The Girl Who Lived

----

And I'll break you

Because I lose myself inside you

I'll make you

fit in the space that I provide you...

Ginny gripped the battered black book to her chest like it was keeping her alive. Her breath hitched when she realized where her feet had taken her, but she cursed her pride and crawled into the bed. The scent and warmth radiating from the pillows did little to comfort her like she hoped it would; rather; she just felt the overwhelming guilt wash over her again.

I'll break you.

A yellowed parchment stuck out from the book. Ginny trembled and drew the sheets tightly around herself.

"Tom." She shuddered for a completely different reason than the rest of the wizarding world.

Because I lose myself inside you.

He broke every one of them.

Except her. Ginny lived. "Tom. I lived," she whispered to the book. "It took me a while. But I'm living." She remembered what her mother had said after Harry and Ron had found her in the Chamber. "You're very lucky, my dear... Not very many people can live after Voldemort decides he wants them dead."

It was a bond she shared with Harry. Ginny remembered the way he smiled at her from behind her mother in that moment, and while she didn't recognize it for what it was at the time, she knew now: Harry was relieved. He had someone to share with. Or maybe he was just relieved because she was alive. Ginny never asked him.

I couldn't even say, what I meant to say... That I want you. It doesn't hurt to say I want you.

I need you.

Ginny had given Tom everything he needed to kill her with. Her fears, her dreams. Her trust. Her soul. How does one survive after literally pouring out their soul into another?

Harry had saved her. Saved most of her, anyway. Tom, it seemed, had been determined not to let her go completely. He had taken part of her to Hell with him. Her trust.

Yes, you're all that I ever desired.

Still, I'll kill you in the end.

Eleven years old is a young age for a girl to stop trusting.

The parchment slipped from the book and Ginny picked it up. Her hand had finally stopped shaking. Her eyes found the sentence that brought it back. It didn't take much for the nightmares to come back- a glance from a certain Slytherin, Hagrid mentioning the Basilisk in CMC, or in this case... a simple sentence in a love letter.

"I'll keep you."

Harry's untidy scrawl was different from Tom's neat, precise letters. His intention was to protect her, not to possess her.

I couldn't even say...

Ginny stared at the words on the parchment she had received a week ago. "I don't want to lose myself again," she told the parchment. Was it too late? Had she let her guard down, and fallen in love?

"I won't let you." The battered Transfiguration book slipped from Ginny's hands and to the floor by Harry's feet. She stared at him. When had he come- how had he- and then Ginny remembered she was in his bed, not hers.

Harry sat beside her on his bed, all pink cheeks and windswept hair. She realized she had missed Quidditch practice. He gently pried the note from her fingers. "It's time for the Girl Who Lived to start trusting herself again," he whispered as gently as he touched her. Laying next to her, he listened to her sigh.

She inched closer to his warmth, hoping he wouldn't notice. "That's a lot to ask of me, you know."

I need you.

"I know." He slipped an arm around her and buried his face in her hair. "Trust is a choice."

"I'm scared."

"That's okay."

They lay like that for a long time. Ginny dreamt of sentences in a diary telling her terrible, lovely things. She dreamt of Harry with the sword of Godric Gryffindor. And before her brother woke them with an angry yell, she dreamt of setting fire to a diary and watching it turn to ash.