Crimson Ink

Dear Charlie,

It's been absolutely hectic lately. I'm just so exhausted with everyone and everything... I haven't the slightest idea what to do. I'm sure Mum's written you about the whole thing. Just don't believe everything she says, you don't know the whole story. Whether or not you're ever going to know the whole story, I haven't decided yet. It'd be so nice to confess all this to someone.

But then again, that's what got me into this whole mess in the first place, isn't it? Wanting to confess things to people. That's how Tom found me, listened to me, gained my trust, betrayed me, made me do horrible things to other people, things that made me feel sick inside... I hate him for it.

So why do I miss him so much?

As horrible as he was to me, I have to admit that he was a good friend. He actually listened to me - so it was for his own twisted plans, big deal. I feel like I don't ever get paid attention to. It's not like you people ignore me; just the attention you give isn't the right kind.

Anyway, school's out. Mum and Dad finally left me alone after badgering me for a week, if I agreed to a condition. I was so tired of them, I said I'd do it, even though I didn't know what they wanted. Looking back, that probably wasn't one of the smartest things I could have said. But they left. They gave me my peace.

They were just so annoying. I know they mean well, and it's for my own good and all that, but it sure doesn't feel like it. They made me stay in the hospital wing even after I got better, just sitting there with those looks on their faces and asking, "Why, Ginny, why?" So many hard questions I couldn't answer. Then the next day it was Voldemort, and how the Ministry was stupid and should've demolished him long ago, and that they were going to kill him themselves for messing with me. Day after that, it was all my fault again, how could I have been so stupid to trust something like that, I should have gone to an adult as soon as it started writing back... Over and over again until I just couldn't take anymore, I wanted to kill them, or me, or anyone, just so I could get out.

And the worst part of all, I wasn't at all sure that I agreed with what they were saying. Sure, it was my fault, but I didn't happen to think it was a bad thing. Sure, Tom tricked me, but he didn't do anything that horrible, nobody died, everyone who got hurt got better...

Oh, what am I saying? Am I actually defending him?

I felt so much better after they left, like a whole new person. Ron and the twins didn't torment me at all, really. Guess Fred and George were so worried that they didn't even tease me. Percy gave me some reproachful looks, opened his mouth to lecture me, I'm sure, but I stopped all that when I told him I'd tell them all he was snogging Penelope in an empty classroom if he didn't shut it. He flushed bright red, and I could see him clenching and unclenching his fists, like he does when he's really mad. But I think he's hurt underneath too, it's just the way he acts to hide it. I hope I didn't upset him too much. I'm just so tired of being told by everyone what's right and what's wrong and what I should have and shouldn't have done.

I told them anyway, we had a good laugh about that in the train. Harry looked sort of distressed when we left the school, like he knew something wasn't quite right, deep in the back of his head, but he wasn't sure what it was. Was terrified for a moment there that he'd figure out what it was, but he didn't, and by the time we started moving, it seemed he had forgotten all about it.

It's my first whole day home now, and I don't know whether to feel relieved or... well, upset. I cried for half an hour straight last night, and I haven't the slightest clue why, I guess I was just so tormented by it all. Then this morning, when I woke up, I felt like nothing at all could ever make me cry again.

I think it has something to do with Tom. I was just so dependent on him this past year, telling him everything, waiting for his advice, that I don't really feel whole, now that he's gone. I fully expect to look on my bedside table, see his diary, and have a conversation with him every night before I go to sleep. It feels so weird not doing it... When I have problems, even little ones, I turn to that diary, before I realize that it's not there anymore.

Guess I'll just have to deal with that.

Love,

Ginny

~

"We want you to see a therapist," said Arthur Weasley seriously the next morning at breakfast.

Ginny stared at him, completely forgetting about the chunk of pancake she had speared on her fork only moments earlier. It fell to her plate, splashing into the puddle of syrup.

"Hey!" exclaimed Ron, being hit by the splatter of sugar.

"You want me to what?" asked Ginny, mouth dropped open in disbelief. She rubbed her eyes with her hands, as if it were all some dream she hadn't quite woken up from.

"A therapist, dear" said Molly, bustling over to the table with a platter of sausages. "We think you'd be better off for it. That incident with that Riddle boy," and here she shuddered, "can't have been good for you."

"But Mum!" protested Ginny, jumping up and knocking over her juice. "I don't need a therapist! I'm perfectly fine! Normal and everything!"

"Oh, but that's what the crazy ones say, too," said Molly, retrieving a towel wiping up her mess. "Really dear, be a little more careful. I've been reading up on it."

"But you've seen me!" she argued. "I haven't been doing anything odd! You can even ask Ron and them, they'll tell you!"

"She really hasn't," mumbled Ron, mouth full of eggs.

"That is, if you don't count her midnight wanderings," piped George.

"Really freaky, she looks possessed and everything!" agreed Fred.

"Ginny!" exclaimed Molly. "See what I mean?"

"Relax Mum, we were just joking around," said Fred. "Didn't mean anything by it."

"She really has been acting perfectly normal," said George.

Molly shook her head at them. "Percy?" she asked.

Ginny's eyes darted to her brother, who stared back at her rather sadly over horn-rimmed glasses. Oh no, she thought, feeling a cloud of dread overcoming her.

"She has been acting a little more different than usual," he said crisply, as he sliced up his sausages. "I can't quite put my finger on what it is... but she doesn't seem to be the same as she was last year."

"See, this is what I mean!" cried Molly triumphantly. "You don't think you're acting oddly, but Percy has just confirmed that you have. You're seeing a therapist dear, and there's nothing you can do about it."

She glared ruefully at her brother, who refused to meet her gaze.

"Are you sure you ought to trust him?" she burst out suddenly. She had just been hit with an idea, she could do something about it, she could tell her mother something about Percy that might just change her mind.

"Why shouldn't I trust him, dear?" asked Molly. "He's never lied to me in his life."

"Oh," said Ginny, turning her head to his brother, willing him to meet her eyes. He looked up as he began to understand what she meant to do, and he pleaded with her silently.

Tough luck for you then, she thought in her head. You should have thought of that before you decided to tell Mum I was off my rocker.

"Has he told you about his girlfriend then?" she asked out loud, relishing her brother's reaction as he heard her words.

"Girlfriend?" said Molly. "Don't be silly, Ginny, Percy doesn't have a girlfriend. He would have told me about her if he had."

"Her name is Penelope Clearwater," Ginny said evenly. "Percy's been sneaking around at Hogwarts so he can go snog her in empty classrooms."

Molly turned on him. "Percy, is this true?"

"Yes, Mum," said Percy, looking down, his face bright red.

"Why I never!" said Molly, throwing her hands up in the air. "How long have you been seeing this girl? Why didn't you tell us you liked her? Why did you feel the need to hide her from us?"

Ginny took this chance to slip away. Serves you right, she thought angrily. Don't think you can do things like that to me and get away with it.

~

Dear Charlie,

I can't believe he just did that. I can't believe he did that to me. I mean, this is Percy! I've always thought he was on my side! Ever since you and Bill left for Hogwarts, I've kind of clung to him; he's the one who got me really into reading.

Guess he thinks this is for my own good, just like Mum does. I should've known. When it comes down to a battle between me and her, he's always on her side.

I talked to him about it afterwards too. Asked him just why he had to do that to me. D'you know what he said?

"You aren't the same person. The old Ginny wouldn't have blackmailed her own brother. And then told Mum about it anyway."

And then he stalked off! Can you believe that? Those were his exact words. Blackmail indeed, I did nothing of the sort! And why does he care so much about who knows about him and Penelope? She's in Ravenclaw, she's a prefect, Mum would love her!

But Mum has always loved anything Percy's done. Or anyone he's brought home. At least, she would love the people he brought home if he bothered to bring anyone home. She's been so understanding of him, when you see her talking to him, you'd have no idea of how short-tempered she is with the rest of us. Just because he's obedient and he's smart and he's a prefect.

What's so good about being one anyway? I'd rather be captain of the Quidditch team or something, like you were. It sounds like a much funner job.

Sometimes I wish I were smart. Not that I'm stupid or anything, but I wish I could be smart without working at it. It seems like that would solve all the world's problems. Then I would've been able to figure out what Tom was doing before it got out of hand, maybe do some research like Hermione always does.

It sounds like I'm jealous of him, doesn't it? I'm not! He's just making me so mad, with how he can get away with everything, even though he never does anything he has to get away with.

Why does he have to do this? It's just making things even more difficult! I've already lost so much of myself this year; does he really want to make it worse? The absolute last thing I want is some therapist poking at my thoughts and trying to figure me out.

I think I actually feel worse than I did when Tom was still here.

Love,

Ginny

~

Ginny got up from her desk, leaving her quill in her bottle of ink, and walked over to the foot of her bed, where she kept her trunk. She rummaged through it, until she found what she was looking for. A velvet bag, buried under piles of papers, cushioned with her robes to make sure it wouldn't break. She carefully lifted it out and pulled at the drawstrings, retrieving what was inside.

It was the silvery sphere Dumbledore had given her. She took it onto her bed, studied it carefully for any signs of how it might work. He hadn't ever told her.

"Show me what it would be like if I were as smart as Percy is," she whispered to it finally. She was unsure of what would happen, or that her instructions would even work, but it was better than nothing.

The fibres at the bottom began to spin as a misty substance rose in the sphere. Ginny gasped as she felt herself dissolve, she couldn't see anything, she was surround by the haze. Then it all began to fade and she felt herself hit solid ground again.

What happened, was her first thought. Did it work? was her second. She would have wondered where she was if she hadn't already known, it was her bedroom and she was on her bed, clutching the little glass orb in her lap just as she had before.

"Ginny!" she heard her mother call from downstairs. "Dinner's ready! Come get your food before it gets cold!"

"All right Mum!" she called back, gently setting the orb down on the bed.

"Oh," she said to herself, rather disappointed. "I guess it didn't work then."

But she was wrong.

~

"There's my little hero," said her father as she walked into the dining room. "How was your day?"

"Er, just fine, thanks," she replied, slightly confused. His little hero? Up until now, she had been positive that they were still furious with her for what had happened.

Fred and George came in and fell to their knees in front of her. She stared at them, even more confused.

"Can it be?" asked George.

"Is it really her?" added Fred.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Ginny, a bit shakily.

"It is! The next Harry Potter!"

"The Girl Who Lived!"

"At this rate, Harry should be the one writing you singing valentines, sis."

"Oh, let her alone boys," intruded Molly, bustling over with a large bowl full of mashed potatoes. "Here dear, your favourite. And sherbert for dessert too. I'm just so proud of you for defeating that devious Riddle boy."

Even Ron was looking at her with open admiration. "Yeah, how you managed to figure out that Riddle was actually a younger version of Voldemort, and you found that spell, even though it was way more than a first year level, and you destroyed him with it!" He slapped her on the back, almost making her fall into her plate. "I wish I could've been there to see it. Serves him right for trying things with you!"

No, I didn't, thought Ginny. What are they talking about? None of this ever happened. I never killed Tom.

Even Percy ruffled her hair affectionately as he walked to his seat at the table. She stared at her older brother in disbelief. He hadn't been speaking to her ever since the Penelope incident. What was going on?

"My baby sister," he said fondly. "You're so smart."

And that was when Ginny finally understood. The glass thing Dumbledore gave her had worked, she just hadn't realized it. This was a world in which she was smart, and that had changed what had happened to her.

Instead of letting her feelings for Tom cloud her better judgment, she had been intelligent enough to research the spells more carefully, and find one that she had actually been able to perform. She had taken that spell and practiced it and memorized it so that when Tom finally did go to get her, she had known what to do. She had destroyed him with it.

And that meant that Tom didn't exist anymore.

She suddenly felt her eyes cloud with tears as it sank in. Tom wasn't there anymore. No more Tom to tell her problems to, no more Tom to cling to when she was upset, no more Tom to offer her solutions to things she couldn't figure out.

She stood up suddenly, her chair clattering to the floor. Her family looked at her in surprise.

"Ginny?" asked her mother, looking very worried. "Is something wrong?"

She wiped away her tears with a sleeve and managed a weak smile. "No, nothing, nothing at all" she answered. "I just forgot to do something, that's all."

And with that she ran upstairs, leaving them all staring after her in bewilderment.

She slammed open the door to her room, checking with a quick glance to make sure everything was still the same. The orb was still on her bed, where she had left it.

She picked it up, and said to it, "Take me back," hoping desperately that it would work. She felt the same melting feeling, saw the mist rising into the glass, and she knew everything would be all right again.

~

Dear Charlie,

I've figured out what to do with that orb thing Dumbledore gave me. And figured out what it does, though he told me vaguely about that.

It kind of takes you to another universe, somehow the same, but different. It lets you see the results of your wishes. You know how I was wondering what it'd be like if I were smart? Well, I told that to the thing, and then there I was, in a world where I was smart.

It changed absolutely everything. Tom didn't exist anymore, I had killed him, and no one was mad at me, everyone was proud of me for doing that. There weren't any cold glances from Percy, no worried comments from Mum and Dad. But it felt off, it felt wrong. Because Tom wasn't there.

You know Charlie, he was right. As much as I hate to admit it, he was right. I'm completely dependent on him, just because he took care of all my problems for so long. And now that he's gone, I really don't know what to do anymore.

I hate him.

Why did he have to do this to me, of all people? Why couldn't he have chosen someone else, like Hermione, or Percy, or Ron, though I wouldn't want to wish it upon any of them. It's just that they would have dealt with it so much better. They would have been able to manage, unlike me.

But really, why me, of all people? It's not like I was of all that much use to him, in the end.

If only I actually hadn't been. I'm just lying to myself, trying to make me feel better by denying what was true. He wanted power. He wanted to break me. He wanted to drag this out, bit by bit, until I just couldn't decide things for myself anymore.

And I let him.

Maybe that therapist thing would be a good idea. I'm too tired to fight them anymore. And I'm just so confused... maybe it would help me figure some things out.

No, that's Tom thinking. That's what he wants me to think.

I'm going to fight this. No matter what it takes, I'm going to fight this.

Love,

Ginny

~

"So, Ginny, do you know why you're here today?"

Ginny glared sullenly at the therapist, whose name was Dr. Ice, and who her parents had assured her would be lovely. They didn't have to come see her.

She had done everything in her power to convince them that there was nothing wrong with her. She had behaved perfectly that first day, staying in her room and quietly reading, doing everything they asked, then she had overheard her mother at dinner saying that this couldn't be right, Ginny never behaved like this, she was being affected by what had happened to her.

So the next day she had spent the day outside playing Quidditch with Fred, George and Ron, rather, she stayed on the ground and threw balls at them, since Molly wouldn't let her on a broom, her head wasn't on right, what if she hurt herself?

She had pleaded and begged and thought up all sorts of excuses. "It's expensive," she said, "we don't have the money for it. Why waste it on this when there's so many other things we can use it for?"

Her mother had turned on her angrily. "This is not a waste! This is for your own good! Your sanity is important to us, if this will help you, then we'll pay as much as we need! I'm sure they'll give us some time to meet the payment," she added as an afterthought.

Ginny had smiled. She had planted a seed of doubt in her mother's head.

And then her father had to come in and ruin all that. "I've won I've won I've won!" he had shouted.

"Won what?" his wife asked, diverted from lecturing Ginny.

"The annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw!" he shouted. "Seven hundred Galleons! I rushed home as soon as I heard!" He grabbed his wife and twirled her around.

"Oh Arthur, this is wonderful!"

"I'm going to tell the boys," he said. "They'll probably be happy about this." He rushed off, still cheering.

Molly Weasley turned back to her daughter, who was staring at her glumly. "Isn't this wonderful, Ginny? Now we won't have to worry about the costs of your therapy! I'm sure there'll be more than enough to pay for that. And we can probably take a little vacation with the leftover money!"

"Just great, Mum."

Then Ginny had just given it all up, no matter what she did, it wasn't like her mother was really going to change her mind anyway. She had just waited until the day of her appointment had come and begged and pleaded, and when they didn't listen, she let them drag her, kicking and screaming, to the doors of the lady who would be analyzing her thoughts.

Molly was horrified. "Ginny!" she had hissed angrily. "You're making a scene!"

Ginny didn't care. They dragged her to St. Mungo's. She could act any way she felt like acting.

Even as she got carried through the halls, she was frightened. The walls were white, the floor was white, the doors were white, and it was pure white too, not the kind of off-white you sometimes saw. It gave Ginny the impression that she was being led through a giant snowstorm.

And that was when she saw the sign on the door. Enter here for Dr. Ice and Dr. Snow. She had to stifle a giggle then, wondering whether it was a coincidence or whether they had done it purposely.

Arthur dropped her to the floor and held one of her hands tightly, Molly had the other, to make sure she didn't run away. The door opened into a large waiting room. The walls were lined with chairs, and in the middle was a large wooden desk. At which sat a bored looking secretary who was scribbling things down on a notepad and popping bubble gum. A little name tag on the desk identified her to be Miss Pele.

Molly went up to the desk, leaving Ginny behind. "We're here to see a therapist," she said.

Miss Pele rolled her eyes, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Which one?" she asked. "Dr. Ice or Dr. Snow?"

Molly hesitated a moment. "Um..."

"Who's the patient?"

"My daughter Ginny," replied Molly.

"That'll be Dr. Ice then. You see, Dr. Lavender Ice specializes in child patients, while Dr. Kelsi Snow takes care of the adults," explained the secretary. She got up from her perch and handed a clipboard to Molly. "Just fill that out, she'll see you in a moment."

She has awful shoes, Ginny had thought.

She was bumped out of her thoughts when Dr. Ice cleared her throat, a little louder than necessary. "Let me repeat my question," she said. " Do you know why you're here today?"

Ginny continued to glare.

Dr. Ice sighed and leafed through her papers. "According to this, you've had quite a traumatic experience this year."

Ginny didn't say anything.

She sighed again. "You know, Ginny, I do hope we can be friends. You can call me Lavender, if you'd like. I just wish you'd tell me something, anything, that could help me figure out why your mother thinks you need help."

"I don't go spilling my secrets to strangers," said Ginny maliciously.

"No, you just go spilling them to past memories of Dark Lords," replied Dr. Ice, in the same tone.

Ginny's mouth fell open.

"Don't think I don't know about that," the therapist said nastily. "You think you've kept your little secret so well, well guess what, Ginny? You haven't."

"W-w-w-who told you?" she managed to stutter.

"Your mother," Dr. Ice replied. "And I think I've managed to find out something that would horrify her. You liked it, didn't you?"

"Liked what?"

"Why, that diary of yours. What it told you to do. When you were told to strangle roosters, Petrify people, paint threatening messages on the walls. You liked it, didn't you? You liked that feeling of reckless abandon, of doing something that wasn't right and perfect for once. You liked..." and here she trailed off, because there was no longer anyone listening.

Ginny had run out and slammed the door.

~

She trudged up the stairs opened the door to her room, feeling more drained than she had in ages. No, that wasn't quite true, she had felt this horrible when Tom had been stealing her energy in bits and snatches. But somehow, this felt worse.

She fell onto her bed, feeling like she would burst into tears any moment now. Her head turned to her desk, wondering briefly if she should try and write to Charlie, that always made her feel better.

And what she saw made her gasp.

"Hello sweetie," said Tom, perched on her desk lazily, looking better than ever. "Aren't you glad to see me?"