Opening her eyes, Ginny could see quite clearly that the bathroom was empty. She laughed at herself out of habit, walking to one of the mirrors so she could see the concern fade slowly off her face. It was funny, really, how instincts worked; how some part of her knew before her conscious mind did that there was something wrong. She could pinpoint the exact moment the vanishing concern turned to horror, and her face went whiter than death.
It took her a moment to know why, and for the first time Ginny was glad of the one secret she had kept from everyone. Harry had never taken to Occlumency, but thankfully she had; she certainly hadn't expected Snape to say yes when she had sought him out for lessons, had been stunned when he said yes, but she was grateful now.
She knew enough of Occlumency now to recognise the tug of magic on her mind, the feel of an intrusion. More than that, though, she knew the feel of this person in her mind: the cold, creeping dread that made her want to run away even though she knew she had to stand strong.
"Come out," she ordered, trying to block her mind off as best she could. It had been so much easier in her few, brief lessons last year than it was now, her terror making everything harder. "Now."
He felt a thrill at her words, a thrill composed of many layers. There was contempt, certainly, for anyone who believed herself capable of giving him orders; however, there was also appreciation of her bravery, as well as another tingle of recognition at the sound of her voice.
He surprised himself by chuckling audibly, and even more so by allowing her to hear it. Echoing off the vaulted walls of the Chamber, magnified by the emptiness of the cavern, and filtered through the magical conduits of his early-warning system, he knew it was a disturbing sound. But he also knew, somehow, that she would not flee from it.
And he could not have said whether this disturbed him or pleased him.
"But you know where I am, don't you?" he whispered, and knew she could hear that as well. "And more than that, you know who I am."
That voice...it was impossible to forget, hearing it as she still did in her occasional nightmare. Ginny tightened her grip on her wand, ignoring the sheer impossibility of his presence; he was here. She was not imagining it -- in her nightmares she always saw herself dying at his hand, and she certainly didn't feel like dying now.
She waited for the fear, for the terror she had always expected to feel should she have to confront him again. It was there, tingeing her reactions, fuelling her desire to run but overshadowed by an anger that surprised her. Of course he was here, tormenting her again.
Well, she wasn't eleven years old any more and she wasn't afraid of a 16 year old ghost. "I know where you are," she said, voice holding a hint of scorn. Her first instinct was to run to Dumbledore, or to Harry, but neither of them could help her now. She supposed it was time to help herself. "And I know who you are, you pathetic excuse for a person."
She knew it was a mistake, that taunting him would only end up hurting her, but Ginny did not think she could have held on to her temper if she'd wanted to. Every honeyed lie, every piece of poison he had instilled in her over that horrible year was coming back, tightening into a knot in her chest that seemed to make her heart beat with adrenaline.
"So scared you're hiding in shadows now," she muttered to herself, wondering if there was any way she could get to him. The best idea would be to run for help, but to who? Who would care?
He raised an eyebrow as he sat there in his armchair, it feeling like a throne and he like the monarch of his own dark domain. "Indeed?" His voice was condescending, but carried an undertone of seriousness that he could not fully mask. "But surely if you know where I am, then my supposed 'hiding in shadows' should not trouble you at all?"
He laughed longer, more openly, let the cruel sound of it flay her as he somehow knew it would, and hoped it would disguise the uneasiness he felt at not remembering who she really was to him. "Now tell me, my dear young lady, if you know me so well, then who am I? Who am I really?"
"Someone with delusions of their own grandeur," Ginny bit back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her afraid. She had given him enough of that five years ago, he didn't deserve any more of it. Still, he had achieved what she had no doubt was his goal; underneath her anger she was afraid. "Why do you need me to tell you, have you forgotten?"
She wished it could be as easy for her. That she could decide she wanted to forget him entirely, and manage to convince everyone around her that she had. Looking at the tap that opened his hiding spot in annoyance, Ginny was not at all sure that she would have the courage to open it had she known how.
"I'm beginning to think you're the one who's afraid," she said, frustrated. If he was going to stay down there, taunting her, she was afraid she would give in to the fear that was slowly eating at the anger, however much she tried to hold on to it. "The Tom I knew wouldn't hide from anything."
"Delusions of grandeur?" The note of quiet venom in his voice was unmistakable as he rose smoothly from the chair and waved his wand at the door. He was going to see this girl face to face, to show her exactly what he was, and to drag her down into the Chamber where he could pick her mind slowly to bits, wrenching away every bit of knowledge and memory she had of him, making her pay slowly and painfully for her insolence, and finally leaving her body at the foot of Slytherin's statue like an offering to some dark god.
Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever...
That phrase pleased him, and rang a bell somewhere buried deep in a place he didn't know existed in his mind. But he kept on walking, and as he walked, he spoke to her.
"Do you have the least idea of what you're talking about, you foolish girl? You know my name, but you obviously know little of what I am, or you would certainly never think me even capable of fear! I hide from nothing; I lie in wait! I fear nothing; I am fear!"
And as the sink opened and he rose up from the black pit in the floor like a cobra from its basket, he fixed her with an unblinking gaze that rivaled the dead Basilisk's in pure malevolence.
And he gave a short, ironic bow. "Here I am, then. Is this what you wanted?"
"I know exactly what you are," Ginny said through gritted teeth. Good Merlin, he barely older than herself; she didn't quite care who he became, or how psychotic he was. She refused to be afraid of someone who could as easily be her classmate as the 'dark lord'. "I know who you are, too, Tom Riddle. You've told me all about yourself."
I am fear. Well, he wasn't going to be her fear, not now that she had a choice in it. She tilted her head as she considered him, thinking more carefully about what he'd said. Foolish girl...know little of what I am. It occurred to her that made little sense; of course she knew what he was, he had told her. Didn't he remember that?
"You don't know me," she said, a hint of glee in her voice, faltering as she met his eyes for the first time, seeing the darkness in there. "You don't know..."
She didn't finish her sentence, not wanting to give herself away. If he didn't know her, he didn't know the things she had told him, which meant that Harry was safe. From this version, anyway; she didn't fancy anyone's chances if they had two versions of Voldemort after them. She had to keep him here; she couldn't let him get to them.
It took her a moment to know why, and for the first time Ginny was glad of the one secret she had kept from everyone. Harry had never taken to Occlumency, but thankfully she had; she certainly hadn't expected Snape to say yes when she had sought him out for lessons, had been stunned when he said yes, but she was grateful now.
She knew enough of Occlumency now to recognise the tug of magic on her mind, the feel of an intrusion. More than that, though, she knew the feel of this person in her mind: the cold, creeping dread that made her want to run away even though she knew she had to stand strong.
"Come out," she ordered, trying to block her mind off as best she could. It had been so much easier in her few, brief lessons last year than it was now, her terror making everything harder. "Now."
Reply
He surprised himself by chuckling audibly, and even more so by allowing her to hear it. Echoing off the vaulted walls of the Chamber, magnified by the emptiness of the cavern, and filtered through the magical conduits of his early-warning system, he knew it was a disturbing sound. But he also knew, somehow, that she would not flee from it.
And he could not have said whether this disturbed him or pleased him.
"But you know where I am, don't you?" he whispered, and knew she could hear that as well. "And more than that, you know who I am."
Reply
She waited for the fear, for the terror she had always expected to feel should she have to confront him again. It was there, tingeing her reactions, fuelling her desire to run but overshadowed by an anger that surprised her. Of course he was here, tormenting her again.
Well, she wasn't eleven years old any more and she wasn't afraid of a 16 year old ghost. "I know where you are," she said, voice holding a hint of scorn. Her first instinct was to run to Dumbledore, or to Harry, but neither of them could help her now. She supposed it was time to help herself. "And I know who you are, you pathetic excuse for a person."
She knew it was a mistake, that taunting him would only end up hurting her, but Ginny did not think she could have held on to her temper if she'd wanted to. Every honeyed lie, every piece of poison he had instilled in her over that horrible year was coming back, tightening into a knot in her chest that seemed to make her heart beat with adrenaline.
"So scared you're hiding in shadows now," she muttered to herself, wondering if there was any way she could get to him. The best idea would be to run for help, but to who? Who would care?
Reply
He laughed longer, more openly, let the cruel sound of it flay her as he somehow knew it would, and hoped it would disguise the uneasiness he felt at not remembering who she really was to him. "Now tell me, my dear young lady, if you know me so well, then who am I? Who am I really?"
And perhaps then I will know who you are...
Reply
She wished it could be as easy for her. That she could decide she wanted to forget him entirely, and manage to convince everyone around her that she had. Looking at the tap that opened his hiding spot in annoyance, Ginny was not at all sure that she would have the courage to open it had she known how.
"I'm beginning to think you're the one who's afraid," she said, frustrated. If he was going to stay down there, taunting her, she was afraid she would give in to the fear that was slowly eating at the anger, however much she tried to hold on to it. "The Tom I knew wouldn't hide from anything."
Reply
Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever...
That phrase pleased him, and rang a bell somewhere buried deep in a place he didn't know existed in his mind. But he kept on walking, and as he walked, he spoke to her.
"Do you have the least idea of what you're talking about, you foolish girl? You know my name, but you obviously know little of what I am, or you would certainly never think me even capable of fear! I hide from nothing; I lie in wait! I fear nothing; I am fear!"
And as the sink opened and he rose up from the black pit in the floor like a cobra from its basket, he fixed her with an unblinking gaze that rivaled the dead Basilisk's in pure malevolence.
And he gave a short, ironic bow. "Here I am, then. Is this what you wanted?"
Reply
I am fear. Well, he wasn't going to be her fear, not now that she had a choice in it. She tilted her head as she considered him, thinking more carefully about what he'd said. Foolish girl...know little of what I am. It occurred to her that made little sense; of course she knew what he was, he had told her. Didn't he remember that?
"You don't know me," she said, a hint of glee in her voice, faltering as she met his eyes for the first time, seeing the darkness in there. "You don't know..."
She didn't finish her sentence, not wanting to give herself away. If he didn't know her, he didn't know the things she had told him, which meant that Harry was safe. From this version, anyway; she didn't fancy anyone's chances if they had two versions of Voldemort after them. She had to keep him here; she couldn't let him get to them.
Reply
Leave a comment