhaps she was. Perhaps Ginny was right and Mina was completely out for herself. Tom respected girls like that. Girls who didn't wait for things to happen to them but made things happen for them. And now staring at Mina, with her long black hair tossed to one side in a braid and her sparkling eyes glaring at him, he knew she was the epitome of that.

Then why did he want Ginny?

"Mina…" he said warily, "What the hell do you want?"

She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Those sweetly curving lips…. the exotic eyes… He was about to fall for her then kept himself from it. He wanted Ginny, never Mina. Never again anyway. "I want what you want, Riddle. I want to help you get Ginny. You see, she's important. Essential, one might say, for both of us. If you get her, I get what I for the rest of my life. Do you want my advice as to how to get her?" One of her black brows arched divinely and Tom found himself frustrated again.

Stupid women.

They were all bleeping crazy.

All of them needed to be placed in an asylum.

An asylum where he could visit them and do whatever he wanted, of course.

His eyes roamed her form doubtfully. "I don't honestly believe you could help me, dear," he answered, "but if YOU want help, there's an empty classroom three doors down and I'm sure the thin air would love to hear you because no one else does.

To his amazement, she laughed, tilting that splendid head back and letting loose a sound that would chill any ordinary man's bones. "You're funny, Tom. But it's funnier to watch you rant and rave about wanting something and then reject the easiest way to get her." She slinked over to him, dangerously appealing. "You see, at this very minute, your little Rushton doesn't need you anymore. She's found a substitute. The Wild Mages. They've given her the splenda to your sweet n' low. She doesn't need Coranimagi anymore, darling. Just she and that little shapeshifter trick she's got. But I know the way to make sure she still wants you. I know the way to FORCE her to want you."

He paused, thinking. Yes, he supposed, this would be much easier than wooing her to his side. Much less costly, much less…boring. "I'm listening, Mina."

"Tell me, Tom, what do you know about your bloodline?"

He grimaced, then snarled plainly, scaring even Mina with his vehemence. "I'm half muggle, half witch. Damn woman…."

She raised her eyebrow at him again and said, "Salazar Slytherin left something for his heir, when that heir did return. And now…he has. So I'll show you Salazar's secret and you get your Gin." She smirked then, happy at her joke.

Tom eyed her. "What secret?"

"A secret chamber, Tom. And it's all for you…." She whispered in his ear and led him away.

**GPOV**

I drifted between the realms of sleep and wakefulness, unsure which path to go. It was worse than a bus driver with horrible memory problems was, honestly. Left or right? Up or down? Dreams? Or awakening?

It was in this state that I heard voices.

"Faraday, you need to stop pacing. I'm sure she won't be like—"

"Like who? Like Hermione? Who said she was going to be like Hermione, Rose? No one did. I didn't say anything. Not a word. Why are you assuming that?"

The voice paused then answered tenderly; "I didn't assume that, Faraday. I was just trying to a comfort you. Let's not fight about this. Just…settle down. Take a breath. I haven't seen your diaphragm or your shoulders move in a minute and, personally, I don't think Virginia will like it if she wakes up with you passed out on the floor."

Another pause. This time it was more potent, like too much sugar in tea. I wanted to wake up, stir up the sugar and make sure it didn't lie at the bottom like it was doing now. "I'm sorry, Rose. I just…. I'm just so scared. This is the reason why our numbers have dwindled so much. I don't want to lose someone so powerful when we desperately need it."

"You know that's not all. You know that for the first time in five thousand plus years you've allowed yourself to love this child as if she were your Hermione. You're afraid of losing her like you lost your daughter. Worry not, Virginia is strong. She will last the Ordeal."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I felt it as soon as she walked through the bookshop…In fact, she's coming to right now."

My eyelids, on their own goshdarn free will, had indeed started to click open slowly. It was like waiting for the last minute of class to end before summer started. It took forever.

And when I opened them all the way, there was Faraday, eyes round and curious and worried, and Rose whose eyes were simply smiling.

Simply Rose.

"Rose! Faraday! You won't believe what I did!" I shouted, forgetting that there are echoes in caves and they DO bounce back.

Rose and Faraday winced, and the most beautiful woman of the Grecian world rubbed her perfect ear and blinked several times before smiling happily at me. "Oh, but we do, Ginny." Faraday said in her summertime sleepy voice, "Because we're all Wild Mages. We've all been through it. All felt the same joy of binding as you have. It's…bliss, isn't it?"

I nodded, suddenly emotional, and at the thought of me being emotional, I began to fume inwardly.

Let's go over one point here: Weasley girls don't cry. There are three reasons for this.

1) Since there are hardly ever any girls in the Weasley family anyway, we are mostly dominated by men, who basically have NO tear ducts. Thus we are raised in a society were no one cries unless some friend or family members dies. Then the tears ducts magically appear and all miracles get turned on like magical sprinklers.

2) Not only that. But after living with said boys and masculine influence for several years with a woman who, though she might be your mum, has raised seven boys and thus KNOWS when to say no even if you beg, scream, cry, hit, throw tantrum, etc. You realize that crying gets you absolutely NOWHERE. Basically, it's a pointless pastime that little rich girls who have time to dream can try but I ain't gonna waste my time on.

3) Honestly? Have you tried LIVING with Fred and George for fifteen years plus like I have?

Enough said.

So you know now why Weasley girls don't cry unless under pain of death or childbirth (which is like death, really, because…well…. yeah…)

Basically, I was breaking an Unsaid Weasley Code here by starting to cry before Faraday and Rose. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Plus, they were, really, my only understanding guides here. Other then them, I only had Hyacinth and Juniper. Riddle was just out to get my soul, Nymeria was about as close to me as a fish and Fenrir was…well, let's just face it, a direwolf.

And then there was Shona.

Gods, what a binding. It wasn't like marriage or anything that special or ceremonial, but it was like Shona and I were two halves of a missing whole. Soul mates, so to speak. She was always in the back of my mind when not prominently in the front offering wise advice and so on. Even after the very beginning of this strange joining, I felt as if I had known the red wolf forever.

Before me were two women who knew the feeling I was experiencing and testing and were happy to help. My mentors, my guides, my past mothers and guardians, I knew now that by passing this test of Wild Mages that I could tell them anything and they would guide and help in the best way they knew how. Considering that one of them was over five thousand years old, I considered the best as the best of the best.

And those tears were not tears of sorrow or missing as they had been before. Oh no. They were tears of absolute gratitude. Those were something only a three-year-old Ginny had attempted on her mother only to get blinked at and then laughed at with amusement.

"Yes, Faraday," I replied with some emotion I knew had been residing in me somewhere, "Bliss. A bliss of heaven."

Rose looked at me kindly and Faraday smoothed a piece of red hair from my brow in a motherly action.

"Now then," Faraday said with enthusiasm, "Let us get to the first lesson: changing without changing your mind!"

**TP--Third Person**

Rhea Uyana was a nice girl. Only eleven years old with mousy brown hair and mulberry colored eyes. To some in the Gryffindor house she was seen as a role model even though she was exceedingly young. To the select few that didn't see her as a role model, they saw her as a friend whom they could confess their greatest fears to and she wouldn't go tattle on them.

Yes sirree.

Rhea Uyana was as pure as the Virgin Mary before conception and just as pretty.

Her only fault, if Rhea could have one (and to everyone's dismay when they found out, she actually chose and attempted to have a fault. It didn't come naturally, you see) was her curiosity. It may not seem like that great of a fault to most people but Rhea had read the story of Pandora when she was a young witch and decided that she wanted to be just like her.

Minus the part where she opens a magical box and all hell breaks loose but hey, no one said she had to be a Perfect Pandora, just a Pandora of sorts.

There had only been two times in Rhea's life when she'd gotten in trouble for her forced curiosity and one of those times had been when she'd bitten a fresh cookie trying to see whether it was raisin or chocolate chip (darn buggers where always hard to tell) and her mother had gotten mad. And also when she'd written a letter to nowhere to see if someone actually lived in Nowhere. There was someone there, surprisingly, and it was in Arizona in the United States. Not so surprisingly, they didn't like her and told her in their next letter to quit sending a dratted buzzard to their house with a parcel. They didn't want it and they never wanted to hear from her ever again. Rhea had thought it was hilarious but didn't choose to send anymore. No reason to provoke the Americans, after all.

However, even in the wizarding world, third time's the charm.

The final catastrophe of curiosity that occurred to Rhea Uyana happened to be while she was walking through the halls of Hogwarts on her way back to class after an emergency call from nature. Adjusting her skirt a little and fixing her collar so that it didn't expose any indecent part of her, the pretty little girl heard a hissing noise.

Slightly curious, and forcing herself to think positive thoughts (she was deathly afraid of snakes), Rhea followed the sound. As she turned the corner and headed down the stairs, she thought she saw a tiny bit of a snake's tail. Eager to prove herself to her classmates (who wanted to be known as the one who ran from a small snake?) she turned the next corner, looked straight into a mirror and spotted…

Her world went dark and she found she couldn't move.

**GPOV**

Powerful muscles rippled under the red coat and a pink tongue lolled out of a mouth so perfectly carved that it seemed like a wolf god. The nose twitched at every slight smell, so ecstatic to be receiving something new. Those itching-to-be-wild muscles launched me into the air as a log presented a problem and suddenly I was….

Super Wolf.

With the power to growl and scare unsuspecting rabbits and leap over the slightest obstacle. Balto had nothing on me. Lassie wouldn't respond to that whistle as fast as I would and Benji? Puhleeze! That little mite may traverse through the random wildlife territory but, my dear little furry friend, I OWNED it.

So it was with great pride that I roamed over ice and snow, the winds wildly whipping around my equally wild form. I smelled the hungering scent of deer and rabbit and moles. My nose captured the life of centaurs and other mythical animals. And through it all, I was in complete control.

Though Shona sometimes urged me to chase a rabbit for fun (and I did because, honestly, who wouldn't?) she respected the fact that I was getting used to a new form and wanted to press all the buttons. Heck, I even went back and pressed some of the more colorful buttons twice.

It was as I was making my way through one part of a clearing that a new, awful smell reached me. It was vile, like inhaling too much Purell after just applying an overdose to your hands, and nauseating. (In my defense, Harry bought some in England and took it on the train and hey, it was gooey. You do NOT give me gooey, strange stuff and not expect me to smell it after meeting Fred and George.) Stranger yet, it was coming from Hogwarts.

_Shona?_ I asked, not bothering to conceal the fear in my tone. Would you conceal what was plainly written on your heart to your soul? I think not.

_Something's wrong, Ginny. I don't know what. I just know that this stench is coming from more than one part of the castle. Hurry! _She replied and the urgency in her tone only served to make me go faster with less care.

Logs, falling icicles, wild winds and the occasional startled deer were nothing for me. I darted around them, so completely overtaken by the idea that something so horrible could happen at Hogwarts with me that I didn't care. Tom, I knew, had begun his attacks. The attacks I could have prevented if only I'd been there. If only I hadn't run from him.

Maybe that's what caused this. Me running from him. I was what he wanted and I now knew Tom well enough to know he wouldn't stop for anything till he got what he wanted. Everything to him was a game. A carefully calculated game with no dice, no cards, and nothing but wits and words. Did I need to remind anyone that words are deadlier than the sword?

No, I didn't think so.

Like a pool of blood I launched myself from the body of snow I was running over and spread my conquered terrain from one inch to the next. Nothing was going to stop me.

_Shona, _I asked, no idea how to tell where one smell was permitting itself to seep from one place more, _where is most of the fear concentrated?_

My nose expanded, and I found only Ginny controlled the feet and mouth and ears and tail while Shona controlled the schnozzle solely.

_The healing area thing. Whatever you mortals call it. A feminine thing is there. Her blood is slow to spread through her body, to the necessary veins. It's like she's dead…_Shona answered hesitatingly. _Fear not, Ginny. We already know who's done this. We just need to prove it and stop him._

Reaching from some strange strength that Shona must have found within her body, I found that I could run even faster. Not surprisingly, I did so.

Whereas it took me two hours to reach the Wild Mages' hideout, it took me mere moments in Shona's body to reach Hogwarts. Parking my strong feet right outside the doorway of the castle, I changed from the Red Wolf to the Red Woman, my hair still on the slightly shorter side of life and my eyes changing to the bright, icy blue I was used to. Without hesitation, I fell against the wall, back first, and closed my eyes while leaning against it.

I found myself tired. More tired than any time of my life. Not just physically, but spiritually and magically drained. It was like walking through a desert for a day and night without food or water and realizing that though you'd thought you've attainted a mile from home, you'd been going in a very large circle. For a day and night.

Luckily, I was still fully clothed, something the Wild Mages had taught me. Before they'd learned to do this, Wild Mages only wore clothes in the wintertime. What was the point of wearing clothes in summer, spring, and fall if they were just going to be lost or magically gone when you became human again? None, which is why they did that. But then people began to disrespect the Wild Mages, count them as Satanic and so on. Then clothes were required to blend in. It took them weeks and months and a year to figure it out but once they did, their numbers dropped far more slowly than before.

I was back in my school uniform, with a warm cloak placed over my sagging shoulders, outside the doorway. Forcing myself back up, I opened the huge doors and marched up a series of stairs, then across the hallways till I reached the Slytherin dungeons.

Pounding on their portrait, I snarled at the guardian. "I don't want to hear an argument. I don't care about the school rules and I sure as hell don't care about what the Slytherins might do to me as soon as I enter their realm. Just swing the hell open before I decided to cut my way in with a wolf's claws." My eyes must have changed red. I felt a change in them and the portrait seemed to gape at me before swinging open obligingly.

My body froze a moment, and I looked up at the painting. "Thank you," I replied to its actions courteously and then stomped through.

Any Slytherin that was in there, no matter what they were doing, was suddenly up on their feet and glaring at me. One little girl, the closest to me, looked at me defiantly and said, "You're a Ravenclaw. You're not supposed to be in here." I shot her a glare, so full of anger and malice that she cowered suddenly and another Slytherin slithered over to comfort her, not shielding their hatred from me.

"Where's Tom Riddle?" I demanded, my rage still surging through my gaze. The people looked at each other, trading knowing glances then a leader for them spoke up.

"He hasn't been back since breakfast. Why do you want to know, Ravenclaw?" he asked, pushing a strand of white-blonde hair back from blazingly blue eyes. His stance told me he thought he was better than I was. The smell my newly heightened senses donated to me said he was as afraid as the little girl I'd glared at.

"None of your business. What about Mina Silverglass? Is she here?" I commanded. My throat was burning from the cruelty I was placing on them. They were, technically, innocent of the crimes Riddle was committing as we spoke. But still, my howling anger wouldn't relinquish its need to sink its teeth into anything that looked at me with distaste.

"Not since Riddle left," one of her cronies answered. This was the one who'd held me down while Mina chopped off my hair. This was a girl who knew to be afraid and how to show it. Her hands were shaking and her knees practically knocking together from fear of my rage.

"I see." I said and then stormed out with any more words or glances.

I knew where to go.

It took me only a few moments to reach the girl's bathrooms. I stared at the sinks, memories flashing back so suddenly I couldn't help but wonder why they wanted to invade my mind at such a crucial point.

Images of Tom and I dancing our weird dance of insanity when I was eleven raced back. And when he'd hurt me. When he'd coerced me.

My hands were white where they clenched the sink with the serpent etching inside. I looked at them with disgust. It was the wrong time! The feeling I had towards my memories rushing back like river rapids was probably the feeling a pregnant woman had towards labor starting during a camping trip. Wrong time, wrong place, damn life's little games!

And suddenly, just like that, my anger vanished.

Anger is useless, you see, when its misplaced and in the wrong time. Sure, my memories were recurring in the wrong time and wrong place, but then so was my anger. I was angry with Tom because of the way he'd responded to me running away. The fact was I was doing what Tom would do.

I was reacting to this all wrong.

I shouldn't have snapped at the little girl.

I shouldn't have just barged into the Slytherin Common Rooms demanding answers and feeding fuel to the fires of hatred that had no doubt sparked up against me already.

Hell, I shouldn't have run from Tom either.

I was doing all the things that Tom would do in my situation, except for the fact that, you know, I didn't murder anyone ruthlessly and leave them as a example of what not to do. It made me sick to my stomach, to be honest. I was so close to becoming a feminine Voldemort, minus all the snakes and blood and guts flying, but still on the edge. My reasoning and logic was going down the tubes with every passing second.

_Shona, I'm scared,_ I said with an odd shake in my mind's voice.

_I know, Ginny. _She replied with comforting steadiness, _I know that you are but you've already accomplished something Tom hasn't._

_I don't feel like I've accomplished anything. Just a huge mess that's going to trip me later and laugh at my shame._

_No, Ginny. You KNOW what you're doing wrong. You see it and you're already combating the darker feelings in you. Maybe it's the love and care everyone feels towards you. Maybe it's the way that you've already turned your soul to the light side of things. Either way, Tom doesn't have the part of you that the strongest. If he'd taken the weaker parts, the fact is you wouldn't last long under this anger. You'd give into hatred and revenge too easily. He's already done it. You haven't. You've won where he has lost. Be proud, Ginny. Be strong, be proud, and be merciful and loving. These are the things that will win Tom over. These are the things that will help you love him._

I stood there, still leaning on the sink and shook my head forcefully. _Shona, I don't love Tom. I can't. He's too…_

_But you do. You know it. He's so cultured and cruel, and you're so wild and loving. Together, you make the perfect match. You negate his cruelty, and he negates your wild nature. In him, you'd find the ultimate peace and you know it. Why you run from him, I don't know. But I do know that you were brought back to this time period for a reason and something tells me that your heart is part of it. Go to him, Ginny. Show him that his cruelty isn't necessary. We can stop this problem before it gains head and destroys this school and these people._

_Alright, Shona. But I don't love him!_

_Yeah, yeah. Just shut your mind mouth already and say the words to open the sink._

So I did, and into the darkness we plunged.

**Break for Popcorn and Beverages**

It was just as I remembered it.

Cold.

Dark.

Dank.

And utterly creepy.

The Chamber of Secrets was nothing to be forgotten and yet forgotten it had become. There was something here, written and ensorcelled in its simple elegance, that shouted to you "Remember me! I'm here! See me! Listen to me!" But then again, maybe that's why it was forgotten. Maybe even Salazar found his chamber, when he finished it, just too demanding on the mind. Too elegant, too conniving, too seductive. Maybe that's why he hid it from the world of scholarly youth and that's why it succeeded in being forgotten for centuries.

In any case, I had not forgotten and walking past the snakeheads that screamed at me I heard the Chamber whispering to me again, "Remember me! I'm here! See me! Listen to me!" And as I walked down the slippery path, my eyes trained on Tom's dark eyes that were so full of desire and that unnamed feeling, I felt part of me change. Part of me became the Chamber. Part of me became to whispering voice.

Remember me.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," I said to him. My voice sounded even and projected so nicely in the Chamber that even the basilisk in Salazar couldn't ignore me. "You hurt that child. She might never come out of her paralysis. Are you so eager to have me that you'll force the innocent to suffer?" I had reached him, sliding up before him, eyes staring up at him beneath eyelashes that were finely curled to the point of perfection, as they had been when I was born.

I'm here.

"Yes," he murmured, reaching forward and letting a strand of my fiery hair drift through his fingers. Already I found myself falling towards him headlong in my heart. Here was completion. Here was paradise ready to be reached and touched and caressed with all the joy in my soul. "I want you. So I'm going to get you."

See me.

My breath caught in my throat at those words. A small voice in me chanted nononononono. The larger part said that here was acceptance. Here was unleashed desire. Everything I'd ever hungered for waiting for me with open arms. And yet… "It was wrong," I argued, "You don't have to do those things for me. All you have to do is accept the fact that part of me always will rebel from you. And part of me…" I didn't want to say the truth. For all I stood for, at the crucial moment, my lips stopped and I licked them because they were so suddenly dry. I was back in the desert again. Soulfully tired, soulfully aching and wanting the water to keep me roaming. Here was my water. Here was the strength to block the sun from my eyes and keep going towards the goal.

Listen to me.

I turned my head to the side, searching for a reason to propel the words that were there, hanging in the closet in my heart, ready to be said and worn with pride. Were they really there? They were. My head turned back towards him, the strand still gliding there between his pale, long, strong fingers. "And part of me will always want you so much that it hurts."" There. It was said. My hands were outstretched towards the fountain of water in the desert, ready for the water to come pouring into them.

Remember me.

Tom didn't disappoint. The hand holding that strand of hair drifted down, over my shoulder, past the cloak, to my waist. It drew me to him and I went, the thirsty before the water bearer. His other hand, which had been hanging limply at his side, tilted my head up from behind, frightening me at first with its forcefulness. I went stiff as his lips pressed equally forcefully on mine.

I'm here.

He seemed to understand, suddenly, my hesitation. His hands gentled, his lips lessened the force and I melted in his hands. It was so good that his hand was holding my waist. Otherwise, I'd have fallen down and brought him down with me. As we kissed, my own hands found themselves first against his chest, then around his neck, hanging limply from the wrist behind his shoulders.

See me.

The hand on my waist drifted, touching the top of my skirt, then my thigh. Instead of pulling back like I would have done before, I pressed myself against him further, afraid that I truly might fall down. He responded by moving the hand holding my head to my waist and helping me go closer. And suddenly, even being so close that every part of me was somehow touching him wasn't close enough. I had to be part of him. Connected or something. Strangely, the thought appealed to me and I moaned at the heat of his kiss.

Listen to me.

By all means, his tongue went into my mouth and though it might seem repulsive to others, it felt natural to me. I played a game with it, to be honest, the way a cat would a mouse. And none of it seemed disgusting. None of it seemed like overstepping the boundary lines of my life.

Remember me.

Suddenly we were on the floor, his hands roaming, our kiss suddenly breaking as he looked at me with a question in his eyes. I drew him back down to me, a kiss as a yes, and his hands started working the buttons on my shirt clumsily. He's a virgin, I realized with shock. We both are. And here we were on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, trying to figure out the secrets of our hearts and bodies. But this wasn't a precise game, like the ones Tom was used to playing. It was one of guessing. One where you could either fail miserably or somehow make it the best.

Remember me…

"Honestly, you two are worse than animals!" a mocking voice said and I heard faintly the click of hard soled shoes against the marble here. My face flamed red with sudden humiliation and the sudden memory of my vixen thoughts. Tom, above me, looked less ashamed.

He looked up with a bored look on his face, so different from his facial expression a moment before when I had both spoken to him and when I gave a yes to his question using my lips. "And honestly, Mina, what is your point?" he replied with derision. "You're worse than a small, furry rodent who won't leave me alone but I'm not complaining. Oh wait, I just did. So sorry."

Mina glared at him, flicking a strand of black hair back. For a moment, jealousy flared in me as I stared at her. Tom had liked her once. Liked her more than me. Was she still a rival?

_Oh gods, I'm becoming a jealous woman! Next thing you know colors will began to be dim and food will lose its taste when Tom's not around! I'm becoming obsessed…EW! _I thought to Shona. She let loose a snarl that I now knew was her laughter.

"And you, Virginia. Not living up to your name, are you?" she asked, raising a black eyebrow in question. If possible, I turned even redder.

"It's okay, Mina. I know you're just doing this because you're jealous that you're not on the cold, hard, slightly damp floor of the Chamber. You're welcome to come and lay down next to me if you'd like." I smiled sweetly at her and received a very interesting point of view on her finger instead.

It was a very nice finger too.

Long, pale, and strong, just like Tom's. Except hers was manicured to perfection and had black nail polish on it that was starting to come off.

Oh, and her finger looked like it would gladly scrape out my eyes from their sockets but I pretended not to notice that.

"Leave us, Mina. You've gotten what you wanted, I have what I want, and apparently it's going to be happy night now. Leave." Tom commanded. Mina glared at him once more and then replied with a steely voice, "Don't use her all up at once, Tom." She then turned and stomped out.

"Tom," I said in a voice that I could hardly recognize, "What did Mina want?"

He looked back down at me, placing his weight on his elbows so he wasn't crushing me anymore. The obsidian eyes were thoughtful and caring as they looked at me, something I never thought to see on Tom Riddle's face. "She wanted the exact same thing I wanted, surprisingly, and nothing else. In exchange, she showed me the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk."

My expression was as thoughtful as his was but not nearly as caring. Already my mind was racing down corridors of thought. Tom might not know it, but this chess game of ours was being played throughout more than one decade. Mina could be…. someone from the future. Didn't Nymeria mention a sister? Someone who made her mute through an early spell? Could Mina be that sister? Could she have truly traveled back the way Nymeria does to reach this place but instead stay and warp things? Was she the poison to Nymeria's antidote?

My red haired daughter was attempting to make sure I didn't join with Tom. That I didn't marry him and have the children I was supposed to that would give him only a rise in power. If Mina wanted us together, if she was willing to do anything to get us to the point where I was married to him and pregnant with the children, then she was likely the sister, my second daughter, and just as cruel and ambitious as Tom.

It was then I realized something….

She'd dated her father!

Nastiness…

Just as ambitious then and just as cruel without any regard for the rules. Like Tom, I thought, in every aspect except physical.

I looked up at him, wondering. Children with Tom… The process itself, from my past reactions to this affection, wouldn't be unpleasant. But children like that? I would prefer to have myself barren as the Wild Mages professed I would be in fourteen more years, then have a child like Mina.

"And what has made you so quiet, Ginny?" he asked me, every bit of lust and love in his face. I blinked, shook my head and then twist my head away as he bent his head down to kiss my lips. Instead he only got my cheek and had even the grace to look annoyed. "What's wrong? The moment I finally have you and you're as cold as ice."

I twisted my head back towards him and said with equal annoyance, "The marble I'm lying on is colder and YOU'RE complaining?" I let loose a snort that astounded him further.

A grin suddenly came across his face that made me stiffen and fear for my soul. "Cold?" he asked, "Fine. We'll go someplace else." Then, without so much as a by your leave, those wonderfully passionate hands gripped me and when he clambered back to his feet he yanked me up and into his wonderfully passionate arms.

It was so brilliant that I wanted to wonderfully passionately punch in his grin and make sure he never smiled again.

Once again, I'm a Weasley. We fight till the last one's down.

Or at least we do unless it's Lord Voldemort. Then it's hike up your gosh darn skirts and run for the highest hill.

Or the deepest river if you're in Kansas in the United States which, I found out from a pen pal, is incredibly flat and boring. Seriously. Rain doesn't move from where it falls it's so flat and hesitates to sink into the boring ground.

In any case, Tom hauled me from the Chamber of Secrets to his room in the Slytherin dungeons and threw me, literally onto the bed. Did I describe how nice this bed is? Compared to the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, its Cloud Nine, really. I mean, heaven probably doesn't compare.

Well, maybe it does but then again, I've never been to heaven, so technically I wouldn't know.

But this is the time when I get into trouble.

Remember how I said I was really, incredibly tired after changing from wolf to human that day? Remember how I was even more tired down in the Chamber of Secrets? Yes, well, it turns out that no matter how turned on you are by a certain King of Future Tortures and President of the magazine Pillage and Murder Weekly, you will fall asleep on his bed from being that tired.

And he WILL not be happy when you wake up.

So, needles to say further, I fell asleep almost as soon as I hit the soft part of his bed. My body almost sighed from relief of finally being able to rest and recoup.

The last thing I heard and felt was a sigh of resignation from Tom and his whisper so close to my ear it sent chills down my spine. "I'll get you later then," he whispered and then kissed the spot on my neck where the very necessary vein lies and wrapped his arms around my waist.

The world went black and I slept curled up against him as a cat would.

**TP**

In the darkness of Riddle's room, a shape stared down at the two slumbering people before her. They lay there, open as a sacrificial lamb, and as they slept they were just as innocent.

She could end this all right now. She could easily press the blade to Riddle's neck, spill his blood all over Ginny and then leave as quickly as she had come. After all, they could never blame her. You couldn't blame someone who was never born.

But she looked at this two people, laying there with his arms wrapped around her waist so gently it was like he thought she was made of glass, and knew his death was not to be. The future had as many possibilities as impossibilities and she knew that trying to murder her father would be as impossible as killing her mother.

In that moment, Nymeria remembered all the hugs, kisses, and whispers of love her mother had given her when she'd first had to deal with being mute.

No, she could never kill her mother.

She could never spill Ginny's blood all over these Slytherin sheets.

Nymeria was not her twin.

She was not Mina.

She was not…Adara.

In a small glimmer of light, Nym left her parents sleeping there and went back to her time, where things were happening that she could either prevent or help along.

**GPOV**

I awoke in the morning by opening my eyes without faltering. Most people's eyes fluttered open but mine had already made up their minds beforehand and didn't waste time fluttering.

Therefore, it was slightly (and I say slightly because I don't like to exaggerate here) disturbing to see a pair of black orbs staring back at me through the sleepy haze.

In fright, I jerked back, causing the sheets to tangle around me and as I flailed to get them off, I flipped off my side of the bed and yelped. My head hit against a hard cobblestone and I knew that it was possibly bleeding now. Definitely a goose egg, I thought to myself.

_You're such a morning person, Ginny, _Shona noticed with an amused tone.

_I hope that was sincerity for your sake, Shona, _I replied back and said, "Owww…. Riddle, you need to get softer stones down here." The world spun as I lifted the small pale doves that were my hands to check the back of my head.

It stung and I blinked harshly to deny access to the tears that were building up there.

"Oh right, I'll be sure to do that after I allow more light in the room, dispel all the murderous feelings towards you, and make you Queen of the Universe." He replied coolly, observing with amusement the way I glared at him. His head was angled over my side of the bed, right over the edge so that one little…

Tom flipped off the bed, courtesy of my grip, and landed right next to me.

I stood; dusting myself off and readjusting my school uniform with a grace I didn't even know existed in me. "I prefer Empress of the Universe, Riddle. Queen is just a little too…below me." I smirked at him, mocking his usual expression and then thought, okay, first victim of Lord Voldemort is Ginny Weasley. Why? Because she's a smart alec.

Ah well, it's better than being a dumb one, eh?

"It's one of few, isn't it?" he shot back, eyes glittering with more amusement and slightly a bit of mischief.

I glared. "I have you know that there are many other people smaller than me." I retorted with a surprising amount of calm.

"Are they old and feeble or dwarves?"

"It's your grandmother, Riddle."

"The one on my father's side or mother's?"

"Father's, naturally."

"Why his side?"

"Because he's as short as I am, naturally."

"Actually, he and I are the same height, Rushton darling."

"Sure, and I'm the daughter of Santa Claus."

"I knew there was a family resemblance. The belly gave it away!"

"I have you know my belly is perfectly toned and fine, thank you."

"So how are the elves, Miss Claus?"

"They're wonderful. Shorter than me and wonderful."

"Any family photos?"

"No, you great lummox."

"If I'm a lummox, then you're a ninny."

"Retard."

"Moron."

"Jerk."

"Goose."

"Snuffalophogus!"

"Snuffa who?"

"A Snuffalophogus."

"What on the wide earth is that?"

"A thing that snuffles."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Where can I find this snuffathing?"

"In your head with the rest of the people that live there."

"I'm so hurt."

"I'm sure you are. Now get up or I shall be forced to pull you up."

"I'd like to see you try."

There was a long silence while I suffered the attempt of pulling Riddle up. Naturally, he didn't budge. Well, unless you wanted to count him scooting along the floor a few feet with this amazing expression that reminded me of a person being pulled through a tunnel waaaaaay too small for them. I finally sat down and stared at him, wide eyed. "Great monkey of Scotland, boy. You weigh a ton."

He looked at me for a moment before replying very seriously, "It's your fault for making all those cookies, Miss Claus."

I glared at him. "Are you calling me fat?"

"No, I'm calling you a cookaholic. Now stop making those thrice damned cookies or I shall be forced to take your mitts away."

I faked a faint. "Oh no! Not my blue mitts with the yellow duckies on them that go quack when the cookies are done."

"Yes," he said with calm, "The blue mitts with the yellow duckies on them that go quack when…err…. Oh yes, when the cookies are done!"

"Say duckies again."

"What?"

"Say duckies again?"

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No, I remember where I buried it. Now say duckies again!"

"Fine. Duckies."

I started to giggle then I reached over and poked him, causing him to look slightly shocked and annoyed. "Say it again!"

His brow furrowed for a moment and I realized somewhere in the back of my head that I was joking around with the later murderer of my crushes' parents.

Bad Ginny. I need a doghouse. And I need a lock. And I need to lock myself into the doghouse.

"Duckie."

I laughed full out this time, causing him to jump. Something in me reminded me that he'd never heard me laugh full and truly before. All my fear had evaporated in me after yesterday. I had realized I had Tom Riddle. It was like putty in my paws, ready to be molded and played with. With me standing by him, he wouldn't hurt anyone because he had no need to. Without me, he'd be the bulldog of England without a chain, eager to attack any nation to grab me.

I was all-powerful.

It was sorta scary.

And sorta cool.

In a scary way.

It was then that I leaned over, still laughing, and kissed Tom on the lips of my own free will, just because I could. Everything sobered, every moment focused on that one bit of memory and I could almost hear the gods sigh in either resignation or joy. Did they like this little show of affection? Did the want Tom Riddle to go absolutely bonkers and murder countless amounts of halflings and muggles?

What was their plan?

How could I keep him so close to me that I could stop him when the time came? How could I negate his cruelty with my kindness and he negate my wildness with his cultured appeal?

When was the next attack?

**Fin of this Chappie**

River-Star2: Okay, I realize that Riddle is starting to become slightly out of character. Ginny might be too. Ergh…You have no idea how many times I had to start this chapter over because none of the beginnings and openings for it seemed right. It was completely irritating. Hopefully this is pleasing and hopefully all my inspiration will come back. R&R, people, because I love you. MWUAH! Tosses out kisses and huggles and roses

Yes, I do read Tamora Pierce and Isobel Carmody and so on. I love those authors and that is where I get some of my ideas. I even write poetry. Lol. And sing, and dance, and play an ocarina. I'm a muse in my own right. Winks

Ta duh!


	25. Mother and Daughter The explanation

Chapter Twenty Five: Mother and Daughter

In an ancient Greek myth, Demeter, goddess of harvests and grain, lies with Zeus and bears a daughter named Persephone whose hair is dark as shadow in night and whose eyes are bright as honey at the dawn's first wink. From the very first, Demeter and Persephone love each other so much that the mother and daughter can almost never be parted.

In fact, it is a common scene to see the gorgeous Persephone clinging to her mother's skirts as she grows, then to her mother's hand. It is an odd sight to see the daughter of the harvesting goddess away from her mother but one day, Persephone, called Core then, decided to go out with her friends, the nymphs, and gather flowers for a celebration. It is Core's fifteenth birthday and she is thus considered a woman and will stop growing in her form and stay eternally young.

Demeter lets her daughter go, with reluctance and tells Core to watch for any odd flowers. "Do not pick them," the mother of Core says strictly, "it might be a trick from my brothers and sisters or my nephews. Be careful daughter." With that, Demeter lets Core go to the meadow and regrets it for the rest of her years for Core is kidnapped and raped by Hades, god of the dead, her uncle. Her name changes to Persephone and she becomes Queen of the Dead, beautiful and untouchable. She eats six seeds of a pomegranate from the land of the dead and therefore must spend six months in Hades and six months with her mother. The six months when she is gone, Demeter lets nothing grow from grief causing winter and fall. When Persephone is back the flowers grow, children are born in warmth, and happiness reigns supreme.

The mother and daughter are rejoined and all is right with the world.

With Nymeria and I, it was different.

I'm not going to say I complained about it. I mean, honestly Nymeria and I didn't know each other that well. It was like walking up to a complete stranger who looks older than you and saying, "Oh, hey, I'm your daughter that you didn't even know you had. I'm actually from the future. Isn't that a kick?"

No, actually, it's not.

But Nymeria had never done that. She had come back from the future and simply told me that I couldn't marry Tom or be with him. Otherwise, something akin to the end of the world would happen.

Thanks.

Nice to know I cause the end of the world.

No stress, really.

Just…. Thanks.

The thing was, something had begun to grow in my heart for Nymeria after I became something with Tom. Something like…. matronly feelings. It's weird, I assure you, to have matronly feelings for someone who looks a lot like you, speaks from her mind, and has more wisdom than you'll possibly ever had. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was impossible but it was happening to me then so I was pretty shocked.

One day in the winter, I got bored of classes, bored of Tom's constant stares of either amusement or annoyance and his smirks and scheming, bored of…life. I felt confined, for once, at Hogwarts.

The wolf in my heart needed to get something new to chew on and the wolf in my mind was sleeping anyway.

Thus, in search of adventure and a kick into my dull, blocking life, I went to the place everyone in Hogwarts goes to get a few more bruises and better stories:

The Slytherin Common Room.

Just kidding. Really had you there, didn't I?

Nevermind.

Anyway, I went to the only place I actually had complete access to, where no one shot me evil glares (okay, they did, but not as much), where Fenrir couldn't follow, and where I might find something amusing: the library.

It was the place where I had met Nymeria (was it the first time?) and where I'd learned of my choices. It was here, in this room with its dusty shelves and bare spines with ornate lettering, that Hermione would discover about the Basilisk and Harry would read it and come to my rescue. It was here where I would complete my assignments in Hogwarts when I was still a first year, then second, then third, then fourth. It was here where I realized my crush for Harry was over. And it was here where I was going to have my curiosity served.

Normally, a person goes into the Hogwarts library and sits at one of the tables and finds a book and reads it. Perhaps they'll do homework, perhaps not. Either way, they do something that doesn't have any major bearing on everyone else's life.

Everyone else being defined as the entire world's population.

I didn't sit at a table that day, nor did I drop my bags off by a chair and find something to read. I had nothing to drop off. I had come empty handed except for the questions I was going to hurl at Nymeria when I summoned her from whatever weird thing she was doing.

Thus I headed for a place I knew no one went to and before you get any ideas, I did NOT go to the Restricted Area. I may be desperate, but I'm not that bloody desperate. In any case, I went to one of the empty rows of books and sat down, my legs before me in all their glorious nature. For a moment, I stared at them, thinking, 'Great monkeys of Scotland I'm pale!' and then realized that by studying my legs, I was trying to stall.

This isn't right, I thought. I'm Ginny. I'm a bloody Weasley. We aren't afraid. I've even seen dragons up close and personal. I've been in the same building as Lord Voldemort. Heck, I even made out with the dratted old coot in his younger form. Why am I afraid of my daughter?

But I was. I was deathly afraid of learning the path I could choose if I stayed by Tom's side and never wavered. I was afraid of Nymeria looking at me with something akin to contempt or like I was a complete stranger. Nymeria might have been my daughter, but I wasn't her mother as far as time was concerned. As far as ANYONE was concerned, actually. According to life's little games, I was a virgin and Nymeria didn't exist. Any memories and feelings that should have been there weren't there so it truly was like a meeting of strangers.

She hasn't rejected you so far said a voice in my head.

Let me guess…. You're my conscience, aren't you?

Yes, I decided it's time for a visit.

Brilliant.

Well, I certainly thought so.

I'm glad my conscience has more thoughts than I do but honestly she has every reason to say "Figure it out for yourself" and leave in a huff.

Oh, she won't. She's nice, Nymeria is. You're thinking too much about this. You need to just say her name and get it over with.

But what if…

WOULD YOU SHUT UP AND DO IT ALREADY! Jeez! I mean, it's bad enough that I only get to inject my opinion once and awhile, and even then I'm not listened to, but I've also gotta be YOUR conscience, the only LOGICAL and REASONABLE side of you.

I have many logical points to make.

Only because I put them there, now say Nymeria's name and get your damn questions answered, girlie, or I shall be forced to give you a bloody headache. She's always treated you as a friend, an ally, and a companion. The idea of you summoning her when she might be in the middle of it won't bloody well change anything you miserable weasal.

EXCUSE YOU!

No, thank you though. Now say her damn name.

I didn't see the point of arguing with the voice that claimed to be my conscience anymore. The ground in the library was cold anyway and I could feel it through my school uniform. For some reason though, the cold didn't make me shiver. Instead it only strengthened my resolve. After all, once I asked my questions, I could get out of there and off the freezing floor.

"Nymeria," I whispered the name.

Instantly there was a shimmer in the air, as if something were displacing it, and in a milisecond, my daughter was there, looking down at me with those kind, bright blue eyes. "Ginny," she said in a concerned tone, "Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

I blinked. Who was being the mother here? Great scot, I felt humiliated. My daughter worried about me more than I did. I opened my mouth and spoke. "Yes…No…Yeah…" my voice came out as helpless as a child's to my horror. "Tom's just attacked a girl named Rhea who apparently was a Gryffindor sweetheart and I've fallen in love with him. I've joined to a wolf named Shona and apparently I'm nearly a full fledged Wild Mage with the natural understanding of it all. In any case, what's up with you?"

A smile fleetingly crossed the pretty face before me and a flicker of wry amusement chased the concern away with its teeth bared in the blue eyes. "I'm fine, Ginny. There's another reason you called me though. You've never called me before because, well, you find your own way around things but either way, I'd like to know why you summoned me." Her eyes were kind still, and for a moment I thought, 'If I were Catholic, she'd be my Virgin Mary.'

It was true too. Even though her hair was a wavy red waterfall and her skin was pale like snow, rather than the Israeli tan color with the black hair covered by blue cloth, she'd be my Mary. It was the compassion in her eyes. The way she stood as if to say, "Come to me. I'll understand you and protect you and love you. Just let me in."

So I stared at her then asked the first of my questions, "Is Mina your twin sister Adara?"

She smiled again, a sly smile, before her mind voice washed over me like the ocean's tide over a beach. "Yes, Ginny. I thought you'd never know but now I see that all our cleverness doesn't just come from our father. Mina is Adara and she will use whatever means necessary to make sure that she and I are born from your union with Tom. Even if it means using incest to do it."

My mouth dropped open from pure shock and disgust. How on earth had I given birth to an incestous daughter? "The ambition obviously comes from her father. One thing I don't understand. Well, another thing I don't understand among many is that one time you shouted the name Telemachus and left me here wondering what the heck happened. Can I have an explanation?"

The smile disappeared like rain in a desert. Its replacement was a grief so deep I wished passionately that I'd never noticed how she'd disappeared after saying Telemachus and wondered. I wished that I had hit my head on the way to the library and forgotten Nymeria and my questions. I wished I was dead.

"Telemachus…" There was a longing in that voice, and I wondered if it was her husband. A fog closed over her sorrowful eyes and I was reminded of the tale of Deirdre of Sorrows. She looked at me and the fog seemed to clear as if sunshine had burst through it. Without hesitating, she sat before me, with her knees folded and said in her mind to mine, "To let you understand Telemachus, you must understand your union with Tom."

I nodded. This had been one of my questions and apparently this was one of the doors that opened upon my descendents.

She sighed, looked away at a book, then turned back to me. "If you marry Tom, after maybe thirty years of barreness, you will bear him twins: Nymeria and Adara. Adara will be dark haired, green eyed, and completely ruthless in her ambition. Nymeria will prefer solitude and because I am your favorite, Adara will curse me with being mute for the rest of my life. You spend years teaching me to use my mind to communicate and when it finally works at the age of ten, a day after my application to Hogwarts arrives, the celebration is eminent. It is at Hogwarts where I join the house of Gryffindor and Adara joins the house of Slytherin. I meet Harry and we become fast friends. Adara is in constant attendance by Draco, a childhood friend of ours who gave her the words to curse me into muteness for fun.

"By our fourth year, it's obvious Adara loves Draco as much as her black heart can but he doesn't love her. He wants me and meets opposition by Harry. Adara grows jealous because I have two men after men and I'm just a mute girl! Compared to my twin, I was plainer than…than a cup of water. But either way they both liked me. I fell for Draco, after struggling a bit. What girl wouldn't when dealing with the man who'd muted her forever?

"Soon after school ended, we married and two years later I had a child named Telemachus. It means 'Final Battle' in Greek. At the birth of his son, something finally snapped in Draco's mind. He suddenly couldn't take the world with something as vile as Voldemort in it, so he stepped up to the plate and attacked the wizard." She paused, the sorrow now writhing in her eyes like a dying thing. It was horrible to watch, but I did it because I had to know.

And in all honesty, who WOULDN'T want to know what happens to everyone after they die?

In any case, after a deep breath, Nymeria continued, voice solemn in my mind. "He failed, of course. Voldemort killed him and was set to go after Telemachus, in case he grew up and wanted vegence. Only fast thinking on your part saved my son. You hid us, you see, in the Forbidden Forest, in a cave that was created by the Wild Mages. They hid us as well, protected us. For twenty years my son grew without knowing the outside world and not for lack of trying. I unleashed him into the wizarding world, for I had taught him spells as dutifully as any mother. And when he emerged from the Wild Mages' cavern, so too did I.

"The first person I went to was Harry, naturally. We'd been friends growing up and we pledged to always be friends. Amazingly, his feelings hadn't changed. Not since we were both children, learning the ways of Gryffindor. I asked him how Ron was. He said that Ron and Hermione had been married for more than twenty years, with three children."

Without saying anything about Harry's appearance to me, I had a solid picture of it. Nymeria's mind not only projected words but pictures as well, and so I saw Harry at the age of forty. His hair,once black as pitch, had streaks of gray in it from worry and too much stress. There were lines around his mouth and on his brow. His glasses were a bit crooked and his clothes a little messy. But those green eyes stood out, as beautifully as before, without complaint and the only emotion in them was concern and weariness.

I saw Nymeria at the age of forty and she still looked fifteen with her wavy red hair and bright blue eyes. She moved with grace so unearthly that people stopped to wonder what she was: human or angel? And her white dress as pure as her heart never picked up dirt. Compared to Harry, she was youth incarnate and he resembled an old fool. Through this cloud of images came my daughter's voice, calm as a goddess', "He asked me how I'd been getting along and I said Draco died from trying to fight Voldemort. I told him about my son Telemachus and I saw a flash of pain and at the same time love in his eyes, battling one another. Telemachus, I told him, was going to fight Voldemort now with his heart in his throat and as well wrought as the Wild Mages made for him. Harry paled and in that moment I knew something was wrong. I stopped only to come back to you and tell you not to marry Voldemort and so on. It was, I knew, Telemachus' last breath that day. It would have been better, or so I thought, if none of us had ever been born. If you'd found a way back to your time period and married Harry like life was supposed to do for you."

Nymeria shook her head, as if in disbelief that the gods could be so cruel.

I already knew that. Here I was, after all, the girlfriend of the murderer of my grandson and son-in-law. But I hadn't shed a tear. Or not as many as my daughter had.

The scary thing was the flashbacks came together, like a long string of clues that I hadn't been able to place. "You married Harry," I finished for her, "Telemachus died and you married Harry and bore him twins: Alix and Harry. He'll die, won't he? Harry will die trying to protect the twins from my husband and more tragedies will occur in this Greek drama." My face was pale, my fingers shaking from where they lay in my lap.

The truth had unfolded before me and I stared at it with my eyes closed, only to have them forcibly opened by past hints. I saw, suddenly, how Nymeria must believe as she did. She was right. If I stayed with Tom, it would cause more harms then good. It would end…. the world I knew. There would be no Virginia Weasley in the future, because she already existed in the form of Virginia Rushton. Tom's diary might be found, but not by me. It would be found by some unsuspecting girl, possibly Adara with her knack to ruin everyone's lives.

I was changing everything by being back here.

"Nymeria!" I looked at her, my eyes blazing brighter than ice being kissed by the sun. "You must help me get out of this time. If I stay here, hell will break loose. Everything will end. Everyone's life will be messed up." Tears began to spread down my cheeks, the snowflakes to join the icicles, and I stared at her.

Abruptly, her calm façade shattered and she began to cry, silent sobs making themselves known only in my head. "How?" she demanded between choking on her tears, "How are we supposed to stop what the gods have started? How do we go against their will?"

Through my veil of sorrow, I glimpsed the real Nymeria, my real daughter. Inside her was a raging torrent of emotions, all struggling to stay under the roof of calm. Now, they'd blown the roof off and I saw the question that had stayed in both our minds since the day both of us had been born, in different times and different places. The motherly feelings pushed in me again and I wrapped my arms around this frail child of mine that by rights shouldn't exist yet.

"Nym, you'll have to bring me back a time turner, from your era obviously. That way, I can go back to my time and we'll cut this feeble piece of thread the gods have placed mistakenly in their loom." My voice was pleading and for a moment, I realized what I was asking her. It was hard enough for me to get the time turner from Hermione in my time. How difficult would it be, in place where time turners were becoming rarer and rarer, for Nymeria to get her paws on another one and give it to me in yet another time?

But she didn't complain. Had she been me, she'd been starting at me in disbelief, protesting, making sarcastic comments. But this daughter of mine simply took what I threw at her and did it with grace. "It will take me until June, Ginny, but I'll do it."

And with that, Nymeria disappeared, a look of sheer panic on her face, and Tom took her place with anger on his features.

"So!" he whispered in a tone that sounded as though, well, he was going to kill me. "Here you are. In the library with some girl that looks exactly like you. You've betrayed me, Ginny. You were just plotting to get rid of me."

His eyes were the furious red that used to make me startle and attempt to run. This time, I didn't. I stood up, dusting off my skirts with as much honor as I could then heard him snarl. "Nothing to say for yourself? You're a little Clytemnestra, aren't you? Waiting till one day I come home and then you kill me with relish. Is that how it will be? Is it?" Without warning, I found my throat in his grasp and my body against a wall.

"Riddle! Riddle!" I struggled to get the syllables out, my air vanishing quickly. Damn him and his dratted strength! "Let go!"

"Oh, do be quiet, Virginia."

Well, there went the Ginny thing.

It was good while it lasted.

"Okay." I choked out, and the edges of my vision became darkened, as if death was ready to wrap me in a shroud and bear me to hell. A voice in the back of my mind, the one with a sense of humor, asked if it might be a good time to pray to God instead of the gods. Silence filled the library as he looked over me, with both love and hatred in his face.

"I should kill you. I should kill you and revel in it and laugh as your body crumples to the floor." He paused, observing my face, which was possibly redder than a tomato at the moment. "I should maybe let the basilisk kill you." And now there was fear in my heart. Not for the basilisk, heavens no. But for myself. The darkness was closing in even more, like scattered dots forming shadow pools at either side of my vision. "But I won't."

And yet still he held me so that I gurgled out of my throat, "Riddle! Can't…..BREATHE!"

"Oh yes. I suppose that's mildly important, isn't it?" He said with amusement.

DAMN HIM!

But he let go and I fell to the floor, coughing and attempting to get air in my throat. It came, like water in the desert, to me. Like Tom to me. I closed my eyes, loving the way my lungs moved and filled themselves with need. I'm not saying that I became a masochist, but in that moment, I loved being alive. Even the Restricted Section looked beautiful.

"Tom," I gasped out, "What the HELL? I was just talking to her and you decide to kill me for it?" Something as sharp as a needle pricked my heart and I wondered how much of the conversation Tom had heard. "Did you even HEAR any of it?"

I got up again, ignoring how my legs felt like wet sand and wobbled over to where he was. Once there, I straightened and glared at him. He looked back down at me and I realized with a grim realization that he was incredibly tall. And strong…. and handsome.

Still doesn't pardon the fact that he attempted to kill me in the Hogwarts library though.

"I refuse to dignify that question with an answer," he said and smirked at me.

Which meant no, he hadn't heard any of it. He just assumed. Wonderful.

I was dating a madman.

Well, he was Voldemort. What does one expect anyway, puppies and roses?

Nah. Too…safe.

He seemed to be waiting for a response, so I gave him one in the form of a faithful finger, which emerges once every year and only in dire circumstances. "Please do, Virginia," he retorted to it, rolling his eyes. "Now then, are we finished with these petty lovers' quarrels because I have an assignment to finish?"

I nearly choked all over again without the help of his hand. "Ex…EXCUSE ME? Petty lovers' quarrel? YOU JUST TRIED TO—"

"SHHHHHH!" the librarian had finally intervened and with a casual glare (it came as naturally as air to this woman, honestly) welcomed us to the library.

Tom glared at me as if it were all my fault and even dared to add his customary smirk. It was then that my temper snapped.

At this point, I seek to remind you that I am a redhead and while it's normally just a simple stereotype that we have horrible tempers I fit the stereotype.

Only after a lot of prodding and poking though.

Without warning, I grabbed his wrist sharply and hauled him into the hallway outside the library. Once there, I marched us both outside. I knew that he could have simply pulled back and I'd find myself stuck. Tom, after all, is incredibly strong for someone so tall and thin. It's amazing, actually, but I'm not about to boast about it. The fact is Tom let himself be tugged around by my personal chew toy for his own amusement.

As if that wasn't a kick in the stomach enough.

We were outside then, the world was brighter than inside Hogwarts and I felt Shona stir in me, looking for a random deer or rabbit and longing for the chase. The clouds overhead resembled spilled milk, the sun was a large gold coin in the sky, and at random moment's nature's symphony (birdsong) would let loose a few notes to give us a glimpse of heaven. This was a day when children should be outside, playing around, having fun, but instead we huddled inside in fear, wondering when the next attack was going to arrive and not so certain that it even would.

A grim reality, but then again…That's all reality has ever been anyway. Laughing, cold, harsh…Grim.

No one was outside much to my glee so I whirled, dropping his wrist as if it were a hot coal and let him have it.

"RIDDLE! YOU INSUFFERABLE SODDING GIT! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? DO YOU THINK THIS IS SOME CHESSBOARD? SOME SICK GAME TO PLAY AROUND WITH AND USE US ALL TO YOUR DISPOSAL? Well, you know what? I'M NOT YOUR GODSDAMNED PAWN! Stop treating me like some little girl who doesn't know anything because, bucky, I know a heck of a lot more than you ever will and I refuse, oh yes, REFUSE the way you think you can wrap your hand around MY THROAT and get instant obedience!"

His eyes gleamed red, then went back to black as he managed to control his temper. I'm sure mine were darker in crimson than anything else. Maybe that's what made him control his temper, maybe not. Either way, it didn't help mine one bit so I ranted on.

"I'm tired of you thinking everyone's out to get you! I'm tired of you changing your eye color just because you've got a stick up your bum that you can't reach! AND I'M TIRED OF EVEN BEING HERE! WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT, HUH? What the HELL is the point of loving you if it means a threat of death every two seconds? What's the point of being alive if I can't be me without having to take two steps back to make sure I didn't trod on your black-hearted toes? I'm tired of it, Tom. I'm sick and tired of it and I won't play this stupid game with you anymore if it means I have to die for you to be happy."

There were tears in my eyes. Tears that slithered down my cheeks like his snakes had slithered across the floor when we exchanged half of our souls. They slithered like the snakes that writhed around his heart and lashed out at someone with a poisonous bite if they got too close.

I refused to let him see that. Instead, I turned away, stomped back to the highest front step of the school and twirled around to look at him standing there with an amused look in those black eyes.

"Find yourself another soul mate, Riddle. Because I'm never going to be her and I refuse any offer to the job." My words were precise despite the bubble of grief in my throat and then I turned again, as if in a dance, and walked through the doors to the school not seeing his warring expressions.

There are some people who would say I turned him into what he became. There are a few who whisper that I only hastened the process and others who say he would have become Lord Voldemort no matter what I did.

Personally, I think I had placed the straw that broke the camel's back on the camel and then walked away.

My days were numbered, all set in bleeding stone that screamed its sorrow to the passerby that bothered to stop and look, and all through it I walked as if it didn't bother me.

I've stated before that I had Shona and she was the perfect soul mate, a matching half to my broken one. And she was, really.

But the guilt of what I had done caused a rift between her and I and even with her around always the pain became nearly unbearable. For two days I wandered like a blind woman with everyone around her talking in color. I didn't eat or sleep because every time I opened my mouth I felt like a keening wail would come out and every time I slept I knew I would have nightmares and speak the whole truth in the dreams.

Shona tried, naturally, to keep my sanity together. She did a good job, really. There were times when I felt like suicide in those two hazy days and always she talked me out of it. When I felt completely down and out, she brought me distractions to cheer me up. She even helped me teach Fenrir to read and run with the red wolf.

At one point in those two days, I ran into Tom, who simply stared at me before turning away to smirk at some chit who was hanging off his arm twenty-four/seven. She was pretty, I suppose, but you had to look really past the idiotic cliché remarks and the dyed blonde hair to see it. At the beginning, I wondered if I should walk over there and just say, "Oh, yeah, great pick. Watch out though. He might sic a basilisk on you and kill you just because he's a paranoid, evil moron with a temper problem."

I didn't, obviously. I was too busy staring at my untouched plate that Hyacinth had filled for me and wondering why on earth I felt so horrible.

It was later that I learned from one of my friends that if I had looked up, I would have noticed Tom staring at me more intently, more pleadingly and more desperately than normal. I laughed bitterly when I heard it. Tom doesn't plead with anyone. He kills them, takes what he wants, and moves on.

Damn him.

After two days of not eating or sleeping, some girl professed her worry to the teacher that I was looking rather ill and should be given off. The teacher took one hard look at me and sent me to the hospital wing.

I didn't make it so far as the second step because suddenly he was there, at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me as if I was Aphrodite showing her true form to a random attractive mortal man. Then again, after two days of not sleeping during the blank amount of hours that I should have been, I must have looked like something spectacular so maybe not Aphrodite. Perhaps more like I was Medusa.

My head turned from his direction and I attempted to walk on but the funny thing about not getting enough sleep is that it makes you slightly dizzy and everything a bit cloudy. Therefore, maybe I shouldn't be so surprised that I, who had never been without sleep before, suddenly plummeted down the further seven steps in dead faint. The last thing I saw before everything went black was Tom's mouth open as if he were about to speak and a shocked girl staring at the reflection of something serpentine.

Fin of this Chapter

River-Satr2: Okay, I realize now that since book six came out that there's a lot more clearance on Mr. Riddle. Sucks for me but not for you because I have a fic that obviously portrays his past in a…erm…. not so correct manner. blushes Don't flame me for it please. After all, this is not only a fanfic, meaning none of it's supposed to be true anything but it's just really like a sorta what-if thing, but also my fic came out before book six. I could try and redo it, but I think that would ruin everything I've done so far.

I hope this update satisfies you all. I need to figure out how to do spaces to show a passing of time/break between parts of the chapter (as in, Ginny's speaking one, Ginny's speaking continued, Third person, More Ginny thing) because when I tried to do what I used to, it wouldn't show up despite how many times I corrected it. This is a short chapter, once more, very sorry. I'll get cracking for more chapters as long as everyone understands what's going on now or if I need another explanatory chapter then I'll do that. Either way, please R&R. It's complicated as a story, I know, but my mind goes off on tangents. My friends complain about it….lol.


	26. Abandon All Hope

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Abandon All Hope**

I once got my hands on a bible that Harry found in a hotel he stayed at. He brought it back to me, thinking I would find it interesting to read about someone called Jesus who was probably a wizard and Harry also thought it might improve my muggle studies report.

Not that I needed it.

In either case, it talks about something called Hell.

According to the literal Greek interpretation, Hell isn't actually fire, brimstone, and all manners of tortures devised by some bored little demon. It's not Dante's Inferno (or lack thereof really) incarnate. In fact, it's just life without God, which apparently is enough to scare anyone into submission and chanting.

When I read about it, I laughed, thinking this weird missing of some invisible deity is what causes massive amounts of people to convert. Did they think they were going to miss anything those few years before they handed their lives over? According to a muggle person I once questioned the belief of God about, they said God hadn't given any sign of being around since Jesus died. It made me wonder why people choose to believe in something that hadn't moved from being a carcass in a sheet of cloth (no offense to the Christians but, hey, that was my translation of it). It made me wonder why everyone was rushing to get themselves a bible when Hell was just missing something that never really existed.

And then, suddenly, the bottom of Earth fell out and I was in Hell.

I lived it.

I breathed it.

I slept with it over my sprawled out, dreaming form suffocating every feeling in me till I felt like Jesus must have during those three days inside a tomb, getting the ability to rise again and finding that it was 'not yet, wait three more days…not yet, wait two more..not yet…wait fifty minutes.' Except the fifty minutes never ended and I was left there, breathing heavily, trying not to drown in my tears and weeping bouts.

Because when I was through with Tom, that's what my life was: a living example of hell. Every moment was spent being tense, wondering what was going through his head, wondering when he was going to strike or caress, wondering whether or not I still existed to him.

Hell doesn't have to be fiery torture to be torture at all, apparently. Just the thought of not existing to someone makes most people go crazy.

So for two days I wandered, as Dante did, through hell.

And on the third day, God rose again.

Or at least I did.

I awoke on the third day, my eyes puffy from the little to no sleep I'd had over due to the stress and pain of separation from someone who would normally be considered a soul mate. My hands were lying upon my stomach like a corpse in repose and my mouth was shut even when my eyes snapped open. I didn't sit up immediately, afraid that if I did the tears might arise with me from their sullen pools that were my pupils. I didn't even bother to open my mouth just slightly and release the stinging sense of morning breath.

I lay there and I simply breathed.

Then, slowly, Shona arose with me in the back of my mind with a slender yawn and a comment.

_Good morning, Ginny. _She barked solemnly and in my mind I saw her great red head lifting itself from her paws gracefully, assessing my physical and mental outlook and her red eyes twinkle in acknowledgement. _I see that something's changed. For the better, I believe. No thoughts of jumping off the astronomy tower this morning?_

_No,_ I answered keenly and looked around without moving my head. From where I was I could see other beds lined up against the wall placidly. Their sheets were neatly pulled back, awaiting some visitor to slumber upon them. People that didn't move or breathe as far as I could tell took two beds. Those two were stiffer than boards and as lively as dead rocks. Looking at them, I realized where I was with a momentary shock that sent me shooting up from where I lay.

Everything rushed back to me. The loss of Riddle, seeing him on the stairs as I was going to the hospital wing, fainting right before him due to lack of sleep. What happened afterwards? Did he take me here? Did I wake up and walk here without realizing it?

"Rushton," a murmur came from my side and I turned my head so quickly from reflex that the bones in my neck popped. The figure in the chair winced at the disgusting sound and lowered its head to its hands. "Why must you cause trouble for me? First, you near break my arms from falling from a broom in a nightgown…"

Tom then. I could tell because the way he said it and the fact that I'd never ever fallen into anyone else's arms, really.

"Then I'm forced to share a bed with you and a compartment on the train. Afterwards, you fight with my ex-girlfriend…"

Who is also your daughter by me come back to make sure you fall in love with me and she is born but I won't interrupt you…darling.

"And make my job much, much more complicated by stealing Salazar's Gift…"

Wha? Well. This is new. This is something Nymeria never told me of.

I wanted to take his head from his hand, force him to look at me, and ask him what the bloody blazes he was talking about, but I refrained with a great dignity formally titled yawning. Underneath my bed, a sleepy whimper was heard and I knew Fenrir was beneath me in all his direwolf glory.

"We switched halves of souls and I turned out to be so attracted to you that it hurts. Then you consort with someone who looks rather dashingly like you to murder me…."

Again I desired to shake his head from his hands and ask what the blazes he was talking about and again I refrained by clenching my slender, pale hands into fists in the sheets.

"Then…you break what little bit of a heart I have left. Tell me, dear, sweet, beautiful angel Rushton, what am I to do with you?" he asked. Finally, he did raise his head from his hands and the face looking back at me resembled a war ground. And not the type that emerged in the middle ages. I mean the type where trenches were built, blood watered the earth as much as rain, and bombshells often missed the target. The type where forests were ripped away from the earth like the maidenhood of a little girl still unable to understand what was happening by a rapist. The war ground where barbed wire was used and planes slaughtered the sound of sweet birdsong.

There was no such thing as peace on Tom's face. Simply resignation to its fate and a simple question of "why?".

It was my first clue that Tom was beyond saving and I simply watched and refused to stop it.

Unlike most times in my life, I didn't answer his question with biting sarcasm or even a witty comment. I watched his face and drunk it in. This was my well of water in the desert that I had been abandoned in. This was the god I had been waiting for in Dante's Inferno.

"Tom," I murmured and reached forward, grasping his hand. Within a second, his was pulling me forward, towards him and I didn't pause to stop him or reprimand him. Our lips met, my soul healed for one instant, and then he pushed me back with a savage look on his face.

I felt heaven in his kiss and wanted more but I stopped myself thinking that too much paradise can lead to blasphemy which eventually leads to…Hell.

"Tom," I whispered again, this time my voice wavered and I knew the tears were coming back. Why, oh why, did I ever lay eyes on his stupid journal? Why did I take that timeturner? Why did I have to be born?

"Don't you dare ever say that name again, Rushton. From now on, you will address me as Lord Voldemort, whether you like it or not. If you refuse to, I won't hesitate to use to an Unforgivable Curse upon you." His voice broke over the word Unforgivable. A ray of hope shone through the abandoned, dark cathedral in my life.

"No, you'll always be Tom to me. You know that. Don't change this around." I shot back, forgetting my sorrow and just letting anger control me. There was fear in my voice too, so slim and fragile it could have been mistaken for caution. But fear is what it truly was because I was seeing Lord Voldemort starting to breathe and flex his wings. I was seeing Lord Voldemort's personality being shaped and I saw my hands, clawed and red with the blood of the innocents to be killed, shaping it like wet clay.

Tom, of course, knew me as well as I knew myself. He knew I was afraid but he just didn't know exactly why. "Are you afraid of me, Rushton?" he implored dangerously, eyes slipping to a red shade, "Because you should be. Any false move that you make and I will hurt those closest to you. Any wrong word and I shall treat them like the dirt they are. Whatever—"

The tears ran down my cheeks unchecked and without care. Like girls running from a snake they've unexpectedly seen in the meadow where they were playing, they ran from my eyes and onto my clenched hands. My mouth didn't open in case I might let loose a sob and call the nurse. Ultimate sorrow crouched on the doorstep of my life, desiring to take it over completely and redo the decorations.

"Stop it!" I yelped, shutting my eyes quickly and blocking him from my vision. Someone once told me that in one blink everything could change. I wanted my blink to last so long that everything would end right here and right now. When I opened them I wanted no one to be before me. I wanted simply Fenrir and Shona and peace.

I wanted to get out of Hell.

"Stop saying such things!" I yelled out and my hands flew like frightening doves from clenching my sheets to clenching the salt water streaming down. They tried to stop the flow with wings that were fingers and failed miserably. "You've broken me enough, Tom Marvolo Riddle, now get out!"

There was a silence in which the fall of tears upon the covers could be heard. Tom was looking at me, assessing the damage he'd wrecked, testing to see if the cathedral in my heart could be destroyed further. I wanted to lift my eyes and show him that it stood, proud as ever. But doing that would be lying to both of us and I was sick of lies. I didn't not know that I was hurting him as much as he hurt me. But knowing that as I do now, would I have stopped?

No, I wouldn't have because I think I wanted to hurt him as much as I was hurt so that I didn't feel so abandoned and alone in a cold, frigid landscape where everything was a move for time and I was such a outsider.

When I did raise my eyes, it was to stare at him angrily. There was no hate in my gaze and there never would be again but there was anger. Cold, icicle anger. "Go Tom. Go play with your harlots and your little minions. Go play with your chess pieces and the people who like your arms wrapped around their necks. I need to rest." I murmured and lowered the blazing blue shade of my eyes to the covers, observing with false interest the small puddle of tears that lay there.

Without warning, he gave a strangled cry and left me staring at the purest thing I'd ever seen since I entered his time.

_Interlude_...

A day passed in the hospital and my hell didn't turn into heaven or purgatory. I spent most of my time doing homework on a desk some boy made me as a gift or reading texts on Wild Magic. Nothing new passed before my eyes. No body even bothered to see me that day. So the entire day was donated to studying, crying, or sleeping after eating. My body was recovering from all the hits it had taken over the quarters and while it did that, the amount of paralyzed bodies in one day jumped from two to five.

There was talk, naturally, of forming an expedition of teachers to stalk this predator and put him in his place. But then Dumbledore, ever reasonable even in his youth, reminded everyone that it would leave the students even more vulnerable and give the predator more time to strike. Would it not be better if the teachers escorted the children in groups to their classes? It was logical and more precise. It was safer as well.

On the second day, I received Tom as a visitor. He was sitting by my bed when I awoke again like a corpse. My hair had been brushed out and fanned across my pillow like a shell found at the ocean's side. When I saw the brush in his hands I understood why.

Instantly my temper was up. How dare he! "Excuse me," I scowled, "but I didn't ask for my hair to be treated while I was sleeping. It was fine the way it was."

He snorted, a very strange thing for him, before placing the brush on my bedside table. "Rushton, your hair vaguely resembled the place where rats give birth. Even I, who has great affection for you still residing in my heart despite recent threats, found it hard to gaze upon you in such a manner."

I blinked in surprise and wondered if maybe Tom had multiple personality disorder. First he tried to kill me, then he threatened me and made me uniquely depressed and crushed my spirit entirely, and now he was brushing my hair and reminding me that I still have a place in his heart. This day was getting too strange for my liking, I decided and then made the smartest decision in my life: to be silent.

His black eyes stared at me a few more moments as if trying to decide what I most resembled and then blinked. "Your silence is bothering me, Rushton. Say something before I have to agitate you enough to make you scorn me."

So I opened my mouth and asked, "What is Salazar's Gift?"

His eyebrows rose like black clouds on a pale horizon. "It's simple enough. It gives a person control over a basilisk. I tried to retrieve just to make sure no one tried to interfere with my plans but you reached it first. Of course, because I am the heir of Slytherin I have a natural ability to command any basilisk but it was really just for precaution's sake."

I nodded and it made sense why I felt that strange tingling sensation in my palm when I touched that snake carving underneath Hogwarts. "Are there others like it?" I implored.

He snorted again and I didn't even waste my time wondering. "No, of course not. Salazar was smarter than that, Rushton. If he put them all over the place then it wouldn't really be a gift. It'd be more of a free-for-all than anything. You found the only one and quite frankly it won't rejuvenate its gift for another five thousand years so it'll possibly be lost in time till someone decides to explore Hogwarts and magically finds it. Naturally I do expect them to die shortly afterwards from not being able to find a way out but there's always the chance that whoever discovers it again has extremely good fortune and intelligence."

"So are you saying I would have died had you not arrived?"

"Precisely. This means you have good fortune. I haven't yet decided if you have intelligence." His gaze was mocking and amused. For once, I considered his comment without retorting first. There was a solemn silence and then somewhere in the distance a person sneezed.

I jumped from the break of sound and looked Tom. "Did you mean what you threatened?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I meant it, Rushton, what kind of silly question is that?"

"No, I mean why would you threaten someone who would better be used as an ally?"

"I refuse to dignify that question with an answer."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Tom?"

"…."

"Oh for the love of all things holy and loving! Fine! Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have multiple personality disorder?'

"I repeat: I refuse to dignify that question with an answer."

"So is that a yes."

"No."

"So you don't have it?"

"Right."

"Left."

"What the…"

"You said right so I said left."

"How much medication do they have you on, Rushton?"

"I have no idea. I just take what they give me."

"I see."

"Well technically you don't because you're never around me when they give me stuff so you're really just assuming."

"Rushton?"

"Yeeeesss?"

"Stop being a smartass."

"Well, it's better than being a dumb one isn't it?"

"I suppo….Damn it, shut up, Rushton!"

"……….Tom?"

"…."

"Lord Voldemort?"

"Yes, Rushton?"

"I think they gave me too many headache curing pills."

"That's amazing, Rushton."

"What's amazing?"

"That you were thinking."

"Is it really?"

"Yes, terribly."

"Riddle?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you keep coming back here if I've…discarded you for trying to kill me?"

"Because….Because I still love you, Ginny. There's no helping it. I've emotionally condemned myself to you all for half of your soul. Not that the soul thing really changed much. Honestly I was in love with you from the first moment you literally fell into my arms but the soul thing did help."

"…….."

"Er…Ginny?"

"……………."

"Virginia?"

"……………"

"Virginia Rushton, are you asleep?"

"…………….."

"Blast."

_Interlude..._

I was let out of the hospital after Rose came and said she needed me for Wild Mage training in the Forbidden Forest. Well, obviously she didn't say that exactly to the nurse. What she actually said went along the lines that Virginia Weasley had some lessons she needed to catch up on that had to happen now or never and didn't Mistress Healsped think the exercise would do my muscles some good?

The nurse personally said she was sorry to see me go with such short notice but I was so pleased I could have purred. The last of Tom's visits to the hospital wing for me had been when I fell asleep on him. And that time…I could feel myself being gravitated towards him like some ship towards the siren's deadly song. Another visit of his, even if it was with the evil side of him, would have forced me to surrender my heart again, something I wasn't ready to do.

I needed a plan. Something to get rid of the basilisk with.

Salazar's gift was my original thought but Tom and Mina/Adora had the same gift so it would be pointless confusing the basilisk into directing its gaze where ever the person calling it was. Not only would we all end up dead but also I'd never get home.

Which was a negative thought.

Faraday, I thought, must have a plan. After all, she was more than five thousand years old, the daughter of the original Wild Mage Zeus and his lover Leda (I'd put these pieces together in my hospital bed.) She knew the rules and had been around when they had been established. She would know and I could reenact her ideas without a problem.

Rose helped me outside of the hospital wing doors to take me into the Forbidden Forest on the day of my release. Her hair was bound with a leather strap in a thick bun at the base of her neck. The lips that were so beautiful to behold parted in a buttery, pleased smile when her eyes saw me walk unsteadily towards her.

Within a few moments, Rose was chattering to me happily about all the going-ons in the caverns of the Wild Mages and what arguments Sheba and Faraday had gotten into.

Just as we reached the pale sunlit yards of the school campus, I questioned her. "Why don't Sheba and Faraday like one another? Both are ancient, right? Surely after all this time together they'd get over their differences."

Rose's smile, which had seemed fixated to her face like some mosquito whose found the largest supply of blood, flew away. "Sheba…Sheba was Ivan's lover at one point in the world's history. Actually, to be honest, Ivan and Sheba are the eldest of any Wild Mage I know of. They come even before Faraday or Zeus. Even before the Wild Mage's banned together and became rare."

She paused as if considering how to say it just as we entered the fringe of the wood.

"To give you an idea of how old Sheba and Ivan are…Did you ever hear of Neanderthals?"

I blinked, thinking. "Yes. They're about ten thousand or a million years before humans actually were considered 'evolved' and their time period was considered to have overlapped with the species till they died out before anyone could write or learn about them," I recited then exclaimed, "Sheba and Ivan are THAT old?"

Rose nodded. "Older than that, to be precise. By more than thirty three thousand years. You see, back when they were alive, there was no such thing as marriage or laws or anything. The world was based on instinct and emotions. It is how Sheba and Ivan became lovers, actually. Their emotions drove them to the point where they could only stand to be around one another if they could touch at the same time. They became official lovers when Sheba was only fifteen years old and Ivan was seventeen.

"By the time Sheba was twenty-two, she'd had two miscarriages, as the land and people were incredibly fertile then and Wild Mages could have as many children as they wanted before they died. Her heart was torn. For awhile, she shook her bed clean of Ivan and then just as suddenly took him back. She gave birth to a healthy boy child after that, at the age of thirty-six years.

"She doted on that son, naturally. His name was Jahi and never was he out of her sight. Alas, he eventually left her side just as naturally as he'd come into this world. Driven for a need of adventure and adrenaline, he went to a land now known as Greece and became known as Cronus, the god of time and so on in the Greek myths. You see, all the Greek gods are what are considered the first 'Wild Mages' though truth is that they just come from a different land where they were incredibly common. Sheba and Ivan are proof of this.

"In any case, Sheba never forgave Jahi or Cronus for leaving her. She tried for more children, but sadly each child died before the age of two. Sheba gave up and went to the court of Greece, seeking Cronus. She didn't find him, of course. His seventh son, Zeus, had murdered him. Hearing this, her grief was terrible to behold. She nearly rendered Rhea, her son's bride, apart just for giving Zeus life and when she came upon Zeus, she made him promise to give up his daughter to her because she wanted a child so badly to replace Cronus.

"Zeus agreed and laid with Leda in the form of a swan. Thus Faraday or Helen was born."

I didn't see, at this point, how on earth Helen could have earned Sheba's wrath and terrible anger and then Rose said something more.

"At the same time Leda gave birth, so did Sheba, who had returned to Ivan's bed rejoicing for the child she was soon to have sired by Zeus and birthed by the fair Leda. Sheba's child was another boy whom she called Merlain. He inherited his mother's desperation for love and beauty. He also was given her powers.

"When Zeus heard Sheba had a son now, he gave Helen quite freely up to the Greeks and then to the Trojans. Sheba never forgave Zeus for giving up what was rightfully hers and worst came when Merlain fell in love with Helen from afar and chased her all the way to Troy, even fought with the Greeks to attempt a piece of her.

"No sooner had the war ended then Menelaus, Helen's first husband, died of poisoning. She fled to Britannia, now the United Kingdom, and appeared as a goddess of light to the dark haired, pale skinned Bretons. They called her Brighid in Ireland and Gwenhwyfar in England. Within a few thousand years and a couple of centuries, Merlain found her again and followed her to the court of Arthur. As a magician, he watched her suffer through her newfound barreness, which had not been present before. He offered his services to her and begged her to love him. She took neither and gave nothing because she wanted to stay faithful to a husband for once. 'I am known as Guinevere now. I'm not Helen nor Brighid nor the paganistic Gwenhwyfar. I do not lay with any other man but my husband and I shall certainly not lay with a magician of old tricks,' she answered each of his pleas.

"When Arthur was slain by his son Mordred, Merlain called Merlin thought he could grab Helen then. He pleaded, he begged, he even groveled and pledged undying love. In order to get away from him, Helen-Guinevere entered a convent and took a vow of celibacy. And Merlain, in his despair, disappeared off the cliffs of the United Kingdom and never came back. Sheba believes it was all Faraday's fault. She blames her for every breath of agony Merlain took and never lets her forget it. Some day…."

Rose drifted off.

I realized that perhaps Faraday would understand me better than anyone. She would know what to do about Tom. She had dealt with all manner of men, even great Wild Mages like Merlain and Zeus, her father. She was the great-granddaughter of the wisest, oldest woman in the world, Sheba. She would know exactly what to do.

It was then that we arrived at the clearing before the entrance to the caverns of the Wild Mages and I heard my name called in a melodic sounding purer than any winter-bled spring.

"Ginny!"

"Faraday!" I cried out and held open my arms just as she did hers. With an embrace that a woman would give her long-lost daughter, Faraday gripped me close to her and I felt beneath her ample bosom her heart beating happily like a hummingbird fluttering against its silver cage to freedom.

"Ah, Ginny!" she exclaimed again and pushing me back at arm's length observed me. "Dear gods! You look so worn out! Your face is as red as your hair and your body is shaking. Rose told me that they'd put you in the hospital. Something about exhaustion and fainting spells and legs giving out but…dear me. This looks like something worse!"

Five thousand years of experience said she should know so I just nodded and let her lead me down the cavern's steps shakily. "Faraday, isn't there another way down these stairs?" I panted after having to lean against the central pillar to keep from toppling off the edge.

"Yes, actually, but this is training for physical feats you may have to perform later. Though…" she looked at me, her eyes glittering more beautifully than any gem, "Perhaps you need a bit of help this time. You've been in bed for a few days, yes? In that case, your muscles have relaxed."

I nodded, desperate for some small, teensy amount of help.

She provided it with a small rock about the size of my little finger. "Um…Faraday," I explained to her slowly, "That is a rock. It's a thing that you get on the ground. I'm not seeing how that will help us down here."

Her laughter bubbled through the cavern, filling even the shadowy places with light and warmth. "That's because you are looking and not really seeing, Ginny!" she exclaimed and murmured some ancient tongue over the stone. It winked at us, a slip of light around it that was so quick I wondered if I really saw it, and suddenly we were not on steps but on the cavern floor, with the runes and glowing green signs and the other Wild Mages around us.

"Wow…" I sighed, "I've got to get myself one of those." The ex-Princess of Troy simply laughed with a tilting back of her head and letting her long hair swoop down her back and shake like tiny beads on a string. How beautiful she was, even after five millennia, how Paris must have been smitten with her. How angered and jealous Aphrodite must have felt when she witnessed from the high mountain of Olympus the birthing of this Wild Mage. How precious this woman was to me, like a mother when I needed mine the most.

"Yes, well, in any case, I know you have a problem that you wish to solve, Virginia. Tell me in my apartments." The dragon Wild Mage said and gripped my frozen hand in her warm one.

Thus she led me through the caverns, down another, short flight of stairs and into a warm chamber with a bed of silk pillows and sheets laid out in a cut, smoothed out section of the cave. Candles were everywhere, filling the room which the scent of roses, honeysuckle, and thyme. I breathed it in, felt it touching my soul, and part of me relaxed further.

Before the shelf of a bed were four chairs of olivewood, all divinely crafted with no sharp corners but all rounded and carved with all manner of creatures on them. In the center of those was a table with a dragon carved into its center with its four feet holding indentations for bowls or cups. In the grasp of its mouth was a deeper indentation, to place a candle or something in it. Faraday had put dried flower petals there and cinnamon sticks to add to the aroma-therapy of the room.

The best of all were the tapestries that hung from rock pegs in the room. Helen had obviously created these tapestries herself. One displayed Persephone, niece and wife of Hades, another daughter of Zeus by his sister Demeter. Her ebony tresses spread to the floor in ringlets about her and her golden, summer heat eyes blazed merrily despite the scene of death and darkness around her. A hand was gripping hers, possessively yet lovingly. There that section of tapestry ended only to be joined by its sister weave, the portrait of Hades, whose skin was the skin of corpses and whose eyes were dark and cold like polished stone. Yet the look he gave his wife was one of such secretive tenderness my heart bled for the idea that Persephone had wanted to leave him behind forever.

There was another of cream-and-roses skinned Aphrodite, with her ruby lips parted slightly over the skin of a golden apple that had letters on it in Greek to display their sharp, predatorily designed nature that could bring pleasure or pain. Her eyes were wickedly seductive and were a precious, sea-foam green-gray-blue. Her hair was gold, flecked with the sea foam she'd been conceived in and her outfit was a ruby dress of Greek design with one of the shoulder cloths drifting over her perfect shoulder as if it wanted more than her shoulder and more than that bit of arm. I stared at her the longest and wondered if Tom would have loved and desired Aphrodite more than me.

_No,_ something in me whispered, _Mina was like Aphrodite. Poised for the seduction and the kill. You are the one who caught his heart instead. He wants the woman with the red hair, the goddess unpainted or unwoven. He hungers for the touch of the innocent lips of a girl whose innocence can never actually be removed for you are stuck in time, neither in one place or the other, but always on the edge of the moving things. _

I listened, became confused and found myself being guided to one of the carved chairs that Faraday had pulled out for me. "Sit already. Tell me what is bothering you, Ginny." She murmured and cut a strawberry in fragments before handing me a piece, "Eat as well, you look half-starved." There was a look in her eye that suggested she was remembering another time and another place where something similar like this had happened. Her daughter Hermione, perhaps?

I bit into it, gasped at the potent taste, and then swallowed before starting. "Faraday, I need to…I need to kill a mythical creature. A basilisk to be exact. I can speak to it, I have Salazar's Gift, but sadly this ability to control it is in two others as well. Those two are paralyzing people like crazy, trying, perhaps, to kill them. It must be stopped before I return to my own time. I need your help. You have been around for five thousand years. You have seen all manner of creatures even before they were extinct. Surely you know some way to end a basilisk's killing spree?"

She stared at me, her eyes even with my own as she slouched slightly in her chair. Even that motion made her seem breathtaking in the candle light. "There's more. You're not telling me something…There's an emotional tie to this as well. I can feel it. Someone you love is tied into this. Was he or she paralyzed?"

I choked on the sudden lump in my throat. For some reason, I had left out Tom and Myrtle and Juniper and everyone I worried for. "No, not paralyzed," I coughed out and then said with all the heat I thought had left me when I entered Dante's Hell, "The man I love with everything the gods have given me is controlling it. I hated him at first, because of what he did to me beforehand, and then…Then something changed. I don't know what. Faraday…. Helen, it is as if…When I kiss him, it is as if I have been wandering in the dark and suddenly found the light. When I touch his hand or his face it is like my body is being submerged in cool water after spending five days in scorching heat. And the worst thing is I know what will happen to him. I know how horrible he will become and how much death he will cause. I have seen all of the pain he will bring to me and mine and I know that I'm a catalyst. But it is not enough to stop me from feeling the way I do.

"So I knew that I had to leave. I had to go back to my time where I belonged but…but he found me, talking to the one person that could bring me what I needed and he took my throat in his hands and I thought…Oh gods, Helen, I thought he was really going to kill me. I ended it then and there, thinking that maybe I truly meant nothing to him but a pawn. For the past week I have been lost, Helen. I feel like I am in Hell and instead of fire it is just loneliness and sometimes I just want to go to sleep and never wake up because it will mean I never have to face him again and think, 'I've lost you. I meant nothing to you but you meant everything to me and I messed it up.'"

I started crying. Great, gulping, childish sobs that made my speaking nearly indecipherable and Persephone blurred before me, twisting away from her husband's loving gaze because it was almost detestable to him. Was I like Persephone to Tom? My thoughts were hysterical in my grief but Faraday-Helen listened and never interrupted.

"I couldn't sleep or eat or drink anything, Helen. Not for a while. And then I was dismissed from class one day to rest or go somewhere, I've forgotten. I saw him. Ah gods I saw him below me about to go up the stairs. There was never anything more beautiful. I thought to myself, 'I want him, more than anything. I'm not complete without him.' And I saw in his eyes that he was trying to tear himself from me. And then I collapsed and I know he caught me because Mistress Healsped said he did.

"I awoke three days later and he was there, just sitting there with his head in his hands like I was disgusting to him or like he could not bear to gaze upon his sin. He told me such horrible things, Helen, and I said horrible things back because I wanted him to feel as I did even though we have each other's halves of soul. But he came back the next day, afterwards, and we talked for awhile and it was like taking a sip of water after wandering in the desert for fifty years without hope. He told me how much he still loved me and I feigned sleep because I couldn't bear to look at him because I would lose my courage, become undone, and throw myself into his arms crying and heaving out tears like I am now.

"And now I must end his outlet for pain. This basilisk that I'm sure he and the other person are using to either get back at me or just using to wreck terror. I know I have to stop him but what if in stopping him, I lose him entirely? What if I cause an even greater catalyst to this evil that is rising in him like a tide? I don't know what to do, Helen. I never have." I sighed, regained my breath and tried to regain my calm and then lost it again.

Faraday-Helen stood up, came around the table and chairs, and embraced me.

"You have love in your heart, Ginny, for this man. I felt this way but only once and it never came again. Not for the five thousand years I have lived. I felt it for Paris, son of Priam. Your feelings are more intense, because he is only your second love, I think, but mine were so similar. Oh Ginny, Paris once did something similar to trying to kill me once."

I stared at her through eyelashes heavily laced with saltwater. "What? But the Illiad…"

She laughed and birdsong filled the world. "I didn't tell Homer everything, silly. It would have diminished the stories of the heroes and focused it on Paris and I. But, yes, Paris almost killed me once, the night Hector died, in the tenth year of the war. I was sleeping and felt something prick my throat. My eyes opened slowly and I saw Paris, his golden hair streaming around his face like the sun's rays, tears saturated his face and landing in the hollow of my throat where the sword point was resting. 'Why shouldn't I kill you, Helen?' he demanded of me and I stared at him calmly. He asked it again and again of me till I reached out, touched his face and started weeping with him. I was never so scared because he truly meant to murder me then and end this war. It was there in his eyes and in the way he held the knife. And I didn't fight it because I felt so much to blame for Hector's death. When I started weeping with him, his resolve crumpled and he threw the sword against the wall and then kiss me so hard I thought we were both trying to kill ourselves with passion."

She smiled, thinly and kissed my forehead like a mother would her daughter who has taken her first running steps only to fall and scrap her knees. "This man loves you but he's afraid of you. I think he's afraid of how much you mean to him and he thinks that by making you cower, he has nothing to fear. Show him it is not so, Ginny. Show him that you love him no matter who or what he is and then, perhaps, he will use the basilisk against this other person and then…Then you will not be lost and wandering in the dark caves without a light. You will save him, I can feel it in my old bones."

I cried for relief and later, after being released from the hospital wing under Rose's orders (influenced by Faraday), I searched the castle till I found Tom, surrounded by Juniper and Richard and Jack, smiling charmingly.

My steps faltered and I longed to run away because despite Faraday's words, the idea of those hands once more wrapped around my neck scared the heck out of me. Instead, I raised my chin and waited till he saw me. Juniper, Richard, and Jack fell silent, following Tom's gaze, and began to talk amongst themselves as Tom floated past them predatorily.

I stared at him and when he got so close our noses were centimeters apart, I sighed. He gazed down at me, trying to understand the sigh and then smirked. Without warning, I grasped his hand and pulled him down the hallway a ways.

"Back for more, Rushton?" He murmured so softly only I could hear as we walked.

"But of course," I answered absentmindedly (slightly panicking), "I'm condemned to you, Riddle. And not just because of this soul thing. It's also because…" I hesitated as his eyes flashed red randomly and then took heart from what Faraday had said and continued, "It's also because I want to be. Condemned to you, I mean." Then suddenly my confidence faltered. "But…don't think that it means you can still go dragging me around during class hours by drugging me with Coranimagi and catching me while I fall down flights of stairs from exhaustion or—"

"Gods, Rushton, do you ever shut up?" He groaned and pulled me back sharplybefore hekissed me so fiercely I thought all my breath had gone out of me. And despite the fact we could have died for lack of oxygen and not cared and despite the fact that he had nearly killed me and said he would use an Unforgivable Curse of me and so on, I clung to him and kissed back with all the passion in my heart and soul till Hell was gone and I was in purgatory, waiting for my entrance into heaven.

Somewhere in the distance, I imagined a heavenly choir singing halluejabut I won't go that far.

When we broke off, gasping, I found that one of his hands had been entwined and crushed in my fiery hair and another was touching my thigh. A blush spread across my face and Shona asked me with delight, _Child, are you worried he won't find your form acceptable or is that just your modesty kicking in? I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. _

I blushed redder and Tom whispered, "Ginny, you resembling a cherry is not helping things at the moment."

I scowled and retorted, "Tom, you suffocating me a few days ago was helping anything at the moment and here we are, in the darkest niche of Hogwarts, kissing the breath out of each other till one of us collapses."

He chuckled lightly and I marveled over the sound. "You really do have something to say for everything," he muttered and kissed my cheek before pulling away and finding that my hands were not letting go of him. "Ginny, as happy as I am that you find me irresistible, you are going to have to will yourself, gods forbid it, to let go of me lest I find it in myself to smack the daylights out of you." He tried to pry my hands off to no avail and to my amusement considering he actually was much, much stronger than I was. Part of me thought he really didn't want me to let go.

"No," I stated calmly, "I don't want to let go. Ever. In fact, I'm going to keep you here till we die or until you apologize." My hands tightened their hold on his robes and Shona laughed.

For some reason, I wanted to pummel Shona for finding this funny because I was serious.

Tom looked surprised and demonstrated it by blinking. "I beg your pardon? Apologize for what? If you are referring to the suffocation, Ginny, I'm sure you've paid me back rather nicely by nearly…What's that muggle phrase? Oh yes, 'scaring the pants off me' when you collapsed on the stairs and refused to eat or take any liquids for a while. Not only that but when you left your bed this morning and I couldn't find you around the castle."

I blinked then grinned. "You came to see me in the hospital wing earlier? And you looked for me?" This was new to me.

He looked away, tried to feebly push my hands away from his robes and said, "Gods, Rushton, don't flatter yourself. You are the only one to give me a decent conversation in this damnable place without embedding me with water balloons, rotten eggs or confetti like Richard and Jack does. And Juniper is too cryptic for my tastes and Lorna... The gods had a field day when they created Lorna, I give her that."

As if the gods were agreeing with that statement, Jack suddenly shrieked, "Lorna! Do NOT touch the water pail! Or the paint! Oh….Someone…We need a rather large amount of tape and…another gerbil."

Lorna's voice came shrilly around Jack's in a marvelous tone of voice. "Oh my gosh! Jack! Look! The gerbil is doing CARTWHEELS! IN MY HAND!"

I stared at Tom.

Tom stared at me.

"Are we going to help Jack?" I asked with concern.

"Let the bloody idiots suffer for awhile, I say," Tom replied without any tone of voice. I secretly wondered if he was trying not to sound pleased that Lorna was giving them hell and then found his lips brushing mine again and him tugging me down the corridor to the dungeons.

"Um…Tom…" I murmured, "Where are we going?"

"You're sleeping with me tonight, Rushton," he said and his voice booked no argument. "I have spent the last week without sleep because of you and now I'm making sure you do not collapse or cause me any worry because you are going to fall asleep before me and wake up in front of me even with your horrible morning breath."

I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again, "Do I really have bad morning breath?" My voice came out squeaky.

"Rushton, I'm pretty sure you could kill a dragon with that secret weapon of yours." He smirked and as we passed the Ravenclaw entrance I hesitated before being swept along in the speedy walk of Tom Riddle. I tripped at one point, which just caused him to stop, swing me up into his arms and carry me down the rest of the way.

I was actually rather grateful for that. Just because, you know, suffering from hunger, thirst, and overall exhaustion kinda hurts the efforts of your first outing. Plus, well, having an emotional breakdown in front of a five thousand-year-old beauty queen because your boyfriend who is the Dark Lord happened to break up with you and cause that aforementioned torture session of exhaustion. After all that, you tend to be a little tired.

I can safely say that nothing happened at Riddle's room because as soon as he dropped me on his bed without much ado, he plopped down beside me and started to snore in a deep, I'm-exhausted-but-could-still-hex-the-hell-out-of-you way that simply made me shuffle under the covers and sleep like a dead woman.


End file.

Harry Potter, Humor, Romance