CHAPTER SIX: Tales of a Fragmented Mind
The watch relieved; or one deep voice alone,
Singing the hour, and bidding "strike the bell."
All is black shadow, but the lucid line
Charlotte Smith, "Huge Vapours Brood above the Clifted Shore"
++
She saw them once.
"You shouldn't be with him," Harry hissed, his grip tightening around her wrist.
Hermione wrenched her arm away from him with a violent sob. "You don't have that right," she replied, trembling. "You don't have that right at all!"
She saw them once and thought nothing more of it because Hermione was with Ron and Harry would've been- all would've been right.
But then she saw them twice.
Hermione's face was bruised from the battle earlier and blood stained her shirt. But to Harry, it seemed, she was the only beautiful thing in the room.
"You're all right," he breathed.
Hermione nodded. "Yeah."
He reached for her then, pulling her to his arms and shaking with relief.
"Thank Merlin, you're all right."
Twice was enough.
They moved with the silence. As a tangle of limbs and shivering whispers, they moved and she couldn't tell them apart.
And so she did something about it.
Once was supposed to be an end. But twice- three times and even four- it couldn't happen again.
They were here and she'd do it right this time.
++
Harry wasn't supposed to be in her room.
Her fists clenched at her side. "What are you doing?"
He looked up, startled. She watched as he shut the book he had been reading- probably one of Hermione's stupid books- and hugged it to his chest protectively. She nearly growled when she recognized the look in his eyes.
Harry turned away. "Nothing."
She took a step forward, intending on lashing out, but warning bells began to scream in her head. Hermione's room was in the Compound was one of the best sealed, security-wise- which is why she killed her in Hogwarts. She took a step back and tried to compose herself.
"You're in Hermione's quarters," the words escaped her lips before she could stop them. "It didn't mean anything to you, did it?"
His head snapped towards her again. "What… what are you talking about?"
"What I told you," Ginny hissed. "It meant nothing to you. I meant nothing to you."
The look on Harry's face was one of genuine concern and confusion- a clue to stop- but she was furious and a Weasley with a temper.
"It's always about Hermione!" Her nails began to dig into her palms. "You two don't realize what you already have. You don't need her."
"Ginny..."
But she whirled around and flew down the hall. She had to do something. She had to make things right again. Things were moving too fast and out of her control. She had to talk to him.
She stopped and punched the wall, angry tears forming in her eyes. This had to be dealt with. She couldn't stand losing Harry to that- her.
"It wasn't that bad, love." Neville's laughter echoed down the hall as he and Hermione the corner.
And then all hell broke loose.
With a cat-like hiss, she flung herself at Hermione and swung her arm back. Her hand connected with the other girl's face and she clawed at her cheek. Ginny watched with a satisfied smile as she cried out in surprise, blood rolling down her cheek. She stumbled backwards, but ducked when Ginny tried to reach for her again.
Neville growled and grabbed her, pushing her against the wall and pinning her arms above her head.
Ginny struggled. "Get the hell off of me!"
"There's no need to get out of fucking line, Gin," he murmured dangerously. Neville towered over her, ready to strike. "Don't make me accidentally break you arms."
"You wouldn't," she spat. Over his shoulder, she watched as Hermione stood and composed herself. She reached up and gingerly touched her cheek.
"All right, Hermione?" Neville asked.
"Fine," came the quiet reply.
Ginny's eyes widened.
Her ring finger was bare.
She opened her mouth to say something, but Neville tightened his grip on her arms and shot her a look.
"What's going on?"
Harry, it seemed, had followed her- or so she hoped for the slightest moment- and stood staring at the three of them. But, like always, his gaze was and never left Hermione.
Ginny watched as Harry approached Hermione, his eyes flickering to her finger like she had, and gently tilted her chin to look at her scratched cheek.
"Are you all right?" He glanced over to both her and Neville, only to assess the situation.
"I'm fine," she said.
Harry started to open his mouth as if to ask again what had happened, but he was cut off.
"Well, look hheeere Ronnie! It's a group partttyyy!"
Neville looked over as well and Ginny began to take advantage of the situation, spotting Ron's glare at Harry. It was too easy. Tonks and Ron never failed to give her an advantage for escaping when they were like this.
She lurched forward against Neville's grip. "She's not wearing your ring, Ron!"
It all unraveled then.
She didn't care what happened next, whether Ron hit Harry or Harry hit Ron. She pushed away from Neville, who let her go to go and help keep some semblance of peace. She briefly toyed with the idea of sending a quiet hex in the direction of Hermione, for spite, but there were more pressing matters.
She had to leave.
She had to go and see him.
++
Riddle House sat on a hill surrounded by large, dying trees and the ruins of what once could have been a grand garden.
She made it to the estate without any problems. Most people in the Compound did not question her quick disappearance. She was the sister of the leader of the Rebellion, one of the top circles, and no one questioned her. Muggles tended to stay away from the area as well. The murders that haunted the once-great family were now legends.
From time to time, she could hear the occasional whisper of oh what a terrible place and what a poor boy.
She crossed into the yard and stepped onto the winding path, moving quickly and quietly up to the door. The wind seemed to blow harder as she got closer to the house. She pulled her cloak around her body tighter.
She hated coming here.
But it was the only way.
"Well, well," mocked a voice from behind her. "If it isn't the traitor herself."
She whirled around. Pansy Parkinson stood behind her, arms crossed over her chest and her lips curled into a vicious smile. The other woman was fiercely feared in the Compound, preferring to use her dangerous beauty to manipulate and then kill many of those who were unfortunate enough to wander off.
She took a step backwards. "Parkinson," she greeted coldly. "I don't have time for chatting. I'm here to see the Dark Lord."
Her smile grew. "I'm not looking to chat," she cooed, stepping into Ginny's space. Pansy reached out and grabbed a lock of stray hair, curling it around a slender finger. Ginny swallowed, her eyes unable to stray from the contrast of her pale skin and red hair.
"Then let me go."
Pansy laughed. "Silly, little girl. He knows you're here all ready. Do you think she needs a reminder of her place, Macnair?"
Her heart nearly stopped when she turned back around to find Macnair, one of the inner circles, perched atop one of the stairs in front of the door, watching her and sharpening his knives. He smiled and bared his teeth, yellow and rotting. She noticed that his hands were covered in blood and even stained the corners of his mouth.
She was ready to vomit.
She stumbled back and tried to ignore Pansy's laugh of absolutele amusement.
"You sick fuck," she cursed.
"Tsk, tsk," Pansy mocked. "You're supposed to be one of us too, you know. And besides, if you think that's bad, then maybe you should wait until they clean inside. There are all sorts of scary things there."
Frantic, Ginny began to look for a way back. There were other ways of contacting the Dark Lord, riskier ways in her camp, but better than this. She tried to turn away, but Pansy reached and grabbed her by the arm.
"He won't be denied," she hissed. "Go inside, like a good little girl."
For a moment, she couldn't move. The scent of Pansy's perfume wrapped around her like some sort of noose and the sound of Macnair sharpening his knives sent chills down her spine.
With a slow nod she wrenched herself free from the other woman and walked passed Macnair, ignoring the chilling laughter of her former schoolmate and the executioner as it followed her inside.
The only light inside the house came from the scattered candles around the halls. She shivered and walked briskly down the hall, ignoring the desperate pleas and screams of men and women- people who she had no doubt that she knew.
The scent of blood and sex was heavy in the air.
Turning a corner, she almost ran into Peter Pettigrew. She steadied herself with one hand against the wall, nearly screaming when her fingers were suddenly coated in blood.
"He has sssome mattersss to attend before he meetsss with you," the older man stuttered, shaking violently. His eyes rolled upwards briefly and she knew instantly that he had been curse.
She nodded her compliance.
"He wishesss you to sssee sssomething first."
Ginny followed Pettigrew deeper into the darkness of the hallways, where candles become scarce and the air colder to a set of doors at the end, and feared what waited for her behind them. Murmuring an incantation, she watched as Pettigrew waved his hand over one door and opened it.
"Harry!" Hermione screamed.
Ron tried to reach for her, put she pushed passed him. Her eyes were wild and tears marred her cheeks. She threw herself into Harry's arms.
"He's gone," she sobbed.
She had never seen Hermione tremble like this.
"He's gone."
Ginny's eyes widened. "Remus," she breathed.
The former DADA professor sat in the corner of the small cell-like room, pale and glassy-eyed. Vicious, angry scars were scattered all over her skin and his clothing was tattered and soiled.
She expected movement, a bit of protesting, but there was nothing. No sound. No speech.
Nothing.
Pettigrew tried to laugh, but ended up sounding as if he were dying. "He can't hear you," he managed gleefully. "He's been like this since the Great Fire."
She began to shake.
"But," he continued, turning to leave. "He knows you're here. Anyone can smell a traitor."
Ginny swallowed and forced herself to turn and follow.
Remus' eyes were gold.
++
It was close to midnight when the Dark Lord finally summoned Pettigrew to bring her to his rooms.
She was shaking in a pattern now- jumping when a scream of pain and horror echoed down the hallway or when she found her mind wandering to Remus in his cell.
You have to do this, she told herself. You have to make things right.
She never met the Dark Lord face to face. In battle, it seemed that only Harry, Hermione, and Ron had that privilege- each of them coming out of their experiences silently withdrawn.
Her encounters were with that of a ghost, a ghost of a boy who never should've been a man.
We will meet again, he had told her, brushing a kiss against her forehead. And you will die for me and I will own your soul.
Pettigrew pushed her into the room, causing her to trip and fall to her knees. Low laughter greeted her from all different angles of the room and she knew instantly, oh Merlin, she knew she was in the presence of not just Voldemort- but the Inner Circle as well.
You have to make things right.
Everything needs to be the way it should be.
"It's been too long, Ginerva," The voice of the Dark Lord whispered from behind her. "Have you forgotten your family?"
She trembled, dizzy from a mix of her own fear and the terrible sensations that the Riddle House was invoking in her. "No, you know I have to be careful-"
A dark blue light flashed from the other side of her and hit her in the side. She flew forward, her face hitting the cold wood floor with a loud crack. Laughter followed again afterwards.
"Now, Bella," Voldemort chastised. "There will be time for that later. It seems our dear Ginerva has forgotten her place in my ranks."
"I'm going to kill Lestrange," Harry hissed.
Hermione arched against him with a startled cry as he twisted her around to capture her lips. They melted into each other.
"I'm going to kill Lestrange and then dance on her grave."
Ginny lurched forward, vomit spewing from her lips onto the floor in front of her. Her face burned with shame and her hands trembled in fear. They were playing with her, mocking her loyalty and contribution.
You have to make things right, she repeated to herself.
"Indeed you do," Voldemort responded.
Her hand went to her throat and her eyes went wide. The skin under fingers burned as if it were on fire. She wondered if it had to do with the curse that had been thrown at her, but she was too worried about other things. There had never been any time where he had ever read her mind.
"Silly little girl," he continued affectionately, echoing the statements of Pettigrew and Pansy. "You've truly forgotten that I know everything that goes on in that head of yours. I know Potter's somehow come back and Granger as well."
She licked her lips. Her side burned and she ached to touch it, but feared another reaction. The Inner Circle would only feed on signs of her weakness. She could not afford the luxury of hiding for a couple days to heal with the new situation.
Fix it.
Make things right.
"She's alive," she echoed. For a moment, there was silence. The death of Hermione had elevated her temporarily into a safety position, one with room to move and protect herself.
Unpredictability was dangerous in her situation now.
Footsteps grew closure from behind her and then a soft, gloved hand reached out and gently caressed her hair.
"You have been faithful so far," he said. "And I expect you to continue."
The words sounded so foreign on her lips. "Yes, my Lord."
"You cannot kill her," he whispered.
Her eyes widened in surprise and her lips parted in a silent scream as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. She felt a wand on her forehead. Her vision blurred and all she could make out was a shadow- with several shadows accompanying it.
"And I will kill you if you disobey."
She could move or responded. She knew instinctively what came next.
"Crucio."
As it should be.
++++
So hello. It's been quite some time.
*sighs*
We could give you the long-winded excuse, but really RL has been a pain in the rear end- school and such- that led to the uber-long delay of this chapter.
Time won't be so painful anymore, now that it's vacation.
Any questions please feel free to poke and prod us. Goldy is the friendly one, me, Kaze, I bite.
Goldy's note: She does not bite. She only says that to intimidate people. She's really quite the softie, once you get to know her.
*hides from Kaze*