Chapter 29: The Growing Darkness
“Where the bloody hell do you think you’re going?” the voice called accusingly down the hall. She sighed, stopping in her tracks. The hurried footsteps of an angry Ronald Weasley echoed down the long, quiet hall. She set her bag down on the floor, and spun around, her eyes fierce, knowing she was about to rush headlong into an argument.
“Ron, didn’t Harry tell you?” she asked, her voice dripping with impatience. She wanted nothing more than to be rid of this house. It was really beginning to have an affect on her.
“That you would be taking off in the middle of the night without a word to anyone? ‘Mione, what’s going on?” he asked, as he reached her, looking down pointedly at her bag.
“I got an owl from Michael. He asked me to come home for the holidays,” she answered.
“You’re leaving for your boyfriend? ‘Mione, we need you here!” Ron protested.
“I know, but it’s the first time he’s asked me to come to him…and, oh Ron, you just don’t understand, you’re not in a relationship. It’s really important that I go, that’s all,” she explained. Ron stared back at her, his eyes hard, and Hermione knew that she was definitely in for an argument. But Ron surprised her.
“You’re right, ‘Mione. I’m not in a relationship, so how could I possibly understand what kind of position you’re in? It must be really hard to be involved with someone who never makes time to see you, yet is very quick to ask you to drop everything important to go to him. But I suppose you should go then. But could you do me a favor before you leave?” he asked, his tone civil, missing the usual hint of sarcasm it bore when he spoke of Hermione’s boyfriend.
“Yeah, sure,” she asked, her brow furrowed as she pondered his strange reaction. She was expecting temper and the usual strange bout of jealousy that was his usual reaction whenever she mentioned his name.
“Could you stop in and say goodbye to Gin? She’s been hidden in her room for hours, and won’t come out. I’m worried about her. Something is different with her – involved with Malfoy, hiding something from me…It’s just very strange coming from Ginny. Could you just, you know, check in on her…being a girl and all, she might talk to you,” Ron said.
“Yeah, of course,” she said.
“Thanks. Have a good holiday,” Ron said simply, before he turned, leaving Hermione standing in the hall with a shocked look on her face.
* * * * *
It had been growing in her all day. From the moment her fingers had made contact with the Slytherin rune on the bottom of the wand, she’d felt the growing weight begin to consume her. Her argument with Draco had been but a momentary distraction, as the fear from what she was reading and discovering about the connection to Guatemala and Salazar Slytherin combined with the spreading dark power throughout her body began to consume her.
It brought back so many memories…Half-memories, really. The sensations that would
devour away at her reality moments before she would wake up, hours later, not know what she’d done. A comforting whisper in that back of her mind, urging her not to fight the power, to give in to it, to play a part in the noble plot that would only enrich the wizarding community.
She’d never been able to forget that whispering voice. She’d also never been able to ignore it. It always became too strong, and soon, Ginny would drop away, and something else would take over, and there was no telling what would happen.
It had been growing in her all afternoon. Lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, she was contemplating what she could do, any method available to her to fight this off. It was like a vise gripped around her ribcage, and the more time that passed, the tighter it became – until either she gave into it, or it broke her. It had been hours since she’d been able to move – the weight of the magic working against her had become too much and had paralyzed her.
But she wasn’t the scared little girl anymore. She was stronger, wiser and unwilling to give in without one hell of a fight. Gasping as she struggled against the power that was attempting to immobilize her, she forced herself to stand. With a shuddering breath, she fought against the pain, moving agonizingly slow as she forced her limbs into movement. She needed her wand, and she needed to find Harry…or Hermione…or even Ron. She needed help. If she could just get to her wand, she could use a defensive charm, that would buy her some time before whatever power that was trying to take over her body would gain complete control. Ginny was afraid to use any other type of magic – whatever it was that was out there was attracted to power, and using too much could be much worse than none at all.
She cried out in pain as she planted her feet on the ground and forced herself to stand. Her eyelids were growing heavy, and her legs were shaking violently, trying to hold up the weight of her body combined with the weight of darkness that was growing inside her. The softly whispering voice became louder, stronger. She moved one foot forward, gasping to regain her breath, and then took another step. Her wand was lying on the dresser, not a foot away from her. Three more steps and she would be there.
She reached out her shaking hand, reaching with all of her strength, almost willing the wand to come to her hand. Each movement brought the weight of resistance even further down on her. The voice was screaming, so loud that it sent shivers of agony throughout her body. She could barely breath, and when she could, it was coming out in choking sobs. One more step and she could make it. Just one more.
She forced her foot forward, and her eyes began to swim with tears of relief as her fingers brushed the tip of her wand. She moved forward, hand ready to grasp the wand when a shockwave reverberated through her entire body, causing her to gasp in pain. She staggered backwards for a moment, still fighting, before she could take no more, and Ginny fainted, falling backwards to the ground.
* * * * *
Checking her watch, a Muggle taste she was loath to give up, she sighed. It was well past midnight – she doubted that Ginny was even still awake. She looked down the incredibly dark hallway, and shivered. There was just something in the air that was really starting to affect her. It hadn’t been around that afternoon when they’d arrived – in fact, Hermione had been rather surprised by the way this home reminded her of her own family home, just much, much larger and elegant, but there was a comfort about it that was homey. But now, in the dark, it was just plain creepy. Kind of like some of the darker, emptier hallways in Hogwarts.
Just as she was about to knock on Ginny’s door, movement far down at the opposite end of the hallway caught her eye. A flickering light was casting a shadow down the hall. Frowning deeply, she took out her wand, holding it ready as she began to creepy down the hall, following the flickering light. She could hear faint, light footsteps, and the soft sound of a door creaking open, and then clicking shut. After a few moments of silence, she started to run lightly down the hall, spying a crack of light showing underneath a doorway. She listened carefully, wondering who it was and what they could possibly be doing at this late hour.
She heard footsteps coming along behind her, and she quickly ducked behind a jutting section of the wall, deciding it was better to discover who it was before she revealed herself. In the very dim light of the hall, she saw a small, light-colored head pass by, and she released the breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. She stepped out of her hiding spot, and grabbed the other person’s arm.
“Be quiet Gabrielle!” Hermione hissed as the other woman let out a small shriek through the hand that Hermione had clamped over her mouth. “It’s me, Hermione.”
“What the hell are you doing, other than scaring the wits out of me?” Gabrielle hissed, as Hermione released her.
“I saw someone come down here, and go into that room,” she whispered back, using her hand holding her wand to point out the room she’d seen the mysterious person enter. Gabrielle turned to look, and shot Hermione a curious look.
“That’s just my dad’s study. It’s where he displays all of his souvenirs from his trips,” she answered, turning back to Hermione. Hermione was frowning strangely, looking past Gabrielle and staring with that strange look at the door. “What is it?”
“There’s a strange red light coming from it. That wasn’t there a few minutes ago. Gabrielle, who would possibly be up and around at this hour?” Hermione demanded, pulling the other girl back away from the door.
“Well, no one, normally, but there’s been a lot going on around here, I’ve noticed, since I got here. Look Hermione, that’s probably just my Dad, we should leave well enough alone. He won’t want to be disturbed if he’s doing something this late, it must be important,” Gabrielle said, her own eyes fixed on the eerie red light that was emanating from the study, seeming to grow brighter as they spoke. The sound of shattering glass interrupted their contemplation of the room, and they looked to each other, both faces full of unease.
“Gabrielle, stay behind me,” Hermione said, stepping forward, wand held out, as she crossed the hall.
“Hermione, don’t!” Gabrielle hissed, her voice full of fear as Hermione’s hand reached for the doorknob. Heedless of the other girl’s warning, she turned the knob and quietly pushed open the door.
The room was bathed in that eerie red light, casting strange shadows and making the ritual masks decorating the walls seem alive and menacing. At the center of the room across from them, a small figure draped in a black cloak stood with their back to them. A soft voice was chanting something in a language that Hermione didn’t even recognize, the tones menacing. As the flickering light grew brighter, Hermione was able to make out a distinguishing feature of the figure standing before her. She felt her blood run cold and an icy jolt of pure fear jab into her stomach.
“Ginny, what are you doing?” she asked softly. The chanting stopped, and Ginny turned around, holding something in her hand. Hermione gasped; Ginny was staring blankly back at them, her face expressionless with eyes that seemed to be glowing the menacing red color that the rest of the room was bathed in. She raised the object in her hand – it resembled a wand. She held it upright in front of her, just below her chin, and the soft chanting began again.
“Ginny! Tell me what is going on!” Hermione said, forcing her tone to sound commanding and forceful. The creepy blank eyes stared back at her, not acknowledging her words at all. It was then that Hermione knew – that wasn’t Ginny, not really.
As the soft chanting continued, the wand she held began to emit a series of white sparks from the tip. A trail of light seemed to travel upwards through the shaft, illuminating it, until a bright burst of light erupted from the tip, illuminating Ginny’s blank face and nearly blinding Hermione and Gabrielle.
“Ginny, what are you doing?” Gabrielle shrieked, her voice shrill in her panic. The girl before them didn’t answer.
“She doing exactly what she’s being commanded to do,” a deep voice said from behind Ginny.
“Where the bloody hell do you think you’re going?” the voice called accusingly down the hall. She sighed, stopping in her tracks. The hurried footsteps of an angry Ronald Weasley echoed down the long, quiet hall. She set her bag down on the floor, and spun around, her eyes fierce, knowing she was about to rush headlong into an argument.
“Ron, didn’t Harry tell you?” she asked, her voice dripping with impatience. She wanted nothing more than to be rid of this house. It was really beginning to have an affect on her.
“That you would be taking off in the middle of the night without a word to anyone? ‘Mione, what’s going on?” he asked, as he reached her, looking down pointedly at her bag.
“I got an owl from Michael. He asked me to come home for the holidays,” she answered.
“You’re leaving for your boyfriend? ‘Mione, we need you here!” Ron protested.
“I know, but it’s the first time he’s asked me to come to him…and, oh Ron, you just don’t understand, you’re not in a relationship. It’s really important that I go, that’s all,” she explained. Ron stared back at her, his eyes hard, and Hermione knew that she was definitely in for an argument. But Ron surprised her.
“You’re right, ‘Mione. I’m not in a relationship, so how could I possibly understand what kind of position you’re in? It must be really hard to be involved with someone who never makes time to see you, yet is very quick to ask you to drop everything important to go to him. But I suppose you should go then. But could you do me a favor before you leave?” he asked, his tone civil, missing the usual hint of sarcasm it bore when he spoke of Hermione’s boyfriend.
“Yeah, sure,” she asked, her brow furrowed as she pondered his strange reaction. She was expecting temper and the usual strange bout of jealousy that was his usual reaction whenever she mentioned his name.
“Could you stop in and say goodbye to Gin? She’s been hidden in her room for hours, and won’t come out. I’m worried about her. Something is different with her – involved with Malfoy, hiding something from me…It’s just very strange coming from Ginny. Could you just, you know, check in on her…being a girl and all, she might talk to you,” Ron said.
“Yeah, of course,” she said.
“Thanks. Have a good holiday,” Ron said simply, before he turned, leaving Hermione standing in the hall with a shocked look on her face.
* * * * *
It had been growing in her all day. From the moment her fingers had made contact with the Slytherin rune on the bottom of the wand, she’d felt the growing weight begin to consume her. Her argument with Draco had been but a momentary distraction, as the fear from what she was reading and discovering about the connection to Guatemala and Salazar Slytherin combined with the spreading dark power throughout her body began to consume her.
It brought back so many memories…Half-memories, really. The sensations that would
devour away at her reality moments before she would wake up, hours later, not know what she’d done. A comforting whisper in that back of her mind, urging her not to fight the power, to give in to it, to play a part in the noble plot that would only enrich the wizarding community.
She’d never been able to forget that whispering voice. She’d also never been able to ignore it. It always became too strong, and soon, Ginny would drop away, and something else would take over, and there was no telling what would happen.
It had been growing in her all afternoon. Lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, she was contemplating what she could do, any method available to her to fight this off. It was like a vise gripped around her ribcage, and the more time that passed, the tighter it became – until either she gave into it, or it broke her. It had been hours since she’d been able to move – the weight of the magic working against her had become too much and had paralyzed her.
But she wasn’t the scared little girl anymore. She was stronger, wiser and unwilling to give in without one hell of a fight. Gasping as she struggled against the power that was attempting to immobilize her, she forced herself to stand. With a shuddering breath, she fought against the pain, moving agonizingly slow as she forced her limbs into movement. She needed her wand, and she needed to find Harry…or Hermione…or even Ron. She needed help. If she could just get to her wand, she could use a defensive charm, that would buy her some time before whatever power that was trying to take over her body would gain complete control. Ginny was afraid to use any other type of magic – whatever it was that was out there was attracted to power, and using too much could be much worse than none at all.
She cried out in pain as she planted her feet on the ground and forced herself to stand. Her eyelids were growing heavy, and her legs were shaking violently, trying to hold up the weight of her body combined with the weight of darkness that was growing inside her. The softly whispering voice became louder, stronger. She moved one foot forward, gasping to regain her breath, and then took another step. Her wand was lying on the dresser, not a foot away from her. Three more steps and she would be there.
She reached out her shaking hand, reaching with all of her strength, almost willing the wand to come to her hand. Each movement brought the weight of resistance even further down on her. The voice was screaming, so loud that it sent shivers of agony throughout her body. She could barely breath, and when she could, it was coming out in choking sobs. One more step and she could make it. Just one more.
She forced her foot forward, and her eyes began to swim with tears of relief as her fingers brushed the tip of her wand. She moved forward, hand ready to grasp the wand when a shockwave reverberated through her entire body, causing her to gasp in pain. She staggered backwards for a moment, still fighting, before she could take no more, and Ginny fainted, falling backwards to the ground.
* * * * *
Checking her watch, a Muggle taste she was loath to give up, she sighed. It was well past midnight – she doubted that Ginny was even still awake. She looked down the incredibly dark hallway, and shivered. There was just something in the air that was really starting to affect her. It hadn’t been around that afternoon when they’d arrived – in fact, Hermione had been rather surprised by the way this home reminded her of her own family home, just much, much larger and elegant, but there was a comfort about it that was homey. But now, in the dark, it was just plain creepy. Kind of like some of the darker, emptier hallways in Hogwarts.
Just as she was about to knock on Ginny’s door, movement far down at the opposite end of the hallway caught her eye. A flickering light was casting a shadow down the hall. Frowning deeply, she took out her wand, holding it ready as she began to creepy down the hall, following the flickering light. She could hear faint, light footsteps, and the soft sound of a door creaking open, and then clicking shut. After a few moments of silence, she started to run lightly down the hall, spying a crack of light showing underneath a doorway. She listened carefully, wondering who it was and what they could possibly be doing at this late hour.
She heard footsteps coming along behind her, and she quickly ducked behind a jutting section of the wall, deciding it was better to discover who it was before she revealed herself. In the very dim light of the hall, she saw a small, light-colored head pass by, and she released the breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. She stepped out of her hiding spot, and grabbed the other person’s arm.
“Be quiet Gabrielle!” Hermione hissed as the other woman let out a small shriek through the hand that Hermione had clamped over her mouth. “It’s me, Hermione.”
“What the hell are you doing, other than scaring the wits out of me?” Gabrielle hissed, as Hermione released her.
“I saw someone come down here, and go into that room,” she whispered back, using her hand holding her wand to point out the room she’d seen the mysterious person enter. Gabrielle turned to look, and shot Hermione a curious look.
“That’s just my dad’s study. It’s where he displays all of his souvenirs from his trips,” she answered, turning back to Hermione. Hermione was frowning strangely, looking past Gabrielle and staring with that strange look at the door. “What is it?”
“There’s a strange red light coming from it. That wasn’t there a few minutes ago. Gabrielle, who would possibly be up and around at this hour?” Hermione demanded, pulling the other girl back away from the door.
“Well, no one, normally, but there’s been a lot going on around here, I’ve noticed, since I got here. Look Hermione, that’s probably just my Dad, we should leave well enough alone. He won’t want to be disturbed if he’s doing something this late, it must be important,” Gabrielle said, her own eyes fixed on the eerie red light that was emanating from the study, seeming to grow brighter as they spoke. The sound of shattering glass interrupted their contemplation of the room, and they looked to each other, both faces full of unease.
“Gabrielle, stay behind me,” Hermione said, stepping forward, wand held out, as she crossed the hall.
“Hermione, don’t!” Gabrielle hissed, her voice full of fear as Hermione’s hand reached for the doorknob. Heedless of the other girl’s warning, she turned the knob and quietly pushed open the door.
The room was bathed in that eerie red light, casting strange shadows and making the ritual masks decorating the walls seem alive and menacing. At the center of the room across from them, a small figure draped in a black cloak stood with their back to them. A soft voice was chanting something in a language that Hermione didn’t even recognize, the tones menacing. As the flickering light grew brighter, Hermione was able to make out a distinguishing feature of the figure standing before her. She felt her blood run cold and an icy jolt of pure fear jab into her stomach.
“Ginny, what are you doing?” she asked softly. The chanting stopped, and Ginny turned around, holding something in her hand. Hermione gasped; Ginny was staring blankly back at them, her face expressionless with eyes that seemed to be glowing the menacing red color that the rest of the room was bathed in. She raised the object in her hand – it resembled a wand. She held it upright in front of her, just below her chin, and the soft chanting began again.
“Ginny! Tell me what is going on!” Hermione said, forcing her tone to sound commanding and forceful. The creepy blank eyes stared back at her, not acknowledging her words at all. It was then that Hermione knew – that wasn’t Ginny, not really.
As the soft chanting continued, the wand she held began to emit a series of white sparks from the tip. A trail of light seemed to travel upwards through the shaft, illuminating it, until a bright burst of light erupted from the tip, illuminating Ginny’s blank face and nearly blinding Hermione and Gabrielle.
“Ginny, what are you doing?” Gabrielle shrieked, her voice shrill in her panic. The girl before them didn’t answer.
“She doing exactly what she’s being commanded to do,” a deep voice said from behind Ginny.
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