Raven

Raven

There was a time when she was happy. It was a long time ago, but it was sweet. Brief, but sweet. She had lived in a house of warmth and love. She had brothers who protected her fiercely. She had her own room with her own possessions. She had a garden. A garden of herbs and flowers. She would carefully scoot around the garden, shooing off the gnomes, and nursing the plants tenderly as precious children. She had a mother and a father. They loved her too. Even though they were poor, she never lacked anything. She was sheltered and happy.

Then she left home. She followed the legacies of her six brothers and entered Hogwart´s. She recalled the beautiful arching of the Great Hall ceiling, a replica of the star-streaked heavens. Her cinnamon-hued eyes glowed in wonder and she was enraptured almost immediately.

She was one above the crowd. She stood out with her flaming red hair. She tried to shrink back, to hide behind some others. She didn´t want to be picked on. She wanted to stay behind and wonder by herself, but they wouldn´t allow her. They told her to stand up for herself and to speak out in class, but she feared them, being naturally shy.

She took solace in her diary. Well, it wasn´t really a diary. She had a friend finally. A person that understood her and pitied her. She loved her new friend. She delighted in him. Tom, he said his name was. She wrote avidly in the diary everyday, sitting on her four-posted with the curtains drawn. The scratching of her quill could be heard echoing in the chamber. He would respond. He was sweet, compassionate, and loving. He loved her. She would write about Harry Potter, the boy-that-lived. She wished she was his girlfriend, but instead she was only his best friend´s sister. She wrote about flying and how she loved the thrill of it. She wrote about the horrid Draco Malfoy and his words of torment.

Tom had much to say. He soothed her troubled emotions. He became a necessity. A drug. She wept and wept to him and he never complained. Not one word.

Tom, how old are you? She wrote on November 1^st, sprawled on her bed and her comforter wrapped around her.

Me? I´m sixteen, Ginny.

You´re five years older than me.

But I love you.

Oh, Tom...I know. I love you too.

I know, I know. Tell me, Ginny, how is school?

The strangest thing happened yesterday.

Yesterday was Halloween, Ginny. Didn´t you enjoy yourself at the feast? Tell me about it. You must have had great things to eat. Pumpkin pastry, did you have that? I love the pumpkin pastries.

No, no, Tom. I got paint down my front!

Was it orange paint? Maybe it was just a joke. You said your brothers liked to joke.

It was black. Black, like ink. I felt so muddled. I couldn´t even remember the feast. And you know what the worst part is?

What?

Something petrified Filch´s cat! Whoever did it also painted on the wall near Mrs. Norris that the Chamber of Secrets was open again! Chamber of Secrets? What does that mean? Tom, do you know? Tell me! Tom, what if I painted the words? I don´t remember anything! It looked like the ink on my robes, but I couldn´t tell...

It´s all right, Ginny. I´m sure that it wasn´t your fault. Maybe it was just a coincidence. After all, you probably just spilled an inkbottle over yourself. You probably don´t remember the feast because you were worked up about the cat. Don´t fret, Ginny. It´ll be okay.

Tell me about the Chamber of Secrets.

I don´t know anything about that. I haven´t the faintest idea what it means. Please, Ginny. It´s late. You should get some rest.

Okay. Goodnight, Tom.

Goodnight, Ginny.

Tom?

Yes?

I love you, Tom. You won´t ever leave me, right?

I´ll never leave you, Ginny. I love you too. Sweet dreams.

Sleep well, Tom.

I will.

It was after the Chamber of Secrets ordeal that people told her about Tom. He was evil. He was dark. He would´ve killed her. Ron´s face was flushed, his voice relieved. He told her that it was a good thing that Harry saved her, because otherwise she wouldn´t be alive. Oh, yes, she was grateful. She thanked Harry, but inwardly seethed. Tom. How could he take her Tom from her?

But she began to see him again.

In the candlelight, he would appear by her side. His eyes were of a dark hue, but she never figured out what. She could only see him in the dim and he would draw close to hold her. She ran her slender fingers through his elegantly kept hair. The ebon locks filtered through her hands. She lost her innocence to him, in secret of the Astronomy tower. There, they tumbled on the floor and in the morning she was stained with her blood. Proof of her virginity.

"Raven," she called to him. "Raven."

Now she sat in a white room. Everything was white. She lay on her bed, her eyes focused on the ceiling. Her hands traced the whitewashed walls. Her Raven stood out in this room of purity. She wasn´t happy. Her Raven only came at night. During the day, she wept, waiting for anyone- anything to come to visit her. The brilliant, unblemished room hurt her eyes. She suffered pounding headaches.

"Raven. Raven, please help me."

But he too was gone now. His voice was just a lingering echo on the walls. Her tears came in fresh torrents. He had abandoned her. He had left even after he had promised that he wouldn´t. She howled at her broken heart. Her Raven. Gone. Vanished like a wisp of smoke. Only the men and women dressed in white remained. They visited every day. They questioned her about her Raven. But she wouldn´t tell. She wouldn´t tell them about her precious treasure. She knew they made him leave.

Raven. Come back. Raven.

Raven.