Phantom Shadows

Phantom ShadowsPrologueIn Dreams He Came    In sleep he sang to me,In dreams he came,That voice which calls to me,And speaks my name,And do I dream againFor night is blind,The Phantom of the Opera is here,Inside my mind...~ The Phantom of the Opera  

Ginny Weasley closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to run down her cheeks. She was up in the fourth year girl's dormitory, lying on her bed. She had claimed that she was sick and cut out from Charms as fast as she could. And she had felt sick then, too. Taking one last look at the sheet of parchment that she held in her hand, she crumpled it up and pointed her wand at it,

"Incendio." she muttered and the parchment burst into flames. But it still didn't help her. Still didn't change the fact that it was the fifth - or was it sixth? - test that she had failed. She watched as the ball of parchment flamed, then burnt out and ashes drifted to the floor. She sat down on her bed, looking miserably down at her shoes, gently kicking the floor with her right foot. It was the second month of school, 6th October to be exact and she was having more difficulty this year than ever. It wasn't because the work was hard, but because she was too distracted. Distracted by the news that the Dark Lord was back.

Although it wasn't really him she was worried about. It was the younger version of him. Although she knew it was ridiculous that Tom Riddle could come back, some part of her, deep down, believed that he could. And what scared her most about it was that there was some tiny, smidgen inside of her that actually wanted him back. She had nightmares about his returning - ever since her first year - but she had never told anyone. Afraid that they would think her weak, she had kept the dreams bottled up inside of her. And now, they were coming more often. There was scarcely a night that Ginny didn't wake up, heart pounding and eyes wide, scared of the images she had seen in her mind. Scared to return to the land of slumber, the fourteen-year-old wouldn't be able to sleep any more that night. Deprived of sleep had caused a decline in her concentration and note-taking which led to her recent test failures.

Yawning, Ginny kicked off her shoes and leaned back on her bed. Her eyelids were so heavy - a few minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt. After all, she reasoned while checking her watch, Charms won't be over for another fifty minutes yet.It'll be all right to get some sle....

She was asleep before she hit the pillow.

Unbeknownst to Ginny Weasley, there were a pair of eyes watching her. At the window there sat an owl. Its feathers were obsedian with a slight blue-ish tinge. The animal looked underfed and slightly sick. It almost seemed to resemble a raven more than an owl. Its sharp golden eyes glanced around the room. It flew in and circled - once, twice, three times - before leaving. However, the owl's visit was not without purpose. On it's thrid circle of the room, it had passed right over top of the sleeping girl and dropped a small, black thing that landed beside her.

Ginny mumbled something in her sleep and a breeze blew gently from the open window. The black object now proved to be a book of some kind as the cover blew open in the wind. On the title page, there was one sentence. Property of T. M. Riddle. In slumber, a small, pale hand closed around the diary, shutting it.
 
 
 

It was a peaceful place. Below, the cerulean ocean crashed into the cliff upon which Ginny sat, looking down. The only thing she felt was complete and utter contentment. Perhaps this dream would be different. Perhaps he wouldn't be here. Although she hoped for this, she knew that it wouldn't be true. She knew that he would come along soon. A shiver made its way up her spine. Not from cold, but from fear. Looking up, Ginny saw the sun in a sea of pure blue sky, with only a few clouds dotting it. It seemed like the perfect idyllic place.

"Now all I need is for him to come and ruin it all." Ginny said spitefully to the beautiful landscape. She narrowed her eyes at the sun, as if expecting the aforementioned him to descend from it.

"What makes you think," came a voice. Ginny closed her eyes, wishing for him to go away. "I'll ruin it all?" the voice continued. Never, before she had met him had Ginny thought that a light Welsh accent could sound so threatening with one sentence.

"Now, darling, that's not really fair to assume such." the voice came again. This time, Ginny was sure that he was behind her.

"Go away." she whispered, drawing her knees to her chest and wapping her arms around herself.

"I don't think I shall." a hand was on her cheek now. Cold, icy cold.

"This is just a dream." Ginny whispered. She jerked her head away from the hand, but to no avail. Another hand was placed on her other cheek.

"Is that what you believe?" the voice was harsher now and the hands were pressing hard on her face, "It is, Ginny?"

"Yes." Ginny said, although even to her she sounded weak and unsure. The hands moved from her cheeks to rest loosely around her neck. She shivered, keeping her eyes closed. Just the slightest preassure from those hands with the long, spider-like fingers could cease breath from entering her body. Ginny was sure that's what he wanted. For her to be dead.

"Really?" the voice continued.

"It is a dream!" Ginny insisted, wishing with all of her heart that she could believe that. The hands around her neck increased the preassure and her breath began to become harder to get.

"Open your eyes, Ginny." the voice said, harshness evident and growing.

"No!" Ginny yelped as the preassure on her neck continued to increase. She knew what she would see if she opened her eyes. She would a pale face, almost as pale as death. Twin violet eyes would peer out at her from obsedian eyelashes, contrasting sharply with the paleness of his skin. However, in this case, his eyes were most likely to be red with anger. In front of those colour-changing eyes would fall locks of har so black that it shone with blue-hued highlights.

"Open your damn eyes, Ginny." he said angrily.

Ginny swallowed. It was obvious that is she wanted to live, she would have to open her eyes. Screwing up her courage, she started to open them...
 
 
 

...and saw a ceiling. She blinked a few times, to get the sleep out of her eyes and to ease her confusion. What on earth? she wondered, trying to place where she was. Rubbing her eyes, she realized that she was back in her dormitorty, safe and sound. She quickly sat up, dropping a small object that was in her hand. Her eyes were wide and her heart was racing beneath her ribcage. Her brown eyes darted around the dormitory, looking anxiously for him. When she saw that he wasn't there, she dropped her head in her hands.

"Why won't he leave me alone?" Ginny moaned, rubbing her index finger and thumb over her eyelids lightly. Stopping, she looked up, glancing around the room, "Why won't you leave me the hell alone, Tom Riddle?" she demanded loudly of the empty space.

She could almost hear his reply, Because I like being around you, Ginny. You're a very interesting person...you almost remind me of myself was what he had said back in her first year when she had demanded the same question. She had demanded an answer before he had dragged her down to the Chamber for the final time. "But I'm nothing like you." Ginny whispered aloud, wrapping her arms around herself. She looked down to see the small object that she had held close in slumber.

Looking down at it, Ginny discovered that it was a small, black, leather-bound diary that looked very familiar. Her common sense told her that it was impossible, Harry had destroyed the diary down in the Chamber. He had told her that! She remembered and had clung to that fact for what seemed like forever, as it meant there was no way for Tom Riddle to come back. He was telling the truth, she was sure!

But what if, a nagging little voice spoke up in the back of her head, what if he was only telling you that to try and calm you down? After all, you were hysterical for quite awhile.

Ginny sat, frozen with this thought. As if someone else was controlling her, she opened the diary cover to read the first page.

The words stood out, in crimson ink, as if written in blood: Property of T M Riddle.

Her eyes went wide and her heart seemed to stop beating. Ginny sat there, staring at that one sentence that caused fear to seep into her veins. Her face was chalk-white with shock. The diary slipped from her fingers, falling to the floor as if she had lost the ability to move the limbs.

The diary fell to the ground, its covers closed. However, a stray breeze rustled through the room, causing the front cover to open to the title page upon which those words were written. The red-haired girl started to shake uncontrollably. Backing away from the diary, she quickly got off her bed and backed towards the dormitory door. As soon as she reached the dormitory door, she turned and ran. She hadn't gotten more than two feet when she crashed into someone. A black-haired someone. Tom! her mind yelled at her. She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed as loud as she could.

"Ginny!" came a voice from below, in the common room. Ginny fluttered open her eyes to see her brother running up the stairs. She stared blankly at him for a moment. She tried to call his name, but all that escaped from her throat was a strangled cry. She tried to run towards him, but she tripped. The last thing she saw was the stone staircase that led down to the common room rushing to meet her as she fell.