For Your Love

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all have a safe and Happy Holiday.

* * *

Chapter 21 - Secrets

An owl fluttered in through the Burrow's kitchen window on the last morning of holiday break as everyone was finishing breakfast and preparing for the ride to King's Cross Station. Ron wiped the toast crumbs from his hands and took the note from the bird's leg.

Harry, Ron & Ginny,

Professor Dumbledore has asked Malfoy and me to come back to school early today. He says he has something important to brief us on before all the students return from holiday. I'm getting ready to Floo to Hogwarts now, so this is just a quick note to let you know I won't be on the train.

Ron, could you please let all the other prefects know? Just make a couple of rounds during the trip and see that everything is under control (and don't make Ginny do all the work while you sit and eat Chocolate Frogs either). I don't know what this is all about, but I'll fill you in as soon as I can.

Bye!

Hermione

Ron frowned and passed the note to Harry, who scanned it quickly. "Wonder what that's all about?" he asked. Ron shrugged and put his dishes in the sink as Ginny came bumping down the stairs with her trunk, followed closely by Charlie.

"So, you're going to owl me every week," he was saying.

"Doubtful," Ginny replied calmly.

"And you're going to let Harry and Ron know if things get any worse," he continued.

"And you're going to stop harassing me," she volleyed back.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Charlie pulled his sister into a bear hug. "And you know I love you, right?"

"Yes," Ginny smiled, hugging him back.

"Don't be scared," he whispered in her ear.

"I'm not."

Charlie pulled back and gave her a soft smile. "Yes, you are, but that's good. I'd be worried if you weren't."

Mrs. Weasley bustled in from the living room. "Alright everyone, we're ready to Floo. Ginny, you first please. Your father is waiting for you at the Leaky Cauldron, and then he'll help you get a taxi to the train station."

While Ginny dragged her trunk to the fireplace, Charlie pulled Harry and Ron aside.

"Keep in touch with me; I want to know how she's doing," he said in low tones. "She may tell you she's fine, but you've got to keep a close watch on her. There's no telling what Riddle might try and make her do."

They nodded and promised to owl him with any news, good or bad.

* * *

"Right," said Ron a few hours later once they were settled into an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express. "Ginny, I think one of us should stay with you at night. And since we can't come to your room, you should sleep in ours."

Harry and Ginny blinked and stared at him, wide-eyed. "Ron, she can't sleep in our room," Harry said reasonably.

"The common room then. We can take turns," Ron said.

"That might work," Harry answered, considering the options.

Ginny snorted and raised her finger at them. "Listen, I don't know what Charlie said to you two, but I will not allow you to hover over me every waking - or sleeping - second. I didn't even want you to know in the first place," she hissed, pointing at Ron. "I wish Charlie'd never told you."

"Why not?" he asked angrily.

"Why do you think? You overgrown, overbearing, overprotective git!" she growled.

"Ginny," Harry said forcefully, "we're just trying to..."

"I know, Harry," Ginny said, bringing her voice under control. "But you can protect me without imprisoning me. Just be here for me when I need you, alright?"

Harry exchanged a dubious look with Ron and clenched his jaw.

"We should tell Hermione," Ron said. "She might have some ideas."

"I don't know..." Ginny frowned skeptically. "She's already got her hands full enough."

"Ginny, you said you wanted help," Harry challenged. "We might be able to protect you physically," he said, gesturing between Ron and himself, "but Hermione could actually find a way to get rid of him once and for all. You know she wouldn't stop until she found a spell or potion or something. Unless you want to take this to Dumbledore..."

"No!" she spoke, surprising herself at the forcefulness of her tone.

"But why?" Ron asked. "Dumbledore probably knows Riddle better than anyone; he could get rid of him in a snap," he said, snapping his fingers.

"Exactly," she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest and causing them to wrinkle their eyebrows at her. "Don't you think that if Dumbledore knew about this, he'd alert the whole Order to it?"

"Not necessarily," Harry frowned. "He might just handle it on his own."

"No, he wouldn't." Ginny shook her head. "At the very least he would tell McGonagall since she's my head of house. And probably Snape as well because of his connection to Voldemort. Dumbledore still trusts him."

"And if Snape knows..." Ron began.

"He'll go right to Voldemort with the information," Harry finished for him.

Ginny nodded. "Harry," she said, turning a pleading look on him. "You know what it's like to be a target for Voldemort. And I hate that, I hate that you have to live like that. But if he gets even a hint that Tom Riddle is alive inside of me..."

"He'll come after you," Harry said gravely.

"I don't even want to think about what would happen if they joined forces," Ginny said, her face paling.

"So," Ron said with a heavy sigh. "We don't tell Dumbledore."

Ginny shook her head and Harry, after thinking about it for a moment, agreed. Ginny breathed an inward sigh of relief. Not only because she had convinced them to keep the knowledge of Riddle's existence between themselves, but because they were right. Dumbledore was certainly her best chance of getting rid of Tom with minimal damage to herself, but she didn't want Tom to go away in a snap. She had lived with this burden for far too long, and become too invested in it, for it to be ripped from her so easily. She wanted to show Tom what she was made of; she wanted to make him suffer like he had made her suffer. She had already let Dumbledore down once when she'd opened the Chamber of Secrets, but this time, she would show him that she was just as capable of fighting the forces of evil as anyone.

"But what about Hermione?" Ron asked, interrupting her thoughts. "She could still help."

Ginny chewed her lip, thinking. "Hermione would be alright, but let me tell her. I'll tell her tomorrow. But only her; I don't want to go putting everyone into a panic," she said sternly, looking back and forth between them. "Alright?"

The boys hesitated, then acquiesced with a nod.

"Thank you," she exhaled. The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes before Ginny started to shift uncomfortably in her seat. "Didn't Hermione tell you to do some rounds?" she asked Ron.

"Oh yeah," he said, exhaling. "I forgot."

"Let me do it," she said, jumping up. "I need some air."

Ron shrugged. "As long as you don't tell Hermione I made you do it."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I won't," she said and slid the door closed, leaving Harry and Ron to stare after her.

"I don't like this," Ron said through clenched teeth. "I can't believe she's kept this a secret all this time."

"She's so stubborn," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Harry, she almost died in that chamber," Ron whispered, his voice unsteady. "And I didn't even know anything was wrong until it was almost too late. She was only eleven..."

Harry looked at his friend and suddenly realized how deeply the news of Tom Riddle's return was affecting him. It was sometimes easy to forget that even though Ron hadn't been in the actual Chamber with Harry, that night had been one of the most harrowing of his life as well. "Ron, that wasn't your fault; none of us knew. But now we do, and I'm not going to let anything happen to her. I promise."

"I know," he nodded, his face creased with worry. "Anyway, Hermione will figure out something, right? She always does."

Harry nodded and they fell into silence as the train rushed on.

* * *

Late that night, Ginny pulled the hood of her cloak over her head as she tiptoed through the darkened Gryffindor common room. She had rushed up to her room when they'd arrived at school, pleading a headache and not wanting to run into Hermione just yet. Now, she emerged from behind a tapestry and into the Entrance Hall, her heart beating loudly as she hurried down the steps to the front lawn and around the corner of the castle. Continuing along the dark shadows near the wall, she came to a stairwell that descended into the ground, leading to the underground boat dock where first-year students traditionally arrived from their journey across the lake. A small stone portico with a gated door guarded its entrance.

She pointed her wand at the latch and spoke the spell that Tom had taught her to release the magically reinforced lock. "Aperiomora Colligar," she whispered, the latch glowing bright for a moment as the spell was released. Looking over her shoulder, she descended the steps quickly and quietly, her wand lighting the way as she curved downward through the stone walls until she reached the rocky ground at the bottom.

A small fleet of boats was tethered together in a row, bobbing gently on the surface of the water. Untying one, she climbed aboard, rocking it slightly as she settled herself. Her lips tightened and she turned to look at the stairs once more, her only means of escape now. But instead of retreating, she pointed her wand at the bow. "Forward," she spoke, and soon she was gliding over the water, through the ivy curtain at the cave entrance, and across the lake.

Once she was gone, the torches on the wall of the underground harbor extinguished themselves. All but one, which burned brighter than the other flames; its light had a pale hue, almost white.

"Finite Purlonius," a voice spoke into the emptiness, and the flame torch dissolved into a whitish-blonde head and tall, thin body. Draco frowned. He had told her to be more careful and had thought that surely by this time, Ginny Weasley would know better than to continue playing with fire. Apparently, he was wrong.

* * *

Ginny's eyes darted left and right, as if she expected to see another boat pursuing her, but the lake was empty. After several minutes of riding silently through the chilly night, the boat ran aground on the eastern shore, just beyond the wrought-iron fence glimmering coldly in the moonlight that served as the official boundary of the Hogwarts grounds. Tom had lured her out of the castle before: first to the cliffs; then down the rocky steps to the shore; then into the boat launch and for short trips out on the lake, but never as far as the opposite shore.

Not knowing where she was heading, but feeling led from somewhere within herself, she struck off through the trees and up an embankment. Her bones were beginning to ache from the cold when she suddenly came upon a large, black hole in the face of the hill. Edging toward it, she came to the mouth of a cave and peered inside. She hesitated; it was blacker than night.

"It won't bite, you know." Tom's voice slithered mockingly into her consciousness, goading her. Her heart beat wildly, but she refused to succumb to fear. Raising her chin, she walked into the blackness and stopped a few yards inside the doorway.

"What is this place?" she questioned aloud, her voice shaky in spite of her efforts to keep it calm. "Why have you brought me here?"

"Lumos," he murmured to her.

"Lumos," she replied, the tip of her wand flaring to life. She was standing in a medium-sized earthen room. About the same size as the common room, she thought, but there was nothing to be seen but bare walls and a hard packed dirt floor scattered with leaves. She frowned, perplexed.

"But there's nothing here," she said, inexplicably disappointed. For surely, "nothing" was better than whatever horrors she'd imagined that Tom had in store for her.

A warm breeze stirred the back of her hair and sent goosebumps across her flesh. And then the breeze spoke.

"I wouldn't say nothing," it said, close to her ear, causing her to shudder with the realization that it was not a breeze. It was a breath.

Ginny turned around quickly, bringing her wand up in front of her to illuminate the face of Tom Riddle himself. She recoiled inwardly, facing the familiar image of a dark-haired, sixteen-year-old boy whose eyes bore into her and whose triumphant sneer brought back the horrors of the first time she had seen him, five years before.

"You," she whispered her heart in her throat. "How did you..."

"That's hardly the way to greet an old friend, Ginny," Tom spoke, cocking his head to the side in mock consternation. "After all, it has been so long since we've seen each other."

Her eyes lit up in surprise as she recalled the last time she'd seen his physical form, through half-lidded eyes as she had lain on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, near death.

"But," she began breathlessly, "how are you standing here?" Her thoughts jumped from one conclusion to another inside her head. In the Chamber, he had used her strength to take form, but she was not weakened by their encounter this time. It must be something else; he was using something else to give him power. Her eyes darted around in the darkness. "Is it something to do with this cave? Have you cast some kind of spell around it?"

Tom tutted. "So many questions. And here I thought you'd be happy to see me."

Her eyes snapped back to his and she raised her eyebrows. "And why would you think that?"

"Well," he said smoothly, "you and I made quite a pair once upon a time, didn't we? I remember you once told me that no one knew you like I did. No one understood you like I did. Do you remember? I'm still the only one," he said, lowering his voice. "Unless, of course, you've found someone else in whom you can confide your deepest, darkest secrets? Someone who will indulge your wildest dreams?"

Ginny hesitated.

"No?" he asked. "I thought not. Come, let us be friends once again. Together we can accomplish great things, you know."

"No," she said in a quavering voice. "I'm stronger now; I won't let you take me in with your lies anymore. You may be standing in front of me, but you couldn't use my strength to do it, so you had to find some other way. Admit it, Tom, you don't control me and you can't make me do anything I don't want to do."

"And what is it that you want, Ginevra?" he asked, regarding her with amusement. "You say you are in control, and yet here you are. Don't tell me that it was your intention to sneak out of Dumbledore's castle and sail halfway across the Black Lake to an empty cave," he smirked. "If it was, I underestimated you. But we both know that it wasn't."

Her confidence faltered, and he seized on her uncertainty. "If you are so strong, then why is it that one kiss can drive you to your knees? Why is it that Harry Potter had to carry you to that insipid little house of yours?" he hissed, his rage rising. "Do you really think that he can save you again? Are you so blind that you think I will let him slip through my fingers a second time?"

A cold fury swept through Ginny, giving her strength, and when she spoke, her voice was deadly calm. "Do you really think I'm going to give you the chance to get anywhere near him?"

"Oh, my sweet Ginevra," Tom said, his tone threatening. "If only you understood the truth of the one who stands before you, then you would see that it is only by my grace that you do not cower on your knees before me."

"Or maybe you're just a figment of my imagination," she replied.

He stretched out his hand and ran a cold finger across her cheek, sending a wave of nausea through her. "I assure you, I am not."

"Let me go," she said, trembling.

He lingered for a moment more before backing away. "For now," he said, and Ginny turned and strode quickly out of the cave, stumbling blindly down the hill to the boat, leaving the image of Tom to evaporate into mist.

* * *

Hermione came downstairs the next morning to find Harry and Ron already dressed and sitting in the common room, much to her surprise. She had missed riding with them on the train the previous day and was eager to see them - even Ron, whom she had thought a lot of over Christmas break and how they might go about becoming friends again. She hoped he had been thinking about it, too.

"Hello!" she said, smiling at them, though they seemed a bit preoccupied as they stared expectantly at the girls' staircase.

Harry looked up and smiled. "Hi," he said as she sat on the window seat next to him.

"How was your Christmas?" she asked.

He glanced at her and then turned back to the staircase. "It was..." he began.

"Eventful," Ron finished for him.

"Really?" Hermione asked, intrigued. "Why? And who are you waiting for? You've got your eyes trained on those stairs like the Chudley Canons are about to whiz down them at any second."

Both boys turned an incredulous look on her.

"What?" she asked. "I can make a Quidditch reference as well as the next person," she said defensively. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Hey, what was all that business with Dumbledore yesterday?" Harry asked quietly.

Hermione shifted in her seat and leaned in close to him. "There was an attempted breach of the school grounds over the holiday," she said in low tones.

"What kind of breach?" Harry wanted to know.

"Dumbledore said that several of the wards at different points along the border of the grounds were set off two days ago. But none of them were actually compromised. He thinks that someone may have been testing them, bouncing spells off of them to see if there were any weak points."

"Voldemort?" Harry asked in alarm, but Hermione shook her head.

"He's not sure, but he's not ruling it out. He doesn't want to create a panic, but we're to alert the prefects about what has happened so that they can be on their guard for any suspicious activity. There will be no more Hogsmeade visits for the immediate future. And of course, the teachers have all been alerted as well."

Harry checked the girls' stairs briefly, and then turned back to Hermione. "How did Malfoy seem when you left the office? Did he seem like he knew anything about it?"

"Well, it was strange actually," she said. "When we were finished, Dumbledore dismissed me, but he asked Malfoy to stay. I got sort of a funny feeling about it."

Harry was about to ask why when suddenly, Ginny appeared at the bottom of the stairs and Ron elbowed him in the side. "There she is," he said, jumping up and striding toward her.

"What's going on?" Hermione inquired.

"Have you talked to Ginny yet since we got back?" Harry asked, refocusing his attention on the task at hand.

"No, why?"

"Make sure you talk to her today," he said, and stood up.

"Why?" she asked, standing quickly beside him.

"Just make sure you do." Harry strode toward Ron and Ginny, leaving Hermione with a perplexed frown on her face as she hurried after them down to breakfast.

* * *

"Did she tell you?" Ron asked bluntly, seating himself across from Hermione in the library later that evening.

Glancing up from her reading, she replied, "Hello to you, too."

"Hermione..." he began.

"Yes, she told me," Hermione whispered. "But she didn't want to," she added with a touch of bitterness.

"What do you think?"

"I think if she had come to me months ago when this first started rather than now, it would be a lot easier to solve." Hermione scribbled some notes on her parchment and continued reading intently while Ron stared at her with impatience.

"What do you really think?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet," she said, turning the page.

"Did Ginny tell her?" Harry asked, arriving at their table and dropping into the seat beside Ron, who nodded.

"Well?" Harry asked.

"She's thinking," Ron said with barely contained annoyance.

"Hermione, I was wondering," Harry said urgently, "what about the Angelica Healing Draught that we learned in Potions last term? It's supposed to reverse the effects of the Possession Curse. Could that work?"

"I thought of that," she said, putting her quill down and looking up at Harry. "I'm not sure if it would work, but it's certainly worth a try."

"It reverses the Possession Curse?" Ron asked, visibly relieved. "Well, that's all we need then, right?"

"Well, I don't know," Hermione hedged. "Because I'm not convinced that what's happened to Ginny is the result of a Possession Curse."

Ron looked incredulous. "What do you mean?" he said loudly. "He's obviously possessing her. What else would you call it?"

"Ron, keep your voice down!" Hermione whispered back. She exchanged a look with Harry and took a deep breath. "The Possession Curse doesn't just allow another entity's spirit to take over a person's body; it causes them to lose the ability to control their own actions."

"Yeah, we know. That's what happened to Ginny before with the Chamber," Ron said impatiently.

"But that's not what's happening to her now," Hermione reminded him. "From what she's told me, she loses track of time occasionally, but she is still in control of herself. Riddle hasn't made her do anything that she doesn't remember afterwards. When he was possessing her through the diary, there were long periods of time when he acted through her and she had no knowledge of what she was doing.

"I think that when Harry destroyed the diary, whatever part of his soul that was left in her infused itself with hers somehow. Now that he's been reawakened, he experiences everything she does, all her thoughts and feelings; they're an open book to him. But I've never known of a case where a possessing spirit had such a sympathetic relationship with its host."

"I'd hardly call him sympathetic," Ron mumbled.

"No," Hermione explained. "I mean sympathetic in the sense that they have formed a relationship where whatever affects one affects the other, and vice versa. When he possessed her through the diary, he was a separate entity. But now, it's like... it's like they're one being."

Harry and Ron both fell silent, thinking.

"Will it hurt her if she takes the Angelica Potion anyway?" Harry asked.

Hermione frowned. "It could cause her some pain if their link is broken, if Tom's spirit is forced out of her, but I don't think it would be life threatening. On the other hand, it might not even affect her at all. The Angelica Potion is designed to allow the host's consciousness to become strong enough that it can regain control of itself and push the spirit out. That doesn't seem to be a problem with Ginny, but right now, I'm not sure we have any other options." She fixed Harry with a shrewd stare. "You're not thinking of breaking into Snape's storeroom and stealing it, are you?"

"What other choice do we have?" Harry asked. "It takes a month to brew. Besides, I'd only be taking the potion Ellie and I made ourselves, so technically, it's mine."

"I doubt Professor Snape would agree with you," she said.

"Who cares what Snape thinks? Get your cloak, get the potion, and get out. It's not like we haven't done it before," Ron reasoned.

Harry nodded, his mind made up. "I'll do it tonight."

"Harry," Hermione cautioned, "it's not as simple as just giving her this potion."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When I said that Ginny and Tom have a sympathetic relationship, I meant it. Everything that Ginny does, everything that she talks about or even thinks about, he knows. You cannot let her know what this potion is. If Tom thinks that she is trying to get rid of him, he may do something drastic. He is already aware that the three of us know about his existence now. But the less information we feed Ginny about what we're planning, the safer she will be."

Harry took a moment to absorb this new knowledge and nodded gravely. He stood up. "I'll see you later," he said, leaving them to stare after him.

"Hermione," Ron said softly, and she turned to look at him. "If this doesn't work, what are we..."

She reached across the table and grasped his hand tightly in hers. "If this doesn't work, we'll keep looking and trying until something does work." She looked intently at him and his blue eyes looked back at her. Hermione felt a remnant of the old spark they had once shared, but he soon broke the contact and withdrew his hand from hers.

"What can I do?" he asked, his voice a little rough.

Hermione shuffled through the stack of books she had gotten from the shelves. "Here, look through this one for any mention of disembodied spirits."

Ron took the heavy book from her and opened it to the front page, scanning it intently. More intently than Hermione had ever seen him do before on the many occasions he had helped her with research. She watched him thoughtfully for a few moments before returning to her own reading.

* * *

Harry bounded up the stairs to his dormitory. It was getting dark now; soon the halls would be clear and he could slip down to the dungeons and retrieve the Angelica Potion. He hadn't seen Ginny since dinner and wondered where she might be. As he passed the sixth year boys' room on his way to the top of Gryffindor tower, he noticed that the door was open and saw Colin sitting on the edge of his bed, his head and shoulders bent low.

"Hey, Colin," Harry said, pausing breathlessly in the doorway. "Have you seen Ginny tonight?"

Colin looked up. His face showed a trace of surprise at the sight of Harry, then hardened again. He gave a little snort of disbelief and shook his head. "Yeah, I've seen her."

Harry became concerned at the tone of his voice. "Where is she? Is she alright?" he asked.

"I wouldn't really know," Colin said dejectedly. "She... um... we're not together anymore."

Harry felt a little jolt in his stomach. "What?"

"She told me that she felt trapped," Colin said, looking up at Harry with an accusing glare, "that someone else was preventing her from being with me. Well, you can have her now."

Harry felt shocked and indignant at Colin's implication. "What do you mean I can have her?"

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" Colin said. "I know she's been sneaking off to see you at night."

Harry exhaled and rolled his eyes. "Colin, that's the stupidest thing you've ever said. And that includes when you were a first year! Of course we haven't been meeting at night. Ginny would never do that to you. I would never do that to you. We're just friends."

"Is that right," Colin said bitterly. "She told me you kissed her."

Harry was momentarily silenced, and the pause was enough to confirm Colin's suspicions. "Colin, she had nothing to do with that," Harry explained quickly, stepping farther into the room. "It was entirely my fault. I was stupid, I was lonely, and I needed her. I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry."

Colin shrugged. "It's a bit late now."

Harry turned to go, sensing that Colin wanted to be alone, when suddenly he stopped. "Did she tell you anything else about that night? You know, the night that I... kissed her?"

Colin gave a hollow laugh. "Why, are there more details you'd like to share? Because I really don't need to hear them."

"No, I just... No. Sorry."

"Harry?" Colin called, and Harry paused in the doorway. "You know what's going on with her, don't you. All the times she disappeared and made excuses, I tried so hard to get her to tell me what was going on. But she told you, didn't she."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he said the only thing he could. "I'm sorry, Colin. I really am."

* * *

Other than a close encounter with Mrs. Norris in the Entrance Hall, Harry had no problems slipping down to the dungeons, concealed by his cloak, to retrieve his and Ellie's Angelica Potion from Snape's storeroom. He carried the small vial beneath his robes as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. Luckily, Ginny was already sitting with Ron and Hermione, now that she and Colin were no longer an item.

"I never liked him anyway," Ron was saying in a brotherly attempt to soothe what he assumed was his sister's broken heart.

"Ron," Hermione chastised, motioning for him to stop talking.

"Really, you two," Ginny said wearily. "You don't have to walk on eggshells. I'm fine."

Harry slipped into the seat next to Ginny. Ron and Hermione turned to him with raised eyebrows, and he answered with a silent nod.

Ginny glanced nervously at Harry and managed a smile. "Hi," she said.

"Hi," he returned. They hadn't had a chance to talk about the kiss they had shared at the Burrow. Not that there was much to say, but now that Colin was not an obstacle, it seemed to Harry that maybe they should talk about it. Though at the moment, there were other, more pressing matters to deal with.

Hermione cleared her throat to get Harry's attention and pointed covertly to Ginny's glass of pumpkin juice. Harry's eyes shifted to Ron, then back to Hermione, wondering if it was wise to slip Ginny this potion in the middle of the Great Hall, not knowing how it would affect her. On the other hand, this was the most inconspicuous place to get her to take a drink without suspecting anything. If it came to it, they could just rush her to the hospital wing and claim she had become ill, though he fervently hoped that would not be the case.

"Now?" he mouthed to Hermione. She gave a slight nod while Ron focused his attention on Ginny.

"You know, Gin," Ron stalled, "you should eat some more. It'll make you feel better. How about some kippers?" he asked, gesturing down the table to the platter full of tiny fish.

"No thanks," Ginny replied with a shake of her head.

"No, really," Ron pressed. "You know what mum always says, 'A full stomach will banish those grumps away.'"

"She doesn't say that," Ginny frowned as Ron heaped a spoonful of kippers onto her plate.

"Well, she thinks it," he replied. "C'mon, Gin. Just eat one."

While Ron cajoled her, Harry held his own glass of pumpkin juice down low by his side and poured the contents of the vial into it, watching the juice take on a slightly reddish hue. He swirled it around and set it down by his plate when Hermione dramatically dropped her fork on the other side of the table.

"Oh," she sighed. "Ginny, can you reach my fork? I've dropped it; I think it's by your foot."

Ginny leaned down to look under the table and rummaged around by her feet while Harry quickly switched his glass with hers.

"Thanks," Hermione said, retrieving the fork from Ginny and wiping it on her napkin.

"You're welcome," she said, then started to gather her things. "Well, I'm off. See you lot later."

"Ginny, wait!" Harry said loudly. She turned to him with a perplexed look. "You didn't finish your pumpkin juice," he said, holding the glass out to her. "Don't want it to go to waste."

Ginny rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly. "Fine," she said, taking the glass and swiftly downing its contents, setting it back on the table with a sharp rap. "There. Anything else you'd like me to eat before I go?" The three of them looked at her expectantly, but said nothing. "Right then."

They waited until she had taken a few steps and exchanged nervous glances with each other before springing up from the table and following her into the Entrance Hall, keeping a keen eye out for any reaction to the potion. Ginny was halfway up the marble staircase when she suddenly stopped, turned around, and charged back down the stairs toward them with a glint of something not-quite-right in her eye.

"What did you do?" she hissed, making a beeline for Harry and ignoring the other two.

"What do you mean?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "We're just heading to class."

Ginny's eyes narrowed and flicked left and right to Ron and Hermione standing on either side of Harry. They watched as a change came over her countenance, as if her eyes had been replaced with other, more discerning ones, and her jaw hardened in anger.

"Don't you think I know when someone is trying to deceive me?" she asked in a voice not quite her own. "I will not be summoned and discarded like some child's toy that is no longer wanted."

A sweat began to break out on Ginny's forehead as she locked eyes with Harry, but he forced himself to remain calm. He could not let Tom think that he was correct in his assumptions. "Ginny, what's wrong?" he asked, adopting a tone of friendly concern. "You were fine at breakfast just now; do you feel alright?"

"Yeah, maybe those kippers just didn't agree with you, Gin," Ron said carefully. "I thought they tasted a bit dodgy myself."

The light in Ginny's eyes turned from one of righteous indignation to confusion, and Hermione stepped forward and put her hand gently on the other girl's arm. "Ginny, would you like me to walk up to Madam Pomfrey with you?"

"No, no I'll be alright," she said, shaking free of Hermione's hand, but a look of fear crossed her face, and she stared at Harry again for a long moment before turning and heading up the stairs once more.

"That was too close, Hermione," Harry said under his breath.

"No one said this was going to be easy," Hermione breathed, squeezing Harry's arm. "Now we know what we're up against. But, Harry, you cannot let her know what we're doing. It will only put her in greater danger," she said with urgency.

"I know," he said, his throat becoming tight as he watched her walk up the stairs and out of sight, wishing he didn't feel so helpless.

* * *

"I've got to go to Quidditch practice," Ron said a few evenings later as he and Hermione sat in the Prefects' Meeting Room. "All this reading about blood magic is starting to make me feel creepy; I need to get out." He stood and rubbed his eyes. They had spent every free moment poring over books while Harry tried to keep tabs on Ginny's whereabouts.

"Alright, I'll keep working," Hermione said, looking up from a large tome on advanced spells and incantations.

"Have you found anything useful?" he asked, shouldering his school bag.

She shook her head. "A few ideas, but nothing I'm confident of yet. And if we're going to try something on her again, I want to make sure it's right this time. What about you?"

Ron sighed. "I came across some dark magic spells, but they all involve a blood sacrifice of some kind, and I'm not about to go there. Not yet." He raised his hand in a tired wave as he walked around the table to the door. "See you later."

"See you," she said, watching him leave and noting the slump in his shoulders. He had really been working hard, she thought. But of course, it was his sister's life at stake, and she knew that Ron would do anything for Ginny.

Hermione buried her head back in the books and passed the next half hour quietly until the door opened again.

"Back so soon?" she asked, looking up. But it was not Ron's face that greeted her.

"Oh, I should have known," Draco said impatiently. "Don't you ever revise in your room?"

"No," she said curtly, turning back to her book. "But there's plenty of space in here, you needn't be so put out."

Draco hesitated for a moment, then swung his bag onto the table and took a seat across from her. Without another word, he took out his books and parchment and soon the scratching sound of his quill was the only thing disturbing the silence.

A short while later, Hermione's eyes were beginning to blur. She looked up from her book and watched Draco scribbling for a moment. He paused and stretched out his left arm, rubbing it absently before returning to his writing.

"What's wrong with your arm?" Hermione asked.

Draco glanced up at her and back down again. "Nothing."

"You've been rubbing it all day, I noticed it in class. Did you get hurt?"

"Didn't know you were so interested in my body," he smirked, not taking his eyes off his parchment. "I'll have to pay better attention from now on."

Hermione ignored his comment, but continued to watch him intently. Something about the way he had been rubbing his arm nagged at her. He had been clutching at it, running his thumb back and forth over the same small spot.

The realization hit her full force and the blood drained out of her face.

"Malfoy," she said shakily, "let me see your arm."

"Sod off, Granger."

She stood and walked around the table, stopping in front of Draco. Her hands were shaking, but she had to know. It couldn't be true. She swallowed and reached out to touch his wrist, but he jerked it away, standing up quickly. His breathing was becoming rapid.

"Granger, if you don't back off, I swear I'll..."

"You've done it, haven't you," she whispered, her heart pounding. "You've gotten it. The Mark."

The expression in his eyes changed so rapidly that it was all Hermione could do to keep up as she stared at him unbelievingly. Surprise, fear, shame, stubbornness, anger.

"No," he replied evenly.

"I don't believe you. If you don't have it, show me."

She made another grab at him, but his quick reflexes took hold and he grasped both of her wrists, holding them tightly.

"Don't."

"Why?" she asked angrily.

His face now turned from anger to desperation. "Hermione," he said quietly. "Please don't. You don't know what you're asking."

The fact that he had used her first name did not escape her, but it did nothing to assuage the dread settling in her stomach. "Are you a Death Eater?"

He paused, his unreadable grey eyes boring into her own. "It's better if you think I'm not."

She wrenched her hands free of his grip, stumbling backwards and bringing her hands to her mouth. "Oh my God, Malfoy. How could you do this? You're a student, you're Head Boy! Your father is in Azkaban serving a life sentence because he threw his life away to Voldemort! Is that really what you want to become? I thought you were smarter than that. I know you're smarter than that."

"You say that like you think I had a choice," he spat.

"We all make choices," she said, shaking.

"Well, when one of the choices is being tortured to death, it does make the remaining option somewhat attractive," he said forcefully.

"Do you really hate Harry so much that you would do this to yourself?"

Draco scoffed. "Not everything is about your precious Potter."

"What else could it be?" Hermione demanded. "Why else would Voldemort..."

"Stop saying his name!"

"I will not! Why else would Voldemort want you if not to deliver Harry to him. What else could you possibly offer him, you're only 17!"

Draco drew his wand and leveled it at Hermione. His hand was steady, but his voice was shaking.

"Would you like to see what else I can offer him?" The rest of the color drained out of Hermione's face. "Promise me you won't tell anyone else about this," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"I can't..."

"Promise me or I'll Obliviate you right now."

Hermione looked frantically around the room, eyeing her wand lying on the table. "You can't ask me that," she said angrily. "I won't just stand by and let you hand Harry over to Voldemort."

"Damn it! This isn't about Potter!" He lowered his wand and ran his other hand through his hair.

"But you hate him," Hermione accused. "You always have done."

"Does that make me evil then? Hating Harry?" Draco was beyond frustration now. "Is that where we've ended up? Everyone on the good side form a line behind Harry and the rest of you be damned. Is that it? Because if hatred makes you evil, then I think you're in the wrong queue."

Hermione stared at him, stunned. "I don't hate you."

Draco laughed. "And you think I'm in denial."

"I'm not like you, Malfoy."

Draco walked toward her slowly, forcing her to retreat until he had her backed against the wall. "You're so like me that you would rather die than admit it."

"Go to hell."

Draco grabbed her shoulders and pulled her roughly to him, looking at her so intensely that she couldn't look away. "Haven't you heard? Hell is empty. All the devils are here."

Their eyes remained locked in a fiery glare. He was pressed up against her so closely that if Hermione hadn't been so repulsed, she might have thought he was trying to seduce her. She felt the tip of his wand press sharply into her side and thought she saw a flicker of regret pass over his eyes.

"Draco," she pleaded.

"Obliviate," he whispered softly and released her body as it slumped to the floor.

* * *

Credit note: Draco's line "Hell is empty. All the devils are here." is taken from Shakespeare's The Tempest.