Never Innocent
By Red Guard
Disclaimer: I do not, did not and probably will not own Harry Potter or any of the characters appearing in or associated with it. J.K. Rowling owns the characters and most of events appearing in this work.
Chapter 1: "Who are you?"
-----IIIII-----
The words that she had written had faded away. They were replaced with a single five letter word.
Hello.
She stared at the book in wonderment. What she thought was an empty diary was actually something entirely different, something magical. She was no stranger to magic. Since the day she was born magic was part of her life. Her parents and brothers were great witches and wizards, and she was going to join their ranks.
But this was not just an ordinary enchanted item. After all, the book had replied. She pursed her lips. Maybe this was all that the book could do. Maybe it was not some incredibly rare item, but somebody's idea of a joke. A minor cantrip.
And then the word faded away into nothingness. Almost as if it was asking her to pen her reply. She grew hesitant. Father always told her never to play with magic that she knew nothing about. But, how could something that she found in her cauldron be unknown? One of her brother's probably slipped it in, probably as a first year gift of some sort. Yes, that was it. After all, it was not the first time Fred and George snuck things into her bags.
Who are you? She scribbled the short question on the empty page, and laid her quill down.
I am Tom. Who are you? Her heart leapt as the words slowly appeared.
Amazing. She smiled. Who would believe that she was making friends with a book? She took up her quill and dumped it into the pot of ink. As she began to write her reply, she idly reminded herself to thank her brother, whichever one it was, for giving her such an exciting gift.
Hi, Tom. I am Ginevra.
-----IIIII-----
She spun around, taking in her surroundings. It was Hogwarts. The walls, the stairs, the paintings, the rooms, everything looked so familiar. But, when she looked closer, something was wrong. She ran down the hallways and corridors, past throngs of students, but she did not recognize anyone. And no one so much as looked at her.
"Where am I? Where have you taken me?" Her call echoed down the maze of passageways, but no one heard. Almost no one.
"Can you not guess? This is Hogwarts, Ginevra." A soft male voice replied.
Surprised, she whirled around, but saw no one. "Tom? Is that you? I can't see you."
A light chuckle echoed through passages. "I know Ginevra. I don't have much of a body anymore. I am but a wandering spirit within this book that I call my home."
"Are you a ghost, Tom?"
"Some would call me a ghost, yes. But I would prefer to be known as a wandering spirit."
She reflected on the statement for a moment. "Why are you wandering?"
"I have a sacred duty to perform." His voice took on an almost menacing tone. "I cannot and will not rest until it is complete."
"Your duty?" She whispered.
"But, let's talk about that later." The dark tone no longer resonated in his voice. Maybe her hearing
had deceived her. "If I remembered correctly, you wanted me to show you where I lived all those years
ago."
"You were in Hogwarts?" She chirped enthusiastically.
"Yes, Ginevra." She could almost feel him grin. "Hogwarts. All those years ago."
-----IIIII-----
"So, your Father is a great wizard?"
"Yes, Tom." Tom always seemed interested in her family, as well as everything else that she knew about the wizarding world. It was a pleasant change for her. An extremely pleasant change. Even her family, bless their hearts, never actually asked her about anything important. She didn't blame them. Everyone in her family was distinguished in their own right. Everyone except for her. But now, at least, someone had decided she was interesting enough.
"How about your mother?"
"She isn't as famous as Dad."
"So she's not a witch?" Tom's voice sounded somewhat tense, but she shook her head and decided to ignore it.
"Of course she's a witch." She replied. "Very capable too, just not as famous."
"Ah, of course." The strain in his voice faded away. "I remember that you said that you had brothers, care to tell me about them?"
"My brothers? Sure. Well, there's nothing much to tell really. Bill's been Head Boy, Charlie led Gryffindor to the Cup, Percy became a prefect, then Head Boy." She was used to rattling off her brothers' achievements, but the feeling of inferiority always managed to sneak into her being. "Fred and George were never achievers; they just made everyone love them." A thin smile crossed her lips.
"That's a large family." She felt Tom's warm smile. "I hope you aren't going to continue on for the whole day."
"It's not that large." She gave a short laugh. "Actually, there's only Ron left."
"The youngest?"
"I'm younger, but he is the youngest brother." She paused, contemplating. "He acts incredibly cowardly sometimes, but if you ask me, standing up to You-Know-Who, even though he wasn't alone, is not something normal people can do."
"You-Know-Who?" Apparently, this piqued Tom's interest. "Tell me more." She was happy to oblige.
"Ron was with his two friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, when they stopped You-Know-Who from making off with the Philosopher's Stone." She tried her best to recall what her brother had told her during his many boasting sessions.
"I have heard of the Philosopher's Stone. Is it not locked away in the vaults of Gringott's?"
"I'm not sure. Harry knows the most about it, but he doesn't talk about it with many people. Just Ron and Hermione."
"And how about this You-Know-Who?" Tom seemed incredibly curious.
"You don't know about the Dark Lord?" Her voice trembled. A fear that was burned into her. A fear that was burned into everyone.
"The Dark Lord?" Tom echoed, a strange hint of hope resounded in his voice.
"Yes." She shuddered as she spoke his name. "The Dark Lord Voldemort."
"Voldemort." Tom whispered in awe.
-----IIIII-----
She buried her head in her pillow. Luckily enough, her dormitory was empty. The other girls had all gone for lessons, lessons which she did not really care about at this moment, lessons which she had chosen to skip. She felt devastated. After finally plucking up enough courage to speak with Harry, he had brushed her off. He had flashed his charming smile, he spoke with his suave tone, but after two minutes worth of conversation, he went off with Hermione.
Hermione.
Intelligent. Beautiful. Wealthy.
Everything she was not.
She was insignificant, living in the shadow of her brothers, in the shadow of Hermione and in the shadow of Harry Potter. She would never live up to her family name.
No one cared.
No one bothered.
No one, except Tom. She leapt out of her bed and rummaged through her books. With a massive effort, she yanked the diary free.
"Tom!" She tore the book open in anguish. "Tom! Speak to me!"
-----IIIII-----
"Tom, do you ever wish that were something that you were not?"
"Are you still thinking about it, Ginevra?" His voice always managed to sooth her.
"It's hard to ignore." She sighed. This strangle Hogwarts that Tom had shown her became a place for her to escape from the harsh realties of the Hogwarts that she lived her life in. "I am just another student. I won't become Head Girl. I won't become a prefect. I won't captain the Quidditch team. Harry can see that. Everyone can see that."
"Stop it." Tom urged her.
But she continued on, trudging through another of the nameless corridors in the school. "I will never equal any of my brothers."
"Do not worry. When your blood is pure, your destiny is assured."
She stopped and looked out of a massive window. The greenery of the lawns stretched out before her. The dew-covered grass glinted in the soft glow of the sun. "I don't think that blood has anything to do with destiny."
"What?" Shock was evident in his voice.
"Everyone knows Hermione will be one of the greatest witches. But she is Muggle-born."
"A Mudblood?" Tom's tone dripped disdain.
"Tom!" Ginny recoiled in horror. No one in her family tolerated such language, and she was not about to start. "Take that back at once!"
"Why?"
"Being a Muggle does not mean that you are useless. Being Muggle-born does not mean you have less opportunity. Being born in a world of magic does not mean that you are superior." She recited the mantra that her father drummed into her.
"Who told you that?" His reply was swift and curt. It was more of a demand than a request.
"My father."
"Do you believe that?"
"Yes, I do." Her head bobbed vigorously.
"Why?"
"Why not? Do you have any proof?" She challenged.
"Proof?" Tom's tone lightened considerably. "You'll find out soon enough, Ginevra."
"I don't understand."
Tom's chuckle puzzled her even more. "Enough of this. If I remember correctly, you asked me about whether I wished for something."
"Yes. Do you?" She breathed a small sigh of relief, glad to move on to a less sensitive topic.
"If I tell you, will you help me?"
"If I can, of course."
"I wish I were not a spirit."
Mystified by the request, she shook her head sadly. "I don't think I can help you with that."
"Yes, you can Ginevra. Yes, you can."
-----IIIII-----
Nighttime was nerve-wracking in Hogwarts. The darkness was overwhelming, shadows loomed large, and the occasional wail of the ghosts that walked the corridors. Walking alone among the dozens of terror never appealed to her, but at this moment, that was the least of her worries. Fear drove her on, but it was not fear of the blackness of night, it was the fear that sprung from overwhelming guilt.
Her eyes darted from left to right as she deftly tip-toed her way to one of the classrooms. Once she made her way inside, she placed her hands on the door and closed it softly. She hoped that no one would hear her conversation and the chances of her being heard here in the dead of night were a lot more remote than in the dormitory full of sleeping girls.
She knew she was not thinking straight, but she did not really care. Guilt gnawed at her, and she had to deal with it. If not, she would be driven mad.
She reached into her pouch, and retrieved the diary of Tom Riddle. The blasted book that had accompanied her till now did not merely house a wandering spirit any more. It became something much more dangerous. Thanks to her.
Flinging the book onto the floor, she said, "Tom. I need to speak to you."
The book magically flipped opened and out of thin air, the apparition of a stunningly handsome man appeared. His gleaming eyes brimmed with knowledge and his gentle smile exuded charm. But she didn't care. Not anymore.
"What is it Ginevra?"
"You know perfectly well what it is, Tom." She stared accusingly at Tom's manifestation.
"I don't understand." His puzzled expression infuriated her.
"You do." She would have slapped his smug face if it would have done anything. "How could you do that to them? How could you hurt people who did nothing wrong in their life?"
"Nothing wrong?" Tom smirked. "They do not deserve to study magic, and yet they are. That is a crime that should be punishable by death."
She was aghast. "How can you say that?"
"How can you not agree with me?" Tom strode forward, his face filled with rage. "The Mudbloods have tarnished our bloodlines. They have stolen our rightful place in the world. They have taken our gift of magic and used it as if it were theirs. Only we whose blood is pure should have a right to use this gift."
"Magic belongs to everyone!" She heard herself screech in response.
"Just like that old fool Dumbledore." He spat. "Muggle-lovers are even worse than Mudbloods. They have renounced their blood, and spat on their history."
"Muggles haven't done anything wrong to anyone!"
"Just what your Father told you, and you believed every single word." She saw the fires burning in his eyes. "As if spawning those damned Mudbloods weren't enough…"
"Stop it!" She slapped her hands over her ears.
"You don't want to hear it, but it's true." Tom began to walk around her as he spoke with malice. "Hermione? That girl that you feel so overpowered by? She's a Mudblood isn't she? Harry Potter? That boy you seem so enamored with, yet refuses to even look at you? He's born to a Mudblood isn't he? Your parents? The ones that want you are so desperate to please? They love those Muggles don't they?"
"Stop it!" She sunk to the floor, her head buried in her hands.
"If that is not enough proof for you, just wait a few years." He crouched next to her and whispered. "You'll understand. You'll try to be kind, but they will step all over you. You will feel distraught. You will feel alone. Then you will remember my words."
"Stop it!" She lurched forward and managed to place her hands on the diary.
"There is only one thing that these people understand, and that is…"
"Stop it!" With a mighty scream, she slammed the diary shut, and watched as Tom's ghost began to slowly disappear.
"Power…" He whispered as he faded into the night air.
Her vision was blurry, her breathing was haggard and her brow was dripping sweat. Panic began to enfold her. She had to get rid of the diary.
She had to get rid of it now.
-----IIIII-----
Her life was falling apart.
Just when she thought that she was finally free after disposing of the diary, she realized that Harry somehow came into possession of it. She was in a panic. She had to get it from Harry before he found out about anything. Otherwise, it would be all over for her. Her family would disown her, Hogwarts would expel her, and no one would ever talk to her again.
"No one ever thinks clearly when they panic." Father always told her. She realized that he was right, because sneaking into the boys' dormitory to steal something from Harry was the perfect example of not thinking clearly. But now, there was no turning back. The more time that Harry spent with the book, the more time he had to find out about what she did. She stared at all the empty beds. The boys would be coming back soon, and she had to be out with the book before then.
She pursed her lips and made a beeline for Harry's bed.
-----IIIII-----
"I knew that you would see my way." Tom looked at her, his sickly sweet smile drawn ear to ear.
"No!" She protested loudly. "I will not do it anymore!"
"You aren't here for that?" He raised his eyebrow. "You stole the book from Potter, fled all the way to the top of the West Tower and into the Owlery, just for chitchat?"
"I'm going to get rid of you! Permanently, this time!"
"By doing what? Throwing the book into the toilet like the last time?" Tom smirked. "I don't know whether I should tell you this, but thanks to you, I don't really need the book anymore."
"What?" She felt gutted. What was he talking about? What had she done? "Why?"
"Because of you my dear. All your help has got me this far, and I won't forget it." He approached her, grinning maliciously. "You wanted to get rid of that Mudblood Granger didn't you?"
"No!" She recoiled in horror, and felt herself fall to the floor, staring up at Tom's apparition.
"Ah, being the good girl again, aren't we?" Tom towered over her. "But I know you much better than that. You've done one good deed for me, and I'll do one for you. I'm not sure that you will be around long enough to enjoy it, but I don't care either way. I will always take the time to kill another Mudblood. So says, Tom Marvolo Riddle." He paused, and then smiled wickedly. "Or should I say, Lord Voldemort."
"Lord Voldemort?" Her eyes widened in horror.
And then, the world went black.
-----IIIII-----
Author's Notes: I've talked to a friend about this plot, and was since he's a Harry Potter nut and not that bad a writer (certainly better than myself), I asked him to write him. But alas, I forgot what a lazy bum he was, and so I got challenged to write it. Imagine that, someone else challenging me to write up a story that I had thought of. But, a challenge is a challenge, and this certain plot is interesting enough for me to carry through.
I have no detailed experience with Harry Potter, certainly not enough to begin writing a comprehensible story from start to finish, but I'm pretty sure I'll manage. Though if any of you find horrendously glaring inconsistencies, feel free to shoot an email my way, and I'll see what I can do to correct the travesty.
And for the story, it's going to be a Ginny/Draco with a bit of Harry/Hermione, and Ron having romance with a special character. One that belongs to Rowling, trust me. And no, its no McGonagall. I'm not that sick.
And so as you can see, I'm going along the tried and tested path of Ginny being force fed with Voldemort's ramblings. Actually there more I think about it, the more I realize that the Ginny/Draco path is so well-trodden, there are few unique ways in which they would get paired up. I'm sure an ultra talented author could think of one, but I'm definitely not one of them. But don't worry, the story will be as original as it comes once it begins moving along.
So eh, sit back, read, and hopefully enjoy this trip.
No pre-readers were hurt in the making of this chapter. Of course, if you want to be a pre-reader, give me an email, and we'll discuss it.
Anyways, please remember to email me at [red UNDERSCORE aurum AT yahoo DOT com] for any suggestions, critiques, reviews and the like. Please don't flame me, I have a fragile ego.
See you next chapter. Chapter Two: "Where's the honor in that?"
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