Ginny Weasley and the Heir of Slytherin

That night Ginny found it really, really hard to resist writing to Tom Riddle. Every night she wrote to Tom, telling him how her day went -- it made her feel like she wasn't going through it all alone. But now she did have to go through it all alone. The problem was that she was accustomed to writing to Tom until she got too tired to write properly and fell asleep, but not before making sure the diary was hidden where Fleeta Fleece wouldn't notice it. It had become Ginny's routine and she couldn't get to sleep without it. It was like she was under a spell -- and perhaps she was.

Nevertheless, Ginny had succeeded. She had spent most of the night lying wide-awake in bed, bored out of her mind and desperately yearning for the diary if only to give herself something to do. But she had not given in and that was a victory even if it meant she would now have to go to her classes that day with maybe a couple hours of sleep. And she would have to go through this the next night. And the night after that. Maybe it would get easier...

But was she really sure that Tom Riddle was the one was possessing her? She should really be completely sure before putting herself through this torture based on a guess. But it wasn't like she wasn't writing to him again at all -- she was just reducing it to when she thought she really needed him and that seemed a suitable precaution given the circumstances. After all, she couldn't think of anything else that might be causing this to happen to her -- at least nothing else she was doing.

But if she couldn't get to sleep without him and she would really rather not take her first year over again, wouldn't that count as a situation where she did need him? Ginny decided not, ignoring the blindingly bright sunlight hitting her tired eyes.

"Good morning, Ginny," said Percy brightly as she coasted dazedly across the common room. "You look tired -- did you not get a good night's sleep?"

"Yeah," Ginny answered honestly.

"Well, that's too bad," Percy told her. "But I think I can fix that." He gestured to Fred and George and they stepped forward, both looking quasi-contrite.

"Gin," said George, "we're sorry for jumping out at you everywhere." Ginny had so much on her mind that it took her a few seconds to figure out what he was talking about.

"Oh... thanks," she said eventually. Fred and George had never apologized for anything without being coerced, so this was clearly Percy's doing.

"I hope your nightmares will stop now," said Percy cheerfully.

"What nightmares?" asked Ginny. She had been having bad dreams since the attack on Mrs. Norris, which had only increased in frequency and unpleasantness since then, but she didn't recall telling anyone but Tom Riddle about them.

"A girl in your dormitory told me you were talking in your sleep," Percy explained. "She said it sounded like you were having nightmares."

"What girl?" asked Ginny.

"Uh, Miss Fleece, I believe."

"Fleeta Fleece," Ginny repeated in outrage. "That's who you're getting your information from! That girl's an absolute bitch!"

"Ginny, language!" Percy scolded. "What d'you think your mother would think if she were here? Do you think she would ever use a word like 'bitch'?"

"No," Ginny admitted.

* * *

Ginny had no idea how she managed her classes that day. She did have History of Magic, so she was able to make up at least some sleep then. As she headed to dinner, she encountered Fleeta Fleece standing in the entrance hall with a smug smile plastered on her face. Scowls and smug smiles seemed to be the only shapes Fleeta's mouth was capable of forming. She had clearly been waiting there for Ginny.

"They're starting a Dueling Club," said Fleeta in her usual haughty voice, pointing at the notice board. "You remember that that was my idea, right? I suggested it to Professor Lockhart yesterday and now it's actually happening -- all thanks to my important relationship with the good professor. I can't wait to see Professor Lockhart fight for my honor. Snape will never know what hit him. I only hope Professor Lockhart will mention my name so that the whole school will know who he did it for."

"Sod off," Ginny muttered as she walked into the Great Hall. She might have been able to come up with a cleverer retort had she not felt so tired.

This couldn't go on. For starters, not writing in the diary was really just a precaution -- she still needed to tell someone what was happening to her. After all, if it wasn't Tom Riddle who was behind this then she was putting herself through this for nothing.

Hermione was seated at the Gryffindor table talking to Harry and Ron about joining the Dueling Club. Ginny should have talked to her yesterday when she was alone in the library. But Ginny could always talk to her tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. Or the day after that. It was easy to see that Ginny could end up putting it off forever. Eventually, she would have to just bite the bezoar and do it. But not today -- not when Hermione was sitting right there with Harry.

As was now usual, Ginny made a token effort to eat, but was too depressed to really do any more than nibble a bit. She didn't seem to care about much of anything anymore. She hadn't thought about Harry for a long time now except for generally not wanting to be around him, mainly out of shame. Hufflepuff had managed a surprise victory over Ravenclaw in the latest Quidditch match and she could barely put forth the effort to care. But the part which really hurt her, enough to make her cry if she let herself think about it, was the fact that she did not even care that she was at Hogwarts. She had spent her entire life longing to be old enough for Hogwarts and now she was there and she was miserable. And it was her fault.

Learning how to duel was another thing that Ginny might have wanted to do had she not felt so terrible. But she did and she would much rather hide herself away in a dark corner than do something fun like that. Besides, if she was going to be Petrifying more people the last thing she needed was to be able to duel with them too. Thus Ginny decided that she would be going to bed early. There was no reason not to, really -- she wasn't attending the Dueling Club and she might as well take advantage of being sleepy enough to nod off without the diary.

Ginny fell asleep easily. Fleeta, eager for everyone to see Lockhart wipe the floor with Snape on her behalf, had persuaded Kimmy to join the Dueling Club as well. Since Lorelei Pasiphaë followed Kimmy around everywhere like a loyal puppy, this left Ginny with the dormitory to herself. And Ginny thought Kimmy should rightly go anyway, being Muggle-born and all.

* * *

Ginny woke up so early the next day that it was still dark out. Knowing that this would be the only time she could do her homework if she continued on this schedule, Ginny journeyed down to the common room to work on the Transfiguration essay McGonagall had assigned. At least it gave her something to do other than write in the diary. Perhaps, she thought gloomily, this schedule suited her. She was trying to keep herself away from other people and this way she would only encounter anyone else at meals and classes. She hated the idea of so completely isolating herself, but perhaps it would be for her own good. And everyone else's.

When the dawn came, it brought terrible news. It turned out the Dueling Club which Ginny had slept through had been a complete fiasco. Ginny wouldn't have even cared how the Dueling Club went if it weren't for the catastrophe that had occurred there -- a catastrophe quite apart from Lockhart and Snape's demonstration duel not going the way Fleeta imagined. Not to Ginny's great surprise, Snape had made a fool out of a Lockhart with a simple Disarming Charm, leaving Fleeta on the one hand angry Lockhart had failed her and on the other unwilling to admit she was wrong about him. It was a situation Ginny would have milked for all it was worth, it being the perfect chance for revenge against the girl who showered Ginny with rude comments about her being poor and ugly, but she threw away that golden opportunity. Because of the real catastrophe that had happened at the Dueling Club.

"The Malfoy boy conjured a snake while dueling with Harry Potter," Luna Lovegood, or "Loony" Lovegood as she was becoming known, told Ginny during breakfast in the Great Hall, "and Harry seemed to speak Parseltongue to it. Some people seem to think he's the Heir of Slytherin now, but they didn't consider Lockhart hit the snake with a mysterious spell first. Lockhart clearly used this spell to take control of Harry and the snake at once."

"You think Lockhart can do that?" asked Ginny, trying not to sound too derisive.

"Obviously," said Luna. "How else could he control the secret army of Wrackspurts he uses to make students' brains go fuzzy when they're around him? I do wonder why so many more girls than boys seem to be affected though."

Parseltongue was (unjustly, in Ginny's opinion) considered the mark of a Dark wizard and Salazar Slytherin's ability to speak to snakes was well known. It was already rumored that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin and this incident all but proved it. But as Ron had told Ginny earlier up in the common room, Harry hadn't even known he was a Parselmouth -- he had just been trying to keep the snake away from Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Muggle-born boy whom Ginny had seen around the castle a few times. Most of the school would never believe that, of course. They would believe that Harry had set the snake on Justin and would probably be Petrifying him shortly.

"Why if it isn't the Weasley girl and some werido friend of hers," drawled Draco Malfoy as he approached the scene. "Still in love with Potter now with everyone hating him?"

"Go away," said Ginny, meaning to make this sound less timid than it came out.

"Harry Potter's not really a Parselmouth," said Luna confidently. "Lockhart just possessed him. He's secretly working for the Ministry trying to get Dumbledore fired."

"Oh, right," laughed Malfoy. "Like the Ministry would appoint a spy as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to get rid of Dumbledore. I don't think they even need an excuse to throw out that old codger. Professor Snape should just replace him."

"Oh, and how would he do that?" asked Ginny. "Just kill Dumbledore and take over as headmaster?" Malfoy smirked.

"You and I both know that your saintly boyfriend could never be the Heir of Slytherin," he said, "but it sure looks that way, doesn't it? He and his friends were the first on the scene after Mrs. Norris was Petrified and now he's speaking Parseltongue. If you ask me, he'll be expelled in a week."

Not much later, Ginny stepped into her empty dormitory feeling so terrible that she wanted to cry. Harry could get expelled for what she'd done! Harry! That was almost worse than her being expelled. No, it was definitely worse since she was actually guilty. Well, a little guilty, but she was certainly a lot more guilty than Harry was. He was innocent and undefiled in a way which she was not -- at least not anymore.

Poor, poor Harry had been through so much; losing his parents, living with awful Muggles, facing You-Know-Who a second time and now this. He might even be feeling exactly the way Ginny had been except he didn't deserve it. She did, but he most certainly didn't and unlike her he also had to deal with the whole school knowing. The warm feelings which made her want to comfort Harry swiftly flowed into her for the first time in weeks, but now they were tainted by the knowledge that it was her fault he was in this position. And that she could stop it by just telling, but didn't.

Ginny could no longer allow this to go on. She couldn't put Harry -- her Harry -- through this. He didn't deserve it like she did. She wanted nothing more than to be held in his arms, crying into his shoulder while she confessed everything to him. Maybe he would feel sorry for her even though she had ruined his life. Okay, maybe she wasn't going to tell Harry, but she did decide for sure that she would be telling someone that very day -- whatever the cost, she would not put it off a single day longer. For better or worse, all this would finally be over for good by the time the sun set.

Still standing in the entrance to her dormitory, Ginny surveyed the room as she prepared to leave. It was still morning outside so she had plenty of time to work up the necessary courage. Her eyes rested on her bed where Tom Riddle's diary was hidden. Harry being a Parselmouth was clearly the kind of emergency situation which she had decided to reserve Tom for. But that didn't mean she had to write to him -- just that she could. And she didn't think that she would. She had gone over a full day without him and she was doing okay so far. And if after she told her secret it turned out that he wasn't causing this to happen to her then she could write to him all she wanted and without guilt.

Then the enormity of what Ginny was planning to do hit her. So many students hated Harry for supposedly being the Heir of Slytherin and Ginny would be putting herself in his place willingly. Tears formed in her eyes -- she didn't want everyone to hate her! But better her than Harry since she was at least the culprit -- against her will, of course, but Harry hadn't done anything at all. She took a deep breath and wiped her tears. This was going to be very, very hard for her, but she was determined and she was going to be brave -- as brave as she could be. She knew she had to do this.

Without even really consciously deciding to, Ginny began walking towards her bed. She would be writing to Tom just a little first. She didn't really need to, but she wanted to. Even with her suspicions that Tom was doing this to her, she couldn't help but feel really loved by him. And she really wanted to feel loved -- especially now seeing how she would probably be hated by the whole school very shortly. Tom loved her unconditionally and that was exactly the kind of love she needed right now.

Ginny pulled out the diary, climbed onto her bed and sat atop it with her knees bent upwards. She still had her shoes on, but that didn't matter -- she wouldn't be there very long anyway. After all, her first class of the day would be starting soon. She propped the diary up against her legs and took a quill resting on her bedside table.

"Tom, I'm going to do it," she wrote. "I've decided I'm going to tell them what's happening to me."

"Ginny, don't! They'll expel you and you'll never become a proper witch. You could end up living on the streets, alone and destitute. Oh please Ginny, I love you too much to bear the thought of you throwing your life away."

These words gave Ginny pause, but when she thought of everything Harry had been through they didn't change her mind. They did scare her a little, but oddly she found herself becoming a little excited knowing that the end of this nightmare was so near. And wasn't there at least a little hope that she wouldn't be expelled?

"I don't have a choice," she wrote back. "Harry spoke Parseltongue to a snake yesterday and now everyone thinks he's the Heir of Slytherin! If I don't say anything he might be expelled. I don't want Harry to get expelled!"

"That's very selfless of you, Ginny, but you must think about yourself. Think of the dreams you're throwing away. Think of how your family will take this."

"They would want me to tell," wrote Ginny, feeling more confident than ever that she was making the right choice. "And I'm sure they'll forgive me if they see how sorry I am."

"No, Ginny, you mustn't do that to yourself. I can't allow that to happen."

* * *

Ginny's reflection caught her eye, surprising her slightly. She looked her face over as though making sure everything was in place. There was her fiery hair -- slightly disheveled, but acceptable -- brown eyes, nose, mouth, ears, and all those annoying freckles. It was her, the young girl she had always been, but somehow it didn't look like her at all -- or at least not her as she remembered herself. The expression on her face was one of numbed shock and horror. Prior to the opening of the Chamber, her face had probably not formed such an expression once in her entire life.

Wait, where was she?

Reality smacked Ginny in the face faster than she could blink. She had lost her memory again! That meant someone must be attacked! Ginny hoped with all her heart that it wasn't Kimmy or Hermione. Or Penny -- that would be a good way to make Percy lose any qualms he might have about handing Ginny in. Ginny slowly realized that she was in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom of all places. It was an odd place -- she could even hear a strange bubbling sound coming from a locked stall as though a potion were brewing in there. And then Ginny noticed that her clothes were covered in snow and, once again, rooster feathers.

Ginny was so horrified that she couldn't have made a sound if she had wanted to. She had plainly been out in the show and the clothes she was wearing weren't exactly appropriate for the blizzard billowing outside the castle, so she had to think that she was lucky not to have frozen to death out there. Almost convulsively, she brushed the snow and feathers off herself. As she watched the scarlet feathers settle, she thought of what a pathetic attempt this was to brush the guilt off of herself. She had killed another one of Hagrid's roosters and brushing the evidence off herself wouldn't change that. Knowing that nothing more could be done, she walked hurriedly out of the bathroom.

She quickly headed far away from the horrible spot where this had all started, taking great care to not look at the writing on the wall. She felt worse as she came to remember how close she had come to ending this once and for all. Well, those plans were dead now -- she couldn't possibly tell her secret right after there had been another attack. In fact, she could never tell anyone now. This time she had known what she doing and that made her truly guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! Guilty as she would have been had she done it on purpose! She just hated herself...

Realizing she didn't have anywhere she planned to go, Ginny stopped in a hallway a good distance away from the bathroom. She was so scared, but had no idea what to do! She just stood there, thinking and shaking, when Professor Snape swept in through a doorway.

"There you are, Miss Weasley," he said snidely. "Thought you would be classy cutting your morning Potions class, did you? That's twenty points you've lost Gryffindor."

Ginny bowed her head in shame. Of course -- her Potions class had been about to start when she lost her memory so she had clearly ended up cutting it against her will -- such things hardly seemed to matter anymore. In fact, nothing really seemed to matter. Suddenly, Ginny looked up.

"Professor, has there been another attack?" she asked. Snape's lip curled and Ginny was sure he was about to take more points, but he didn't.

"I don't suppose it's any of your concern, but yes there has," he said. "Justin Finch-Fletchley has been Petrified and... something has been done to Nearly Headless Nick. They were found together on the fifth floor with Harry Potter standing over them. He's been sent up to Professor Dumbledore's office."

Clearly taking great pleasure in how much these words disturbed her, Snape strode away. Not only had there been an attack, there had been a double attack -- and somehow a ghost had been affected. And Harry had been discovered at the scene of the crime -- again -- and after it was known he could speak Parseltongue. He was going to be expelled -- Ginny knew it! Why else would he be sent up to Dumbledore's office? She had never even heard of anyone being sent to the headmaster's office before or even a clue as to where it might be located.

And that was when Ginny had an epiphany. Every single time she had lost her memory the last thing she could remember was writing in Tom Riddle's diary! The first time she had only ended up partway down the stairs from her dormitory -- Ginny supposed that was the result of Tom Riddle trying to take control of her before he was strong enough -- but every other time there had been an attack. There could be no doubt now that Tom Riddle was behind this. But why would he do this to her? Didn't he like being her friend? It was really, really difficult for Ginny to consider the possibility that their friendship was a lie -- it just couldn't be.

But it probably was.

Feeling worse than ever, Ginny set off for Gryffindor Tower. She was probably supposed to be in some class right now, but she couldn't even be bothered remembering what it might be. Besides, she had probably just thrown away any hope she had that she wasn't going to be expelled. What was the point of going to classes if she was going to end up getting expelled anyway?

Once she was in her dormitory, Ginny found that Tom Riddle's diary had once again ended up on her person -- just as it had the time Mrs. Norris was attacked and probably the time before that as well. She did know the diary couldn't have been with her the time she attacked Colin as she had only been wearing her nightdress and it didn't have any pockets, but that seemed like a small consolation.

Ginny angrily threw the diary onto her bed. Why had it not occurred to her earlier that Tom Riddle might be doing this to her? So many clues had been there and she had completely missed them all! How could she have been so incredibly stupid?

Yet even as she was thinking this, Ginny's arms were just aching to wrap themselves tightly around Tom's diary. In spite of everything, she still loved him! That made no sense at all. What kind of twisted irony was it that she was yearning to be consoled by the person who had caused her the very hurt she wanted him to alleviate? And who would hurt her again if she gave in.

In a moment of surprising clarity, Ginny realized what she must do. It was simple and obvious -- she had to never, ever write in that horrid book ever again! That was her ticket to freedom and it would save the remaining Muggle-borns in the school. But it wouldn't save Harry -- he was probably expelled already and about to spend the rest of his life with his horrible Muggle relatives. She had failed to do the right thing and now it was too late. What would be the point of not writing in the diary now? What was the point of anything anymore?

Ginny kicked her shoes off, climbed into her bed and began to write to Tom about what had just happened to her.