Fall on your Knees

Chapter Summary:

Events take place after Ginny's graduation at Hogwarts, when she is 27 years of age and thus in the year 2008. You are warned now; this is nothing like the Ginny that chased after Harry and she has grown to be more mature and independent. Couplings aren't set in stone, and are prone to change

In this chapter, Tom spins his desires into Ginny's mind, and Ginny begins to weave the web for him. The treacherous web has only one person in mind: The Boy Who Lived. Siblings return to their roots and strengthen the ties that bond.

chapter four

you come from a star

The little prince gazed at him for a long time.

"You are a funny animal," he said at last. "You are no thicker than a finger..."

"But I am more powerful than the finger of a king," said the snake.

The little prince smiled.

"You are not very powerful. You haven't even any feet. You cannot even travel..."

"I can carry you farther than any ship could take you," said the snake.

He twined himself around the little prince's ankle, like a golden bracelet.

"Whomever I touch, I send back to the earth from whence he came," the snake spoke again. "But you are innocent and true, and you come from a star..."

-- The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint Exupéry

*

The café was not out of the ordinary; a simple, wizarding roadside café where young girls looking for some extra money and lonely single mothers liked to work. The owner was an old, balding but compassionate and caring man whose long-life dream had been to own a café. He had received more than his share of insurance money from the death of his wife and made it a habit of giving money to struggling pregnant teenage mothers who were lost and came to him for a job and shelter.

Kate Fudge, whose father had been the late Minister of Magic, reported for her shift, changing into an apron and flashing a wide grin at the man. Ahh, Kate, she was a single mother who in her spare time tried to hit it big with auditions for the latest musicals and such.

Two men with their eyes stuck at the servers' chests were sipping their beers at the bar, quietly whispering to themselves. Their wands poked out of their back pants pocket, and Jamie, a former kleptomaniac, eyed them carefully.

A woman, in her twenties, redheaded and at least 5'5", came in the café as if it was her regular and sat down, ordering a coffee with milk. In her hands, she held some old, tattered looking but very important documents. When her drink arrived, she pushed it far from the papers, like she were afraid to spill on them.

She read the paper intently, as she was in the middle of an engrossing novel. However, the look on her face was not one of being immersed; rather, it was as if she had just discovered something wonderful.

She ran a finger alongside the edge of her wand, and waved it methodically in the air as if she was casting an invisible spell. She tapped the tip nearly into the drink and swirled.

She sat the coffee down and picked up the documents, getting ready to leave. With another hearty gulp of her coffee, she got up and left.

The man, who was watching from behind the counter, sniffed in uncertainty.

Hmm. Strangest customer he had had all day.

*

-- A conversation between Ginny and Tom

Tom...I finally understand what you have been wanting all along.

Did you get... it?
Yes, Tom, but what's that in your hand?

(silence)

But, Tom...that's...why? Why?

Oh, dear girl, I have been telling you for days that my own reflection is the thing that prevents me from continuing on further. Did you not understand that I meant the Boy?

(silence)

Oh Ginny, what other Boys are there that you know? Which ones have a capital B? Ginny...I'm so sorry for surprising you like this.

It's not a surprise...just...Tom, I always thought the feud between you and him was a joke.

You will never get through life if you think the deadliest, most serious things are jokes, Ginny.

(silence)

(silence)

So...you...want to...murder him? Is that right?

No, unfortunately, the earliest of curses prevents me from doing so. I am too much of a sentiment to ask you to kill him, Ginny. It's too much of a bother to let anyone kill him--

--what are you planning to do, then?

Ah, I'm planning to--

--are you absolutely sure this is necessary, Tom? Why can't you be independent of me to survive without the death of Harry?

Because he is what is impeding me... Old magic, very, very old magic that his mother made...when he killed me in the Chamber, Ginny, he made sure that I can't exist without his death.

(silence)

Are you ready to hear my plan?

Yes...well...go ahead.

Let him kill himself.

What...Tom...you're going to...what? I don't understand.

What I mean is if he kills himself, no problem. The people will all suspect that poor little Potter has gone crazy... insane ...no one will suspect anyone.

Well... how do you make him do that?

(silence)

Tom?

I found a spell a while ago. It is a variation of the Imperius Curse, but the ignorant wizards and witches at the Ministry have no idea of its existence. It was created by Salazar Slytherin - rather fitting, don't you think? - to get rid of his so-called partner, Godric Gryffindor.

Oh.

There is only one thing I need you to do, Ginny.

What is it?

Get Harry to be alone at your apartment. And this is the most important thing - make sure he stays overnight. The spell needs at least 6 hours to activate and he must be in a deep slumber, to make sure that he is either sleeping or cursed.

(silence)

Ginny?

Tom, are you going to kill him?

(quiet laugh) No, Ginny. Like I told you, he is going to kill himself.

*

"You didn't mean what you said last night about Ron, did you?" Hermione asked quietly, buttoning up her shirt. She summoned her handbag and briefcase over to her side of the bed.

"What?"

"You just didn't sound like you cared a lot about him."

"I didn't mean that. You know I do...he's still my best friend, whether you're my girlfriend or not. It's just that--it was in bed." He paused. "I don't think very clearly in bed, especially when you're there, too."

"Are you going to still talk to him? What are you going to do about the dinner plans you had arranged for today?"

"I'm still going to go, of course."

"What are you going to say to him?"

"Hermione, stop caring and worry about your conference, all right? I've got this taken care of...you don't have to worry if I've lost Ron."

Hermione relaxed and sat up, carrying her briefcase and kissing Harry's cheek. "Thank you so much, Harry."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "You keep acting like this is your fault, Hermione."

"I can't help it."

"Well, it's not."

"You're just saying that..."

"For once in your life, Hermione, stop blaming this on yourself...it's just life. Things like this happen...you can't get so crazy over it." He stopped talking and looked at Hermione. "Tell me, Hermione, if he does go crazy over it, are you going to give up what we have?"

Hermione froze, and looked at Harry's luminous green eyes. "No," she said sincerely. "No, never."

*

Ginny stood outside Ron's door, wondering briefly what she was doing there. She needed a reason, any reason, to invite Harry over, and going to her brother, the best friend, seemed like a good idea.

Until she realest that since Hermione had broken up with Ron, Harry was probably off somewhere shagging Hermione.

A boom, a click, a realization. The sibling love for him was still driveled by the fact that he was so naive, and acted more like a younger brother than older. Responsibilities, obligations...she felt accountable for him all of a sudden, especially since she had witnessed the whole ordeal and had not said a word to him.

"Ron!"

She heard a clunk and something falling, and clumsy footsteps as Ron got up to open the door. He rubbed his tired eyes a few times before he greeted Ginny.

"Ginny."

He was still wearing a suit and a tie. The break-up must have not been good for his Ministry standing. "Ron," she said, spinning lies quickly. "I heard about the break-up...I, uh, just came here, to see if you were okay."

Ron ran a hand through his hair, the way he always did when he was distressed. "Come on in," he muttered.

"So uh, are you alright?"

"Oh Ginny, I'm a horrible brother...all the while I should've been looking out for you, I was too busy involved in that ..." he screwed up his face, searching for a word.

"Relationship?" Ginny offered.

"I'm sorry...after mum's death, you've seemed so distant. Everybody was too caught up to reach out to you, and I feel like I've failed as an older brother. When mum died, it's like ... a part of you died." He blinked blankly. "We've all gotten used to it, but I don't think you ever did."

"It's not about mum," she said quietly.

"What?"

"It's not about mum," she said patiently, somewhat distressed at her brother's distraught state. She was still a sister, not a good one, but she did have binds.

"I changed," she said lamely. "That's all."

"Yeah well, I should've gotten to know you, in the least...."

"You had your own life. You shouldn't be apologising just because I'm not the person you know anymore," Ginny said, a bit of the edge tilting back into her voice.

"I shouldn't have done a lot of things," Ron muttered.

This was not what Ginny had come here for. She had come here looking for a solution and instead was presented with a problem. It was far from her own problem, but she felt like she had walked into her own mess.

"It just wasn't meant to be, Ron," she said desperately. Ginny, being a lot of things, had never really been skilled at talking to people when they were in their worst state of mind.

"Sometimes I wonder if fate can go against itself," Ron said, his mood visibly changing. He sat back in his armchair and a possessed look began to overcome his dulled blue eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"If fate is what you make out to be, how come there are such things as Fate Charms? Do they affect the outcome at all, or are those just a part of fate? What if there were meant to be two destinies that overrode each other?"

"Overriding destinies are part of fate," she said. "Voldemort's Fate Charm guaranteed him power and success, but Harry was destined to destroy that. Legends said that the returning Dark Lord was suppose to kill the one that stood in his way, but Harry's fate overrode the fate the legends gave Voldemort."

"Was it fate that led you down to the chamber?"

"No...I think it was something much more major."

"Why did you go down there, Ginny? I never understood. How could you trust such an evil thing like that with all your heart?"

Ginny did not want to lie. She squirmed in her seat and looked away before answering. Finally, she talked. "Ron, I just came here to see if you were okay...now that you seem better, I should leave."

Ron did not get up to stop her.

"Ginny - tell Harry I can't make it for dinner, will you?"

Ginny nodded.

*

"Ginny."

Ginny rarely came to his place of work - he was mildly surprised she even knew where the building was. It was unplottable because of all the anti-Dark magic ties. There were too many cuckoos still out there with wands, planning revenge against the Order.

The building itself was an architectural masterpiece and if it were not for the fact that it had such political importance, the Ministry would probably have renovated it into a museum or something else with potential of being a landmark.

The main support of the building was a large, steel arch-shaped reinforcement. This opened Victorian-era decorating potential that suited the Mayfair Building's shadowy, hopeful mood.

Thus, Ginny hopelessly contrasted against the building's rich, dark, and earthy colours. She was wearing a bright sweater and crimson suede pants. She stood confidently in Harry's waiting room and wore a flashy smile.

"Harry," she said. "I came to tell you that Ron can't make it for dinner tonight."

Harry relaxed a bit; regardless of what he told Hermione, he was not looking forwards to an evening of lying to his best friend. "That's alright...somehow I suspect you have more to say than that?"

"Right. I want to invite you out to dinner, there's some Order stuff that I want to discuss with you." Harry sensed the ulterior motive beneath her immediately, no matter how cheery and casual her manner was.

What did she want? Ginny felt so dangerous now, even dark. He did not know if he could trust her properly.

But then again, it was just dinner.

"Sure...I'd be happy to."

"Great! Well, I'll let you get back to work." Breezily, Ginny showed herself the way out.

*

The air was thick with excitement, like even the weather knew that something major, something magical was about to take place. The restaurant Ginny chose was secluded and held an air of mystery, which was perfect if Ginny were to lure him back to her apartment afterwards.

Of course, that might've been all done for her if Harry were to get drunk.

The restaurant had the strongest wines in Britain and corresponded by surrounding the restaurant with Portable Clouds and making the atmosphere seem heavenly.

Harry was five minutes late, but Ginny didn't notice. She smiled sincerely when he sat down, pushing a menu into his hands. His hair, she noticed, was untidier than usual and his tie was crooked.

Hermione, obviously, had gotten back with him. She could even detect the very subtle scent of Hermione's perfume. She took a guess at what he had been up to - Hermione had just come home from covering an International Confederation of Wizards' Conference and managed to squeeze in some quick shagging with Harry to declare violently that Harry was hers, just in case the naive ex's sister thought she had any claim.

She was getting very good at perceiving and understanding things she wasn't told.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Harry apologized hurriedly. "Things uh - ran late at work."

"That's okay," Ginny said nonchalantly. "Well, let's order. I've heard some good things about their chicken and strawberry wine."

"Excellent."

When the food came and Harry had his first sip of wine, Ginny started to ease her way in. "I went to see Ron today."

"H--how was he?"

"Heartbroken, but I think he'll get over it. I think you need to go see him," Ginny said carefully.

"See him?"

He repeated everything, like he comprehended nothing.

"You are his best friend, aren't you? Even if you're sleeping with Hermione?"

Harry nearly dropped his wine glass. "Of course," he said. "But he doesn't know - did you tell him?"

"No."

He eased a little, sighing. "Thank you. Please don't tell him - Hermione and I are still talking about it."

"What, about when you're going to tell him or if you're not going to tell him at all?"

"Of course we're going to tell him!"

"When? He doesn't deserve this." The bitterness in her voice surprised even her.

"I know...I know he doesn't," Harry said quietly, somewhat subdued. Ginny felt like she had attacked him until he retreated to the same realm of his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," she apologised. "You'll tell him ... when you're ready."

"No, it's alright...you are his sister." Harry said this like it was a bad thing, something to be ashamed of and something he wanted to have nothing to do with. Something he wanted to get rid of, something that was annoying him.

He cleared his throat. "So, uh, you said you had Order business to discuss?" It was clear the subject of Ron was annoying him to no end.

"Oh, yes. Have you been to see Professor Dumbledore lately?"

He coughed uncomfortably. "I've been busy, but I was planning for a visit tomorrow."

"You should go see him," Ginny said, passive. "He's ... on the brink of death."

"That's what he was like last year."

Ginny had no idea Dumbledore was even in the hospital last year. "But you can see it in his eyes...he knows and everybody around him feels it too. I think you should go visit him."

"Yes...yes, I will. You should see what everyone's like in the Mayfair Building now...it's like it has lost meaning without Dumbledore. But, he always said that death was the next great adventure." After he said this, he took a healthy draught of wine.

Ginny sipped hers very slowly. While Harry had ordered a very strong version of Pandora wine, she had only ordered a weak Avalon Mist. She did not intend to be drunk when Tom performed the spell.

She took notice that Harry was starting to become quite outgoing and free-willed after his third glass of Pandora. She, of course would perform a sleeping charm on him just in case. The strength of the Pandora wine and sleeping charm would no doubt knock him out for at least eight hours.

Harry was undoubtedly drunk after the dessert. Ginny took great care to pretend to be caring and concerned for his media image, because there were other diners there, watching their every move intently. She was sure that any second, one of them would snap a photo of The Boy Who Lived drunk and trying absurdly to claw at Ginny's chest.

Not only would a photo be such bad publicity for Harry (she would hate to see him bad-mouthed), but she had a sick feeling that if she were to appear on the Daily Prophet, half-dragging Harry outwards and Harry with his hands so dangerously near her chest, Hermione would be after her like a German shepherd.

Ginny had renewed her Apparition license, so she Apparated home, with Harry alongside her. He was slouching all over her as she fumbled with the keys, somewhat alarmed at how ... sleazy Harry was acting. This was a part of him she didn't know he had. It made him seem more vulnerable.

She dragged him to her bed and for a second, Harry looked as if he were expecting Ginny to lie on the bed, as well. However, he didn't know much after that because Ginny cast a sleeping charm.

As soon as she had cast the first charm, Tom appeared.

Excellent work, Ginny. This shouldn't take too long. I have to reserve my magic for the spell, so please tie and bound him. He needs to remain utterly still for this, or the spell might mutilate him.

Faithfully, Ginny conjured up handcuffs and ropes, tying Harry against the frame of her bed. Harry's eyes were closed and his glasses were slipping. Almost caringly, Ginny bent over and picked up his glasses, placing them on her bedside table. It was when her hand brushed against his skin that she realised how major and important what was about to taken happen was.

Was she really going to help Tom help Harry kill himself? The world revolved around her. The heavy panting of her breath, the stillness of Tom's movements, and the lack of movement from Harry's shaken body.

It was then and now when Tom stood by Harry's bedside, with his wand in hand, that she noticed how much they resembled each other. The smoked out, hollowed eyes, messy black hair, and the brilliance of their eyes, Harry's a luminescent green and Tom's a chilling blue.

She sat, enveloped by the darkness, watching Tom's figure as he whispered words and periodically glanced at the sheet to make sure they were making progress. Harry's arm twitched and she was sure he was going to wake up.

Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe.

Tom held out a vial and pierced Harry's forearm until a drop of blood dribbled into it. He made a cut on his own forearm, and used a charm to make sure Harry's blood had flowed into his own vein.

The dead poets that eat their own sorrow beneath the soil of the earth shall rise again. They shall pierce the flesh and mind of the forsaken's until he thinks nothing but the worst of humanity; the screams that pierce through the earth and originate from hell; the cry of the mother as her child rests lifelessly; the bitterness of an ex-lover as he watches on; the ripping of the heart as two lovers are separated forever.

The forsaken shall continue to hear these, until he returns to the earth from whence he came.

Ginny watched on, feeling helpless. Every limb of Harry's body twitched unnaturally, making him look like a deranged string puppet. Tom's wand rose up and down, silver and green streaks ripping out from the tip and encompassing Harry's body like a net.

Ginny felt her own heartbeat all too well. The blood rushed to her head, making her dizzy and - scared.

She blinked. Harry looked lifeless, dead; there was dullness to his eyes that hadn't been there. He fell to Ginny's bed with a soft thump, and Tom retracted his wand, looking pleased.

"We are done," he said, somewhat exhausted.

He saw the frightened and confused look in Ginny's eyes. He said nothing as he kissed her.

*

oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god. i'm sitting here and harry is shaking so violently i'm afraid of what's going to happen. my head pounds from what i've just seen and my eyes hurt. even when i see tom walk over to me, i say nothing. he is so gentle in the way he moves. i feel his lips brush against mine gently, but all i do is stare at the mirror image of him that is on the bed and ceased twitching, but now is lying back in such a relaxed manner i'm afraid he is dead.

i don't want to be a murderer.

but tom musters with every fibre of his body to tell me without words that harry is not dead. we are not murderers. if anything, i feel him reassure me that,

harry will be the murderer. i still feel so responsible because i was the one that got him drunk. the one that trapped him in this frightful nightmare. i wonder what hermione's expression will look like when she discovers that her boyfriend does not come home for the night.

she will call me, ask me if i've seen anything. i will say nothing, just tell her that she's too overprotective. i will then send harry home.

i wonder what hermione's expression will be like when she discovers her boyfriend has become suicidal. i wonder if she will blame on herself. i wish she would, because then it would ease the guilt off me.

if it were not for the fact that tom is in this with me, that this is all for him, i think i would be going mad right about now.

*

When Hermione arrived home, the first thing she saw was that Harry was not there.

He wasn't there.

She yelled into the bathroom, checked the sheets of the bedroom to see if he had settled down for a nap, everywhere, but he was nowhere to be found. She also checked the flat for notes he might've left behind, but there was nothing. The only clue she received was when she checked the closet and saw that one of Harry's plain dress robes was gone.

That could've meant two things. Either Harry had left for a semiformal event, or they had been robbed. She frowned. The latter was too unlikely; what kind of a robber nicked only dress robes and left the other valuables? Yes, she thought, Harry had definitely left for an event.

But it was about one now. She hadn't meant to come home so late from the gala dinner, but it was worth it because she had produced an exclusive interview with Dumbledore's granddaughter, Isabella Dumbledore-Toxen and she just didn't speak to anybody.

She felt awkward alone. She hadn't been in an empty flat, all by herself since she had first graduated from Hogwarts, and even that was relatively short-lived because she found a roommate the next week.

She convinced herself that Harry was probably just out at another Order event, and it was running late for whatever reasons, she sat down in front of the telly and tried to watch a show on WWN about a group of six friends in Muggle New York City, trying to live independently (ironically, the show was named Acquaintances). She didn't want to go to sleep, not yet. It would feel too weird without Harry there, now that she had gone through the torture of breaking up with Ron.

Russ was complaining that his current girlfriend had such a messy flat that when he tried a Dust Charm, most of the furniture flew out the window, along with the dust. The show was disturbingly unrealistic on how wizards and witches in their late twenties really lived, but it was good for laughs, at the very least.

It was when Rochelle had announced her pregnancy that Hermione felt another pang of loneliness that she started to worry again about where Harry was. It was now past two; the WWN was running an Acquaintances marathon that would end at six in the morning. No doubt, the Wireless Wizarding Network definitely had single and lonely people in mind when they planned it.

Hermione got up and felt so uneasy about Harry's absence that she reached for Harry's telephone, giving Ginny a ring, despite the fact that it was in the middle of the night. Well, Ginny probably wasn't sleeping anyway.

Ginny answered with her voice panicky and exhausted.

"Hello?"

"Ginny, it's Hermione. Sorry to disturb you, but uh - Harry said he would have brief dinner with you tonight and then go off to some short Order meeting or whatever."

"Yes, we had dinner."

"He's not home yet and I'm getting really worried."

"Hermione, you're overreacting." Ginny sounded annoyed.

"What time did your dinner end? He left the flat around 7 and I'm pretty sure his meeting was at 10."

"We ended dinner at 9. That means he probably just wandered around the shops for a while and then went to the meeting. And it's probably running late - Hermione, just fucking relax, okay?" Ginny said again, hearing Hermione's elapsed sigh on the other end.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry to call you so late; I'm just going to sleep now."

"Good."

"Bye, Ginny."

Ginny hung up.

Hermione frowned. She still wasn't entirely easygoing about it as she made herself sound to Ginny, but what could she do? She got changed and reluctantly crawled into bed, alone.

She dreamt of snakes again.