Rating:
R
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Ginny Weasley Tom Riddle
Genres:
Drama Humor
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 12/10/2002
Updated: 12/10/2002
Words: 2,079
Chapters: 1
Hits: 939

Reminisce in the Girl's Bathroom

Nicolette N. Coer

Story Summary:
Vague Tom/Ginny feel to it. Ginny and Myrtle talk about a very suductive Poison: Tom M. Riddle.

Posted:
12/10/2002
Hits:
939
Author's Note:
:) this was written for the LJ Gin_and_Tonic group. wrote it ages ago, but just recently had it beta'd.

Some times, it got so lonely.... Ginny cradled her head in her hands. Considering that she had to stay over at Hogworts for holidays, no wonder she was lonely. Too bad that he Barrow wasn't safe. And there really wasn't that much to do while every one was gone. Except... Ginny lifted her tear stained face. There was... one thing. Not the smartest thing to do, but then again, there was a reason she wasn't in Ravenclaw. She stood up, straightening her robes. Looking in the tall mirror, she observed her pale reflection.

"Ginny, girl, you need to cheer up, eat a bit more, and go out in the sun for once. You are looking entirely too pale. But you're a beautiful girl. Remember. Beautiful..." She continued talking to herself for a few more moments before grabbing a notebook and quill. Time to bother Moaning Myrtle.

*******

In Myrtle's bathroom, Ginny attentively knocked on Myrtle's stall. "Myrtle?"

"Go away!" The ghostly young girl cried from with in the stall. "Leave me alone!"

"Myrtle. I wanted to visit, because I figured you wouldn't mind my company... But I guess I was wrong. Thought we might have a nice chat..." Ginny started to turn.

"Wait!" Myrtle's face pushed through the stall door. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Tom Riddle."

*******

Ginny sat on the toilet, a look of rapt attention on her face. Myrtle sat on the top of the stall door, Gloating at the attention.

"Well, He was a good looking boy, you know. But," Myrtle said, swinging her legs, "he was the meanest kid when the teachers weren't around. Really mean...He called me lots of nasty, nasty names. I think he picked on me because I didn't have wizarding parents. Mean, nasty boy...rather good looking...Anyhow, the teachers all thought he was the most wonderful student they ever had. Smart, knew the textbook by heart. Had everybody swooning... "

"Why, Mrytle! You liked him, didn't you?"

"He was good looking, that's all," Myrtle replied sticking her nose up in the air. "Besides, he was an ill tempered parentless meanie."

"Myrtle! It's a sad thing, not to have parents. To lose them."

Myrtle looked at Ginny as though she had spurted another head. "Oh, he had parents, once. I heard that his da was a muggle and was so repelled by the fact that his wife was a witch he left her to die in childbirth. Let Tom Riddle Jr. go to a nasty orphanage. In fact, I believe I heard from one of the students about 40 years ago that the orphanage was shut down on the counts that it was very dirty.

"The manager, if that's what you called him, did some rather nasty things to the kids, if you know what I mean. There were a couple of unsolved murders. Personally, I think that Tom was behind them. Anyhow, he grew up in the orphanage, came here, charmed the teachers and half the students. He was a bit... odd though. Superiority complex, I think they call it. He thought he was that much better then every one else, and more so with me and the other muggle borns. And...well, might as well tell you, your so nice, and no one likes me.

"They didn't then, they don't now...Anyhow, some times, when I was feeling bad and in here, crying, and hiding from the other students, I would hear him come in here. He would fiddle with some thing, say something else, and by the time I peeked out of the stall I was in, he was gone. He didn't go out the door; he just wasn't there. And the broken sink would leak more, too. I think he must have gone into the walls. A few times, I hear him come back. Horrid sound. Any how-"

"Where did you say he went?"

"I didn't. I said I thought he had gone into the walls. Well, actually, he didn't. He went under them. Like you did in your first year. Now-"

"Myrtle, that's not really something to make a joke about."

Myrtle looked at Ginny in disbelief. "I-I don't lie! You hate me! You don't want to talk to me. You're just here to make me feel bad about being d-dead!" Myrtle wailed at Ginny. "You hate me-"

"Myrtle, my friend don't...I just...don't remember going down under the walls. I remember being there though. Only for a few moments, but..."

Myrtle blinked. "You were in there? He didn't kill you? He didn't hurt you?"

Ginny blushed. "That, Myrtle, would depend on what your definition of 'hurt' and 'death' would be."

"Hurt: to cause physical or emotional pain to a living thing," Myrtle said, rather straight faced. "Death: to no longer exist, i.e., death took her early, or 'it was the death of my innocence'. The end. Or, at least for most people, it's the end. Not for me, it seems."

"Then, yes, in a way he hurt me, and in a way he killed me."

Myrtle blinked. "You have to be lying. You're not dead."

Ginny sighed. How did you explain emotional deaths and loss of innocence to a ghost who never felt them? Or had she? "I think I might as well tell you about what I do remember... "

*******

Cold. So very cold. And the floor was so hard, so unforgiving...The floor? Ginny jerked up and looked around herself. It was rather dark, and so...damp. Standing not far away was a boy whose skin was pale and hair was dark.

"What... Tom? Is that you?"

Tom M. Riddle turned around. "You're awake."

"Yes, I am. Tom, where are we? And why are you so...here?"

A slow grin crossed Tom's face. "Where are we? Why, Gin, we are at my ancestral home...in a way."

"What do you mean? You didn't answer my second question, Tom. Why are you more here then you ever were? Why...?"

"Gin, Gin, Gin..." Tom walked closer, shaking his head. "My dear... So many questions, so many answers, so many points of view. You see, my dear, this, all this around you, is my...inheritance, you might say. The place my distant yet powerful ancestor created. Gin, my dear, can you guess who I am referring to? A most powerful...Who is it Gin? I know you're intelligent enough, as you did try to rid your self of me. WHO IS IT?" He shook her.

Tears started to pour down Ginny's face. His hands hurt her. Not like the other times, when they were only like the wind, non-substantial. Gripping, now, hard..."Tom! Please, Tom, I-I don't know! You're hurting me. Please!"

Tom looked at his hands, the knuckles white. He had no idea he was gripping that hard. He loosened his grip. "I didn't notice," he swallowed. "Gin, you do know. You do. You...Gin, you're just far too loyal for your own good. Now, who built a hidden chamber here at Hogworts? Come on. The rumors have been flying about. You know this one."

Ginny's lip trembled. "No...Salazar Slytherin built it. But... how would we get in? Only his heir..." She gasped. No, it was not true, it was not true! Tom was far too nice for that; he made her happy, even if he made her do things that were bad.

"Yes. His heir. The heir to the power and Glory of Slytherin! I AM his heir. And you are feeding me to existence with your...life. Yes, life is the best way to put it. You are weaker, no? A bit dizzy, perhaps? That is why, my little Gin, you are giving your self more to me with every passing moment. Every breath, every thought, every emotion...every desire." He brushed his hands along her collarbone. "It seems that the purest aren't as pure in their thoughts, eh?"

Ginny blushed. "Well..."

"Ah...'well' doesn't explain it. You want some things...you want them so bad...I could give them to you, you know. Quite easily. Yes. And I will, as it would indeed please me...Gin, are you scared of power?"

"If you can read my thoughts so well, you should tell me."

"Ah, but it's so much better to hear it. Much more permanent than thoughts. Thoughts you will have, but no one can catch them, no one can know them. Words, when said, allow us to know...to catch. And it's much more assuring. What is your answer?"

"No. Not really. It's just that-"

Tom cut her off. "No 'just'. This...thing you want brings with it a sort of power." He touched his lips to her shoulder. "A sort of power that is very strong. In a way, a neutral power. It in itself is neither good or evil. However, if one uses it in a way, it can be either evil or good. Using it to manipulate for one's own goals...that makes it a shade of evil. To use it for the greater good makes it a shade of good. And what do you think I use it for?" His eyes slyly peered at Ginny.

"I-I don't know..."

Tom laughed, loudly and shaking his head. "Gin, I forgot that you are still a young child. Still trusting and far to young to understand the complicated matters that surround you. You most likely don't understand power."

Ginny stared indignantly at him. "Why, how dare you! You calling me a child! After all this, you rude, thoughtless pig!"

"Tech, tech, dear. Don't use up your remaining energy on thoughtless words. Though, I must admit, I like it when you use your fiery energy. Something attracting, that energy. Draws me in...Most likely because you have some undeveloped power. You could have been very powerful, you know. But you had to be born to those muggle loving parents of yours...how disgraceful. They might as well be muggles. But, moth to the flame, which doth burn as it grows closer. Only this time the moth shall burn the fire."

Ginny knew what was coming. But never had it happened when he was this...well...this real. It exhausted her, and it almost hurt. But the pleasure drove out the pain...and, soon after, sheer exhaustion drove out the pleasure, or at least the consciousness of it, and she fell into a deep slumber, from which she awakened much later then she would have wished, as by that time, Tom was lost to her.

*****************

After she had finished relating these events to Myrtle, Ginny waited for a reaction. It took a few minutes, and then Myrtle said, "Well."

"What do you mean, 'Well.' You sound rather smug."

"Nothing, except that it was rather... illegal, wasn't it? Though, I must say, I would have enjoyed being in your situation. To do that with Tom Riddle! Why, that was every girl's dream when I was alive. To my knowledge he never dated. Just a few one night stands, I heard, and those where only with the most promising Slytherin girls. No hope for me, no...No hope for Myrtle, miss. Hogworts virgin, who would die before any boy would look at her twice. Yes, poor, Myrtle. I think I'll go feel sorry for my self in the u-bend now."

"Myrtle, I guess I shouldn't have told you. It made you so upset...Oh, dear, I feel so awful! What can I do to make it up to you?"

"Don't do any thing. Unless you could give me a more vivid description? I haven't heard that much interesting news since looking in on that orgy in the prefect's bath room!"

"Eh...Orgy in the prefect's bath room?"

"Oh, dear, I shouldn't have mentioned that...Now every one is going to know I spy on the male prefects while they bathe...But, you know, they have some rather good looking bodies."

"Myrtle, dear, please, don't tell me any more. Bad images. I'll come back tomorrow, Myrtle, and I'll give you full details."

"OH! One more thing I have to tell you, Ginny. Were you aware that you used to masturbate in here in your first year?"

Ginny turned red as her hair. "Not really..."

"Okay, I just thought I'd let you know. After all, I'd want to know if the what ever it was of Tomas Riddle was making me get off. See you tomorrow. Just don't forget I want all the details!"

Ginny went back to her dorm. Myrtle decided to go to the inn at Hogsmeade. There was bound to be some action in those big hot baths there....

Fin.