A Failed Ritual

Fandom: H*rry P*tt*r

Chapter 1: The Death of Harry Potter

Harry hissed at the door. It opened slowly in response, the sound of the metal grinding on stone assaulting his ears.

He calmly stepped through the opening, the entrance closing behind him.

He was actually a big bundle of nerves at the moment, but he couldn’t let that show. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness.

He had stepped into a large room. The ceiling was high and covered in stalactites. The floor was cracked, but he could still make out the stone tiles.

He easily spotted Ginny Weasley lying on the floor at the other end of the room, her bright red hair standing out from the gloom of the chamber.

Harry wouldn’t exactly call Ginny his friend, nor was whatever relationship existed between them exactly the same as with other students at Hogwarts.

Harry was something of a loner. He barely participated in extracurricular activities. He had initially been interested in maybe Quidditch, but that had gone out the window when he found out first years weren’t allowed to play on the team, and then second year, Draco Malfoy’s father, Lucius, had essentially purchased Draco a spot on the team by donating seven top of the line brooms to the team. Incidentally, Draco’s new position was the exact one that had just opened up.

Harry had toyed a little with the idea of intimidating Draco off the team, but that would have inevitably come back to bite him when Draco ran crying to his father.

How the sorting hat thought Draco Malfoy could possibly belong in Slytherin, Harry did not know.

During the year, to Harry’s surprise, Ginny Weasley, of all people, had somehow ended up being a loner like him. All those older brothers, and they barely acknowledged her.

Harry had very quickly discovered his fame in the Wizarding World, and had equally quickly grown to despise it. All the fawning, the requests to see his stupid scar, the comments of “you look just like your father”, and the way everyone in Leaky Cauldron had wanted to shake his hand.

While initially annoyed at Dumbledore ignoring his request to not be accompanied to Diagon Alley, Harry had to admit, Hagrid’s ability to keep most of the fawners away from him was rather nice. Of course Hagrid had also been a bit of a fawner himself, but he had at least tried to act professional. Harry could respect that, at least. Not much respect, but an amount, nonetheless.

Ginny had never been one to fawn. Oh sure, Harry knew she had had a massive crush on him, but other than some blushing, it never seemed to come up.

Fine by Harry. The concept of someone having a crush on him was just bizarre to him.

Ginny becoming a loner similar to Harry had initially struck Harry as being odd — when he had previously seen her, she had seemed much more outgoing and energetic. Now, she was quiet and withdrawn.

Something had changed over the summer. Harry of course didn’t pry — it would have been very rude. Plus, Harry didn’t really care all that much. It wasn't like they were friends. They were just two loners who occasionally sat at the same table in the library.

No one sat with Harry. It was basically an unspoken rule by now. Harry had long since scared all his yearmates away with some vicious pranks, culminating in jinxing all of Ronald Weasley’s hair to fall out. Seriously, that boy was so annoying.

Harry had never gotten in trouble, as no one could ever actually prove it was him. It had sent a message though — leave him alone.

This year had been both better and worse. Better in that the older students had told the new first years to avoid him. Worse because of Colin Creevey. It took Harry causing the annoying boy to trip on some stairs, landing him in the hospital wing and smashing his camera. Not irreparably, but Creevey had finally gotten the message.

Ginny, however, never tried to talk to Harry. She just sat, doing her homework, reading books, or writing in her diary. Because of this, Harry never felt the need to try and chase her off like he did with everyone else.

Back to the present, Harry crouched next to the unconscious Ginny. He quickly grabbed her wrist to feel for a pulse. He was relieved when he felt one.

Not because she was alive, but because saving someone’s life tended not to work if they died.

Ginny was lying on the floor, a peaceful look on her face, like she was asleep. Her hair fanned out around her head, her skin was pale, and a small book was tucked under her arm.

“Come on, Ginny, wake up. I can’t carry you out of here.” He gently shook her shoulder, then slightly more vigorously, but she remained unconscious.

“She won’t wake,” a voice said.

Harry turned to the source of the voice. He saw a boy, a few years older than him. He was wearing a Hogwarts Uniform, the trim green, placing him in Slytherin. Harry noticed a small prefect’s badge pinned to the robes.

“Who are you?”

The mystery boy — whom Harry noticed was also partially transparent, although not nearly as much as a ghost — ignored him.

He stepped over to Ginny, prying the book from her arms.

“Who, the fuck, are you?” Harry asked again.

The boy looked at him, a small smile on his face. “Why, Harry? Don’t you recognize me?” He smirked. “I’m not surprised. Last time you saw me, you were a baby after all.” He flipped through the book, inhaling deeply as if smelling it. “I am Lord Voldemort, of course.”

Harry definitely did not gasp at that. Harry Potter does not gasp.

The boy, Voldemort, smiled cruelly at Harry. “I’ve heard all about you, of course. The Boy-Who-Lived. Tell me, how is it that a mere infant, only just having turned one year old, was able to defeat the greatest sorcerer who ever lived?”

“I don’t know. Ask my parents.”

Voldemort sighed. “Well, it was worth a try. Regardless, some of what else I’ve heard about you is… very interesting. You push away everyone who ever tries to talk to you. The only person you ever seem remotely able to tolerate being around is Ginny Weasley. Some of what you have done to people who annoy you is… very sadistic. Not quite to my level, yet, but you do remind me of myself.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to learn it, but some of what I’ve done back at the orphanage is way worse.”

“Is that so?”

“I nearly killed someone.”

At that, the teenage Voldemort seemed speechless, and almost impressed.

Harry smirked.

“Really? That’s what shocks the terrible Lord Voldemort?”

“Only that you did that. And so young, too.”

“Oh please. I know for a fact you’ve killed before.”

“I haven’t, actually. Not personally, at least.”

“But you killed my parents,” Harry growled. “That totally counts.”

Voldemort laughed. “I won’t deny that a version of me killed them, but I have yet to. You see, Harry, I am not the same Voldemort you met as a baby. I am a memory, preserved in a diary.” He gestured to the book he was holding. “A genius work of magic, if I do say so myself. I was even able to make this version of myself act with autonomy, something that is supposedly impossible. And yet… here I am.” He gestured to himself as if to demonstrate. “Granted, there are limitations. I don’t have a physical body of my own. What limited ability my current phantom form has to interact with the physical world can be attributed to young Ginny here.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“It’s very quite simple. What is it one does with a diary? They write their thoughts. Their feelings. Their very soul is written into the diary. And so, Ginny Weasley wrote her soul into me. And with each word, each thought and feeling, I grew stronger. Closer and closer to having a body of my own.”

Harry quickly drew his wand, pointing it at the phantom.

Voldemort sighed. “That won’t work, Harry. At least, not as much as you may be used to. As a trade-off to my limited effect on the physical world, the physical world has a limited effect on me. Convenient, isn’t it?”

“So spells will have an effect once you get a body then, huh?”

Voldemort smirked. “Oh, definitely. But you won’t be alive to try.”

He turned around, facing the massive statue of Salazar Slytherin.

“Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four!” he shouted in parseltongue.

Harry felt his heart rate spike as the statue’s mouth opened. A loud hiss could be heard.

Harry scrambled off the floor, backing up quickly.

A large, bright green snake slithered out. Its fangs were as long as Harry was tall. It continued coming out of the mouth.

“Attack!”

Harry turned and ran. There was no way he could fight that thing.

“Run all you want, Harry. Eventually, you will tire. And then you will die!”

Harry was quick to find that the Chamber was a total maze. He sprinted through an opening off the side of the main Chamber. He desperately hoped to find somewhere too small for the basilisk, but no matter how many tunnels he ran down, he had no luck.

Imagine that — the chamber built to house a basilisk had tunnels large enough for that basilisk to navigate.

Harry had to come up with a plan B. Not that his plan A was any good to begin with. He started taking turns down different tunnels every chance he got, hoping to confuse the snake.

Plan B also didn't pan out. Unlike what its size would suggest, the snake was very maneuverable. It was time for a plan C. The only problem was Harry was drawing a blank on a plan C.

What could Harry do against a basilisk, really? Its hide was nigh impenetrable, and no spell Harry could do could ever hope to scratch those scales. The gaze was deadly, meaning even just looking at the snake was a massive risk. The snake could easily crush Harry with its bulk, being as wide as he was tall. Of course, the venom was also a problem considering it was possibly the deadliest and most corrosive substance ever.

Harry was beginning to appreciate just what the basilisk was — a specially bred killing machine.

Harry burst out of the tunnels, finding himself right back in the main chamber. He had no time to think about just how turned around he had been, since the snake was hot on his heels. He sprinted back up towards where Ginny and Voldemort were. He saw Voldemort crouching on the ground, using what Harry imagined was probably Ginny's wand to inscribe some runes on the floor. They glowed faintly with a red light.

"Ah, Harry. Right on time. You will get to witness me regain a body as you die."

Harry was so shocked he nearly got caught by the basilisk. As it was, he just barely dodged its strike, diving to the ground to avoid the fangs. He rolled away, pointing his wand at the snake.

"Depulso!"

The snake's head snapped back a little, but it immediately focused back on Harry. The snake hissed in annoyance — Harry could clearly decipher that from the parseltongue profanities — and reared back to strike again.

As the snake struck, time slowed down. Harry once again tried to roll out of the way, but his body felt sluggish. He was too slow.

Pain exploded in his right shoulder as the basilisk fang pierced the skin. Harry yelled as the agony immediately set in. His shoulder felt like it was on fire, and that fire quickly spread out from the wound.

The snake pulled back, the fang causing further damage to his shoulder as it was removed.

It hurt so badly, Harry could barely move, much less scream. But he must have screamed, his throat hurt after all. Maybe that was from the venom, though. Harry couldn't think clearly.

Harry struggled to his knees through the pain, turning to face Voldemort. Voldemort looked up from his drawing.

"Impressive. Most people would be dead by now. You've been writhing in pain for around a minute now. My ritual is finally all ready."

Voldemort had placed Ginny's body in the middle of the circle of runes. The diary had also been placed on Ginny's chest.

"Good bye, Harry Potter." Voldemort began hissing in parseltongue. Harry could understand him, but he was finding it hard to decipher words, no matter what language they were in.

The scar on Harry's forehead suddenly felt like it was on fire and frostbite at the same time. Harry felt as if some force were trying to dig into the scar and pull a chunk of his brain out. Harry's vision started to go dark.

And then, it stopped. The pain in Harry's shoulder faded to a dull ache. The pain in his scar went away entirely.

Suddenly, the pain came back, more intense than before. Harry howled as an unseen knife dug into his skull, millions of tiny invisible needles piercing his skin all over. It felt to Harry as though he was being torn apart.

SNAP!

Suddenly, as the pain left Harry's body. He felt as though he was floating. He blinked, his vision clearing. He was moving towards the ritual. Voldemort was nowhere to be seen, and Ginny was still passed out. The diary on her chest was open, flicking wildly through the pages. Ink was appearing on every page, running off the diary. As soon as it touched Ginny, it disappeared — not as though it evaporated, but as though it had been absorbed into Ginny's skin.

Harry continued to be pulled along, being bumped around, twisting every which way. Harry noticed another body, lying on its front and covered in blood and muck. Huh. That kinda looks like me.

Then everything went dark.

Harry heard teen Voldemort's voice, hissing, "what is this? This was not supposed to happen." He heard a girl, Ginny, screaming in agony. Finally, it all went silent as sleep, or perhaps death, claimed him.

Chapter 2: The Aftermath

When Ginny woke up, everything hurt. She blinked, staring up at the ceiling. 

Where am I?

She tried to move, but after shifting her hand perhaps an inch, it hurt so bad she stopped.

Ginny passed back out.

The next time she woke up, the pain had faded somewhat, and was largely concentrated in her head. The ceiling she could see was very different, and her surroundings were much brighter. She could feel soft sheets on her body.

She lay there, awake, not daring to move.

"What the fuck?" she suddenly said. Why she said it, she had no idea. She hadn't meant to.

"Ginny!" That was her mother's voice. Shit.

"Sorry, mum," she said, her voice hoarse.

"Oh don't worry about that." Ginny's mum's face moved into her view. "You're awake, that's the important thing. And after what Dumbledore said you went through… well, we can excuse the foul language just this once, although I do wonder where on earth you could have heard that from."

Ginny tried not to roll her eyes. Both because she didn't want her mum to see and also because she suspected it would hurt. It wasn’t  like that sort of language was new to her, she had overheard her older brothers using it plenty, even if they tried to avoid it when they knew she could hear. Plus, Harry tended to mutter under his breath a lot, and he certainly didn’t have any filter.

Ginny coughed. "My head is killing me."

"Considering all that happened, that's not exactly surprising, Miss Weasley," a voice said. Ginny recognised it as belonging to Dumbledore.

Ginny tried to shift so she could sit up and actually see the room she was in, but her mum put her hand on her shoulder, and she stopped.

"I'm not entirely certain what happened. Some sort of ritual, I believe. Whatever it was seemed to involve soul magic. Regardless, it fortunately seems to have failed. Not without consequences, of course, as your current state shows, but the outcome could have been much worse."

Ginny mentally nodded. Oh for sure. Tom could have…  Ginny's thoughts ground to a halt. Who was Tom? What could he have done that would be so bad? Why did Ginny know this name yet not know who that could possibly be?

She was just about to ask Dumbledore if he had any idea what that was about, but something stopped her. She wasn't sure what it was that stopped her, and it made her uneasy.

However, she felt she really shouldn't tell Dumbledore what was going on, actually. It might ruin things even more than they already were.

Woah. Wait. What does that mean? Ruin things more? What things? What was already ruined?

"Alright, Albus, just ask her your question. She needs her rest if she's to recover." Ginny didn't exactly recognise this voice, but she assumed it was probably Madam Pomfrey.

"Right. Naturally. Miss Weasley, I must ask you one thing. What is it that happened down there, in the Chamber of Secrets? Might it perhaps have anything to do with the attacks we've had so far this year?"

Oh, that was an easy question. Tom had, of course, been making her… making her what? Again, who was this Tom?

Once again, Ginny thought about asking Dumbledore why her thoughts were so messy, but again something stopped her.

"I don't know, sir. I… I can't seem to remember." Ginny found it a strain to say even that much.

And with that, she passed out once more.

The next time she woke up, the pain was almost entirely gone. All that remained was a dull throb near the back of her head, and her throat felt very dry.

She sat up and looked around. She was definitely in the Hogwarts hospital wing.

Besides her, it was entirely empty. There weren't even petrified students in any of the beds, and Ginny was pretty sure there were supposed to be.

How long have I been out?

Ginny shifted, sliding her legs out of bed. They felt shaky, but she managed to stand on them anyway.

She continued to stand in place for what felt like hours, but was really just a few seconds, before Madam Pomfrey came bustling right back into the room.

Ginny complied when the healer had her sit back down on the bed. She heard as the witch announced that Ginny was supposedly fine and that she could go. Ginny quickly got changed into some casual clothes, and soon found herself out in the hallways with directions to Dumbledore's office that she had barely paid any attention to.

Apparently, Dumbledore wanted to talk to her.

Somehow, her feet managed to carry her the right way.

Along the way, she had time to think about what she remembered. Or rather, what it was she didn't remember. It felt like there were several conspicuous gaps in her memory. They were spread throughout the year. There were also several fuzzier memories, all seeming to revolve around her writing in her diary. A diary which she conveniently could not remember ever receiving. The first large gap in her memory was on Halloween night. She remembered classes and she remembered going to bed, hearing rumours about some petrified cat, but the entire evening in between was a total blank. There were a few other times like this, with a few more small memories scattered over the year that were just… gone.

"Well, look what we have here. The littlest Weasel. The supposed untouchable one. Looks like there's no Potter anymore to protect you."

Ginny turned to the sound of the voice, spotting a skinny blonde boy flanked by two larger boys. Malfoy Crabbe and Goyle. Of course. Harry had ranted about them enough times for Ginny to be very familiar with these "fake Slytherins."

Wait, what did he say? No Harry anymore? What?

Before she could comprehend what they meant, she was surrounded.

"What do you want?" Her voice came out a little weak, but she attributed that to disuse, not fear. Of course these hooligans didn't scare her.

"Oh, I just want to teach you your place, Weasel. No more Potter for you to hang around, pretending you're better than everyone else, just as he did."

"I'm pretty sure he is actually better than you. A hundred times better, even."

Malfoy scowled. "You watch your mouth, blood traitor."

The other two boys cracked their knuckles threateningly.

Internally, Ginny felt nervous. She was not bad at muggle fighting. She had roughhoused with Fred George and Ron when they were younger, back before she came to Hogwarts. Back before they ignored her because "little girls weren't cool." Before Tom… had done something, Ginny still couldn't remember who Tom was or why she kept thinking about him.

But these two boys were massive. She figured if they got ahold of her, she was completely fucked. Malfoy however? She highly doubted the spoiled kid had ever roughhoused with anyone, much less been in an actual fight (well, Ginny also hadn't been in an actual fight). Ginny figured if she could push her way past the blonde idiot, she could easily make a run for it.

It turned out, she didn't need to at all.

"Ah, Miss Weasley. Just the young lady I was expecting. Come in."

Ginny looked over to where Dumbledore's voice had come from, spotting him in a doorway which Ginny was sure had just been an alcove with some statue or another a moment ago.

Immediately, the three boys' demeanour changed. They moved so they were standing together opposite the new doorway. They stopped glaring at her, and tried to avoid catching Dumbledore's eye.

"P-Professor, sir," Ginny said.

Dumbledore looked to her, then past her at the boys. "I must ask what you boys were doing here. Were you hoping for a chance to talk to me?"

Malfoy shook his head. "No, sir."

"Then I insist you run along."

The three boys immediately scrambled to head down the hallway, back the way Ginny had come. When they rounded the corner, Dumbledore turned back to Ginny and gestured for her to follow him through the doorway, behind which there was a spiral staircase.

Ginny made to follow, but as soon as she put one step on the stairs, her head screamed at her. Danger!

Ignoring this, Ginny continued pushing up the stairs. This was Dumbledore! Surely he would never hurt her?

Upon reaching the top, Dumbledore pushed open another door, and gestured for Ginny to go inside. She did, Dumbledore following and shutting the door.

Ginny couldn't help but stop and look around the room, which was clearly Dumbledore's office. There were all sorts of strange trinkets moving around, or emitting differently coloured clouds of smoke that evaporated almost immediately. Behind the desk, which had a stack of papers so large it must have been held in place by magic, were several portraits, all currently sleeping.

Dumbledore conjured a small but comfy-looking chair on the opposite side of the desk from his own chair before he sat down. Ginny took that as her cue to sit down as well.

Dumbledore sighed. "I believe it is prudent to inform you right off the bat that you are not in trouble, Miss Weasley. I have summoned you to my office for other reasons."

"What other reasons, Professor?"

Dumbledore let out another, longer sigh. "Well, first of all, I must ask again if you could possibly tell me what it is that happened in the Chamber of Secrets."

Ginny frowned. A voice in the back of her kept insisting that he must not know, but what was there for Ginny to tell him? She certainly couldn't remember even where this chamber was, much less what happened inside it.

"I still don't remember, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I figured as much. Several of your memories from throughout the year appear to be entirely missing with no trace. Ordinarily I would assume a memory charm was used, but there aren't even signs of that. Whoever did this to you was very good."

Internally, Ginny was panicking a little bit. Externally, she continued to try to look calm.

"There are, however, some things I have managed to guess on. When I finally managed to get inside the Chamber, you were found lying in the middle of a ritual circle which was unfortunately rather burnt, as though it had backfired spectacularly. You yourself had sustained some minor burns to your arms and legs, but it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix. What this ritual could have been remains a mystery, and several experts have examined the burnt circle so far."

"Are there any guesses, Professor?" Ginny continued trying to seem calm. It was hard, but she really tried.

"All that we can guess is it was probably related in some way to souls in some way, considering one of the less burnt symbols looked fairly similar to that for the soul. It could also have meant 'cat' or 'feet.' While feet is likely not the correct option, the symbol for cat has several applicable rituals, so we really can't rule that out. Honestly, the more telling thing is that whoever is responsible knew those sorts of symbols, they aren't widely known at all."

"So you know who it could be?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "The knowledge isn't so rare that we can know everyone who does know what those symbols are. Anyone could know them, although I doubt it could have been a student here."

"What about older students?" Ginny asked.

"Possible, I imagine, but all but two students in the entire school actually have decent alibis."

"Which two students?"

"Well, one is you, of course. The other is Mr. Potter."

Ginny's heart nearly stopped. "Harry?"

Dumbledore nodded, a sad look on his face. "He was found down in the Chamber with you."

"Then where is he? I didn't see him in the hospital wing. Malfoy said he was gone, did he go to St. Mungo's?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm so sorry Miss Weasley. Mr. Potter is dead."

Ginny felt like her heart stopped. "What? No! That's not… he can't be…" she trailed off, staring blankly at a wall.

That must have been what Malfoy had meant. Harry Potter, the closest person Ginny had to a friend, was now dead.

And Ginny, despite not remembering why, felt as though she should know.

After that, there wasn't anything left for Dumbledore to say. He sent Ginny to head back to her common room.

Oh, the Gryffindor common room. The one place Ginny felt most alone. And, what was worse, there were other people there. People who certainly would start asking questions of her.

Curious little shits.

Ok. That certainly hadn't been her thought.

Scared, Ginny started to turn to head back to Dumbledore's office.

Oh, we can't have that.

Ginny felt her body being wrenched from her control, turning back away from Dumbledore's office, and she felt herself being forced to walk, with determined, confident strides.

She emerged out onto the astronomy tower, which was thankfully empty. She looked around. Or rather, whoever was controlling her body did. She was forced to be a passenger in her own body. Again.

Wait. Again? When was the first time?

She had overheard her dad complaining about the Imperius curse to her mum once before, when she was around nine. She briefly wondered if this was that, but just as quickly she dismissed it. You always felt totally in control under that spell.

Wait, what? How did she know that?

You know it because I know it, you silly girl.

What. The. Fuck.

Chapter 3: Reaching and Agreement

Ginny had entered a state of total panic. There were strange voices in her head. Not only that, but somehow she knew that this wasn’t exactly new. She just didn’t remember it ever happening before.

Oh, calm down before you start hyperventilating you stupid girl. We have real problems here.

“Get out! Get out! Fuck, please!”

Ginny heard the second of the two voices sigh.

‘We already told you, we can’t get out. We’re stuck in here now, thanks to Mr. Dark Lord over here.’

Oh, how is this my fault, oh great Brat-Who-Lived?

‘Well, it was your ritual, dumbass.’

You dare?!

‘Of course I dare, it’s not like you can do anything about it.’

Wait, Brat-Who-Lived?

Ginny’s mind was having trouble keeping up with everything the two voices were arguing about, but she focused on that.

“Harry?”

Well, looks like you aren’t a total idiot after all! The voice belonging to not Harry said.

Ginny was suddenly filled with dread. “Tom?”

She winced as she suddenly got a splitting headache.

Ok, I’m done with using that name.

‘And what should we be calling you, Voldemort hardly feels appropriate for the pip-squeak version of.’

Ok, that’s it. As soon as I have a body again, you and this stupid girl are dead.

Wait, WHAT?!

“V-Vol-” Ginny couldn’t say it.

‘Oh spit it out, it’s just some stupid made up name.’

Ginny shook her head. She was also hyperventilating now.

Oh, now you did it, Potter.

‘What did I do?’

You were the one that said my name, and now she’s freaking out.

‘She can deal with it, she’s tougher than you might think.’

Potter, you imbecile. I spent the entire school year possessing her. I think I know her better than you do.

‘Eh, whatever. Still, we will need her help if we want to get bodies again.’

I could just take her body over if I wanted.

Ginny heard a sort of mental growling from Harry. ‘Like hell you will. I won’t let you.’

Despite everything, Ginny still felt a small spark of warmth at Harry being even slightly protective of her.

Why should you care?

‘I got into this mess because I was trying to save her, I sure as well won’t stop trying to protect her now.’

How noble.

‘Maybe it is, maybe it’s selfish. I sure as hell won’t tell you my motivations.’

Well, maybe you aren’t a total idiot.

Ginny groaned as she stood up from where she had collapsed to the floor. “Alright, you two, what do you want?”

To get a body back, obviously.

‘What pip-squeak Voldy said.’

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Right, stupid question.”

Also, could you try thinking quietly at us instead of talking, someone could overhear.

‘Uh… hi?’

‘Hi, Ginny! How you doing?’

‘That is definitely a stupid question.’

Voldemort mentally laughed.

‘So… you need my help?’ Ginny asked nervously.

‘That is what I said. You see, both Voldemort and I want to get our own bodies again. Problem is, if you don’t cooperate, we’d basically need to eject your soul and do it ourselves. Of course, Dork Lord here is all for just doing that anyway, but you see, I would much rather keep you alive.’

Oh, she would still be alive, just in a wraith form a little bit like my older self probably is, and she could even have her body back after.

‘Point is, I don’t want to go about expelling your soul, so instead, I would very much like it if you would cooperate.’

Ginny thought about it, she began pacing. ‘Of course I’d help you Harry! What do I need to do?’

She felt Harry mentally wince. ‘See… that’s the little issue here. We don’t know.’

A Philosopher’s Stone would work!

‘That’s great! If the only one I know of wasn’t currently in the possession of Dumble-fucking-dore, that is.’

Then we make one.

‘And how exactly do we do that? Do you know?’

Well… no.

Ginny turned to look over the railing at the rapidly darkening Hogwarts grounds. ‘Hang on. I only agreed to help Harry. I am absolutely not helping Vold- uh… Tom.’

Please don’t call me that. Just use ‘Voldemort.’

‘That’s the issue. Due to the way we ended up in this situation, Voldemort’s soul and mine are linked, for now. Helping one of us regain a body, by necessity, would help the other in order to actually properly undo that link.’

Voldemort laughed cruelly. And there you go. Help your precious Boy-Who-Lived, and you help the greatest Dark Lord of all time. Help neither of us, I expel your soul and do it anyway.

‘No, I’m not letting you go about doing that. Either she helps us or we’re stuck together for the rest of Ginny’s life.’

Ginny felt her resolve strengthen. She may be way out of her depth, she may be terrified. She had Voldemort stuck in her head, for Merlin’s sake. But she’d be damned if she let him regain a body because of her.

Oh, my older self will get one anyway. Perks of having a split soul. And then he’ll come along and retrieve me anyway. And then you will be dead.

Oh. Shit.

Ginny wasn’t sure how to respond to any of that. She was an 11 year old girl, for fuck’s sake. This was a super powerful dark lord whose name most feared to even say, and for good reason.

‘If we help you… will you swear to never cause harm to either of us?’

‘Harry?’

There was a pause for 5 seconds. 10 seconds. 15 seconds.

‘Well?’

I could.

Harry growled again. ‘Will you?’

Fine, I’ll swear an oath. Happy?

‘Not happy, just satisfied.’

Ginny felt a little left out. ‘Hey, what about what I want?’

Oh, it’s very plain as day, you want to help Potter. That also has the side effect of helping me. Therefore, Potter proposed a solution. I swear an oath to not harm either of you, you swear oaths to help me. Do we have a deal?

‘Please, Ginny. I would gladly stay in here for decades, protecting you from him, but I think I would rather not be stuck sharing a body with you for the rest of your life.’

Ginny leaned over the railing, looking down. The drop was quite far. For the rest of her life, huh? Looks like that could be a pretty short timespan.

NO!

Ginny felt her body throw itself backwards, away from the railing, jerked from her control yet again.

“Ouch!” she yelped as her butt hit the stone floor.

You are not killing yourself. Not when you can take me with you!

Well that was just great. Stuck in this horrible situation, and she couldn’t even kill herself to get out of it.

‘Fine. Deal.’

She felt relief from Harry, and a smug satisfaction from Voldemort.

‘So how do we do this whole oath thing?’

Like this.

Ginny felt her body slip from her control once again. She watched as her own hand reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand, holding it out in front of her.

“I, Tom Marvolo Riddle,” Ginny felt a shiver of revulsion coming from Voldemort. “Swear, on my magic, to never harm either Ginevra Weasley or Harry Potter on the condition that they help me regain a body.”

There was a flash of blue light at the tip of her wand, then Ginny felt this strange feeling in the back of her head. Probably the oath being accepted by Harry. She mentally thought about accepting the oath too, and felt a similar feeling, this time more throughout her mind.

Your turn, Weasley.

Ginny held her wand out the same way Voldemort just had. She opened her mouth to say the oath, but hesitated.

‘Go on.’

Ginny swallowed. “I, Ginevra Molly Weasley, swear on my magic to help Tom Riddle and Harry Potter.”

And also not give our little situation away to anyone else.

Ginny swallowed again. “And to not reveal Tom Riddle or Harry Potter’s situation in regards to me.”

Another flash of blue light. Another two weird feelings of the oath being accepted in the back of her head.

‘Well, I guess it’s my turn.’

She felt her arm move, controlled this time by Harry, to hold her wand out yet again.

“I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic to assist Tom Riddle in regaining a body.”

A third and final flash of blue light. A final feeling of acceptance in the back of Ginny’s head.

‘Just to make sure.’

Ginny sat down on the floor, her mind moving at a mile a minute.

What on Earth had she just agreed to?

Chapter 4: Belongings

‘We need my cloak back,’ Harry thought.

And what, Voldemort responded, do we need with an article of clothing?

Despite how much Ginny distrusted the teenaged dark lord stuck in her head, she had to agree. What on earth could they need Harry’s cloak for?

‘It’s not a normal cloak. It’s an invisibility cloak. Used to belong to my dad, I got it sent to me anonymously last year.’

And you just put it on?

‘Well, no. I took it to Professor Flitwick to see if it was cursed first.’

Ginny snorted out loud, earning her a funny look from that bushy haired bookworm second year – Harmony Granger or something like that. She ignored her. ‘Invisibility cloak, huh? That could definitely be useful.’

Weasley’s right, Voldemort said. Great, now he was agreeing with her. Will wonders never cease? An invisibility cloak is just all around useful. How would we get it, however?

‘It should still be in the Slytherin dormitories. We can just go and get it.’

Brilliant plan! Except, it wasn’t. There was just one massive problem with it.

‘I’m a Gryffindor, Harry, remember? You kept complaining about us sleeping in a bed with all that red, which as a result kept us awake all night long.’

We could use a disillusionment charm, Voldemort said. It’s not as good of invisibility as we’d get with a cloak, but it’ll do fine for this.

And that’s how Ginny now found herself, invisible except for a barely noticeable shimmer, sneaking around in the dungeons in the dead of night, not even in control of her own two feet as Harry brought them to the Slytherin common room.

Harry supplied the password. “Sacred twenty-eight,” he whispered. The wall didn’t budge. “Shit, the password changed again.”

‘Of course, it did,’ Ginny thought. ‘Just our luck.’

Oh, let me try something. Voldemort switched with Harry, taking control of Ginny’s body. He hissed something in parseltongue, which Ginny perfectly understood to be ‘open.’

The wall slid open.

Figured that out in my third year. It makes sense, of course, that Slytherin’s dormitories could be opened with parseltongue.

They crept inside. The common room was empty except for a couple of older students passed out on a couch, books lying open on their laps.

Must be 5th or 7th years, Voldemort thought. They still have their exams.

Earlier that day, after the petrified students had been cured, Dumbledore had announced that all exams had been canceled, save for the exception of OWLs and NEWTs (Harry and Voldemort thought the exams were named stupidly).

Harry took control again and walked them over to the hallway leading to the boys’ dormitories.

He stopped at the second door, gently pushing it open.

There were 6 beds, all with their curtains drawn closed, save for one. Harry made his way over to it, kneeling down to check under it.

“Shit,” he hissed, quietly. “My trunk’s gone.”

‘Gone? How could it be… Dumbledore?’

I was afraid of this. Harry is, technically, dead, so his belongings would be removed from the dorms to be returned to his family.

Harry growled out loud. “Like hell they are. I would rather burn them than have them sent back to those assholes.”

Ginny was taken slightly aback. ‘Harry?’

‘I don’t wanna talk about it. We need to get my stuff back. Or, at least my wand and cloak. I don’t give a shit about the books.’

‘Well, we don’t know where they are right now.’

They’d probably actually be in Dumbledore’s office, Voldemort thought.

Harry stood up. “Great, so we either have to break in and steal something from frikkin Dumbledore, or we have to talk to him. I don’t like either option.”

‘I… might be able to persuade him to give me your wand and cloak.’

The next morning, Ginny stood waiting outside the great hall. She had gotten up bright and early so that she could talk to Dumbledore before breakfast.

When she spotted the headmaster, she waved at him. He noticed and came over.

“Miss Weasley? What is it I can do for you?”

Ginny looked down at the floor, trying to put on a bit of a sad act. “I, uh… I was thinking, last night. About Harry, and everything. And I thought that it would be nice to have something to remember him by, you know? Maybe something that belonged to him, like his wand or something. Something special.” Ginny sniffled, trying to sell her act. “He was the only friend I had this year.” Ginny mentally crossed her fingers. Hopefully she had tugged at Dumbledore’s heartstrings just enough.

She glanced up to see Dumbledore stroking his beard in thought. “I suppose that would be fair. After all, given Harry’s family were muggles, it remains entirely up to me, as headmaster, what should happen to them. I was originally intending to simply send them to his family anyway, but if it would mean that much to you…”

Ginny nodded. “It would mean a lot to me, Professor. He was my best friend.”

Ginny saw Dumbledore’s eyes soften. “Well in that case, Miss Weasley, meet me at my office after breakfast.”

Ginny gave Dumbledore a small smile, attempting not to seem overly happy. Internally, she, along with Harry and Voldemort, were relieved. That was step one of their plan completed.

“Oh by the way. I find myself a bit peckish for skittles.”

And on that note, the headmaster swept into the Great Hall.

Following breakfast, Ginny quickly made her way to Dumbledore’s office.

She paused in front of the gargoyle she now knew to be the entrance to his office.

‘Uh, do we need a password?’

We do indeed. Although I’m not entirely sure what it is.

‘How about skittles?’

What about them?

‘Well, Dumbledore did just tell us he liked skittles, maybe he was telling us what the password was?’

He’s certainly nuts enough to do that. Try it, Weasley.

Ginny rolled her eyes and said, “skittles.” The gargoyle lept aside, revealing the staircase behind it.

What even are skittles?

‘Some sort of muggle sweet. A- someone I knew liked them.’

Harry had almost said a name. An old friend? The sadness in his thoughts was clear to Ginny, however.

Ginny ignored Harry’s melancholy state and started climbing the stairs, raising her hand to knock on the door once she reached the top. Before she could knock, Dumbledore’s voice spoke, “enter,” and the door opened by itself. Ginny put her hand back down.

“Ah, Miss Weasley. Good. I have already gathered all of Mr. Potter’s belongings for you. Wasn’t terribly difficult, most were still in his trunk and schoolbag.” He gestured to the trunk leaning against the wall. “His wand was damaged, but it is still fully functional; the damage was entirely superficial.”

Ginny nodded and moved to pick up the trunk.

“Allow me.” Dumbledore waved his wand and the trunk started floating. “There, that should last around 10 minutes, plenty of time for you to bring it to your common room.”

“Thank you, professor.” Ginny grabbed one of the handles, and turned to leave.

“One more thing. One of Harry’s belongings is an invisibility cloak. It is also in that trunk. I will not forbid you from using it, but I will, of course, request that you use it responsibly.”

Ginny didn’t turn to face the professor. “Of course, professor,” she lied.