Ficlet challenge #140: Breakthrough
Title: Breakthrough
Summary: Ginny broods about her recent escape from being possessed by Tom Riddle. Written in response to the prompt “The Burrow”. Very slightly AU.
Characters/Pairings: Ginny Weasley, Molly Weasley, George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Tom Riddle
Genre: General
Rating/Warnings: PG
Medium: Ficlet
Word Count: 432
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Sure
If yes, your Tumblr username: N/A
“What’s the matter with you, my girl? Perk up and come help me with dinner.” Mum whirled back to the orchestrated dance of pots and spoons and spice containers that was meal preparation at The Burrow.
I sighed and stood up. It was if no one remembered I’d been possessed by the spirit of an evil mastermind for a year, and nearly died of it. I’d gotten a hug and a reproach for trusting an artifact that kept its brain out of sight, and that was it. Poof! I was supposed to just be okay now. No need to talk about it anymore, nothing to see here, move along.
I certainly wasn’t supposed to miss the evil mastermind. Because that was sick and weird and wrong. Even if he’d been the best damned friend I’d ever had - like an older brother who actually cared about me. It had been a ruse, alright, but so what? At least he listened. And he taught me things. And who could blame him for doing what he had to do, really? If I’d been stuck in some magical prison artifact for decades, of course I’d do damned near anything to get ou-
I shook my head, hard. That was Tom talking. Or rather, the memory of Tom I could now summon up at will, like a luxurious little devil who sat on my mental shoulder whispering tidbits at opportune moments.
God, I missed him. Which was sick. But I did, so damned much. I wanted him back. I let the treacherous feeling circle softly in my mind, gently probing it like a sore spot on a tooth. It was feather-light and delicate, and wrong beyond wrong.
I let it blossom into words. Tom, please come back to me.
The thought jolted through me, half wish and half something else, something that reminded me of what Tom had begun to teach me about focusing raw magical intent without a wand. The intensity of it stopped my breath and I blinked hard, trying to ignore the wetness building at the corners of my eyes.
“Ginny?” Mum’s voice broke through. “Come help me, love.”
“Awww, let ‘er be, Mum,” said George.
I looked at him, shocked. The twins were usually anything but sympathetic.
“Yeah, she might be starting her monthly, you know,” said Fred. “Sensitive time.”
I felt my face flush all the way to the roots of my hair as I marched past them.
Imbeciles. Of course they don’t understand.
I forgot to breathe for a moment, terror and hope like a dagger in my chest. Tom?
19 points
Summary: Ginny broods about her recent escape from being possessed by Tom Riddle. Written in response to the prompt “The Burrow”. Very slightly AU.
Characters/Pairings: Ginny Weasley, Molly Weasley, George Weasley, Fred Weasley, Tom Riddle
Genre: General
Rating/Warnings: PG
Medium: Ficlet
Word Count: 432
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: Sure
If yes, your Tumblr username: N/A
“What’s the matter with you, my girl? Perk up and come help me with dinner.” Mum whirled back to the orchestrated dance of pots and spoons and spice containers that was meal preparation at The Burrow.
I sighed and stood up. It was if no one remembered I’d been possessed by the spirit of an evil mastermind for a year, and nearly died of it. I’d gotten a hug and a reproach for trusting an artifact that kept its brain out of sight, and that was it. Poof! I was supposed to just be okay now. No need to talk about it anymore, nothing to see here, move along.
I certainly wasn’t supposed to miss the evil mastermind. Because that was sick and weird and wrong. Even if he’d been the best damned friend I’d ever had - like an older brother who actually cared about me. It had been a ruse, alright, but so what? At least he listened. And he taught me things. And who could blame him for doing what he had to do, really? If I’d been stuck in some magical prison artifact for decades, of course I’d do damned near anything to get ou-
I shook my head, hard. That was Tom talking. Or rather, the memory of Tom I could now summon up at will, like a luxurious little devil who sat on my mental shoulder whispering tidbits at opportune moments.
God, I missed him. Which was sick. But I did, so damned much. I wanted him back. I let the treacherous feeling circle softly in my mind, gently probing it like a sore spot on a tooth. It was feather-light and delicate, and wrong beyond wrong.
I let it blossom into words. Tom, please come back to me.
The thought jolted through me, half wish and half something else, something that reminded me of what Tom had begun to teach me about focusing raw magical intent without a wand. The intensity of it stopped my breath and I blinked hard, trying to ignore the wetness building at the corners of my eyes.
“Ginny?” Mum’s voice broke through. “Come help me, love.”
“Awww, let ‘er be, Mum,” said George.
I looked at him, shocked. The twins were usually anything but sympathetic.
“Yeah, she might be starting her monthly, you know,” said Fred. “Sensitive time.”
I felt my face flush all the way to the roots of my hair as I marched past them.
Imbeciles. Of course they don’t understand.
I forgot to breathe for a moment, terror and hope like a dagger in my chest. Tom?
19 points