Over My Head

Chapter 4: Keep it Underneath

Reach, she said, for no one else but you

You won't turn away

When someone else is gone- "Long Day" by Matchbox 20

I went back to my room and started to clean it, for no particular reason other than sheer boredom. I was beginning to notice a theme. Black. It just so happened that everything in the room was black, save the walls because I wasn't allowed to paint them. Even the throw carpets were black, procured from whimpering house-elves. Don't know why they whimpered really. I hadn't even threatened them, though I had thought about it.

So there I was, minding my own business, blasting Elvis Costello as loud as I could without disturbing potential agents of Satan, and cleaning up my room (I guess you can call it that) when SHE walks in.

What other "she" would I be talking about?

"Ginny," she called to me, her voice nonexistent over the blaring music. I turned, saw her, and waved a hand to turn the music off. "Ginny, I think we should talk about our...er...relationship."

"Hermione, don't do this."

"No, I think we should do this." She tried to look determined, but I only saw her as wary and a little scared. "Because, you know, it's very strange, what we do. I mean, I have a... a boyfriend now, but then there's still...this...you."

"This me, eh?"

"Don't talk; I have to get this out." She paused, searching for where she was in her little speech. "You know, I'm happy with Harry, but somehow this works too. I sometimes think that maybe this works more, or better...I'm not sure which is grammatically correct, if either of them is." She stopped again, this time to push the hair out of her eyes because it had been slowly creeping into her face, hiding her from view. Very curtain-like. "I don't think that it's right that I do this with you when I have Harry, but I don't really want to stop either. So it would just be very nice if you could just...not tell anybody. And that's not all. I really would like to know if there's something going on between you and Malfoy."

"There isn't. But Herm, even if there were, you'd have no right whatsoever to be jealous, you know that, right?"

"Yes, I know. But I probably would be, anyway."

"Well, I can live with that." I smiled for a moment, but it was gone as soon as I realized that it had come. "You should go now. I have places to be."

"Oh. That's good, you know, that you have places."

"Yeah." She smiled and left through our shared door into her room. I turned the music back on with another wave of my hand and began crashing around the room again, every once in a while picking up some dirty clothes.

***

I arrived on time, the only dress I owned still in the box it had come in. Pansy Parkinson let me in, hiding her disgust at letting a Gryffindor, not to mention a Weasley, into her tower. I supposed she was hiding it for the sake of Blaise because I can't imagine she wished to spare my feelings.

"Hi Virginia," she said, leading me up to Blaise's room.

"Hi...Parkinson. Sorry, I don't seem to be able to say your first name." I cringed at my own awkwardness.

"I think you might find that changing very soon." I guess it was her attempt at mystique or something similar. We entered Blaise's room, all green and silver and black and I remembered my earlier feelings of...unease I think it was. Technically my first thought was chemistry, but I pushed that down.

"Hey sexy," Blaise said as she peered at me over a year-old magazine. She was the kind of girl who read magazines for whatever works of fiction they might possess, and if she found none, she'd probably burn it. I remembered vaguely that magazines and newspapers had stopped coming in one morning, in case Voldemort might intercept them and somehow delve into deep, deep secrets through them. The written word existed only in books that had previously been published, and naturally in the muggle world. Well, essays for class also.

"Now that's what I was gonna say." She got up slowly, leisurely. Every inch of her perfect body seemed to put all its effort into making the task seem effortless.

"What makes you so sure I was talking to you?" The flirtatious glint in her eye begged for me to play with her.

"I figured there was a fair chance, as I was walking in with Parkinson here."

"Hey," the girl managed for herself. She wasn't as bad looking as she had once been. She seemed to have mastered cosmetic spells.

"Well have you seen you?" I threw at her. I could tell her face was a definite source of discomfort for her, and I played to it.

"You are asking for some serious hexing," she replied.

"And here I thought you wouldn't have a comeback." She remained silent this time, knowing that whatever she said would only fuel my fire. "So are we just gonna stand here or what?"

"Right, Pansy, go back to your room to get the protective stuff." The Ugly One went off. "So my dear girl."

"Yes?" I moved into her bathroom. It was green and silver just like her bedroom. Their were little charmed butterfly hairclips flying around the room and one of them flew straight into my face.

"Oh, sorry about that, love. They aren't the brightest things in the world." She closed in on me and put her hand to my face where it had hit. "You look okay though."

"I've never seen you wear any of these." I was pushing down, once more, my very odd and inappropriate feelings for this girl.

"Oh I don't. I just have them to fly around my bathroom. If I wore them, they'd probably fly right out of my hair and at a teacher or something." She giggled slightly. I heard Parkinson enter and stepped away from the dead-follicle girl. "Okay Pansy, you know what to do." The two proceeded to set things up, while I stood by and watched.

"I feel a little helpless here."

"Don't worry; you'll get into it eventually."

Eventually? I wondered briefly how many times I would be doing this, but soon they were ready to start with the actual hair dyeing. Pansy was pulling out two bottles of hair-dye potions when Draco walked in.

"Hey pansy," I nodded toward him. My awkwardness immediately began to fade as he entered.

"I thought you said you couldn't say my name?" She squealed. I'd never heard anyone squeal like that before, except maybe myself during the Harry-Potter-is-soooo-gorgeous phase.

"She was talking to me," Draco told her, leaning against the doorway. "Are you going at it again Blaise? Why didn't you invite me?"

"I was opting for an all-girls evening, but I guess you're close enough. Grab a bottle." I think she winked. It's always odd to see a person wink.

Draco immediately joined in without hesitation, and I found myself wandering off into the bedroom. I flopped down on her bed and began to slowly flip through her magazines. I noticed that Blaise had circled an article, in a magazine from two years previous, which was about a rumor that Harry and I were dating. I had an odd flash of memory, seeing myself alternately hitting on him and making fun of him. At that point, I already truly hated him, and hitting on him made it so much more fun. He actually asked me to "get a drink or something" with him at one point, and I shot him down fantastically.

"What do you think?" Blaise came out of the bathroom with hair that matched Draco's.

"You're done already? Did I black out or something?"

"Magic honey." She smiled and twirled around. "Okay, you two go."

"But-"

"What?"

"What about her?"

"Go."

"Fine," Pansy replied slowly, eyeing me in a highly suspicious manner. Draco had already gone.

"Come here," she said to me, beckoning with her hand. I remained where I was a moment, staring after her, entranced. I couldn't figure it out, but something was changing in me. I felt almost like I belonged. I felt like I had with Tom...

When I was with her in the bathroom, she didn't even bother with the potions. She leaned toward me and touched the roots of my hair. I could barely feel the tips of her fingers where they touched me, but I felt the power emanate from them as it surged through me. I watched in the mirror as auburn turned to bluish-black.

"That was...nifty," I commented. "Why do you use the potions on yourself?"

"The others don't know that I can do this." Her breath came in short spurts. "And as you can see, it kinda wipes me out." She moved to the bed and collapsed on it. "But that's because the true purpose of the spell is not to change hair color; that's just one of the more... pleasant side effects."

"What's the purpose of the spell? What are the other side effects?"

"Let's just say that I'm going to have a slight headache tomorrow."

"And the spell? What does it do?"

"Well...it has something to do with Occlumency and...oh...don't be angry about it." She dragged her hand across her forehead, her eyes closing foggily.

"I won't."

"You say that..." Her lips were barely moving to form the words. "The spell is meant as a form of mind reading..."

"What?"

"But I can't read your thoughts with it."

"So you read my mind...without reading my mind. Makes sense."

"I didn't read your mind. I searched it." She paused, sleep grabbing hold of her. I glanced at the clock, which showed only 9:37. "I searched your memories, and your abilities."

"What abilities?"

"All that you possess." Her breathing began to slow down and regulate. "I created the spell to search my own past, based on my studies of Legilimency. I wanted to see if I could do it with other people. And hey... turns out I can."

"So...I'm like one of those rodent things that muggle scientists use to test theories and stuff."

"Yes. In a manner of speaking. I'm sorry. I could just feel that you had power, and I wanted to know it."

"Me? No. I'm not much in the way of power. My potions come out as soup and back when I had friends I put them in danger all of the time.... Nope. No power for the Weasley."

"But you are powerful. More powerful than most people I've ever met. You just can't see it yet."

"How can I not see my own power?"

"It's like if you started glowing; if you began emitting light from within you. You couldn't see it, but others could. Eventually you'd catch on and learn to see it, but it would take awhile."

"Maybe I should leave and let you sleep."

"Well..." She never finished her sentence. She drifted off into sleep. I left, leaving the dress I'd brought there, and opting to go out into the night, despite not having the invisibility cloak promised me.

The night was cold and endless. The only light came from Hagrid's hut, but I was tempted to check my reflection to make sure I wasn't emitting any myself.

I found the willow I'd been under with Hermione. Placing myself down delicately, I began to wonder if it had ever happened. Maybe I'd dreamed the experience. Maybe I was dreaming now. Nothing I was doing was in character for me. I was having fuzzy feelings...and for her, of all people. I was probably the last person she'd ever truly want to be with.

I closed my eyes, hoping to recapture the few moments of happiness I'd ever experienced. I noticed that they were mostly with Tom. They were the moments I'd felt like somebody. And then Harry killed him, and I realized I was nothing once again.

I knew. I knew eventually that I was doing it all. The attacks on the school, the blood; the blood of the roosters, my own blood, and his blood.... I figured it out. I told Tom that I knew, and that I didn't mind so much. He kissed me then, when I'd explained that I wanted to help him to live again. It was strange kiss. I was starting to weaken, and he was merely a shade of human. He had slight form, not quite even a ghost. I knew he was a lie. I knew he didn't love me, and I didn't love him. I just thought that maybe one day everybody would know that I'd done something. That I'd faded to bring about Tom's reign. I'd thought at the time that nothing could ever stop him, and that my only choice was to help him.

I wrote the message on the wall and I went down with my diary in hand. I placed myself on the floor, trying to ignore the cold.

I realize now what it truly was. My first suicide attempt at twelve.

I was peacefully recalling the details when I heard a sound from just beyond the sweeping branches. I remained as quiet as I could, pulling my knife out slowly.

Movement. The thing stepped on the bramble, causing me to start. It heard me, and leaped through the curtain of foliage. Fortunately, I stepped aside and it ran into a tree. I caught a glimpse of what you might call a face. It was bumpy and swollen, and it's teeth protruded slightly like a...

Vampire.

He stood up, unfazed by his accident, and rammed at me again. I pushed back at him, driving my knife deep into his heart and pulling it out again. He stared into his wound, before looking up at me again and laughing.

"Silly girl. Don't you read your ghost stories? Metal can't harm me." I cringed. He'd called me a silly girl.

"If I remember correctly, a splinter can kill you. Scary."

"It has to hit the heart," he replied indignantly. "Or if you take my head off-"

"Thanks for the tip," I said and lunged at him, knocking him to the ground easily before I buried my fist in his face; all the time trying to figure out what I might use to kill him. He threw me off and at the tree, my back hitting the trunk. Hard. "Well. Now you've pissed me off."

I grabbed hold of one of the lower tree branches and used it to swing myself up, obscuring his view of me. A moment later I jumped down onto his shoulders, grabbed hold of his hair to tilt back his head, and pulled my knife straight through his neck. He turned to dust beneath me, causing me to tumble to the earth.

"Are you a slayer?" He'd had a companion hiding beyond my eyesight who now showed himself.

"What's a slayer?"

"Oh." He grinned. "Philip here must have just been having an off day. I should be able to kill you easily." Before he had the chance, I jumped up to grab the same branch, pulling off a smaller one. I came down as he rushed at me, easily putting the wood through his heart.

"Great. Now off to the Headmaster."