Space

Ginny lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She hated being stuck in Grimmauld Place as much as any of the others. She thought she hated it almost as much as Sirius did. The whole atmosphere of the place seemed to be weighing down on her. It was too dark, too heavy, too claustrophobic and there were snakes everywhere.

You said you needed some space

I'll give you space

She remembered being back in her dormitory at Hogwarts for the first time. She'd never had to share a room before. All of her brothers had to share rooms, but Ginny had a room of her own. It was just a space she called her own. It was so hard to live in a room with four other girls. She wanted to get away from them, but she had no friends really, and going out on her own scared her. Without the knowledge of her mother's eyes watching from the kitchen window, Ginny didn't seem to be able to go out on her own. Flying lessons let her get a taste of the outside, and the castle was big enough that she never felt too trapped, but she still missed her room. She missed having a place for her thoughts that was all her own.

You said you needed some space

Space? Space?

Writing in the diary had been so easy, so easy to confide all her most secret thoughts to it. It was her place and her book. By the time he wrote back, she already relied on it. Looking at the ceiling of Grimmauld Place, Ginny remembered the conversations, the shy revelations, the admission of her deepest feelings and her deepest fears. She didn't want to be trapped again. She wanted space again to be herself. She wanted space where she wasn't just another Weasley, where Harry Potter might look at her as something other than Ron's sister. She stopped wanting her Mother's comforting presence at the window and started longing for a way out.

Yeah right. Space.

I'm coming for you.

She never knew when it had turned sinister. However much she tried, she couldn't place the moment it went wrong. It was before the blank patches, that much she did know. She started to realize that she shouldn't reveal so much of herself, tried to retreat, but Tom knew what she most wanted and needed now. When she started losing pieces of her life, she wanted to run and scream. She didn't understand at first. Ginny had been caught in a web of her own making, all her cries for space and peace had created a prison for her, and now he was coming.

I'm the shadow in the corner of the room.

I'm the reason you feel sick in the morning.

I'm the panic attack at the end of the day.

She had lost a lot of time. She thought of all the days she had forgotten. She had told Harry, that being possessed by Voldemort meant losing large patches of your life and she had meant it, but there was more to it than that. Even now, years later, Tom was there with her: The blood on her hands, the feathers, the people petrified. Every bit of news she heard, made her even more scared and she could feel him always. He was there with her always. Now, she was never alone. There was no space for her. She screamed to be let free but she couldn't ask for help. He was always there with her. He was here, too. In the dark corners of the room, Ginny could feel him. Last summer, with Hermione only a few feet away in the other bed, Ginny had been able to ignore her fear, but now there was just her in the room. She hoped Hermione's parents would let her come, soon. Every shadow seemed to whisper to her. Every dark corner called. Ginny could still remember the hold he had over her, and she wasn't sure she'd ever be free. Tom had claimed her for his own, and that was for life. She woke every morning with the habit of checking her hands for blood.

You needed some space, huh?

I loved you.

Now you're gone.

And I see you everywhere.

She could remember that last trip down into the Chamber clearly. She'd never told anyone that. He'd left it clear in her memory, as if to toy with her. He had brought her down there, and he had come out of the diary and held her tightly. He said he loved her, told her there was space here, no one would ever disturb her again, and then he laughed. Ginny heard that laughter in her sleep. She saw his cold, mocking eyes in her dreams. When she had heard all the details of the battle she had missed, when she heard Voldemort had been in the Ministry when she was there, she had felt the old panic rising in her throat. Tom was never going to leave her completely; she would never forget him, and yet he was gone completely. Voldemort would not know her at all; he was not Tom, and yet he was. He was gone from everywhere, except her mind, and so he was everywhere. Trapped in the Grimmauld Place, in the home of generations of Dark wizards, she could see him everywhere, he surrounded her again.

Space.

Space.

Ginny had looked to Harry as her saviour before, and he had come and rescued her. Now, she looked to him again. She looked to him to end the war and to set her free. Maybe if Voldemort dies, then she would be free of Tom. She would have her space again. She would travel to America, to the wide-open prairies where there was nothing to hem her. She might wander around Scotland, see the mountains and find places that were known only to the smallest number of humans. She could travel to the ends of the earth and find all the space it held. If Voldemort were dead, then Tom would go too. Staring at the ceiling in Grimmauld Place, Ginny hung on to that thought; it had to be true, or she would never be free again.