Every Breath You Take

Every Breath You Take

Ginny Weasley threw her clothes around the room.

Where's my jumper? Where in Merlin's name is my jumper? If Fred's pinched it again, I'm going to shove Errol down his throat! No, that'd be cruel to Errol. I'm going to do

something to him, though.

The problem, Ginny decided, with living in such a big family, was that almost everything she owned had belonged to her brothers at some point.

Oh, being a girl means I get dresses and skirts, but even then Mum has to buy them second-hand. And Fred still thinks that it's

his jumper. He shouldn't have given it to me if he liked it that much. If only I had one other top that didn't have a hole in it!

Ginny took several deep breaths. After she had got into a fight with Fred and Ron at the start of the summer, her dad had taken her aside and lectured her to try and control her temper. Ginny privately thought that her dad was rather proud that she had walked away without a scratch while Fred had had a bloody nose and Ron a black eye, but she didn't want to let her dad down. Instead, all summer long, she had been working on trying to stay calm, even when the twins teased her, even when Ron joined in.

She flexed her fingers, stretching them outwards, rather than balling them into fists. She found that it helped control her usual initial response to frustration. Rather then preparing herself to fight, she instead opened herself up.

Mum'll know where my jumper is. I should get it washed tonight, anyway. Dad said that Harry Potter might be coming this weekend!

Slipping one of her older, frayed jumpers over her head, she bounced downstairs. "Mummy?" she called as the steps clattered under her feet. "Mummy, do you know where my jumper-"

Impossibly green eyes peered at her curiously from the far side of the kitchen table.

No!

"Hello," Harry Potter said, politely.

"Eep," was all Ginny could manage in reply. She looked frantically around the kitchen, at Fred and George, who were grinning evilly at her, at Ron, who was looking at her in a very confused way, at her mum, who was scowling at the twins.

And then, finally, she looked at Harry, who was looking at her, watching her.

He's looking at me. What am I wearing? A torn jumper and my nightdress. Oh, no!

Ginny turned and ran out of the kitchen, back up to the safety of her bedroom. She suddenly didn't care about getting her jumper very much. She was seriously considering never leaving her room again.

*

Every breath you take

Every move you make

Every bond you break

Every step you take

I'll be watching you

*

Ginny hadn't left her room all day. Instead, she was staring out of the window towards the paddock where Harry, Ron and the twins were playing Quidditch. She'd be able to talk to Harry about that, at least. Ron said that he was a fantastic Seeker. Ginny played Seeker sometimes, when her brothers let her play. She preferred playing Chaser. She scowled at her brothers. It was a lot easier to break into the broomshed and take a broom for practise when they were at school, even if she did have to use Charlie's old Comet 120.

She picked up one of Fred's letters, which told of Harry's triumphant debut as Gryffindor Seeker. She knew the Quidditch team almost as well as the twins did, it seemed. She also knew that there wouldn't be anyone finishing Hogwarts on the team for another two years. She wondered if she'd be good enough to play by then.

Looking out of the window, she caught site of Harry diving at George, who dropped the Quaffle in surprise. She smiled at the sight of Harry enjoying himself.

Ron said he hates living with the Muggles. I don't think they let Harry enjoy himself very much, from what Ron said. Why doesn't he live with a wizarding family?

Watching Harry and Ron laugh, Ginny decided to try out for the Quidditch team as soon as she could. She wanted to be around Harry when he was happy.

*

Every single day

Every word you say

Every game you play

Every night you stay

I'll be watching you

*

Ginny piled her Hogwarts things at the foot of the bed. She was scarlet with rage as she thought of that man insulting her and her family. She couldn't believe her father had actually had a fight with Mr Malfoy, especially after he'd lectured her so much about keeping control of herself.

She threw herself down on her bed, and started sorting through her books. She really wasn't sure what she wanted to read about. She'd seen most of these books at various points, and had inherited a number of Ron's books, which had notes from all of her brothers scribbled in the margins. The only really knew ones were the Lockhart books - she'd never liked him, and wasn't looking forward to being taught by him - and this dirty looking. . .

Diary? I didn't buy a diary. Maybe mum put it in here. But what do I want with a fifty year old diary?

She sighed, and opened it to that day's date.

My name is Ginny Weasley,

she wrote. I don't know why I'm writing in this stupid diary, except I just wanted to say how unfair the world can be at times.

She sighed, and set her quill aside. She left the diary open on her bed as she let her room, lingering outside Ron's door in the hope of seeing Harry pass by.

The diary lay on her bed for several moments. Then the ink on the page disappeared, re-emerging as Well done, Lucius.

The words disappeared again, and the diary sat, open and blank. But whereas before the scene had been perfectly innocent, it now felt as though something had changed. Now it seemed as though the diary was waiting, eager for more ink, more thoughts to be placed upon its pages.

*

Oh can't you see

You belong to me

How my poor heart aches with every step you take

*

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station, and Ginny was bundled into a boat alongside two other first year girls. She was nervous, and worried about her Ron and Harry, who hadn't been on the train. She clutched her diary tight to her chest, wrapped safely inside her robes. What a wonderful secret she had! A friend she could carry around with her.

I'll ask Tom what happens when someone misses the train. There must have been people who did it before.

After the boat ride across the lake, the first years were led into Hogwarts, where they were lined up and called to the front of the Great Hall to try on the school Sorting Hat. She felt queasy when she put the Sorting Hat on. The diary slipped, and nearly dropped to the floor, but she caught it in time. She jumped when the Hat began to speak inside her head.

"Ah, another Weasley. Very interesting, yes, very interesting indeed. Normally it's easy enough. Your brothers were all in Gryffindor, of course, although one was quite smart enough to be placed in Ravenclaw. You, however, are a challenge. Of course, you have the Gryffindor courage and sense of justice, and yet there is something about you. . . Something. . . Hmm, yes, something that would be very well suited to life in Slytherin."

Ginny's eyes sprung open, and she shook her head, early dislodging the hat in doing so.

Not Slytherin,

she thought furiously. Not Slytherin!

"Not Slytherin, eh? Well, if you're sure, better be. . . GRYFFINDOR!!"

Ginny had never felt so relieved in her life. She'd have to tell Tom about this.

I wonder what house he was in? Probably Ravenclaw,

she thought, as she took her seat by Percy and the twins. He's really smart.

*

Every move you make

Every vow you break

Every smile you fake

Every claim you stake

I'll be watching you

*

Ginny was rather looking forward to Halloween. She hadn't been sleeping well, and Percy had made her drink pepper Up Potion, which she hated. She'd told Tom all about it, and he'd said that Percy was just trying to help. She'd sleepily agreed. It had been nearly three o'clock in the morning, and she should have been asleep hours before, especially with Potions firs thing the next morning.

The time just seems to fly by when I'm talking to Tom.

But Halloween would be her first Hogwarts event, and she couldn't wait. It would be so much fun to sit with her brothers - she hadn't made any real friends yet, even among the girls in her dormitory - and she'd wear some of the occult jewellery her mum had given her. Lots of crescents and wands and brooms. She always wore it on Halloween, and maybe Harry would notice it. He'd barely even looked at her since his dramatic arrival at Hogwarts with Ron.

Oh, wouldn't it be nice if he just said

something! Even if he just noticed it.

Tom thought that it was a good idea to get to be friends with Harry. He was always very interested in Harry, which Ginny could understand. They could talk for hours about how good it would be when Ginny was his friend. She had decided that Harry would be the first person she'd tell about Tom.

Tom didn't seem to like that idea very much at first, but it grew on him. Ginny was glad. She wanted Tom and Harry to be friends.

*

Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace

I dream at night I can only see your face

I look around but it's you I can't replace

I feel so cold and I long for your embrace

I keep crying baby, baby please

*

Ginny didn't feel well when she woke up on the morning after Halloween. She'd missed the feast the night before, and now something horrible was loose in the school. Everyone was nervous and jittery. Ginny couldn't understand how she'd ended up with red paint on her hands, and spent ages scrubbing it off. She felt embarrassed and nervous, and didn't understand why.

She had to work hard to keep up with her homework. Tom didn't like it when she didn't write to him regularly, but some subjects, especially Potions and Charms, were so hard that she was stuck in the Library for hours.

She always felt so refreshed when she was in the Library. She didn't want to say so to Tom, though. He didn't like being left alone in the dormitory, but her bag was already very heavy, and carrying him around - he seemed to be getting heavier - would have been too much.

He'd become quite angry about that.

Ginny was also worried about the times when she was just going missing for short spells of time. Tom had been much more understanding about that. When she came back to the dormitory one night with blood and feathers all over her robes, he'd spent hours calming her down. He'd been horrified, too, about the idea of Harry getting hurt playing Quidditch. The things he said about Professor Lockhart had been terrifying. She hadn't known that Tom had a temper as bad as that.

The argument after Harry had been hurt playing Quidditch had been the worst. The things he'd said about Lockhart had really scared Ginny, and when she said so, Tom had turned on her, spewing forth bile and rage onto his pages until Ginny had tried to slam the diary shut.

She'd awoken the next morning feeling as though she hadn't had more than a moment's sleep. A boy in her year had been attacked by whatever monster had lain inside the Chamber of Secrets, and everyone was terrified. Tom had been very flippant about it when she'd talked to him, saying, "The life of one Mudblood doesn't matter very much."

It was then that she had decided to throw the diary away. Tom had changed so much, and she needed more sleep then he was letting her have. If she was going to keep having blank periods, then she needed to sleep more, and the only way she could do that was getting rid of Tom. She'd tried ignoring him, but it seemed that she couldn't go a day without saying something to him, and then she was always drawn into long talks with him.

And it's just not nice talking to him anymore. It's time for him to go.

*

Oh can't you see

You belong to me

How my poor heart aches with every step you take

*

How can Harry have Tom's diary? It's impossible. I flushed it down Myrtle's toilet!

Ginny ran frantically back to Gryffindor Tower, tears streaming down her cheeks. She gasped as she ran straight through the Fat Friar, but didn't stop. She needed time to think. She barged past Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas as they came through the portrait hole, and threw herself into one of the armchairs by the fire. She scowled furiously at the flames as she tried to think of what she was going to do.

I have to get it back,

she decided. Friday night. It'll be fine, she told herself. Harry'll be at practise, Ron will be watching with him. The other boys will be here. I can just say I'm going to look for something of Ron's.

*

It was easier than Ginny thought to sneak up to the boy's dormitory. In a happier time, she briefly thought, she'd have imagined sneaking up there to talk to Harry. But now she was going to steal something of his. The horrible irony was almost enough to make her cry.

When she couldn't find the diary at first, she grew frantic, tearing at his robes, ripping his sheets, using her wand to split his pillows open. She kicked his trunk in anger, and it toppled over, spilling the contents all over the floor of the room. She froze at the clatter, but no one came up. And then she spotted Tom's diary lying on the floor, and scooped it up, cradling it like a long lost child.

She could feel it calling to her now. After being away from it for so long, it felt frighteningly comfortable. She couldn't stand to think about writing in it again. She hurried back to her dormitory, and buried it at the bottom of her trunk, sitting her cauldron firmly on top of it.

*

The next day, Hermione and another girl were attacked and Petrified. Ginny spent the day curled up in her bed. She couldn't remember anything since the night before. She was too scared even to cry. She was terrified that it was her fault. She couldn't remember so much of the year. She couldn't think of what she had been taught. She didn't know how she could face the exams. And if she were really the person attacking people. . .

She made it through the weekend, somehow. She saw Ron the next day and he looked as though he'd been kicked in the stomach.

Hermione was his best friend. Of course he looks bad. I should talk to him. He needs to know, he can tell someone. . .

But Harry came back into the common room, looking as bad as Ron did. Ginny couldn't bring herself to face the two of them. Ron might have understood, but Harry?

No, Harry wouldn't understand. He wouldn't be taken in by some stupid enchanted diary.

She spent the next week trying to think of someone she could talk to, but whenever she felt ready to talk to the twins or Percy, Ron or even one of the teachers, she became too scared. The final straw came on the Friday morning, when she screwed up the courage to talk to Harry and Ron, but Percy scared her off. She ran, and didn't stop running until she was back in her dormitory.

She slumped backwards on her bed, but instantly sat back up.

I should talk to Tom.

She turned to look at the trunk.

It can't have been him. He's far too nice.

She reached hesitantly for the latch on the trunk, and popped it open.

No, I can't talk to Tom. I can't trust him.

She pulled back from the trunk, but then found herself kneeling before it, the lid open, and Tom's diary in her hands.

No! I won't! You can't make me!

Of course I can, you stupid little girl.

*

Every move you make

Every vow you break

Every smile you fake

Every claim you stake

I'll be watching you

*

She fought as hard as she could, screaming and sobbing, but it seemed as though no one could hear her. Even when he brought her to the bathroom, she threw the diary as far away from her as she could.

It was snatched out of the air.

"Come now, Ginny," Tom Riddle said, his face still and absolutely emotionless. "Don't struggle. You'll only make it worse. Just give yourself to me."

"I won't!"

Tom sighed. "I tried so hard to get you into Slytherin, you know. . . Blasted Gryffindors and their blasted courage. Very well, if we have to do things the hard way. . ."

He vanished, and the diary dropped to the floor.

Ginny screamed. Dropping to her knees, she seemed to be fighting herself, struggling against every small movement she was making towards the diary.

No, I won't. You can't make me.

Yes, I can.

No! I won't!

You will

I won't!

You will!

No. . .

No. . .

Yes.

Slowly, weakly, not even crying anymore, Ginny crawled forward and picked up the diary. She stood, and turned to face the row of sinks.

"Open up," she hissed calmly, her face still and absolutely emotionless.

*

Every move you make

Every step you take

I'll be watching you

I'll be watching you

*

Harry relaxed in the common room. He had received the plaudits of half the school, it seemed, since seeing off Lucius Malfoy earlier that day. Even by his standards, Harry mused, it had been a very busy day. He had decided to sit up for a short while after the feast was finished because his mind was still trying to come to terms with everything he'd seen that day.

Absently, he rubbed the spot on his arm where the basilisk's fang had penetrated.

He shuddered as he recalled the way the poison had felt as it coursed through his veins, how Fawkes had swooped in to heal him, how Tom had screamed as Harry plunged the fang deep into the diary and out through the back cover.

And then Ginny woke up, and Harry had breathed easily for the first time in what felt like weeks.

Harry thought of the small, scarlet-haired girl now lying in the hospital wing, and sighed. She'd been embarrassing and a little bit annoying, if he thought about it, but he should have taken the time to get to know her. She was Ron's sister, and with a little bit of luck, he'd be seeing her a lot over the summer.

I can't undo past mistakes. Maybe I can try and stop making them?

Harry slipped silently up the stairs to his dormitory, and pulled the Invisibility Cloak from his trunk. He slipped it around his shoulders, and left the common room.

Walking in to the hospital wing, he didn't have to look hard to find Ginny. Her fiery mane of hair stood out vividly against the sterile whiteness of her bedclothes.

She was shifting in her sleep, muttering and moaning. Harry approached, looking around for Madam Pomfrey. He was surprised that Ginny had been left alone. Hesitating slightly, he pulled up a chair beside her bed and sat down.

He watched for several minutes as Ginny tossed and turned, at one point lashing out with a closed fist. Harry caught her hand just before she drove it into her bedside table, and held it tightly as she struggled against him.

Her hand opened, and he took it in his. She stiffened, and then relaxed, laying still. There was still a troubled look on her face, but she seemed calmer for his being there, her hand in his.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "I'll stay all night if I have to. No one can get you, Ginny. I'll be keeping an eye out. I'll be watching you."

*

I'll be watching you

The End