Crimson Ink

Dear Charlie,

I did it. I’ve gotten rid of him. Well, the more physical part of him. But for some reason, I can still hear his voice in my head. It just won’t go away.

He’s taunting me. Telling me that I’m going to regret it any second, that I’m going to run back and get his diary any second now because I can’t stand to be apart from him.

And the scariest thing is, I’m starting to believe him. I wake up in the middle of the night and find myself halfway down the corridors, heading towards Myrtle’s bathroom. It’s like he’s controlling my subconscious mind. When I’m asleep, I just can’t manage myself anymore; he takes over. I’ve never sleepwalked before. And yet, I find myself doing that almost every night.

That is, when I can sleep. Usually, I just lie awake for hours, staring at the roof of my bed. Trying to make pictures out of the little crinkles in the fabric, like people try to make pictures out of the clouds. Sometimes I see the Sorting Hat, sometimes the house emblems, sometimes the Burrow…I could go on listing them forever. But no matter what I see, the images always turn into his face.

I can see Tom so clearly. The taunting blue eyes, the sneering mouth, the deathly pale skin…that one lock of hair that always dangles over his face; the rest of his hair, which is always in this perfect balance between messy and neat. What am I saying? He’s not horrible at all. He always looks so angelic; I can’t believe someone so perfect would say such horrible things.

And he is perfect. He’s gorgeous, he’s brilliant, he’s funny and witty and absolutely dazzling. I can’t believe I ever gave him up. To think that me, Ginny Weasley, was in the presence of that angel, and that I tossed him aside like yesterday’s trash. I must have something horribly wrong with me!

I didn’t deserve him. And yet he still put up with me, after everything I said to him. I feel so bad.

I am going to out there and find him again. Maybe if I apologize to him, he’ll be kind enough to take me back. I’ll do that. The moment this headache goes away.

Love,

Ginny

Dear Charlie,

Just completely ignore everything I wrote to you yesterday. I just read it over, now that my head is clear, and I’m a daft fool. I wasn’t myself yesterday. It was Tom again. Was he controlling me? Or was he just writing the whole thing?

I can’t tell the difference anymore. I swear, Charlie, I’m losing my mind. At least I don’t have that troublesome headache anymore. It’s gone away. And hopefully, he will too, with time.

I wish I could tell someone. Well, someone other than you, as I still haven’t sent this bundle of letters, and you’re probably never going to find out about this until it’s all over. Me being the way I am.

Why won’t he leave me alone? I’m not of any use to him. I don’t know any complicated spells, I don’t have any connections in the Ministry, why, I’m not even close to Harry, so there’s no way he can hurt Harry through me.

And another thing, how can he still be here? His diary is no longer with me, doesn’t that mean he shouldn’t be here either? I suppose I’ll have to go do some research in the library. I wonder if I can ask Hermione to help without her asking me why I need the information.

I’ve got to run. Going to be late for class.

Love,

Ginny

Dear Charlie,

I know I shouldn’t be doing this right now, since I’ve got to run down to the dungeons in fifteen minutes, but breakfast was absolutely hysterical. Happy Valentine’s Day by the way.

Professor Lockhart – I’ve told you about him, right? – felt the need to organize a very special celebration for us… Complete with pink all over the Great Hall and dwarves (at least I think they’re dwarves) delivering valentines. Singing valentines.

The pink decorations are rather annoying. I like the colour, but only in small amounts. It looks like he drenched the place in pink lemonade.

Somehow, I don’t think he planned this with the teachers, as most of them looked ready to murder him, especially Professor Snape. For once, I actually agree with him. It would be so nice to kick Professor Lockhart out of the school. It’s such a shame Professor Dumbledore is the only one who can make that decision.

But somehow, I found myself caught up in the excitement. I blame it completely on my friends. They liked the idea of the valentines; in fact, they liked it so much that they even managed to get me to send one. To Harry.

I think I’ve lost my mind. And for once, it’s not at all on account of Tom.

Why did I do that? Why why why? After he sees it, he’s going to hate me even more!

Unless he doesn’t… Maybe when he sees it, he’ll fall in love with me and sweep me off my feet and carry me off to some magnificent castle in the distance like in those romance novels Mum’s always reading…

I’m hoping for the best while expecting for the worst. Is that even possible?

Expect me back later to tell you of all my childish woes.

Love,

Ginny

Dear Charlie,

I can’t believe I said they were childish woes earlier, at the moment, I can’t think of anything else more tragic.

My valentine got delivered all right, during the break between afternoon classes. Absolutely everyone was there. I don’t know how that hallway was so crowded.

I felt so sorry for Harry. And for me too. I really shouldn’t have listened to my friends. I think that incident just might be the most humiliating in my life. Out of what’s happened in my life so far, at least.

It might have been a tad better if he hadn’t tried to escape. Although I’m quite sure I’d have done the same thing. Those dwarves are very determined creatures. The one coming after Harry looked like delivering that valentine was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do, but he still did it.

So anyways, the dwarf tackled Harry, and sat on his ankles, while what seemed like the whole school gathered around to watch. And then the dwarf started singing – in a horrible voice, I might add – the little rhyme I had scribbled down this morning. And somehow, everyone seemed to know that I had done it.

And then Draco Malfoy started taunting Harry, and making snide remarks about me…Oh Charlie, I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear on the spot. I think would have shut myself up in captivity and never have come out had it not been for one thing.

I saw the diary. Tom’s diary. Harry had it. He still has it.

What if Tom told? What if he wanted to get back at me for throwing him away, so he went and told Harry everything I said about him? And so now Harry knows that I like him…well, he already knew that. But now he knows exactly how much I like him.

I shouldn’t have been so wretched to Tom. Maybe then, he would have kept everything I said a secret. And not have told Harry.

But maybe he didn’t tell. Maybe he was good…and kind…and knew how I would have felt if he did tell, so he was thoughtful and didn’t. And then Harry wouldn’t know.

Oh, what’re the chances of that? Tom’s not considerate at all… He’d betray his own family if he thought it would get him further in life. And I’m not even family. We parted so angrily. He was pleading me all along and I didn’t listen to a word he said. He’s probably furious at me…

Definitely furious enough to tell Harry what my innermost thoughts are. So that Harry will know and get embarrassed and never ever speak to me again...but I don’t want that to happen at all!

I hate boys! This whole thing has gotten me in such a predicament and it’s all their faults! I never want to speak to another male as long as I live!

But that would include Harry…

I’m all confused now. What am I supposed to do?

Just to let you know, Charlie, so you don’t get mad at me or anything, that comment about hating boys didn’t apply to you at all. I barely think of you as one of them. You’re more like…one of my friends that I can pour my heart out to.

At least one thing’s clear in this muddled up world. I have to get that diary back. And soon. Before Harry finds out more things I don’t want him to know.

Love,

Ginny

Dear Charlie,

I’m so utterly frustrated. I haven’t the slightest clue of where he might have placed the thing, or whether he’s used it to talk to Tom yet. Hopefully, he hasn’t figured out how. It didn’t take me all that long, but I was the kind that had always wanted a diary. And he doesn’t seem like that type.

I don’t know what I’m going to do.

He’s so exasperating! He and Ron and Hermione, always sitting in the common room, their heads together, whispering about secret plans they won’t ever reveal to the world. I feel even worse now than I did before. At least then I had Tom.

And I’m sure they never ever mention that blasted diary.

What I need to do is find a tracking spell. To track the diary, obviously. Except that I think you might need traces of the object you plan on tracking…so that might not work so well.

I want to scream.

Harry can’t have Tom. He’s mine. He’s special. He makes me special. I can’t stand the thought of sharing him with someone, even if it is Harry. Even if he was rather horrible to me in the first place, I don’t care.

I can’t deny it any longer. I’m jealous.

What does Harry have that I don’t have? Why is Tom choosing to stay with him, rather than me? I mean, he could always tell Harry that it’s mine. And under normal circumstances, Harry would give it back.

But maybe he doesn’t want Harry to give it back. Maybe he even likes Harry. And not just as a friend either.

I’m being delusional, aren’t I? Part of me tells me I am, but the other part wants to believe these most-likely lies I’m spinning.

I hope with all my heart that it isn’t true.

And the thing is, I can’t exactly ask Harry for it back either. Because, it’s not polite, and besides, if he has figured out how to work it, then Ron and Hermione probably know, and if Ron knows that his little sister is keeping a magic diary, he’d freak.

And then he’d tell Mum and Dad, and possibly Fred and George and Percy and everyone else…and my situation would get even worse.

I’m trapped. The only thing I can do is steal it back.

Which can’t be all that hard…

Oh, who am I kidding? Certainly not myself…

As long as I formulate a well thought out plan, I shouldn’t get caught. And I should be able to get the diary back. And have Tom with me again.

Except that I’m horrible at formulating well thought out plans. That’s Fred and George’s specialty.

Besides, plans take time. And time is something I just don’t have.

Love,

Ginny

Dear Charlie,

I really ought to be more careful. I almost got caught today. Thank goodness it was Seamus that came in, and not Ron or Harry. I managed to convince him that Ron had taken something of mine, and I was merely trying to get it back. He laughed and said he understood perfectly.

Though I have to say, I’m becoming quite a good liar.

It’s the third time I’ve tried. The first time was in the middle of the night, and I couldn’t use any kind of light source, because then I would wake them all up. So I was creeping around in the dark. Then I crashed into someone’s trunk. And made a loud noise. And everyone woke up. So I ran away.

I was lucky none of them saw me.

The second time was in the daytime. And I had seen Harry and Ron leave already, so I figured it was safe to go in. Except Dean was down with a cold. And of course, he was wondering what I was doing there. I couldn’t think of a thing then; my mind went absolutely blank. So I said the first thing that came into my head: I told him that I was looking for Harry.

Absolutely huge mistake there. He gave me one of those knowing grins that made me blush as red as my hair, I’m sure, and said that Colin and I should form a Harry Potter fan club.

Which isn’t quite a bad idea actually. I’ll have to go talk to him about that sometime.

Just not now. Because I have more important things to do.

Why is there always somebody in that blasted dormitory? It’s like they never leave the place!

At least Dean hasn’t told Harry. I think. Since Harry hasn’t been going out of his way to avoid me lately. He even said "hi" to me in the hall yesterday. And much to my embarrassment, I would’ve fallen down if Colin hadn’t been there to help me. My legs just couldn’t support me anymore.

But Charlie, I’m scared. I think I’m beginning to forget Tom. Not forget about him, but forget him. I can barely remember what he looks like anymore. I see his pale skin and night black hair, but the moment I try to imagine his face, I can’t. It’s just blank.

And I don’t hear his voice in my head anymore. I know, I used to think it was a good thing, that since I couldn’t hear him, he couldn’t taunt me. But I miss it now.

It’s strange how all those sappy old songs Mum listens to are true. You never miss anything until it’s taken away from you.

I feel slightly better now that I’ve told everything to you. Thanks for listening. Even though you’re not really listening and I’m just talking to myself. But I always felt I could count on you and Bill. You two always made my problems go away.

Once I get Tom back, I’m never throwing him away again.

Love,

Ginny

Dear Charlie,

Finally! I’ve got him in my hands! Granted, it took me absolutely forever to do it, but he’s here. And I’m completely and utterly ecstatic.

I wonder if he knows he’s no longer with Harry. I don’t know… there was just something about him that made me think that he knew about positively everything that went on in the outside world, even though he was trapped in that little diary of his.

Trapped…I wonder if he placed himself in there or if some evil wizard did it as some act of revenge.

There’s so much I don’t know about him still. He’s just so secretive. I do wish he would let me into his head. I could help him deal with whatever he’s hiding behind all those walls he’s put up.

I don’t know anyone could be so exasperatingly calm all the time. Even when there’s a life-threatening crisis, he’s still as cool as a cucumber. I hate it.

I’m so nervous. What if he doesn’t like me? What if he’s mad at me from taking him away from Harry? What if he’s forgotten all about me?

No, no, no! Stop it! Bad Ginny! I can’t keep thinking these negative thoughts. Then they might come true, and I’ll get so nervous that I’ll have stolen him back for nothing.

Which, by the way, was pure luck on my part. I finally managed to catch a day when they were all out.

I knew Harry went off to Quidditch practice, and I had seen Ron and the others all down in the Great Hall, eating their dinners. I figured it would take them forever to get back up, since there were millions of desserts that night, and all of them love sweets.

I hadn’t the slightest clue where Harry had put it. I had gone through his drawers and through everyone else’s drawers. I’d looked in his bag, on his nightstand, even under their mattresses and through their closets. I was in the middle of searching his trunk when I heard a noise.

It was Ron, Seamus, and Dean.

Oh Charlie, I froze. I almost forgot what I was there to do. I was so scared that they were going to catch me again, I had just about used up all the excuses my mind could think of. I’ve been caught so many times before, I swear, they’re joking about my loving Harry behind his back. Or maybe to his face. Hopefully he doesn’t know.

Luckily, they went away again. Seamus told them he had forgotten something back in the Great Hall, and Ron and Dean went back with him to look for it.

Now I finally understand what people mean when they say their heart is running away from them.

I tried to be faster, I really did, but I think Harry meant to hide the thing. I finally found it at the bottom of his trunk, after I practically destroyed their dormitory.

And then I just ran. I didn’t even check to see if there was anyone paying attention to me. Which probably would have been the smart thing to do, but I didn’t even think of it at the time.

So now I have him, finally. As I’ve said already, I’m delighted.

I only hope he’s as glad to see me as I am to see him.

Love,

Ginny

~

Tom?

Oh. Ginny. It’s you.

How did you know it was me?

Sweetie, don’t you know better at all? After all this time you’ve known me…I make it my business to find out about everything that goes on around me.

Oh…right…I’m happy to see you.

After you threw me away like that?

I said I was sorry.

No, actually, you didn’t.

It’s partly your own fault you know! If you hadn’t been so bloody horrid to me, I wouldn’t have done it in the first place!

That’s exactly like you. Always blaming everything on everyone else.

It was! You know, you’re being typical too. Nothing is ever your fault!

Precisely my point, Ginny dear.

You know, I’m glad I threw you away! I should have left you there longer! If only I hadn’t been stupid enough to actually miss you!

You…missed me?

Of course I did, you stupid prick! You were my friend. I liked you. And then you had to go and start being all mean and break my trust!

Sweetie…I had no idea…please don’t cry…

How…How did you know I was crying?

Your tears are dripping onto my pages, you know.

You don’t have to sound so smug!

I’m not being smug…

Of course you’re not…

Really Ginny, there’s no need for sarcasm.

…

Tom?

Yes?

I’m glad you’re back.

Really?

Really.

Oh…I’ve never had anyone miss me before.

Truly? That’s so sad!

The past is gone. There’s no good done to dwell on it.

Why’s the page all wet?

Erm…when I yawn, my eyes water…and I’m tired….

Oh!

Oh what? I don’t like the sound of that.

You’re crying!

No, Ginny, I’m not crying.

Really Tommy, that’s nothing to be ashamed about. Everyone cries at one time or another. Even the strongest people in the world cry when something sad happens.

I’m not everyone.

Still, you don’t need to be embarrassed in front of me… Can I see you?

What do you mean? You’ve seen me already.

In your memory type things, yes. Never in real life. Not yet anyways.

And you think I can do that? I am a memory.

Well, since you can do all other sorts of complicated spells, why can’t you manage this one too? It shouldn’t be that hard for someone who’s as brilliant as you.

Flattery will get you nowhere, sweetie.

It wasn’t flattery. You’re the most brilliant person I know, except for maybe Hermione. Or Bill. He was Head Boy, you know. Or maybe Percy.

What makes you think I’m so brilliant?

Did you put yourself in that diary?

Answering a question with another?

Just answer me first.

Fine. Yes I did.

You found a spell to keep a memory of yourself in that diary forever. If that’s not brilliant, I don’t know what is.

Not forever.

No?

It depends what you define as forever.

What would happen if your diary was ever destroyed? Would you be gone too?

Memories can’t be destroyed sweetie. I just wouldn’t have a physical form anymore. And I would float around, roaming the world, just like ghosts do.

I though ghosts could only haunt a certain place.

Some. Others can wander.

Roaming the world…that sounds like something out of a tragic romance novel.

And you read tragic romance novels? Tsk tsk…I would’ve thought that you were above that.

I take a peek at Mum’s sometimes. That’s all.

If you say so…

I think I’ll go to bed now. I’m getting awfully tired.

Don’t go just yet. I have a surprise for you.

You do? That’s so sweet!

Please don’t start on that sappy romance junk with me. I’m the reason you’re getting tired, you know.

You are? What’ve you been doing to me?!

There’s no need to be angry. I’ve merely been taking bits and pieces of your energy. Absorbing it, if you will. Really, there’s no harm done at all. You’ll feel as good as new in the morning.

And you’ve been doing this without my permission?

You did say you wanted to see me. I figured that counted as permission. You know we memory types can’t do a thing unless we get invited.

See you? Does this mean-

I need some form of energy to make me a body, you know. Can’t just appear out of thin air. Even magic isn’t that powerful.

So why aren’t you appearing yet?

Hush. Have some patience. It takes me some time to do the spell.

I’ve never been patient in my life. What makes you think I’ll start now?

If you want to see me….

~

Ginny shut up. And waited.

And then he appeared.

It wasn’t quite out of nowhere, as she had thought it would be. More, out of the diary, which she had left open on her desk. His head appeared, in a rather hazy form, and floated upwards, the rest of his body following. The haze around him slowly disappeared as he became more solid, until finally, the transformation was complete, and he was sitting cross-legged on her desk.

Ginny gaped. And gaped some more.

He chuckled. "Sweetie, what are you staring at? You look like a fish. One of those really daft ones. Who just stare at things with their mouths open all day and wait for the smaller fish to swim into their mouths so they can eat them."

She gaped some more. Her mouth hung open, her eyes almost bulging as he looked on with an amused grin. And then, clearing her throat nervously, a deep blush creeping up to her face, she spoke.

"Erm…Tommy? Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?"

~

"I’m sorry about that," he said apologetically after she had hurriedly ran and gotten him a towel from the washroom. He now had it loosely wrapped around his waist, and didn’t seem to care at all that he wasn’t decently dressed. "I didn’t realize that clothes wouldn’t come as part of the spell until it was too late."

"That’s…all right…" said Ginny, rather absent-mindedly. She still couldn’t get that earlier image of him out of her head.

He smirked, seeing how flustered she was. "Anything wrong, Ginny dear?"

"No… no, no," she protested, turning even redder. "Nothing at all."

He hopped off the desk he was sitting on, and spread himself comfortably on her bed. "Good. I wouldn’t want you embarrassed now, seeing me in such a state. I mean, if I didn’t care at all, why should you?"

She plopped down beside him, her hand brushing the towel down so it wouldn’t reveal anything he might not want to reveal. "I really did miss you, you know."

"I know," he replied, sitting back up. "You’re always sincere about everything you say."

"That’s what you think. You wouldn’t have believed the trouble I went through to get you back. And all the lies I had to tell, even if they weren’t exactly huge." She nestled her head down comfortably on his shoulder. "They sure felt that way at the time."

He gently loped his arm around her shoulder. "But really, did you hate it so much?"

She thought about it for a minute, and hesitated with her answer. "Truthfully, no. I actually enjoyed it, in a way. It was sort of exciting, getting away with it."

"That’s what I thought. Nobody’s that perfect."

"Shut up. Did you enjoy being with Harry?"

"If I tell you, I’m not really shutting up, am I?"

"You know what I mean. Just answer the question."

"It wasn’t that bad, I suppose. I found out a bit about him."

"Did you tell him anything?"

Tom laughed. "If you’re implying that I told him any of the secrets you told me, then no. I’m not that unreliable. Really sweetie, anything said between you and me in those sessions are strictly confidential. And they always will be." He paused for a moment. "What did you want to see me for anyway?"

She wrapped her arms around him in a hug, now not the slightest bit ashamed that he didn’t have a shirt on. And Tom stared.

He supposed it was a rather nice feeling, but it was another one of those that he had never experience before. And never really expected to experience.

And then slowly, he felt his arms moving to envelop her, rather self-consciously.

"Tommy?" she whispered, already snuggled on his lap, as it was easier for her to hug him that way than any other way.

"What?" he whispered back. The way she was lying, his face was inches from her hair and he could smell the cinnamony shampoo she surely used.

"Thanks for doing this for me." She yawned and her eyes fluttered shut, deep in sleep, her arms still wrapped loosely around her neck.

He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead, as not to wake her, and stayed until his form once again faded to a memory.

And when she woke up in the morning, her recollection of the night before was almost like a dream.