Who: Ginny Weasley What: A Nightmare When: Saturday night Where: Lilu's cabin Why: Because you can't outrun your past Rating: G Status: Complete
It was dark. The kind of dark that felt heavy and swallowed you up completely. The dark that eyes can't adjust do and ears play tricks in. It pressed on her from all around until she didn't know which way was up. And yet...she knew exactly where she was.
The musty smell burned her nose and the damp air sent a child down her spine that went through her to her core. Every inch of her screamed 'Get out. Get out now.' Blindly, she felt out in front her, desperately searching for a wall or something to guide her. Each passing second made the panic rise up in her until she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. She stumbled through, her hand pressed to the slimy wall of the tunnel, unsure of if she was even traveling in the right direction, but somehow knowing that standing still would be worse.
She wasn't aware of entering the larger room, but she found her self in it suddenly. The eerie green glow of magical firelight lit the space, casting dancing shadows on the walls and floor. She could make out her surroundings now, and spun around searching frantically for the tunnel that would lead her out of there.
"You can't leave." She knew that voice and her blood ran cold. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes darted around trying to find where the voice was coming from. "Well,I suppose you could try to leave but we both know you won't get very far, Ginevra." She couldn't see him, but she knew he was close. And worse, yet, that he was right. He knew the Chamber much better than she ever would and if she tried to run, he'd find her. She reached, instinctively for her wand, but it wasn't there and she wondered how she even got here in the first place. She'd been safe in the village. She'd been in a different world.
"Did you think that you could just forget about me, Ginevra?" She could hear his footsteps echoing off the walls of the Chamber and she still couldn't figure out where he was. "That hurts me, you know. We used to be so close." His voice was as silky as she remembered it being. She felt sick to her stomach. "I used to be all you could think about."
"You're dead. You're dead and you aren't real." She said hoarsely, more for her own benefit than his. She stood up straighter, determined not to shrink away like the little girl he might remember.
He laughed. That cold, hollow laugh that pierced through her like a blade. Her fists clenched by her sides and she could hear him moving closer still. "You foolish girl. Do you think you could be rid of me so easily? Do you think me so weak that I can be stopped? You were never particularly bright, were you Ginevra?" He laughed again and she shivered, resisting the urge to shrink in on herself. "Simpering, pathetic little brat. Pouring your heart and soul into a diary and believing anything I told you." He raised his voice, in what was supposed to be a mimic of her own. "Oh, Tom! I don't know what I'd do without you. Oh, Tom! You are the only one who understands me! Oh, Tom! When can I meet you? When can I see you?" Her eyes were stinging with tears, but she couldn't move. Her feet were rooted to the spot and she felt like she was made of lead. "And I indulged your fantasies, because you see, my dear, sweet Ginevra." She could feel his breath on the back of her neck now. His hand ghosted along her arm, sending goosebumps across her skin. "I needed you." He was whispering in her ear now and she felt a small fire growing inside of her, still unable to move though. "You let me in and now I'm a part of you. A part of you that you can never be rid of. I'll always be right here. Inside of you. Waiting and biding my time."
She spun around, ready to fight him. Ready to take charge. But he was gone and she felt nothing but searing pain in her head.
Then all at once, she was on a couch, covered in cold sweat and breathing heavily, sitting up board straight. It took her more than a moment to find her bearings. Couch. House. Not her house. Lilu's house. Babysitting Po.
The memory of the day came trickling back to her one hazy detail at a time. But she could still feel the breath on her neck and she could still hear that cold, cruel laugh ringing in her ears.