Ashes to Ashes

"Oof!"

Ginny fell, most of her things knocked out of her bookbag. Sitting on the ground indignantly, she glared up at Draco Malfoy, smirking rudely at her. "Might want to watch where you're going, Weasley," he said teasingly. "Careful now."

"Go away, Malfoy," she snapped, in no mood for his tricks. She gathered up her things from the ground and walked away, back straight. The first day back at school hadn't been especially wonderful, and now this was just the topping on the cake, running into Malfoy, of all people.

In a huff, she reached her dormitory. It was empty as usual, her two roommates undoubtedly off somewhere with some guys. She dumped the bookbag on her bed, then changed her mind and decided to see if anything was missing, or if Malfoy had put in a timed Dungbomb, or something like that, so she turned it upside down and let everything fall out.

She riffled through the books and parchments, not finding anything missing. Checking her bag again, there was nothing in there - nothing but a tiny green book that looked exactly like the diary except for its color.

She started shaking, eyes wide, skin pale. No, there couldn't be another diary. The first one had been utterly destroyed, the memories wiped from it. She had seen it with her own eyes, and Dumbledore had said so. Her shaking grew more violent, and she accidentally bumped against the bedpost, bringing her senses back momentarily. She grabbed for her wand, still shivering, and without taking her eyes from the diary, whispered a calming spell. It worked immediately, and she stopped, able to think clearly.

Staring at it, she knew she had to tell Dumbledore. It was obvious that Malfoy had planted the thing there, but why? Even he knew she was older, was more sensible, would never do anything like that again. What was his purpose? Maybe she should give it to Harry, he would handle everything?

"Why are you staring at that old Transfiguration text?" her roommate giggled. Ginny jumped, not having heard her come in. "Don't worry, it won't bite." She walked off to riffle through her trunk, and went back out, shutting the door.

So they couldn't see it. No one could see it but her and, obviously, Malfoy. Perhaps she should confront him instead. No, he would just deny everything and no one could prove it.

Without meaning to, as though she had planned it all along, she seized the book, opened it, and opened a tiny cut in her arm to let Tom out.

He materialized after a few moments, see-through and quite fuzzy around the edges. He looked a bit startled, then stared at her. She stared back. He didn't look quite like the Tom that she knew, but a bit older. His face, still framed by messy black hair, was more mature, but his eyes (with a tinge of red) still captivated her like no one else's, not even Harry's. She estimated his age at perhaps twenty.

"I hate you," she said unsteadily.

"Ginny?" he questioned softly.

"I know Malfoy gave the book to me. Why did he do it? The basilisk is dead, and you can't control me any more." She was crying. When had that started?

"Yes, he did," said Tom. That was so unexpected, she looked up with a start, not thinking he would tell her the truth. "The Malfoys explained everything to me. This memory of me - well, me, I suppose, since I'm dead - is twenty-one. I created two diaries, one as a test run, to open the Chamber of Secrets, and the other, carefully guarded, for everything else, as the real one."

"E-everything else?"

"Why don't you tell me about you, Ginny. I don't know too much," he said in that soft voice, compelling her to obey. She shivered slightly.

"I-I want to know why Malfoy gave me the diary," she said, surprised at her own strength.

Tom looked surprised, then chuckled. "Not weak, boring little Ginny any more," he said. "Are you? Now you're grown up."

"Stop playing with me," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking and failing.

"No one could have escaped from the Chamber without some damage," he said softly, mockingly. "Tell me, little Ginny, what's wrong?"

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder," she said unsteadily. "But I'm - I'm over all that now."

"You don't seem very over it to me," he said, looking her over critically. "You've grown very beautiful, Ginny, but you haven't grown emotionally. You're still little Ginny, shaking uncontrollably."

She looked quickly down at her hand. It wasn't shaking, so the calming spell must still be in effect. When she looked up, Tom was fading, smiling maliciously at her. "Write to me, beautiful little Ginny." He managed to brush his lips against hers before she knew what was happening, and then he was gone.

She gasped in shock. Tom had kissed her. Why would he kiss her? He had called her beautiful, she recalled with amazement. No one had ever called her that before. He was just trying to get at her, she was sure. But he never lied, he had told her he never lied when she was eleven. Of course he had lied then, even though he always spoke his mind to her.

The diary was still open, the blood soaked into the pages by now. The cut on her arm had healed awhile ago. She looked at her clock; the spell must have worn off by now. Not shaking, she realized that Tom always calmed her down. Now that she had the diary, maybe she wouldn't have the nightmares anymore? Her head hurt, but that was from before the calming spell. She had to keep the diary. She didn't want the nightmares anymore. Tom would keep her safe from herself.

***

This time around, she knew, she had to be more careful. She would be strong and not allow herself to be manipulated by Tom or anyone else. And undoubtedly, he would try something. The kiss was designed to confuse her - no doubt Malfoy had told him that she was a gullible little fool. She couldn't just throw the diary away, it kept her safe from her weaknesses, but she had to be aware of Tom's tricks.

She kept it in her bookbag for a few days, not writing in it. Needing some time to think, Ginny waited until she was sure she was ready. On the third night, she waited until her roommates were asleep, cast Lumos, and let a blob of ink drop into the diary, her customary greeting.

His reply was quick. Ginny?

I prefer Virginia, thank you.

He seemed to take the words out of her head. Leaving boring little Ginny behind, I see. Very well, Virginia, how are you today?

Perfectly normal. I suppose there's no point asking about a memory's well-being, she wrote acidly.

She could practically hear Tom's chuckle. No, there isn't. You sound like a Slytherin.

Gryffindor, thank you very much.

Too bad. Remember, all I know about you is what Malfoy told me.

Which one?

Both Lucius and Draco. I take it you know the younger?

Schoolmates. What did they tell you?

That you were a gullible fool. Of course, you were only eleven. You seem to have grown up.

I want to know why Draco gave me this diary.

There was a pause. Voldemort? she wrote impetuously, just to see what he would do.

I thought you knew me as Tom.

I've confused him, she thought triumphantly, and wrote, But it's your name, isn't it?

Well, yes. I understand that nowadays everyone calls me Voldemort or You-Know-Who, even, but this memory of me is used to only a few people calling me that.

Oh. But you're avoiding the subject.

If you promise to hear me out and not judge until the end...

All right.

There was another pause. Then, This whole thing was a setup.

What?

My death was a setup. When I was killed, the one who did it saved a bit of my ashes. It was all done under my - this me - orders, to kill my real self and bring to me to life. I hold secrets that my real self doesn't, for I Obliviated myself after saving the secrets in this diary.

Ginny was stunned. Why would Tom order himself to be killed? he seemed to take her silence as a signal to continue.

Two of me cannot exist at once. I hold knowledge in here that is necessary to the cause. I will be brought back and take the place of my former self.

She didn't know what to say. A thousand thoughts were spinning through her head, but she finally asked, How can a memory be brought to life?

You can do it.

Even more shocked, she froze. How-

Did you really think that just anyone could bring me out of the other diary? No, to do that, one must have some necromantic talent. You have a very good amount of it, but it's still raw power with no training. I can give you that, and you can bring me back.

I think I prefer you in a diary where you can't hurt anybody, she wrote fiercely, and slammed the book shut before he had a chance to reply. That was the good part about the diary; she could always have the last word.

But why in the world had he told her all this? She was a Weasley, for Merlin's sake, and a Gryffindor, and was only sixteen and had no special talents whatsoever. Was it another manipulation trick? But what was the point if he wasn't manipulating her but telling her outright what he was doing? And - good God, that meant Professor Snape was really a Death Eater. Ginny knew enough about necromancy, like anyone, to know that a part of one's body, especially ashes, was a powerful magical tool, and would probably be enough to anchor him to this world still.

Could he really expect her to help him? She was talking to You-Know-Who - Voldemort! Ginny decided she needed her head checked and started shivering a bit, but quickly quelled it with a glance at the green, green diary. The whole conversation had been very disturbing. She needed more thinking time.

***

She had thought all last night, and that morning, and not gotten anywhere. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why Tom had told her what she presumed to be the truth, and how disturbing it all was. She now had evidence to send Professor Snape, the Malfoys, and possibly others to Azkaban.

But, thinking about it more, she realized she hadn't. The only people who might know the truth were Dumbledore and Harry, and they didn't have enough evidence either. The only proof of the Death Eaters was the diary, and of course Tom could choose to write what he wanted. And he was remarkably good at charming people to do his will. She couldn't possibly inform the Ministry right now, and as for Dumbledore... well, he would want to take the diary away. And that meant she would start having nightmares again.

But she had thought the rest through. She was the one with the diary; Snape and Malfoy didn't know what Tom had told her, or if she had even talked to him at all. They couldn't approach her until she approached them for fear of getting turned in. Tom had given her a lot of power over them by putting himself in her hands, she thought. But that was what he was trying to do, give her a taste of power so she would agree to learn necromancy. At least she was smart enough to recognize that. And this Tom didn't know her, besides what Malfoy had told him. That gave her more of an advantage.

Unfortunately, Potions was the first class of that day. Ginny went in time to see Draco slip out of the classroom door. He paused and looked at her, lip curled, and an odd look flashed in his eyes, but he turned and walked away after a moment. She blinked bemusedly, wondering if he had some way to tell if she had read the diary or not, and went in.

She cursed to herself. No one was there but Snape, who regarded her from his desk, looking up from some work. The same inscrutable look was in his face too, but he hooded his eyes and scribbled away on the papers. She sat down and set up her things, realizing that she had come too early. The silence was awkward.

Ginny briefly considered telling him that she had the diary, but quickly got rid of that notion. She still needed more time to plan out how she was going to go about talking to Tom. Thankfully, the class passed quickly with only a few strange glances between them, and during her free period went to the library to research.

Trying to look as if she was choosing a table at random to study in, she sat down in the necromancy section and looked furtively around to make sure no one was watching. Finding no one, she looked up at the long rows of books on necromancers, chose A Short History of Necromancy, and settled down to read.

There were a few interesting parts. For all that she studied hard, she didn't know much about the subject. Everybody knew that body parts, ashes included, were powerful items for sympathetic magic, just like everybody knew that there was a reason necromancy was forbidden. But, of course, no one really bothered to find out what it was and passed over the subject as old and forgotten. Which, by most people, it was.

Necromancy is commonly known as death magic, blood magic, or bloody divination, one passage said. It is the darkest, most forbidden, and most forgotten of the Dark Arts. Practitioners who are not careful have ended up painfully dead, as semi-conscious zombies, or horribly disfigured and weakened. Almost every known necromancer has turned out like this. There have been no known necromancers since the early Renaissance.

This art has always been shunned. Even wizards who are in possession of or found with a necromancer's book have been given a life sentence in Azkaban. Anyone, Auror or not, who finds a necromancer practicing has authorization of the Ministry to kill or capture that witch or wizard immediately. If captured, they will be exectuted as soon as possible.

Ginny shivered. It was no wonder Tom had wanted to Obliviate himself of those memories, putting them in the diary. From some of the descriptions after that, of necromancers who weren't careful enough in their rites, it looked quite horrible. She thought: Let's just say I had decided to do it. I would be careful. Oh... that's what all of them must have said, and look how they ended up. Never mind. Stop reading this, Virginia!

But she didn't. Necromancer's books are bound in an odd-looking sort of leather that experts say is human skin. It is a telltale sign that the book should not be opened, let alone touched. Many necromancers put hexes upon their books so that only they, or other necromancers, could read them. It is suspected that there are a few books left, but the rest are in possession of the Ministry's Department of Mysteries.

She read a bit more, then decided to look for another, better book. This one didn't explain much. Within three-quarters of an hour, she had gone through a few more books and found out that necromancy involved bringing back the dead only rarely, and most of the time the reborn were part zombie. Bringing back a normal person was a once-in-a-few-lifetimes experience. For the most part, necromancers summoned and banished to the occasional demon, used sympathetic magic like influencing people with bits of their bodies, and used the most forgotten and forbidden dark arts there were; curses so old and deadly they were much worse than the Unforgiveables but not unforgiveable because no one remembered them anymore. A bit of glamoury, and divination using blood and gore, and astral travel, which wasn't technically dark magic but considered very difficult.

So what did Tom mean, she had a lot of raw necromantic talent? Ginny mused, putting the last book back on the shelf absent-mindedly. Did that mean she was good at all parts of it, or just using blood magic to raise people? And wasn't it usually a life for a life? She froze, struck by the realization that to raise Tom from the diary, she would have to take a life. But perhaps Snape would be doing it, since he had the ashes? No, she was the one with the talent, he might just help? Why was she even thinking about doing it anyway?

She shot up from the table and almost ran smack into Malfoy while trying to leave the necromancy section. Stumbling back, she managed not to fall, but glared up at him reproachfully. His eyes flicked over the book titles and traveled back to her meaningfully. "So..." he said quietly. "You've been writing recently?"

Sneering, she pushed past him, rather surprised at herself, and stormed out. Now she really needed more time to think. And undoubtedly, Malfoy would be telling Snape. At least they had no way to get at Tom while she still had the diary. And she wouldn't be giving it up any time soon.