Paper Should Be Good Enough

Paper should be good enough--Chapter 9

Her eyes snap open. Her whole body is pain. She realizes that she is lying in the hospital wing, and she is magically bound to her bed. Her throat is raw, as if she had been screaming for five hours straight.

"Are you awake?"

She shifts, trying to match the voice to a face, but her position on the bed does not allow this. "Who are you?" she manages to say through the pain of her throat.

"Your darling boytoy's archnemesis. Draco Malfoy. I'm sure you know who I am?"

She settles into the magic binding her, submitting to the constrictive bed. "Yes, I know who you are. Number one, do you have any idea why I am--"

"Bound to a bed like a crazy person?" Malfoy laughs. "Because you were acting like one. I think your brother got a nasty scratch off of those nails of yours, one or two of the Gryffindor girls aren't going to be the same, and Potter might have gotten a good bite out of him, although I would think that's quite normal in the relationship between you two."

"Shut it," she says. "Number two, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to check on you. Sounds odd, I know, but it's within my interests. I was told to wait here to make sure that you eventually came around."

"By Madame Pomfrey?"

"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you." He laughs again. "By the way, fab dress. Did it take your life savings to buy it?"

"I'm wearing the dress?" She shakes her head the best she can. "I made it myself, out of my old dress robes. I think I did pretty well," she adds, as though to challenge him.

"You don't remember any of it, do you?" Surprise almost jells in Malfoy's voice. "You were in a coma in the girls' dorm, and you were found in that dress. They think the problem's an extended Memory Charm, but it's not." Smugness enters his voice, and she wants to ask, but he goes on. "You came to when they were transporting you and you were like an animal, clawing and biting. Eventually they Stunned you and got you here, but I don't think Pomfrey's ever going to be the same again. You've been out ever since. Four days."

"What's wrong with me?" she asks aloud, and the fear is oh-so-present in her voice.

Malfoy just laughs, pushes his chair back, and his footsteps echo away, leaving her staring at the ceiling alone, without him, without Tom, without anybody.

--------

The point-wizards, with poker cards in hand, are left staring at the very unhappy Dark Lord.

"Erm... welcome back, Master..." one supplies.

Voldemort snarls at him. "Activate the pentacle now, while the chance remains."

The line of magic bursts along the white-hot seams of reality until the whole pentacle is traced, and the Dark Lord is gone in a dramatic flash.

"He always was the drama queen," Lucius says from the card table. "Can we get back to the game?" He glances at his poker hand. "I think I've got the hang of it."

--------

The letter is tucked inside of her trunk, to her surprise.

Ginny,

I had a dream last night, about you. Now, don't get upset, this is just a dream, but this is rather important. In the dream, you were kissing another man. No, not kissing, it was more than kissing. He had dark hair, that's all I could see, but you were just so into it and... well, it was a little unnerving. Not that I'm saying you're cheating or anything. If anything, you're right, I'm cheating on you with Hermione. But the end of the dream... you pulled away from him and your lips were covered in blood and the whole of your front was, too, and you fell over like you were dead. The man you were kissing looked at me and I woke up and my scar hurt like hell. If you know anything, Ginny, if you can think of any reason why my scar would twinge like that, tell me. It's really important.

Love,

Harry

She lowers the parchment and blinks. She is numb again, because part of her, most of her is gone now. All there is, is fear and vague misunderstanding.

The girls come into the dorm, chattering, and Ginny suddenly has the presence of mind to roll up the parchment and lower it to her side. Dianthe and a few others run over to her as soon as they notice her.

"Ginny? Are you all right? Before, you were..." "When did they let you out? Oh, I'm so jealous, you got to miss four days..." "Do they know what's going on?"

"I don't know," she says. She glances down at her dress. "I have to change." She kneels down and pulls out her robes, a skirt and a shirt. The girls stare at her.

"Are you sure you're all right, Ginny?" Dianthe says. She looks over at the other girls, bewildered.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she says. "You guys had better go down to dinner. I'll be down soon."

They leave, twittering, and she begins to change. In the mirror, a red-haired green-eyed girl, so pale, so freckled, so alone. "Tom," she says, and her fingers absentmindedly brush down her collarbone, to rough skin, almost a burn.

She buttons the shirt. A dull, throbbing pain builds between her temples as she does so. An animal groan escapes her lungs, sharp pain in her chest, and suddenly--

"Gin love, are you all right?" Tom's loving arms circle her, and the puzzle pieces of her soul click. Her eyes open wide, and Ginny strokes a hand down his arm.

"Now I am."

"That's the spirit." He kisses the top of her head. "Ron forced me away. He knows that I'm helping you, and he'll do anything to stop you from stopping him. The dance is in two days, so we must be prepared. Do you understand?"

"Of course, Tom," Ginny says. She looks up at him and smiles, but suddenly frowns. "Harry's scar twinged. He had a dream about me cheating on him with somebody."

"Did you?" Tom's face is bland.

"Of course not!" Ginny shakes her head vehemently. The very idea! "But he said I was, well, snogging with someone and there was blood all down my front and I... died. Supposedly. And his scar twinged."

Tom shakes his head. "Ron again. He's trying to make Harry feel guilty because he suspects you two are in love. With that, he's saying that if Harry loves you, he'll kill you. What a thought, huh?"

"Harry would never do something like that." Ginny's hands grip around herself. "We're meant for each other."

"Ginny." Tom touches her cheek and she moves against it. "Don't worry about it. Go to dinner. Eat. Get strength."

"Yeah," she says, and Tom disappears into her head.

--------

Many eyes train on Ginny as she comes into the Hall; Draco Malfoy's condescending blue eyes, Harry's worried, warm green ones, her friends' frightened ones. She sits, self-conscious, clutching her bag close to her.

Nearly the whole Gryffindor table goes silent as she sits next to Neville, leaving her even more unnerved. "Ginny," Ron says, takes her hand, squeezes it. The surprise registers even more when she sees concern in his eyes. "I was so worried. Are you all right?"

She averts her eyes, unnerved by his obvious faked worry and just how deceitful her brother is. "Y-yeah, I think so," she stutters. Her eyes fall upon Harry's face, fallen yet very, very relieved.

Ron squeezes her hand again, and she glances over at him. Something glints in his eyes, and Ginny is surprised to see--tears? Her brother, crying over her injury?

She remembers one day when she was little, she fell from an old toy broom while playing kid's Quidditch and skinned her knees. Ron was there immediately with that same worried look, he stopped her crying, and took her to Mum, who healed her right away.

She remembers this, and guilt fills every nook of her mind.

No! No! This Ron is different. He turned his back on Harry two years ago. You know how Ron is. Don't be deceived, don't be naive, Ginny!

Tom's voice bringing her back to the present.

She nods to Ron and swallows hard. "Thanks, Ron," she says, and withdraws her hand from his. The Gryffindor table stops looking over and goes back to its usual chatter. Ginny glances over at Neville. "Did I miss anything?"

Neville blinks, then beckons her closer. He lowers his voice. "Harry and Hermione had a fight."

"Really?" she whispers back.

"Yes. He said he was sick of her controlling everything, and she said that if he wanted to control things, he should do something once in a while instead of just moping around about... You-Know-Who and his parents." Neville winces. "It wasn't pretty."

Ginny isn't sure whether to be happy or upset. She settles on a medium. "Oh well," she says, leans away. "So, Ron, have you got a date to the dance?"

Ron grins a grin that is a few shades short of beaming. "Cho Chang. I asked her and she said yes. That girl is beautiful." He notices the look Hermione is giving him, which mainly consists of the rolling of her eyes. "Not to mention her intellect," he continues. "She's a ruddy genius."

"Right," Hermione says. She looks at Harry. "And you've got nothing against this, right?"

He raises his hands in surrender stance. "You know we went out for one month and it didn't work out. I endorse this entirely."

"Even though she's the prettiest girl at Hogwarts."

"Not the prettiest." Hermione giggles as if it's meant for her, but Harry's eyes are on her. She flushes, but stays silent. Neville heaves a sigh.

--------

Later that night, Harry slips her a note. After she changes into her nightgown, she unrolls it to see that it's an empty piece of parchment with a note attached to it with a paperclip. I enchanted this piece of paper. Write on it and I'll receive the message, eventually. I've got the twin. It's called journey parchment.

She scrambles for a quill and some ink, and writes immediately: Can you read this?

Her own ink glides to the surface with a new message: Yes. It works. That's good. So do you know anything about my dream?

I've got no idea. She can't tell him what she really thinks. Are you sure it doesn't mean that you're just nervous about Ron? Like Ron'll kill me if he finds out we're together?

Ron wouldn't do something like that. He's been a wreck since you've been in the hospital wing. Does anyone know what happened?

No. Maybe an extended Memory Charm, but that's a guess. I'm just supposed to eat more than usual and stay around people in case something happens again. They think it got worse when I was out for two hours before anyone found me.

I'm so worried about you. Get better so I can feel better again.

You're just saying that to be cute.

No, I'm not, but I appreciate being called "cute."

You're so cute, I wish you were here so I could snog you senseless.

Well, this is safer.

What if Ron sees it?

I disguised it. It looks like History of Magic homework. He'll have no interest. Yours does too, by the way.

Ah, quite clever, Mr. Potter. So, about the dance...

I promise. Even if Hermione kills me for telling the truth, I'll do it.

That's not going to happen. Two of the other 5th year girls, Fiona Dumont and Christa Hamilton, come in. So you and Hermione fought? Ginny writes.

Neville told you, hmm? Then why are you asking me? You already know.

I thought I'd hear your perspective, but forget it.

She was trying to control every aspect of my life. Hermione is... high maintenance. I can't stand her anymore.

I have to go. Bed. Tomorrow is another day. I love you.

I love you, too.

She puts down the quill and smiles down at the paper.

"Working real hard, hmm? I bet you it's a love note to Colin," Fiona says, looking over Ginny's shoulder.

"Or Neville," Christa supplies from the other shoulder.

"Or Harry Potter himself. Wow, our Virginia's quite a siren." Both of them giggle, and it sets Ginny's teeth on edge.

"It's just History of Magic homework," Ginny says. "I'm going to bed. G'night, all."

She crawls into her bed, pulls the hangings around. She clings to herself, curled into the fetal position, trying to keep herself together. More and more, she feels as though reality is pulling her apart, willing her not to exist, her body unmaking itself. Only with Harry's touch and Tom's touch does she feel complete, whole, stable.

As though clutching herself will keep the missing parts of her soul from drifting, she dares not to move from this fixed position. Her breathing is low, shallow, and she makes only one effort when she feels near unconsciousness.

Tom...

His warm arm slides around her, and she settles against him, his breath hot against her neck and cheek. "What's wrong, Ginny love?"

"I wanted to ask you that." She swallows, and it takes more work than usual. "What's going wrong with me? I've gone to the hospital wing twice in the past month. It's getting harder and harder to do anything, even chew and swallow, or to change."

Tom takes a deep breath, runs his fingertips along her collarbone as he releases his warm breath over her cold, weak body. "I don't know," he says. "Hold together, Ginny. You must be there to help Harry."

"I can barely even walk to class without wheezing," she says. "How can I battle a powerful Death Eater?"

His hand strokes down to her breast and a rush of warmth, of strength, fills her. "I share my strength with you, Ginny," he says. "You need it more than I." He kisses her cheek. "Hold together. You mustn't fade away when it feels like the end. When the end comes... you'll know it for certain."

He melts away like smoke in the wind and Ginny sleeps comfortably for the first time since her awakening at the hospital wing.

--------

The Dark Lord glares at the point-wizards. "I told you not to push the power that far," he snaps. "I took too much away from her and she nearly died after her feral came out."

"Feral?" One of the point-wizards winces after he asks it.

"Really, Zachary, I thought you were well-versed in soul magic." Voldemort smirks. "Lucius, explain. I won't waste my time."

Lucius smirks proudly. "The feral is what comes out when the soul first leaves the body, the last gasps of the remainders of the soul. If the soul is pulled from a healthy body, the feral will react. It will not if the body dies first."

"The girl nearly died when her feral took her over. It is lucky that your son was there to send the feral back, Lucius." Lucius nods, looking quite proud. Voldemort glares at the point-wizards again. "You nearly ruined our chances. Our controls must both remain equal so that we are not discovered. I was forced out, naturally, and was forced to jump quite a few fireplaces before I got back here.

"Quite obviously... I am not happy with you five."

Lucius leaves the basement as the chorus of screams begin. As he closes the door behind him, he heads into the kitchen, where his wife is preparing a large breakfast.

"How is the business going, Lucius?" Narcissa asks as she watches the pots and pans magically do all the work.

He glances at the basement door, laughs, and says, "Splendidly, darling. Splendidly."