Friends Close, Enemies Closer

.:Angelgrl185:.

((I do not own the Harry Potter Series or any of its components))






Chapter One: Dark Dreams



It was dark, pitch black with no stars hanging in the sky. She was only surrounded by intense blackness, but she kept running, forcing her legs to pump as if her life depended on it because it did. Ginny Weasely’s breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps as she sprinted willing with all her might that the blood coursing through her veins would yield more oxygen and energy to her weakening muscles.

Ginny felt her energy dying, her body giving out on her as well as it should, it had done far more then she should be asking it too. Her golden amber hair had been pulled into a tight ponytail, but multiple tendrils had gained freedom as she ran, clinging to the sweat covering her face and she knew it was a matted wreck, but for the first time in her life, Ginny could care less what she looked like. She only thought about her survival.

Ginny’s green tee shirt was caked in mud and ripped in several places while the rest of it was either soaked in sweat or stained with blood. She became increasingly dehydrated, her body using all her liquids as she sweated profusely, cloaked in thick layers from her head to her feet. Ginny’s body head flared, her face flushed bright red from the exertion, and her head was even steaming as her body released its heat into the cold air. Ginny could not feel the frostiness of the night though; she could only feel the heat of her skin and the burning in her lungs and muscles.

Ginny knew as she dashed blindly through the streets of London that her body was going to collapse soon, but she forced her mind to push the thoughts away because she could not afford her body giving out, they were hunting her and she could not afford to stop. The wind whipped icily around her, but Ginny could not fee it, her body had started to grow numb. She darted down a back alley, somehow hoping to lose her predators. Ginny, with little she could make out in the dark, dodged trashcans as her feet pounded heavily against the crushed gravel and dried leaves.

Suddenly, Ginny felt herself plow into a brick wall, her head giving a resounding smack as it met the wall and she bounced off, thrown from the force. A dead end, Ginny’s head was pounding in rhythm with her heart as her body collapsed to the ground, her knees sinking to the earth, her hands pressed to the floor, she was broken.

She felt them before she heard them. They had caught up to her and she was trapped with nowhere to go and no strength to fight, not that she could beat them even if she did. They stood at the entrance of the alley, black robed bringers of death, then glided effortlessly towards her bringing a chill that even she couldn’t escape, a chill that froze her body, that filled her mind, her heart and her soul.

They were swarming her now, touching her with their ghastly, scaly hands. Ginny lifted her head up weakly, her dull brown eyes staring at the one standing in front of her, its black cloak billowing in the night’s frosty wind. It reached out with both hands and grabbed Ginny’s shoulders, hauling her to her feet, her body protesting earnestly. Ginny stared, powerless to do anything as the Dementor brought its face close to hers and Ginny closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable, waiting for it to suck out her soul, but it never came. Peeking through her eyelids, Ginny was alarmed and surprised to find herself no longer in the grasp of a Dementor, but in Ron’s and she was no longer in the alley, but dangling over a cliff.

“Ron!” Ginny choked out, to the person grasping her tightly around her neck. “Ron! What are you doing?” She received no reply, only an icy cold stare of hatred.

“Please!” Ginny pleaded with her brother, tears filling her brown eyes. “Please I beg you Ron! Do not drop me! Don’t do this to me!” This time he smirked coldly then released his fingers from their hold around her neck and Ginny fell.

“NOOOOO!” she screamed, arms flailing wildly.

Ginny felt as if she was moving in slow motion. Her body jerked around wildly, yet slowly as her lips parted emitting a ghastly scream. Her stomach was queasy, her heart felt as if it had plummeted to the pit of it and she was shaking uncontrollably as she fell. Fear encased her heart and mind as she tumbled endlessly through the air with incredible force, gaining speed as she fell.

Ginny prayed that her life would be taken away from her, but to no avail. After what seemed like ages of falling, Ginny crashed through the glassy surface of a lake, the frozen water chilling her to the bone. What little clothing that was still clinging to her worn body felt like a load of bricks, weighing her down. Ginny struggled against the water, swimming towards the surface and broke through, breathing in the air. She looked towards the shore and started to swim over when she felt sharp nails digging into her skin as bony fingers grabbed her legs.

Horrified, Ginny tried to kick the creature off her, but it would not relinquish its grip and started to drag her back under the water. She did not have much strength and the Grindylow was pulling her down, the lake swallowing her again. Ginny’s air was running out, she had no more air to hold Her lungs felt as if they were shriveling, her head bursting with pain as black circles dotted her vision, her consciousness growing faint. Ginny barely consciously felt the Grindylow pull her to the ground. Desperately, she fumbled around and found a large rock. Straining to pick it up, Ginny threw it at her leg, hitting the Grindylow making it release its hold also slicing through her jeans and skin. Blood mixed with the lake water and floated in a cloud. Ginny frantically swam to the surface and broke through with a gasp, drinking in the air as if it were gold. She immediately began swimming hard and swift towards the shore.

When she reached the sandy beach, Ginny collapsed on it exhausted, drained, and empty. She lay there in silence until the sound of footsteps reached her ear. Ginny opened her heavy eyelids to reveal emerald eyes and nearly fainted from joy when she spotted Harry and Hermoine.

“Harry, help me!” she croaked out weakly, pulling herself to her feet. The duo stared at her with evident distaste and hatred. Two sets of eyes glared at her fiercely, and they walked away leaving her alone and dying. Ginny broke down in tears, her shoulders quaking with sobs. The people she loved had abandoned her.

“Tsk, tsk Angelina,” a familiar voice broke through her grief. “You are normally not one to show weakness.”

Ginny looked up and discovered she was now in the Slytherin chambers surrounded by the whole lot.

“Don’t let them get to you, Angelina,” Blaise said soothingly, helping Ginny unsteadily to her feet. “They’re just pricks.”

Confused, Ginny looked around wildly and tried to back away, but her legs gave out and she had to lean on Blaise to keep her balance.

“Maybe you should get some rest girl,” Blaise suggested. “You look horrible. Deathly pale and everything.” she pointed out Ginny’s complexion.

Ginny was dumbfounded, what was she doing in Slytherin’s common room and why were they being so nice to her? Who is Angelina? Is that her? Ginny closed her eyes and shook her head to clear her thoughts. When she opened them again however, they widened in fear. She was no longer at Hogwarts.

She was in what appeared to be a rather large cave, damp and it smelled like rotting wood. A slight fog covered the air, which was thick and hard to breathe. Ginny blinked rapidly, hoping the sight in front of her would go away if she did, but alas, it did not. Standing in front of her in a half circle was a group of Death Eaters, their figures casting ghostly shadows against the dimly lit cave. Ginny pressed herself hard against to the wall as if willing it to open and swallow her up. She had nowhere to run. Ginny shivered as the Death Eaters grew near, their steps soft against the dirt ground, their beady eyes glaring at her behind black robes.

They taunted her; she heard whispers all around her, even inside her head, baiting her, laughing at her. She clutched her head with her fingers and squeezed her eyes shut trying to block them out, but it did not work.

“Crucio!” a low baritone voice boomed through out the cave.

A wand pointed at her emitted a bright flash of light and Ginny screamed as the curse hit her. The pain was mind blowing, her head bursting with pain and white-hot light. She crumpled to the floor, her body searing with pain and she squirmed in the dirt like a pathetic dog. The pain lifted but its effects stayed with her as Ginny whimpered on the ground. The Death Eaters laughed coldly at her pain, satisfaction filling them as they watched her.

“Thought you could hide from us forever did you?” a feminine voice spoke, laced with venom. “You cannot hide from the Dark Lord forever. He always finds what he is looking for.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Ginny choked out between spasms of pain. The Death Eaters laughed mockingly.

“Oh really?” the woman hissed. “Tell me, Ginny Weasely, do you really think we are going to fall for that? CRUCIO!” she shouted vehemently, brandishing her wand and hitting Ginny full force with her spell. Ginny let out a blood curdling scream and fell back to the ground squirming with the intense pain.

“Enough!” a man yelled, causing the woman to stop her torment. Ginny gasped in air, her body still twitching. She had had enough, there was nothing left in her to keep going. Ginny wished that they would kill her and end this nightmare of a life.

“She has caused enough damage. There is no reason to let her live any longer.”

“But she needs to suffer!” the woman protested earnestly.

“Her life has been one of suffering,” the man said softly. The woman looked at him in disbelief. “Kill her now. End it,” he ordered.

The front most Death Eater brought his hand out from under his cloak and pointed it at Ginny. “Avada Kedavra,” he hissed as bright green sparks shot out and the blinding green light raced towards her.

“GINNY, NOOO!” a familiar voice shouted and Ginny felt a body slamming into hers knocking her out of the path of the lethal curse and flattening them both to the dusty ground. They rolled several feet before coming to a halt, her savior on top. Ginny felt a rush of foreign emotions fill her directed towards the person and she became tingly inside. Ginny turned her gaze to the face trying to see who it was that risked their life for her, but her vision burst into white light and Ginny woke up.

Panting, Ginny sat straight up in her bed, the thing wool sheets sliding down her body. Dried tears stained her face and her body was damp with sweat. Slowly Ginny calmed down, recognizing her own room and realizing that it had all been a dream.

“A dream that was only a dream,” Ginny whispered in relief as well as disbelief.

“But if felt so real.”

Shaken by what she had seen, Ginny got up and went downstairs to the Burrow’s kitchen to make herself hot chocolate. She picked up the rusty blue kettle and poured in some milk, placing it on low heat on the burner in order to heat up the milk and avoid burning it. She opened a pack of chocolate and broke it into tiny slabs before placing them one by one in the hot milk as they melted and then stirred the concoction with a wooden spoon. She added a little sugar to the mix and then poured the hot chocolate into a chipped Quidditch mug sporting the Chudley Cannons.

Settling herself at the table, she sipped her steaming mug and wondered whom it was that had saved her and why she could not see the face. Why did she feel strange emotions for this person?

“It wasn’t real, wasn’t real,” Ginny repeated over aloud to herself, her rational mind taking over. In her heart however, Ginny could not brush the foreboding feeling off and she wondered if it was more than just a dream. Shivering, Ginny sipped her hot chocolate and stared out the kitchen window her coffee brown eyes meeting total darkness, a black starless night.



I just wanted to let you all know that in this fiction piece Blaise Zabini is going to be a girl. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Please review!

.:Angelgrl185:.

Friends Close, Enemies Closer

.:Angelgrl185:.

((I do not own the Harry Potter Series or any of its components))




Chapter Two: Dreams Do Come True

Four Years Earlier

It was a damp cool place, the tireless dripping of water echoing throughout the stone walled room, or more so, prison. A large pipe was in the front of the chamber and a single stone passageway led out from it, scummy water blanketing either side. The path led to a large squared stoned section, the water flowing around it like a moat. On the wall, a trench went around the square and was lit with blazing fire. She felt his presence rather then saw it, at least, her subconscious mind did. Little first year Ginny Weasely was crumpled on the hard floor with her bright red hair fanned out and sticking to the damp, slimy stone. Her black robes were disarrayed, showing her pink cotton shirt and light blue jeans. Tom Riddle was hunched over her; his wiry frame bent as he searched within the confines of her robes and pulled out her wand.

The diary lay on the ground momentarily forgotten by Tom as the basilisk crawled out of the drainpipe. It hissed lengthily at Tom who replied in Parsletongue.

“There are humansss coming,” the snake warned. Tom gave the basilisk a sharp look.

“Who isss it?” he hissed back.

“Ssscar,” was the reply.

“Harry Potter,” Riddle said disgusted.

“Yessss,” the snake confirmed.

“When he gets here, kill him,” Tom ordered.

“Yesss, Massster.” The snake bobbed its head in a low bow before moving off into the tunnels to wait for its prey.

Ginny was alarmed, one because Harry was coming and going to be killed, two because Tom had just spoken in Parsletongue and she had understood it. Although her physical body was unresponsive, Ginny’s subconscious was going crazy in her mind.

“What do I do? Why can I understand him?” she wondered then the realization of what was happening hit her. The diary. Tom was keeping her a prisoner in her own mind, keeping her body dormant and unconscious through their connection from the diary. He was in her head controlling her from the inside and she could understand him because of it.

“I have to do something,” Ginny told herself. “But what?”

“Turn his plan around on him,” her consciences voice floated in the back of her mind.

“How?” Ginny asked herself, curious.

“Go inside his head,” her conscience replied.

“How do I do that?” Ginny asked bewildered.

“Concentrate hard, this should come naturally to you, Ginny,” the voice suggested.

Ginny did what she said, not catching what her mind meant by natural. Ginny closed her eyes, although technically they were already shut, and she cleared all thoughts until it was completely blank. Then she projected an image of Tom Riddle in her mind and concentrated all thoughts on him. Ginny imagined herself walking up to him and placing her hands on the sides of his face and stared hard into his eyes with her intense emerald ones. Then she felt a surge of power and her mind was propelled forward and she found herself in Tom Riddle’s mind.

It was dim and hazy, lights shimmering in iridescent waves all around her. Ginny saw tiny little orbs floating all around her, creamy and smooth. Curious, she reached out and grabbed one in her hands and was immediately whisked away into one of Tom Riddle’s memories. Ginny found herself in Snape’s cold damp dungeon. Bewildered, Ginny looked around and noticed Tom Riddle sitting at a desk, halfheartedly scribbling on a piece of parchment. Ginny looked towards the front of the room and realized that she was not in Snape’s dungeon, at least, it wasn’t his dungeon yet. Looking down she saw that she was still clasping the glowing orb in her hand, Ginny released it and the memory faded.

“These are Tom’s memories!” Ginny said in awe as she stared at the glowing orbs surrounding her. It was just like the diary when Tom showed her his past and the dealings with Hagrid.

“Only this time he can’t twist it to make it look different," Ginny said to herself. "These are his raw memories.” She gingerly plucked another one out of the air; it wasn’t creamy and smooth, but black and jagged. Ginny was once again whisked away to Tom Riddle’s deepest memories. When she came back she was stunned, her face had gone ghastly pale and her limbs were shaking savagely.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, horrified at what she had seen.

“What are you doing?” a boyish voice broke through her thoughts. The projection of Ginny whirled around and her eyes widened when she saw a projection of Tom Riddle standing in front of her, cold fury lighting up his face.

“What did you see?” he asked harshly, glaring at her before glancing around. His eyes caught sight of the black orb hovering over Ginny’s shoulders and they narrowed.

“You should not have done that," Tom said shaking his head. "Now I’m going to have to kill you.”

“You already were so I guess there is no difference,” Ginny replied defiantly.

“Actually, Ginny Weasely, I wasn’t. It’s only Harry Potter that I seek. You were just my means, but now after what you have witnessed, I’m afraid I will not be able to let you go.” Tom said in mock sadness.

“Goodbye, Ginny Weasely.” he said, waving farewell. His image began to fade, a chilling smile spreading across his lips as he left, bent on killing Ginny’s physical body. Seconds later however, his image flickered before restoring to its original state. Shocked and confused, Tom stood still. Ginny stared at him coldly.

“I will not let you go,” she said steeling herself.

“Not let me go?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her. "Are you the one doing this? How?”

“I don’t really know actually,” Ginny confessed. “But I cannot let you kill Harry and I am definitely not letting you kill me.”

“Well since I can’t kill you physically, I’ll just have to destroy your mind,” he said, laughing evilly as he conjured his wand. Ginny stepped back in apprehension before realizing she could do whatever he could. Ginny concentrated hard on what she wanted and commanded her wand, feeling it settle in her hand. Opening her bright brown eyes, Ginny brandished the wand, readying herself for whatever Tom threw at her.

“What is this? You are going to fight me?” Tom asked with a laugh. “Please, you are a mere child and I am the greatest wizard in the world.”

“Oh yeah, the greatest wizard in the world huh?" Ginny said sneering at Tom. "I didn’t know great wizards could be reduced to their death by little babies who don’t even know how to talk.”

“You dare mock me child?” Tom thundered, his anger rising.

“I dare,” Ginny replied, staring evenly at him. “Expelliarmus!” she screamed firmly, raising her wand to Tom as sparks of light flew from her wand to disarm Tom.

“Obliviate!” Tom yelled at the same time, pointing his own wand at Ginny. Tom’s spell hit Ginny’s, but Tom was too powerful and practiced, his charm defeating hers and hitting Ginny, throwing her roughly to the ground.

Laughing, Tom lowered his wand arm and walked towards Ginny who was sprawled dazed on the floor.

“Little Ginny Weasely, I must say I admire your courage. But to even think you could challenge me and defeat me is ludicrous. Unfortunately for you, you won’t remember your moment of bravery, in fact, you don’t remember anything now.” Tom laughed pleasurably at Ginny’s memory erase.

Ginny rolled over and looked at Tom with confusion written all over her face before narrowing her wide innocent eyes and whipping her wand in his direction.

“What!” Tom said bewildered, backing away, starting to bring his wand up.

“Stupefy!” Ginny hollered, casting the hex with all her strength and concentration. The spell hit Tom Riddle forcefully and blew him off his feet, knocking him to the floor cold.

“Petrificus Totalus,” Ginny said in a controlled voice as Tom’s arms and legs pressed tightly against his body, binding his limbs together. Finished, Ginny sighed exhausted and sat down on the floor, her heart and head pounding.

“What happened?” she asked herself in amazement. “Why isn’t my mind erased?”

“That’s because even though Tom’s spell defeated yours, the spell you cast weakened his greatly and it didn’t effect you in the way is should of," her conscience explained in her mind. "The two spells countering created a little shield that protected you from the full force of the spell.”

“But I remember everything," Ginny said puzzled at how the spell affected her. "There is nothing I have forgotten.” Then her eyes widened as she realized where her mind drew a blank.

“His memories!” Ginny said distraught.

“They have been erased," Ginny said dejectedly. "I can’t remember what I saw.”

“Why did it only erase those memories and not everything that happened after it as well?” Ginny asked.

“I believe it has to do with his intent in casting the charm and the way your own disarming spell effected his," her conscience informed her. "Tom cast spell to erase all your memory, but when he was, his main focus and intent was to erase the memories that you had obtained by rifling his own. So when your spell damaged his, only his main intent go through since you didn’t totally kill the spell, just hurt it severely.”

“This isn’t good,” Ginny said to herself, “Those memories were important, I know it, why else would he erase them? I just have this feeling that I need them.”

“I suggest right now we get out of here before the hexes you did on Tom Riddle fade,” her conscience advised. Ginny nodded in agreement and focused her mind, withdrawing herself from Tom’s mind and going back to her own.

Ginny could hear Harry outside in the chamber fighting the basilisk and Tom’s cruel laughter.

“Wait, how come he is still awake?" Ginny wailed. "He’s been stunned!”

“That was his subconscious," her conscience explained. "Tom is not unconscious like you are so his conscious self is still awake and functioning.”

“Oh, great, all that for nothing,” Ginny moaned.

“I wouldn’t say that,” her conscience replied. Before Ginny could ask what she meant, Harry plunged the basilisk’s fang into the diary, releasing her from Tom’s hold and Ginny felt herself physically waking up.

“Ginny!” she heard Harry calling her name softly. “Ginny don’t die, please don’t die,” he said frantically, shaking her softly.

Ginny opened her cinnamon eyes and met Harry’s own bright green ones.

“Harry,” she whispered before collapsing weakly in his arms.

Present Time

Ginny Weasely yawned, stretching her arms above her head before setting them back on the kitchen table next to her cold mug of her four hot chocolate. The dream was haunting her and she couldn’t sleep, she was afraid to sleep, afraid next time she wouldn’t be able to escape the nightmare. She had been sitting at the kitchen table silently since she woke up, just staring outside and now the sun was beginning to rise, its early morning rays wafting in through the windows.

Ginny heard feet moving around upstairs and then thudding of shoes hitting the stairs as they came down. Mr. Weasely walked into the kitchen hurriedly, straightening his tie and robes, breezing by Ginny to brew a pot of coffee, not noticing his daughter sitting there staring at him expectedly. When he noticed the chocolate bar wrappers littering the counter and the empty carton of milk, he turned around slowly.

“Ginny! What are you doing up so early?” he asked in bewilderment as he looked at his only daughter. “You do remember that it is summer and you can sleep in right?”

“Yeah, Dad, I just couldn’t sleep that’s all,” Ginny admitted as she twirled her mug on the table.

“Oh I hate that,” Mr. Weasely said, “What was it, too hot or something in your room?”

“Something like that,” Ginny answered, staring back out the window. Arthur Weasely watched his daughter who was obviously disturbed, but he knew she would talk about it in her own time. Having so many kids taught you that kind of stuff.

“Alright darling, I’m going to work, try to get some sleep,” Mr. Weasely said, dropping a kiss on the top of Ginny’s messy hair before gathering his folders and apparating. Ginny watched the bewitched clock as her father’s arrow left home and a few moments later pointed at work.

Ginny sighed trying to release her tension and got up from the table, walking over to the kitchen sink and placing her mug in it. She turned around and trudged up the stairs towards her room intending to get dressed. She pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans and a black sweater, pulling on some black boots afterwards. School was starting in a few days and they were going to Diagon Alley to get their supplies. Ginny couldn’t wait to get back to school because summer had gotten boring.

A few hours later, the rest of the family had woken up along with Harry Potter. Ginny checked herself in the mirror before leaving the confines of her room. Sure it had been five years since she had first met him, but she still had a tiny crush on him. What’s wrong with trying to look her best? Ginny trampled downstairs into the kitchen where her Mom, brother and Harry waited patiently for her.

“Ready to go, Ginny?” Mrs. Weasely asked her daughter.

“Yup, I’m ready,” Ginny affirmed, nodding her head as well.

“Let’s go then,” Mrs. Weasely decided, motioning for Ginny to move forwards. "Ginny, you first, then we’ll follow behind."

Ginny walked towards the fireplace and grabbed the pouch of floo powder resting on top of the mantle. Reaching into the pouch she grasped some of the glittering powder in her hands and cast it into the fire.

“Diagon Alley,” Ginny’s voice rang out clear before she stepped into the fire that transported her there.

Ginny landed amongst the bustle of witches and wizards and she stayed, waiting patiently for her Mom, Ron and Harry. A flash of pain flitted in her mind and Ginny grabbed her head with her hands as the pain passed. Annoyed, Ginny shook her head and stamped her foot impatiently, they were taking forever. Again a flash of pain swelled in Ginny’s head, but it wasn’t as fleeting as the previous as Ginny gasped in pain and grabbed her head again, swaying on her feet. Images filtered into her mind, flashing briefly and she couldn’t grasp them as she continued to fight against the pain in her head. Finally, the bombardment ended and Ginny sank to her knees panting heavily, still cradling her head in her hands.

“Ginny!” Mrs. Weasely called hysterically, hurrying toward her daughter’s side.

“Are you ok, Gin?” Ron asked, coming to rest next to her, helping Ginny to her feet.

“I’m fine,” Ginny replied in an overwhelmed voice.

“What happened?” Harry asked, standing behind her, placing his hand on her arm.

“I don’t know, my head just exploded in pain and then all of a sudden it stopped,” Ginny said, confused.

“That’s weird,” Ron commented.

“Yeah, then there were these-“ Ginny paused, her cinnamon eyes widening. “Oh my gosh!” she screeched as Ron, Harry and her Mom gave her concerned glances.

“I’m starting to remember, but how?” Ginny said, misunderstanding filling her voice.

“Remembering, remembering what?” Harry asked baffled at Ginny’s strange behavior.

“I can’t really say myself, it’s only bits and pieces, but the important thing is that it is coming back!” Ginny said excitedly.

“Ginny, for heaven’s sake, what is coming back?” Ron shouted aggravated.

“My memories from the Chamber of Secrets,” she whispered.

“Shush Ginny, don’t say that aloud!” her mother scolded her, grabbing her arm. “What is this nonsense you are babbling about?”

“Ginny, you already remember everything that happened down there,” Ron reminded her.

“Not that stuff," Ginny said. "Not what Harry did. What I did.”

“Ginny, you didn’t do anything, what are you talking about?” Harry asked in wonderment.

“Harry Potter! You weren’t there the whole time! You don’t know what happened down there, what happened to me, what he did to me,” Ginny shouted, her voice growing softer at the end. Horrified that she yelled at Harry, Ginny turned and dashed away from them into the midst of Diagon Alley’s crowds.


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Lord Voldemort stopped mid step as he walked with his death eaters.

“My Lord, what is it?” one of them asked concerned.

“She is remembering,” he hissed.

“Forgive me, my Lord, who is remembering?” the death eater asked puzzled.

“How is this possible?” the Dark Lord mused to himself, oblivious to his followers persistent questions. “I erased her memory of it. She should not be able to remember.”

“Who, my Lord?” another death eater interrupted his thoughts. Lord Voldemort glared at him shortly before answering

“Ginny Weasely,” his replied with a hiss. “I want you to assemble the Dementors. She can no longer be allowed to live. She is starting to remember something vital and I cannot let her alert anyone.”

“Yes, my Lord.” he bowed low before hurrying off to do his Master’s bidding.

“You cannot escape me this time, Ginny,” he whispered picturing the redhead in his mind. “You will die.”


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Ginny sprinted through the crowd, barging into various witches and wizards as she ran by. Slowing to a halt, Ginny stood in the middle of Diagon Alley, stopping to catch her breath. Ok so it was immature to run away, but she felt really embarrassed, going off on Harry like that, he did save her life down in the Chamber, it’s just that, that he doesn’t know, no one knows what happened, the battle in her mind against Tom, she told no one.

Ginny shivered as she felt the air around her grow thin and cold. Screams erupted all around Ginny and she looked up and added her screams to the noise. Black ghostly creatures were flying above Diagon Alley, their black capes floating eerily behind them. People scattered in all directions, but Ginny froze on the spot, her horror preventing her from moving. She stared petrified at the Dementors as they drew near her, the iciness of the air threatening to choke her. Her dream, just like her dream

Ginny snapped out of her shock and fled away from the terror flooding the hidden streets of London. Legs pumping hard, Ginny ran blindly through the streets not sure where she was going, but determined to get away from the Dementors, maybe they were not after her. She glanced backwards briefly as she ran and to her utter dismay; the Dementors were right on her tail, hovering near her as she ran. Ginny forced her legs to move faster as she tried to get away, but no matter how fast she went, it seemed as if the Dementors were with her every step of the way and gaining.

The different shops blended in as she ran by, her feet pounding against the gravel street. Ginny didn’t notice the pothole until too late. The hole was filled with water that reflected the pavement, masking its identity as Ginny’s foot stamped into it, her the toe of her shoe catching the end of the pot hole causing her to lose her balance and fling to the floor. Ginny skidded against the floor, gravel rocks ripping her clothes as she slid across them, tearing her jeans and slicing the skin beneath. She gasped in pain as the tiny cuts began to sting all over. Placing her hands against the gravel, Ginny raised herself off of the ground, putting her left foot down for support. Her right foot she placed next, attempting to run again when she realized, as sharp pains shot up her leg, that she had sprained her ankle.

Gritting her teeth, Ginny looked back at the Dementors who were not very far off and began to run, hobbling at first before gaining speed, a limp hindering how fast she could go. The pain ripped into her with each step she took, but her survival instinct took over, the adrenaline blocking out most of the pain, numbing it until it was reduced to a dull ache. Dirt garbed her face and robes, her black sweater was ripped in several places, and blood seeping through from scrapes and cuts.

She swept around a corner as fast as her leg would allow and ran down a back alley, looking for a way out. Puddles of muddy water sloshed as she pounded through them, dodging broken wooden crates and rusty trash cans. Ginny turned when she reached the end of the alley, expecting another one to go through, but she smashed into a brick wall instead. Stars exploded in her vision, as it clouded to black, her head pounding as hard as her heart. She reached up and grabbed her head with her hands and felt sticky warm blood seep onto her fingers. Ginny woozily grabbed onto the wall for support, her legs becoming wobbly and weakening. Then she remembered:

She felt them before she heard them, they had caught up to her and she was trapped, nowhere to go and no strength to fight, not that she could beat them even if she did. They stood at the entrance of the alley, black robed bringers of death, then glided effortlessly towards her bringing a chill that even she couldn’t escape, a chill that froze her body, that filled her mind, her heart and her soul.

They were swarming her now, touching her with their ghastly, scaly hands. Ginny lifted her head up weakly, her dull cinnamon eyes staring at the one standing in front of her, its black cloak billowing in the night’s frosty wind. It reached out with both hands and grabbed Ginny’s shoulders, hauling her to her feet, her body protesting earnestly. Ginny stared, powerless to do anything as the Dementor brought its face close to hers and Ginny closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable, waiting for it to suck out her soul.

Her dream, this is what she dreamt, almost exactly. Cold fear filled her heart when she realized the truth. That’s when she heard them, they had reached her, they were coming for her and she had nowhere to run and her head was beginning to swell in her hand, the lose of blood weakening her and Ginny was growing faint. The frostiness hit her next, colder than the ice age, an artic freeze of the soul as well. Ginny was petrified, never had she felt so much fear in her life, reality was darker than the dream.

They flooded the air around her, the mid afternoon sun was blocked out by the amount of them and everything turned black, starless darkness. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck as shivers traveled up her spine. They reached out for her, their scaly hands beckoning her and she couldn’t resist them. One of them swooped to hover in front of her, its black robe flowing liquidly around its hidden body. It smelled of death and decay with a hint of burnt flesh. The Dementor reached out and grabbed Ginny’s neck, cutting of her air and brought her close, drawing its head to her.

“GINNY!” she faintly heard the voice yelling above the voices now flooding her mind.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Harry’s strong voice filtered through the air. A brilliant flash of light lit up the alley and Ginny could see the Dementor holding her freeze, its deathly face inches from her.

Harry, Ron and Mrs. Weasely watched as a beautiful silver stag arose from Harry’s wand and reared its antlered head before charging the Dementors, making them scattering and draw away from Ginny. When the last one had left, the three ran over to her. Harry caught her as Ginny sank to the floor, no strength left.

“Ginny! Ginny, can you hear me?” Mrs. Weasely asked frantically, tugging on her daughter’s robes.

“Mum…” Ginny said weakly, her vision was foggy and she could barely make out dark shapes hovering over her. Her brown eyes dulled and rolled in the back of her head and she grew limp in Harry’s arms as her mother’s screams filled Diagon Alley.


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I hoped you like it. Please read and review! If you are confused at all or have any questions do ask.

.:Angelgrl185:.