All Fall Down

 

Ron sat quietly in the common room, lost in thoughts he didn't wish to share. Harry and Hermione sat next to him, worried looks on their faces. He hadn't wanted them to come, had wanted to be alone for a few minutes with the grief and the anger that threatened to blow forth in conversation. But they hadn't let him be, they'd insisted on coming to keep him company. Ron knew they meant well. But that didn't make it all right.

Staring blankly at his worn out brown shoes, Ron recalled the happy, carefree atmosphere in the great hall, the people eating, talking, smiling, and laughing. It made him furious, for reasons that he couldn't really justify. What right did they have to be so happy, when Percy was gone? Of course, he rationalized with himself, they couldn't know. The ministry hadn't released the information for fear of widespread panic. It had only been two years since the Dark Lord had gone...and people were bound to start spreading frantic rumors if they knew. No, that was the last thing they needed.

Yet...it seemed wrong. It seemed wrong to be here in this place, and wrong to worry about schoolbooks and studies. Percy could be dead somewhere, lying in some hole, unfound, uncared for, and yet somehow Ron would have to find a way to take his exams, and study, and go to social events. None of that seemed to matter, it seemed to be all childishness. He thought it had been over, two years ago. He thought it wouldn't happen any more, he thought he wouldn't need to go through more pain and grief and fear like that horrible, horrible year, and that horrible, horrible war.

That was stupid of me, he thought bitterly, clenching his hand unconsciously around the arm of his chair. I should have known it wasn't all Voldemort and his followers. People, people themselves are evil, no matter what we say. I thought it was over...but people still steal, and kidnap, and kill, and hate, and....it doesn't matter. Did we accomplish anything, when we destroyed the death eaters? He'd always thought they had, until now. It doesn't change, does it? It's all the same, all the impurities.

Ron caught Hermione staring at him, and felt a pang of irritation at her and Harry, for not letting him be. This was his war to fight, his inner turmoil. He didn't want their help, he wanted to be alone, for just three minutes. Why was that so very hard? He wondered how Fred and George, Bill and Charlie, Mum and Dad were taking it...and then thought about Ginny. He hadn't seen her at the feast at all...in fact, the last time he'd noticed her, she was getting off the train. Worried, he stood up, and moved around the chair.

"I'm gonna go find Ginny," he said shortly to his companions, who nodded, and, to his surprise, put out no argument. Harry must have convinced her to let me alone, Ron thought, watching Hermione's face. But it didn't matter. Without another word, he trudged up the stairs, up to the sixth year girls' dormitory, where he knocked quietly on the door. "Ginny? Ginny, are you there? It's Ron...I won't come in, I just want to talk."

He heard a thud, then footsteps before the door creaked open, and Ginny's freckled face poked out, framed by her long, flaming red hair, and accented by the dark streaks under her eyes. "Hullo, Ron," she said, beginning to try to smile, and then frowning. "Ron, are you all right? You look....odd."

No, I'm not all right, he wanted to say. I'm not all right, I'll never be all right again. It was all an illusion, Gin, all lies, damn lies, and more lies. You'll know, someday, if you don't already. None of it mattered. Nothing changed. And poor Percy....I never even got a chance to say goodbye. Goodbye? Startled by his own thoughts, Ron took a deep breath, unwilling to accept in the conscious what his subconscious already had. Goodbye...

"Yeah...." He tried to say, then "No...I mean...it's not..." he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "I dunno, Ginny...but what about you? How are you getting on?"

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, and then promptly shut it again. She closed her eyes, and a few thick tears lighted on her lower eyelashes as she tried valiantly to compose herself. "Ron...do you think...I mean...is he going to be...all right? I'm sure he will, really," she gushed, unable to contain herself. "Won't he? Percy, he was always so smart, so resourceful...he can't be gone..."

Seeing the look on her face, Ron desperately wanted to tell Ginny that she was right, that Percy would come back, and everything would be just fine again. But he couldn't be sure, and he wasn't the boy he'd been, when he could just smile and be sure of himself, and tell her lies that might not come true. Biting his lip, he looked Ginny in the eye, and didn't even have to speak. She looked up at him, trusting, and scared, but somehow older in his eyes than he'd ever seen her before. I don't want you to have to face this world yet, Gin, he thought desperately.

Suddenly, Ginny rushed forward and threw her arms around her brother, burying her face in his shirt. Ron hugged her close for a long time, cursing the disillusionment. He didn't know if Percy would ever come back, he'd heard horror stories about other kidnappings, though they were all in Voldemort's time.

* * * * *

After Ron trudged back to his dormitory, Ginny went back to her own, and threw herself on to the bed, hugging her pillow to her chest and closing her eyes. Why didn't I tell him about the dreams, she wondered blankly, cursing herself. Why didn't I? What am I afraid of? He's haunting me again.

Thinking back, she remembered the night before, and shuddered involuntarily. Tortured by thoughts of Percy and what could have happened, she'd gone off into a troubled sleep, and he'd come to her, a face from her past that she'd hoped never to see again, a voice she still cringed to hear. Everything was always filled with wispy green smoke when she saw him, like her third year, and the recurring nightmares. Every night, she'd dreamed of him, his coldly handsome face, jet dark hair, green robes swirling around him in the gloom...

What am I thinking? Ginny shot up out of bed, shaking her head violently to clear it. He'd tortured her that third year, every single night. She'd been unable to escape...until she'd finally gone mad, starting skipping classes, dropping grades...finally, he'd gone away. But now he was back. Every time she'd seen his face she'd woken up, whimpering and cringing, even the night before. Falling asleep again, he'd be there, laughing and beckoning to her to come.

But Tom Riddle couldn't come back now. He was long dead, even his memory destroyed in the ripped and tattered diary that would never be recovered...Ginny wondered what had happened to the diary. She'd never seen it since, hoped that Harry had disposed of it wisely. Still, it could never be used, could it? Ginny felt cold all over just thinking about it, feeling as if his cold hands were grabbing her again, like that one horrible day...

* * * * *

Later that evening, Hermione retired to her own dormitory, her mind whirling with contemplations. As she extended her hand to pull open the door, she stopped, surprised to hear nothing from within, complete silence. That was odd, she thought. Seeing Lavender and Parvati go up earlier, and Thetis a while afterward, she had assumed they were still there. Perhaps they were all in the bathroom. She pulled open the door, and stepped inside.

Seated on the bed next to her own was Thetis, wrapped in a white nightdress, with her legs hugged against her chest. She was looking very uncomfortable, facing the ground and running the cotton bedspread through in fingers in quick nervous gestures. At the far end of the room, Lavender and Parvati were sitting together, whispering in low tones and occasionally glancing over at where Thetis sat. Hermione cleared her throat, and Parvati jumped slightly, looking guilty.

"Ah, hello Hermione, I didn't hear you come in...how was your summer?" She glanced at Lavender, who nodded.

"Fine," said Hermione shortly, raising her eyebrows and walking over to where Thetis sat. She placed a hand gently on her shoulder to gain her attention, but the other girl didn't look up. "Thetis? Are you all right? You look odd."

Still not turning to face her, Thetis murmured something incoherent, then stood, nodded quietly to Hermione, and left the room, closing the door behind her. Hermione watched her go, and then turned on Parvati and Lavender. "What happened?" She demanded. The two girls looked at each other, and then Lavender spoke up.

"Well, Hermione...don't you think she's a bit...well...strange? I mean, have you seen her eyes? How they always drift like that?" She glanced at Parvati for support.

"Yes," Parvati backed up firmly, "And the way she always touches everything?" She shuddered. "She's a bit creepy, if you ask me."

"Well no one did," shot Hermione, feeling anger building up inside her. How dare they? "I suppose you've just sat there, the whole time, have you?" Her voice was rising slightly, and getting shriller as she spoke. "Just sat there, making her feel unwelcome?" Seeing the two girls' guilty and defensive faces, she glared. "You should be ashamed...she'll have a hard enough time coming in during seventh year, and you have to go and make it worse? Horrible...I didn't believe it of you."

"We didn't start it," blurted Parvati, throwing up her hands. "It was the Slytherins! Someone, I don't know who, starting chanting something, and then everyone was yelling for her to go back where she came from...she really doesn't belong here, Hermione..." and Parvati stood straighter to take the brunt of Hermione's anger, "I know what you'll say, but she doesn't! She won't work out here, she'll bring the rest of us down with her, she should go-!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH," bellowed Hermione, surprising herself. Not knowing Hermione to be one to bellow often, Lavender and Parvati squeaked and huddled back into their corner. Hermione didn't bother to say another word. She swept out of the room, and down the steps into the common room, staring around. A small black haired bundle sat crouched in the firelight, casting odd shadows on the walls, intermixed with those of the flames. Hermione hurried over.

"Thetis, oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know...I didn't know they'd be like that," she said hurriedly. Thetis looked up into Hermione's face, and Hermione knew she couldn't see her, but somehow she felt awful, like those eyes were penetrating her soul. "I really am sorry," she whispered. Thetis shook her head, and stood.

"No, never mind," she said. "I should have known it would be like this. I'm stupid like that, sometimes, Hermione." It came out bitter. "When I transferred here, I thought I could fit in...everyone else at BackGarden knew it was a bad idea. They all went to other schools...like my old one, places meant for them." Her tone changed, sounded beseeching and angry somehow at the same time. "But you see...I'm not all that different...and I thought maybe it would be all right..." she shook her head again. "No...no, I should have known, Hermione. It's not your fault...It's not your fault."

* * * * *

Tom Riddle stood in his musty darkened room, and laughed quietly to himself. It was all done now. It had taken long enough, and they had certainly been a problem...but of course, no one could hold out forever. Trying to make them submit willing had gotten boring after a while, as he'd known it would. But it felt so good to back in the world again...they'd remember him now. They'd remember him forever.

Glancing over at the limp forms in the far corner, he felt a pan of irritation that it had been so easy. He was tired of playing with the minds of foolish things; he wanted a challenge, something to test his true powers, to show the world what he could really be! The girl had given up rather easily, to save her precious Percy...but he had been harder. Riddle laughed derisively, louder this time. His...love for his sister, that must have been it. Yes...he'd do anything to save her, even suffer through Cruciatus. A pity...he needn't have undergone the pain. Stupid creatures.

Well, it didn't matter now, he reflected, raising his wand to the heavens. He whispered a few choice words, and watched as two silvery gray forms materialized there, heads bent towards the ground. One had long curly hair, the other had a pair of spectacles and a hooked nose. Their eyes were pure white with no pupils, a downside to the experiment, he knew, but perhaps no one would notice. Of course, no one would notice...they'd be too caught up in their precious loved ones to care. "Go," he murmured, swishing his wand towards the wall, and the forms went, drifting listlessly on the air, until they were gone through the wall and out of sight. He watched them as they went, thinking of how it must go from there, thinking of the little red headed girl, the unfinished business, the plot, and of Harry Potter, the boy who lived, and who must not live again.

Beautiful, he thought. Ginny will come to me soon...how can she resist? Every night she dreams of her poor brother...and of me, there...and when she thinks she sees his ghost, they'll be no stopping her. She'll come, all prepared to avenge the wrongs committed here...and then I'll be able to finish it...just like a novel that needs the last few pages written. I'm soon to finish my novel, the one of the rise of the young Lord Voldemort back to power...What was the name of that emotion again, the one which caused them all to be so stupidly courageous?

Oh yes...of course...love.