Ginny Weasley and the Heir of Slytherin

With a pounding heart and sweaty palms, Ginny stood up and began to walk anxiously towards famous Harry Potter. It seemed to take her forever to reach him -- like a distant coastline, he never appeared to get much closer. This was it -- the time when she would finally speak to him -- but it was not going to be at all the way she had wanted it to be.

In a way, it was funny how this had all started when Ginny ran away to prevent Harry from seeing her covered in blood next to Mrs. Norris' body and now she would be trying to end it all by actually telling him about that -- and more. It made her feel painfully aware that everything could have been avoided in that moment if she had just stayed put. At the very least, she wouldn't have had to deal with this all on her own. And it would have been so much easier to let Harry find out then than it was going to be to tell him now. That, she decided, was when she had ceased to be an innocent bystander in all this -- when she made her choice to keep it all to herself and could only continue to do so when the secret became bigger and more horrible.

Ginny sat down next to Ron. She took a few steadying breaths to try and calm herself down. She had to do this -- she just had to get the words out as quickly as she could and hope for the best.

"What's up?" asked Ron, obviously not realizing the importance of what she was about to say.

Ginny quickly glanced up and down the Gryffindor table. She wished that Ron and everyone except Harry would all just go away, but privacy was a luxury she couldn't afford anymore. If she had wanted to talk to someone in private about this, she should have talked to Hermione a long, long time ago. And how dreadfully ironic was it that there were many times in which she had not told Hermione because Harry was there? Harry whom she would be telling now.

"Spit it out," Ron told her suddenly. This wasn't as easy as it must have sounded to him, but she tried to do so. She formed her words carefully, knowing she wouldn't be able to take them back.

"I've got to tell you something," she mumbled, careful to not look at Harry as she felt a strange vacuum forming inside her chest. Would this truly be the moment she finally let another soul know her deepest, darkest secret?

"What is it?" asked Harry.

What should she say? There was so much to explain! Where should she start? With the Chamber of Secrets? The attacks? The diary? She still couldn't believe she was actually doing this. But she had to go on. She simply had to.

"What?" asked Ron when she didn't say anything.

Ginny would start with the diary. She would begin by admitting she had stolen it from Harry. It would be best to start small like that. She opened her mouth, but there seemed to be something wrong with her vocal cords. She couldn't do it -- she just couldn't. She had kept this secret for too long.

No, she would say it and that was that! She just had to speak a few words and then, for better or worse, it would all be over. She worded what she was going to say next very, very carefully and tried to keep herself calm. Harry would understand -- once he knew what she had been through, he would understand.

Maybe he would even like her a little, though she doubted it. Such things didn't really matter anymore anyway.

Harry leaned closer to her -- his brilliant green eyes were directly on her for the second time in her life.

"Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets?" he asked in a whisper so that only she and Ron could hear. "Have you seen something? Someone acting oddly?"

Harry had, of course, meant this encouragingly, but it just made Ginny feel even more guilty. However, it also made her feel that Harry was pretty smart -- her secret would be safe with him and he would know what to do. Maybe he wouldn't think much of her anymore, but he would certainly want to help her, especially once he saw how sorry she was. She took a deep breath and was just about to bring up Riddle's diary when --

"If you've finished eating, I'll take that seat, Ginny. I'm starving, I've only just come off patrol duty."

It was Percy. Ginny jumped to her feet and, after giving Percy what she hoped was a pleading look, ran off for Gryffindor Tower. She couldn't say what she needed to say in front of Percy -- not right under her strict prefect brother's unsympathetic eye. Her secret wouldn't be a secret long if he heard it.

"Miss Weasley!" Snape shouted after her. "No roaming the castle unaccompanied by a teacher! Ten points from Gryffindor!"

Ginny ignored him and he made no effort to stop her -- she supposed he had just wanted an excuse to take points from Gryffindor. But she didn't care about Gryffindor anymore. In fact, she didn't care about much of anything. She felt so frustrated! She had come so close to letting her secret out and it wasn't even her own guts that had failed her this time. For most of her journey up to the portrait of the Fat Lady, she was very angry at Percy even though he couldn't have possibly known what he was interrupting. She even started to irrationally think that maybe Percy had known all along just as she had thought and that he was planning to hand her in so he could become a hero.

By the time she reached her dormitory, Ginny's anger had faded. After all, if Percy had wanted to hand her in, he would have done it months ago. Feeling very sick inside, she allowed herself to collapse onto her bed. She pulled Tom Riddle's diary out and held it tightly in her hands -- the same hands that had opened the Chamber of Secrets. Her heart was racing, but she took the diary and brought it into her arms -- it had been awhile since she had last hugged it like that.

Please Tom, help me, she thought as tears welled up in her eyes. Harry, Hermione, Mum, Dad, anyone -- please help me!

Wiping her eyes, Ginny decided right then and there that she wasn't going to write in that diary ever again. She would show that Tom Riddle. He didn't own her, she owned him. He lived in her diary. She could destroy him -- he ought to be thanking her for letting him live. His life was in her hands. She didn't even need to destroy the diary to not write in it -- she could resist it all on her own.

Not that it would do much good now.

She looked down at the diary -- the little black book with the name "T. M. Riddle" written on it. This manipulative little book was the heart of all her grief. It was really a powerful and scary object, but it looked so plain and unassuming -- truly you could never judge a book by its cover. She opened it and flipped through the pages, thinking about the first time she had seen it. What she wouldn't give to have known back then what this diary really was. It was all so painful...

Ginny stared at the first page, which was pretty much the only page she had ever written on, and put her hand on it, wishing she could somehow pull all the ink back out of the page. She felt so hurt, miserable, hungry -- she hadn't eaten any breakfast -- and guilty. Without even thinking, she gently picked up her quill with her right hand and absent-mindedly dipped it in ink. She held the quill above the page with a shaking hand...

But she wasn't going to write in it. She had stopped writing in the diary forever just a few moments ago. In fact, the last time she had written to him was almost two days ago, so it actually hadn't started just now. Eventually, she thought angrily, Riddle would wither away and die without her. She would make him feel sorry for what he had done to her!

Apparently her hand didn't feel the same way because it began writing on the page almost as though it were a reflex. Old habits died hard, apparently.

"Tom!" her hand wrote. "They're going to be reviving all the Petrified people today and they'll find out I did it! Oh Tom, please help me! I don't want to be expelled!"

"Enter the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny."

Something inside Ginny's head snapped -- this didn't make any sense.

"What?" she wrote back.

"You will enter the Chamber of Secrets. I will take you there. Then we will end this all my way."

"So it was you all along!" she wrote in half-shock.

"Of course it was me, you foolish child! Your capacity for denial and self-delusion amazes me even after knowing you this long."

Ginny sat in stunned silence. Not only had Riddle just admitted to everything, he had never spoken to her in such a condescending way before. She now knew for certain that she ought to throw the diary aside, but something had come over her and she couldn't stop herself from writing back.

"Well, I'll hand you then!" she wrote furiously. "I don't even care if they expel me or send me to Azkaban anymore! At least you'll be destroyed!"

"No, Ginny Weasley, you had your chance. And you failed. Now you are mine!"

Suddenly she snapped upright, feeling a strange throbbing pain in her head. For some reason, she gently picked up the diary and held it to her chest.

She felt a great pain form inside of herself -- one that made her want to cry.

Her heart slowed down and then sped up again. Her skin was all prickly.

A great emptiness filled up inside her -- an emptiness so deep that it made her feel as though under the guise of her plain body was darkness so deep that it was beyond imagination.

She didn't even feel like she was Ginny Weasley anymore -- her Self was ebbing away -- fading into the dark emptiness that was consuming her. She seemed to be forgetting where she was and her eyes kept slipping in and out of focus. She tried to focus them and eventually decided that she would just lie down and sleep for awhile. Maybe she would feel better when she woke up.

That was when she realized she had absolutely no control over her body.

Ginny stood up, holding the diary under her arm, and walked -- with someone else's gait -- across the empty dormitory and towards the door. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't even blink. He had complete control over her.

This couldn't be happening. It wasn't happening. But couldn't this simply be Riddle taking her over again? But how could that be? Every time she had been possessed she hadn't remembered anything afterwards. But what if, when she regained control of herself again, she would forget all this? Her blood ran cold -- that would make it just like all the others times after all. Who would he make her attack this time? Then she realized that Kimmy was the only Muggle-born she knew who hadn't been attacked yet. And now she was probably about to become the first killing! Ginny would watch helplessly through her own eyes as she murdered her dorm mate!

As Ginny was walked down the girls' staircase and into the empty common room like a marionette, golden sunlight flooded in through the windows -- it was rather strange that she could be in such dire jeopardy while in such familiar surroundings. As she headed out the portrait hole and down stairways and corridors, she found herself desperately wishing she could at least cry. She couldn't have, of course, because her eyes were gone -- she now had someone else's eyes...

When Ginny stopped walking, she cleared his eyes -- which had replaced her eyes -- to see where she was. She saw she was standing right before the twelve words everyone in the school knew by now:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN

OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Ginny felt a strange sense of pride rise up in her as his twisted smile creased her lips. She walked towards the writing, feeling as though something very important was about to happen. He had been waiting for this for a long time and now it was finally here. Ginny, on the other hand, was panicking, but her Self was growing weaker...

She had to be mad now! And dangerous! She needed to be locked up somewhere and kept away from everybody else! She wanted to get caught now --

It was the only way --

He carefully opened the diary with her hands, causing her to feel a profusion of conflicting emotions all at once. Dark smears covered the pages and he dipped her fingers into it. It was the blood -- probably from the roosters she had killed. Now she knew why she had had the diary with her whenever she had killed roosters or written messages.

He wrote on the wall, with her filthy hand, a new message right below the old one.

Please, she though wildly. Let someone come. Let them find me and kill me -- it's the only way to stop him. Before I'm gone forever...

He then stepped her away from the wall so that he could admire his handiwork through her eyes.

HER SKELETON WILL LIE

IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER.

Who was "her"? Then it hit her -- it was herself. She would die in the Chamber of Secrets and remain there -- forever.

She walked past the fresh graffiti and into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. Everything was going exactly how it was supposed to. Soon she would be dead and that was what he wanted. When she stopped walking, she forced his eyes to slid back into focus, which took some effort, and saw her pale face in the bathroom mirror, but it didn't seem to be her -- maybe only a half or a quarter her, but not really her. Her eyes -- they were not her eyes --

They were his eyes.

His eyes grew hungrier and, using her mouth, he spoke. A strange hissing noise escaped her lips that would have made her hair stand up on end had she been in her normal state. It rang in her ears as she began to panic as she had never panicked before. The dark vacuum inside of her was growing and filling up more of her body -- there was less of her Self than ever. If she could have controlled herself, she would have run out into the corridor screaming and crying for help -- all dignity forgotten.

She watched the sink in front of her slid down into the ground, much the way she felt her heart sinking away, revealing a giant pipe that descended into darkness. She could still feel the cold emptiness inside her greedily consuming her body -- soon there would be nothing of her Self left and then she would be him. The void inside of her felt so empty that it made her feel as though underneath her skin there was nothing but deep blackness which was ultimately nothing.

She was nothing under the surface... but him.

Ginny felt herself jump down into the dark pipe. She was speeding downward and could hardly see anything, but she couldn't scream or even close her eyes. Eventually, she did the only thing she could -- she let her eyes slip back out of focus. What should she do now? There was no escape, so she couldn't try to think of one -- every second she got further and further away from all the teachers and adults who could help her. What were you supposed to think about in the last moments of your life?

Ginny forcefully hit the ground and found herself lying in a dark underground tunnel filled with the scattered bones of small animals. Feeling even more dead than they were, she found herself wishing she could remain lying there forever, but he got her up and purposefully walked her down the tunnel. She walked through the darkness, which her eyes had not yet adjusted to, feeling as though this was a route programmed into her. All was lost -- there was no point trying or even wishing now.

After what felt like hours of walking, she eventually reached a wall with stone snakes carved into it. They had glowing emerald eyes -- they were more alive than her -- than him. The strange hissing was again formed in his throat and came out her mouth. The wall opened, revealing a huge chamber -- the Chamber of Secrets. There was a statue of Salazar Slytherin at the other end of the room that went all the way up to the ceiling and along the side walls were snake-entwined pillars.

This was it -- they had been searching for this hidden chamber for a millennium and she got to see it -- in the final moments of her short life --

Her legs felt stiff by now, but he began walking her towards the statue of Slytherin as though to greet him. She heard the wall close behind her. She was locked in -- forever. She felt as though her fear was piling up inside of her and about to blow her up and pop her like a balloon. She felt as though the world was closing in on her and, in just a few moments, it would smash her to death. She stopped in front of the huge statue of Slytherin and looked up at his face.

Then something wonderful happened -- she felt an indescribable warmness fill up the dark emptiness inside of her. For just that one moment, she had an extremely strong feeling of relief and wholeness.

However, an instant later her body started shacking and a great terror swept through her. Her heart pounded and she found herself feeling small, jittery, and vulnerable. Her feet slipped, her legs entangled each other, and a high-pitched scream escaped her lips, echoing off the stone walls. Her hands instinctively went out to break her fall and she found herself in a heap on the cold Chamber floor.

Though she now had bruises all over her body, particularly her legs and hands, a smile broke out across her face -- this must mean she had regained control of herself. She tried to move her hand in front of her face and it worked. She had never really thought about how conveniently she could just will the parts of her body to move and they did as she wished. For a few moments, she sat on the floor marveling at how complex her hands were and at the many ways they could move.

After losing interest in her hands, Ginny looked up at the Chamber, heart still racing, as she thought about how trapped she was down there. She didn't even have her wand or anything else with her except the clothes she was wearing and Tom Riddle's diary. And where was his diary anyway? She shakily forced herself to her feet and turned to see it had landed open next to Salazar Slytherin's toes.

But she didn't get it. She would have been happy to leave the little black diary lying there for eternity -- why, she didn't know. It just seemed like an appropriate place for it.

Though she was locked alone deep underground in the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny realized things could have been far worse. She was tired and shivering with the cold, but she was safe and alive. In fact, she was probably the only thing in the whole place which wasn't made from cold, hard stone. But she didn't feel that lonely -- in fact, strangely enough, she felt a bit secure. No one could get her done there -- and she couldn't get anyone...

Ginny sat back down on the damp floor and looked around at the magnificent room which surrounded her. She was probably the first person to be in the Chamber for a long time and the first female to be in the Chamber ever. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself. The Chamber of Secrets was an odd sort of place, but impressive just the same. Even with magic, it must have taken a lot of work to build. Why did Salazar Slytherin go to all trouble of building such a majestic room if nobody but his Heir would ever get to see it? That seemed like a bit of a waste. Well, she was getting to see it anyway.

Ginny figured he went with the snake theme because the symbol for Slytherin House was a serpent. Or could it mean the monster was a snake? Since Slytherin had been a Parselmouth, that would explain how the Heir would be able to control it. Ginny couldn't think of any way she could protect herself if that monster snake came along. Or would it be nice to her, seeing how she had apparently set it on her classmates without ever even getting to remember seeing it? Of course, she couldn't stay down there forever anyway -- she would starve to death unless she froze to death first. Well, at least it was quiet so she could think. That was more than you could say for the Gryffindor common room in the afternoon.

Ginny tried to stand up again to assess her surroundings, but she didn't have the energy. She was sure she hadn't had that little energy when she had sat down and she had been resting, so she should have had more energy. She was also becoming considerably more aware of how cold it was and noticed she had started shivering like mad. Well, she could cope. She hugged her legs to her chest for warmth, but it helped very little.

But she just felt so tired. She wished there was somewhere comfortable for her to lie down even though she wouldn't have been able to move herself there. She was hungry -- she had no idea how long it had been since the breakfast she hadn't eaten -- and her head hurt badly. It was quite uncomfortable sitting on the hard Chamber floor, but she tried to concentrate on thinking of a way she could get out of this. If she ever did, she would definitely tell someone what was happening to her.

Then she noticed that the pages of Tom Riddle's diary were glowing as though there was some light source underneath them. At first she just thought it was just the way the light was hitting them, but it soon became quite evident that something was happening. As the pages glowed brighter, Ginny grew weaker and her heart beat faster and faster. She was getting colder and colder as though her life and the warmth it brought her was slowly draining out of her. When her body was as cold as the hard Chamber floor, she would surly be as dead as it was.

The way the pages were glowing gave Ginny a very bad feeling and she felt she needed to get as far away from them as possible. Still unable to stand, she crawled across the floor, occasionally glancing nervously back at the diary. But her knees kept slipping and she only managed to get a few paces away. But she couldn't give up. She had to get away before something awful happened, because she felt certain that something very, very awful was about to happen -- something she could never allow to happen.

But at the same time she felt that getting away from the diary would be pointless. There was a connection between her and it that could never be broken no matter how far from it she was. Suddenly, at exactly the moment Ginny felt a huge amount of energy leave her, there was a flash of light and a black-haired head began to slowly rise out of the diary.

Ginny instantly knew this was Tom Riddle. He greeted her with a cold, sharp laugh which didn't fit him at all. She didn't know what she had imagined he would look like, but his appearance was definitely a surprise. She had known he was older than her, but until now it never really struck her how old sixteen was compared to eleven. Come to think of it, he was the same age as Percy! And as shallow as it seemed, she couldn't help but observing that Riddle was quite handsome in a much-too-old-for-her kind of way -- she certainly hadn't expected that. Not that she had thought he would be ugly or anything.

She didn't know what was going to happen or what he would do to her, but she was sure it wouldn't be at all pleasant. She had to get out of there, but what was the point of moving when she wouldn't have been able to escape anyway? She slipped a final time and hit the ground with a small thud. Lying face down on the floor and unable to get up again, she could only turn herself around to watch in horror as Tom Riddle continued to rise out of her diary. She felt much too tired, hungry, and outright scared to think well, as hard as she tried to put it all from her mind.

I'm going to die, she thought in a sudden panic. I'll never grow up. I'll never have a decent conversation with Harry. I'll never get married and have children. I'll never show my brothers how good I am at flying. I'll never do anything ever again. It's all going to be over in a few moments...

She was all alone -- perfectly and completely alone. No one would get down there to save her -- ever. No one had for a thousand years, so what was the chance that someone would make it down there while she was still alive? Besides, the time that she would be alive seemed to be shrinking rapidly. She couldn't do anything about it and there was only one person who could save her -- Tom Riddle. She knew he wouldn't help her, but she had to try.

"Tom!" she cried out loudly. "P-please -- don't let me die..."

For all the notice he took, she might just as well have said nothing. She knew it was no use -- she was going to die. After all she had been through and all those years of waiting desperately to go to Hogwarts, she would die without even finishing her first year. There was no reason for her to hold her tears in any longer and so she started bawling. She wanted to be in her comfy four-poster bed with its warm scarlet bedding and deep soft pillow. Maybe if she closed her eyes tightly enough, she could convince herself that she was there and then she would die peacefully. But she really, really didn't want to die at all.

"P-please, I'll d-d-do anything!" she begged desperately. "I p-promise! Anything!"

But it was useless -- there was nothing he wanted from her but her life and she knew it.

"Ginny Weasley," Tom Riddle said suddenly in a voice which made her feel worthless, "it is fascinating to see that even now you retain your naïve faith in me. You see, you're going to die here and I'm not going to do anything about it."

"Please, Tom, p-p-please!" she shouted frantically, stretching her arm out towards the diary.

Tears were running profusely down her face, but Riddle just laughed at the sight of them as he stepped out of the diary. He was now fully formed though with a misty outline around himself. Ginny continued to cry, gasp for breath and sniff through her stuffy nose, occasionally uttering the word "please." He must not have been looking at her, because she must have looked so forlorn by now that no soul could have resisted grabbing her outstretched arm and helping her back to her feet.

Instead, he walked importantly towards her -- much like Percy did before punishing someone -- and stopped right before her. If her middle finger had been just a little longer, she could have just touched his foot. Ginny tried to make eye contact with him, but his eyes were beyond her line of vision. She was feeling so many painful emotions at once that she couldn't have identified even one of them. Her forehead felt like it was burning, but her blood seemed to have been replaced by ice water.

She wanted out. She wanted her life back, but knew it would never happen.

Never.

"I -- I l-loved you, Tom," she sobbed. "I r-r-really did! D-didn't you love me too? At -- at l-l-least a little?"

"No, not even a little," said Riddle, sounding actually proud of this. "You're a completely unremarkable child, Ginny Weasley. It's so sad how unique you think you and your problems are when in reality you're exactly like every other eleven-year-old girl. In fact, you did not interest me at all until the attacks began. It was quite entertaining watching your little brain struggle with the dilemma. A bit like smashing a fly with a sledgehammer, really."

Riddle's words cut into Ginny like a sharp dagger, hurting her far more than any insult which had ever been directed at her before -- and it was coming from the person she had poured her heart out to. So many times he had called her brave or smart or grown-up and all that time he had been laughing at her for eating it up, thinking she was the silly little girl her family thought she was! And the way she had handled this pretty much proved he was right!

Such was her situation that she could hardly even think about how hurt those words made her feel. She had lapsed into sobbing loudly, but she didn't care -- she just wanted to let her emotions out. There wasn't anything else left for her to do. Her eyes were so filled with tears that she could hardly see. She wasn't crying only for herself, but also for her family. They would be so sad and they would miss her so much. And they weren't even going to have a body to bury. She, however, wasn't sure whether or not she was happy that they wouldn't know the truth of how she had ended up like this.

"I did make one error," admitted Riddle while still sounding like he was gloating. "I knew you were becoming suspicious of me, but I underestimated it. Had I known, I would have confronted it directly as I did when you got the diary back. But that was a tiny aberration -- for the most part, you played easily and predictably into my plans -- in fact, it was almost tedious how easy it was. As convenient a vessel as you were, your death will be no great loss."

Ginny didn't have the energy to keep her eyes open and the dark stone bricks of the floor became covered in blackness. They would be the last thing she would ever see. Her life had been so short -- and it would end now. She was only eleven -- she was so, so not ready to die -- the permanency of it was too much to even think about. If she had known, for all those years she had thought and wondered about her future, that she wouldn't live to see her twelfth birthday...

How could he do this to her? She had known or at least strongly suspected for a long time that Riddle wasn't really her friend, but how could he be this callous after being so nice to her for so long? Her body felt weak and her clothes were sticking to her cold, lifeless skin, but she couldn't give up -- she had to keep trying -- where there was a will there was a way. She could still vaguely hear Riddle talking, but she only caught him saying her name a few times and the word "diary" once.

"Please..." she said in small voice, using up about a quarter of her remaining energy. It would be the last thing she ever said.

Breathing now seemed to take a lot of effort. She focused all her energy on breathing in and out. In and out. With each breath, she felt relieved to still be alive. Her body didn't feel very alive though -- more like an large immovable boulder except for her pounding heart. It was incredible that, perhaps less than five minutes ago, her body could have been moved around as easily as thinking. But as long as she could feel her damp clothes against her skin and the cold, hard floor on her body, she knew she was still alive.

Ginny wanted her parents or at least someone to just be with her even if nothing could be done. The person she would have wanted the most would have been her mother. True, her mother was overprotective and never let her do anything, but she was still her mother. Her mother had brought her into the world -- it would be fitting for her to be there when she left it. Ginny at least deserved the chance to say goodbye. Of course, she didn't have the energy to speak anymore, but at least she would just be with someone who loved her rather than someone who didn't love her at all.

Eventually what she had been fearing happened -- she breathed out, but not in afterwards. Her mouth couldn't open or close, her mind started to shut down and the fear spreading through her body increased. She would be dead in only a few seconds...

She was willing herself to remain alive for as long as possible. She could no longer feel her clothing, the floor, her skin or anything except her head, which she could numbly feel hurt a lot. She couldn't hear anything except her own painful thoughts. She was lost in a void, floating out of existence. She was losing the energy to even think. She was probably dead already.

She tried as hard as she could to think, I'm not going to die, I'm going to live, I'm going to get out of here, but it was no use. She couldn't feel her head now -- she didn't have a body anymore. She wasn't sure where she was or even who she was. She, whoever she was, had to stay alive. She couldn't remember why, but it seemed important. There was only one thought fixed in what remained of her mind, stay alive.

She felt like she was moving -- spinning. She wanted it to stop. She wanted to understand what was happening, but it took too much effort and it made her mind hurt. She was dizzy and wanted to reach out and feel something, but she didn't have a body to do it with. She was trapped somewhere -- inside her own body -- and she wanted out.

She was spinning, spinning, spinning, and then she was gone. Her skeleton would lie in the Chamber forever.