Chapter 1: Prologue

Summary:

(Sorry, crappy title, hate titles) Harry doesn't save Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets. While mourning her death, and dealing with his shitshow relatives, he finds someone he can confide in. Tom seems nice enough, and best of all doesn't want anything from Harry. He's there to help when he can. Friends grow up, and the prospect of becoming more is on the horizon. But there's a reason Tom is so mysterious, and everything he's told Harry is a lie. But what does that mean for their friendship?

Why didn't she talk to someone? Dumbledore said Ginny had been possessed by the blank book found beside her, that she'd let it into her mind. I don't know how that works, but I suppose if the Weasley's accept it then I shouldn't kick off. They were her family after all... are her family. She might not be alive now, but Molly will always be her mother and Ron will always be her brother. They are her family. Only Fred and George seemed to have a problem with that explanation like I did. It was clear Dumbledore knew more than he let off, he always knew more than he said, but that wasn't enough for the twins this time. They wanted to know why their sister was dead, why it took two fucking days to notice she was missing, and why nobody seems to know who killed her. They wanted justice. I get them, I shared those thoughts. Dumbledore never tells me anything when I need to know, always just after so he can make it a life lesson. It just fucking sucks he's making a life lesson risking a young girl's life. I just wish I'd done things differently.

I can't help but wish she'd tried to get rid of it, just so I could find it. At least then if she'd taken it back, I'd have known that demon book existed. I'd have known to look for her as soon as I stopped seeing her at breakfast. Maybe I could have found her sooner, stopped whatever monster was in that book from devouring her life for its evil purpose. I could have saved Hermione from being petrified somehow, so she could decipher the location of the Chamber of Secrets before Ginny went missing. She was the only reason we actually found it because Ron wouldn't do anything without her. He could have followed the spiders with me but he got scared and decided to wait by her bedside instead, and not because he fancied her like he was trying to portray. Just so he wouldn't have to pretend to be brave like he should be. And yet he blamed me. When we finally found the god-forsaken place under Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and I opened the door with Parseltongue, Ginny was laying on the floor. She could have been sleeping, flat on her back on the cold, wet stone, with her eyes closed and one hand curled over a black book beside her soaked robes.

After we gave up shaking and screaming at her, stopped trying to summon life back to her dead eyes, Ron had turned on me. Apparently, it was my fault that we didn't find her because Hermione was taken down and I hadn't stepped up to be a leader. I didn't yell back. I wanted to because he was being so unfair, but he'd lost his sister and was just looking for someone to blame. Her killer wasn't there but I was. Hermione didn't stop him either, which did bug me. Why wouldn't she stick up for me, when Ron was clearly in the wrong? That was usually her job, but maybe she was in the same state of mind I was. Just let him run his anger down to grief. I kept my mouth shut as we pulled her back to the end of the pipe, and let Ron bellow to Myrtle for help. I didn't even speak when I heard Ron say the same things to Percy in Dumbledore's office while we waited for Molly and Arthur. His dad seemed distraught but looked at me as he looked at the rest of his children, like he was there for me when the grief took hold. His mum didn't even look at me, making it clear that she thought the same as Ron. Dumbledore didn't say a word until he'd flooed two more people into his office, that the twins identified as their older brothers Bill and Charlie, the two I'd never met before. They stood close to me, and Bill and Charlie hugged me when they hugged Fred and George. It was nice that they didn't all blame me. I wasn't losing my whole family, just those who mustn't have thought highly of me to start with.

I had to hold Fred and George back when they tried to bully more answers from Dumbledore, and hold them up when they cried. Molly dragged them away from me when the family was given permission to leave early, and Hermione left with Ron before either of them had to talk to me. Ginny may not have been my true family, but I was grieving too, so it cut me deep to have my family dragged away. Dumbledore escorted me to the Dursley's and that was it. The school closed early for an investigation, and my year at Hogwarts was over. No word from either of my 'best friends'. Fred and George had sent me letters, an apology for not being allowed to Ginny's funeral, and apologises for Ron's behaviour. They came to see me once and said Ron was going to stop being my friend, and that Hermione was sticking with him. All Ron had talked about those few days before was how much he'd always hated me for risking their lives, and that he couldn't stand my 'sad childhood' act. They advised I didn't go near him when we went back to school for our third year, because he'd no doubt grovel for my popularity to feed his own. I agreed. Seemed only Fred and George were willing to go against their family's views and talk to me, though I was assured the Bill and Charlie wanted to but had to go back to Egypt and Romania. They also thought their dad was conflicted, because he'd asked them to wish me a happy birthday.

So here I am, sat on a swing in the park, sulking. Not swinging, just sitting and thinking. About how my only true friends had abandoned me for something that wasn't my fault. About how a girl I thought of as a sister had died, cold, alone and wet, probably terrified of whatever took her life. And about how I couldn't attend her funeral, the closure I needed was denied to me. I was to spend an extra week with my awful relatives. Not just eight weeks, but now nine weeks, and a visit from my nasty Aunt Marge. The summer couldn't be worse. Someone sits on the swing next to me, but I don't move, I don't really care at this point. I just carry on thinking, 'summer can't end fast enough'.

"Hello. Are you alright?"