Chapter 10

Ginny woke up in the infirmary and cautiously felt around in her mind. She couldn’t feel him in there, but she hadn’t before either. A polite cough to her left and she turned her head over slowly, a headache pounding through her skull. Dumbledore was sitting there, looking very worried. Azrael clambered up onto her bed, mewing anxiously as he cuddled up to her neck. She stroked his head tiredly, eyes on Dumbledore. “Well, I think what we all wanna know is how and why Voldie decided to come and play.”

“That is secondary to your well being.”

“I’ve had an evil guy in my head, rummaging around. And I think Voldemort is more then slightly gay. It was highly disturbing.” She closed her eyes again, concentrating on the soothing purrs throbbing against her skin. Think about that, not what nearly happened.

“Is she alright, professor Dumbledore?” She heard Ron say in a worried whisper.

“Well enough to tell you to go away. You didn’t run, and then you didn’t make Potter run. Do you have any idea how hard it was not to let Voldemort kill him? Please, I don’t want to hear it. Just leave,” Ginny said with bitter weariness.

“I think your sister has made her wishes clear, Mr. Weasley, though I do wish you would reconsider.” Dumbledore’s tone was slightly disapproving.

Ginny laughed harshly. “Oh there is very little I have to say to him, except for leave me the hell alone and don’t pretend now that you care.”

“But I do, Ginny.” Ron sounded near to tears.

“You don’t. Now, please leave me alone.” Ginny settled to ignoring him.

“Isn’t it lovely how she’s hurting, Albus?” Voldemort hissed.

“Ron, leave now.” Ginny opened her eyes and forced Voldemort down so she could concentrate. “Get Draco, Mordred, Vortigern and Blaise. Go now, please.” She felt resigned, this was what her life had become and she needed to fight it. Ron was watching her in horror. “Please, Ron. There are things Tom will do and say that will hurt you. I don’t want that. Go.”

“Ah, yes. Her little band of defenders. Go and get them, boy.” Azrael twitched nervously. Ron left running after a nod from Dumbledore.

“Azrael, go to Hermoine. Stay away until this is over,” Ginny ordered her cat. He left. “Professor, please. I think we need Snape for this.”

“Severus. I haven’t spoken with him nearly enough lately, or caused him enough pain.”

“Tom, stop it.”

“You *are* a silly girl if you think I’ll stop now.”

“This is a battle that I intend to win. Now, I’ve asked you all nice like. Be polite and leave, you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

“I was never polite.”

“On the contrary, Mr Riddle, I always found you to be unfailingly polite.” Dumbledore leant forward slightly, the mild manner in which he delivered his words not hinting at the anger Ginny could see in his eyes.

“That was a mask, you old fool,” Voldemort hissed at Dumbledore. “I was hiding then, conserving my strength.”

“You were doing it then, and you’re doing it now. You’re hiding out in my mind like the coward you are.”

“I most certainly am not. I’m using you to hurt those around you, and displaying my strength.” Ginny pushed him away and under.

“You know what I feel like? I feel like the girl in the Exorcist. Maybe you should get a priest.” Ginny laughed softly. Dumbledore was impressed by her strength of mind, she could still laugh. “If my head spins one eighty, we’ll know we’re in trouble.”

“Indeed.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled slightly.

“You know what’s really annoying about this? They’ll just think my whole re-invention thing this year was Voldemort’s fault. Any idea how annoying that is?”

“I can see how it would be quite vexing.” Ginny was just glad that the anger she saw in Dumbledore’s eyes wasn’t directed at her. The Slytherins stepped trough the door, Snape looming behind them.

“You called, prof?” Mordred grinned before going to Ginny’s side. “Hope your jaw’s feeling alright.”

“It was either you punch me out, or let Voldemort kill someone. What’s a little pain to a extremely noble and stupid Gryffindor?”

“You tell me, I’m just a sneaky Slytherin. We prefer to save our own skins, Flame.” The two shared a grin.

“You weak, spineless traitors, I’ll see you all die slowly, begging at my feet and crawling like serpents on your bellies.”

“Shut up, Tom. You’re not part of this discussion.” To her amazement, she felt like something clicked inside her head. A howl burst from her lips as Voldemort tried to speak, but failed. “Ah, gotcha on the run now.” Ginny smiled evilly. “When you punched me, it hurt him too.” She put her hand in Mordred’s. “Break my wrist.”

“No fucking way!” Mordred yelped, dropping her hand like it was red hot.

“Believe me when I say it can’t be worse then the utter violation I’m going through at the moment. This is worse then the Chamber.”

“There may be a potion I can brew to help you eject him,” Snape interjected. “Granted, he is not quite the text book version of an evil spirit, but it should work. Zabini, Vortigern Pendyrwyrdd, follow me please.” Snape swept out, the two following him. Ginny levered herself up onto her elbows.

“I’ve got him shut up in a corner now. It’s hard to keep him there. He’s quite, quite pissed. He can’t get out, he’s trapped in my head while his body lies elsewhere. If I can keep him here long enough, he’ll die.” Ginny started to laugh in triumph, her eyes shining in a type of madness. “And you can die in my head, you *bastard*. I’m going to make you *hurt*.”

“Very Slytherin of you, Ginny,” Draco chuckled.

Ginny grinned at him. “Oh, hell yeah.” She could feel Voldemort raging inside her mind, striking hard blows against the cage she had constructed for him. She contracted the walls, and he screamed. “Oh, he screams so nicely.” She had nearly forgotten Dumbledore’s existence until he politely cleared his throat.

“Miss Weasley, do you mean to inform me that you have the mind of Lord Voldemort trapped by yours?”

”Oh, I don’t have his mind. I have his soul.” Her body jolted on the bed as if struck by an invisible hand. A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. “Ow,” she said dryly. Draco and Mordred chuckled. “But it hurt him too, so, bonus!”

Vortigern raced up to the door and leant on it, panting from his run from the Dungeons. “Professor Snape begs thine indulgence, but the potion will take at least two days to devise. He pays pardon.”

“By that time, Tom will be dead.” Ginny’s eyes rolled up in her head, showing white all the way around. She devised a series of symbols to help her focus. It seemed to her that she stood on a featureless plain and Tom was trapped inside a large metal cage as he had appeared in the Chamber of Secrets, five years ago. She studied him dispassionately, while still listening peripherally to the room. “Hello, Tom.”

“Ginny Weasley. You think you’ve got me trapped here? You do not know what you are dealing with.” He brushed his dark hair out of his eyes and glowered balefully at her.

“I made you take a weaker form. This is my mind after all, Tom.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I have you fooled.” Tom threw his head back and laughed. Ginny watched him and then thoughtfully put more bars on the cage. “I’m a wizard, Ginny. A very talented one.” He raised his wand and she scrambled desperately to halt whatever he was going to do.

On the bed, Ginny screamed, arched her back and disappeared.

“What the fuck?!” Mordred leapt to his feet from his seat at her side and ran his hand over the bed. Nothing. There was nothing there.

“It seems Lord Voldemort has more then one trick up his sleeve.” Dumbledore sounded infinitely weary.

“So, what are we going to do?” Draco whispered, his eyes glued to the empty bed.

“There is nothing we can do,” Dumbledore said with finality. “We can’t know where she’s gone, or what spell Voldemort used to take her wherever she went. Perhaps we can track her, but unless she contacts us…” A silence fell over the room, and then Mordred threw back his head and howled. Vortigern came forward to wrap his arms around his twin as Mordred keened like a wolf in the winter. At least he had an outlet for his pain. Draco looked like he was cast in stone, he was so still and his face frozen. Vortigern just let his twin shout their anguish to the skies.

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