Title: Dangerous Game
Rating: R for disturbing imagery, violence, language and other things that I might not have particularly planned or cannot tell you for foreshadowing reasons
Archives: Naturally! Just tell me where you're putting me.
Notes/Disclaimers: The only things that I of Harry Potter are some Ron plushies, a Hedwig pillow, all 4 books, the two "school books", a poster, a calendar, some gloves, a Quidditch shirt, some metal tins, and a dozen or so magazine clippings. Also, this story will most likely be dark, scary, and disturbing. If it isn't then I haven't done my job as a horror writer. I've gone through and made this slightly more readable. Damned Imac didn't want to cooperate with me yesterday.
Synopsis: A mentally disturbed 16-year-old Ginny Weasley begins a new therapy program at the suggestion of her therapist. The therapy, write a story to exorcise her demons. However, what if in the process of moving her bad dreams from her head into a novel form, she resurrects a demon long thought dead?
Pairing: Ginny/??? Mentioned Ginny/Harry mentioned Ron/Hermione
Spoilers: Chamber of Secrets, Goblet of Fire
Dedication: To Lee, who is the real Ginny Weasley, to Steph for all the psycho plot bunnies, and to the Stephen F Austin State University School of Honors Computer Lab, where this plot was "born"
Feedback: Hell'zyeah!
Dangerous Game
Chapter 1: Dreams.
Blood. There was blood everywhere. On her hands, on her clothes, in her hair...she felt suddenly sick. Where had all the blood come from? She looked desperately around for something, anything, to wash away the blood. Then she saw them. The bodies. Ron, Hermione, Mum, Dad, George, Fred, Percy. Harry. All of them. They were all dead. Brutally mangled shells of torn flesh and dripping cold blood that had once been vibrant, happy, living human beings. She felt as if she were going to be sick.
There was so much blood, all over her, all over them, they were all dead and she was the only one alive. Then she heard it, the cold high sinister laugh that had haunted her dreams since she was 11. She turned to face the laughter, only to see a shadow in its place. She steeled her nerve and raised her voice, "Show yourself, you bloody bastard. I know that's you Riddle. You will pay for killing all of them!"
The voice that answered sounded different then how she remembered Tom's voice; "Of course I'll show myself..."
The figure stepped forward, but it was not Tom Riddle. It was a woman with a long deep red dress with gold trim. Her vibrant red hair fell down past her shoulders in tight ringlets. The woman glared at Ginny with cold brown eyes before sneering darkly. Ginny stood in horror at her face. "You're right, Ginny, I did kill them. I killed all of them. Or rather, you did."
"You're lying!" Ginny reached for her wand and pulled it up.
"I'm lying? Why would I lie to myself? If you want the proof, look at your `wand'."
Ginny blinked down at her wand, hand trembling. In her hand, where her wand should have been, was a 6-inch knife, the serrated edge dripping with blood and flesh torn from the bodies at her feet. She shook violently, shock spreading through her veins. The woman across from her just laughed in a cold high mocking tone.
"You killed them all...and you enjoyed it."
"NOOO!" Ginny Weasley sat up in bed, screaming. She looked frantically around before realizing that what had just transpired was only a dream. A dream similar to the same dream she had since her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Only this time the dream was different. This time she was the villain. She starred shakily at her lightly freckled, but clean hands. They had been so bloody...
"Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley came bustling into Ginny's room, a tired yet worried expression on her face, "Ginny, dear, are you alright? I heard you cry out"
Ginny blinked blankly at her mother and opened her mouth to say `I'm fine, mum' but all that came out was a choked sob. When had she started crying?
"Oh my dear..." Mrs. Weasley sighed, sitting on the edge of Ginny's bed, scooping the crying girl into her arms. "There, there sweetness...it was only a dream. Just a bad dream that's all. Today when we go to Diagon Alley to get supplies we'll go by Dr. Scharff's and you can talk some."
"I don't want to talk to her mum...I..." Ginny wanted to say that she wasn't crazy, that she didn't need a psychologist's help. But a little voice in the back of her head taunted her, if you aren't crazy, then what do you call your dreams?
Mrs. Weasley rocked her daughter in her arms a bit and kissed the top of her head, "Now, Ginny, I know you don't like having to go to the doctor, but she does help you. This is the first dream that you've had since you started talking to her."
Ginny simply nodded, though in her head she was thinking she hadn't had a horridly bad dream like this since Voldemort had finally been destroyed in the previous year, but she just let the fact slide for now.
"Now, it's not too early, how about you go ahead and get cleaned up and dressed, and when you come downstairs I'll make you some strawberry flatcakes? How does that sound."
Ginny again nodded mutely and pasted on a brave smile for her mom, if anything than to just get the woman out of her room. Ginny wanted to be alone, but in a family like the Weasley's that was next to impossible. After Mrs. Weasley left, Ginny pulled herself from bed and over to her dresser to look into the mirror in on the wall. She sighed and rubbed her face, trying to think of a way to erase the circles under her eyes before hastily pulling clean robes from the closet and heading to the bathroom. She turned on the water and stripped down before stepping under the steaming spray.
They had started again. The nightmares that had plagued her since she was a child. Dreams of snakes, death, destruction, and Tom. She thought that after Voldemort was defeated she would be free of them. For a while she was. For three blessed months her dreams had been peaceful...well relatively peaceful. They were disturbing, but after the war what wasn't disturbing anymore? But two months ago they started back up. Oh it was innocent enough at first. When they began again, she was simply back in the chamber with Tom and Harry, but as time went on they got progressively darker. Ginny didn't dare tell anyone, but her parents did find out. and when they did they sought psychiatric help. "We just want what's best for you, Ginny," they had said, "Because of what happened in '92 you might be deeply affected by the war. A doctor will only help you."
"Heh," Ginny said bitterly out loud as she rinsed shampoo from her hair, "What does some dumb doctor know about my mind." She debated for the 3rd time this week drowning herself in the water that pooled a few inches deep in the bathtub, but, also for the 3rd time that week decided drowning was a cowards way out. And if Ginny Weasley was anything it was not a coward.
If you aren't a coward, said the cruel voice in the back of her head, then why are you afraid of a dead-man?
"Shut up." She said sternly back to the voice, "What do you know anyway."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Good morning, Ginny; how are you?" Dr. Scharff smiled warmly across the desk from Ginny.
"I'm fine." Ginny said shortly. She wasn't happy about being in the bright and chipper Diagon Alley office. The whole perky attitude of the room and the woman across from her was enough to make a teletubby puke. "I just had another bad dream this morning and mum over-reacted."
"Another bad dream?" Scharff tilted her head to the side and tapped her pen against a notepad, "The same dream that you've been having."
"In essence." Ginny mumbled. It was embarrassing and stupid, having to tell her dreams to this lady who probably never faced any thing darker than lawn gnomes.
"Ginny...if you don't talk to me then I can't help you. I want to help you, really I do." Scharff looked thoughtful. "Normally in this case I would have you write down your dreams and feelings in a dream diar-"
"NO! No diaries!" Ginny found herself saying before she stopped to think how ridiculous she sounded.
"Alright, no diaries." Scharff looked thoughtfully across at Ginny a moment before getting any ideas, "How about this...Instead of you writing things in a diary....why don't you write a story."
Ginny blinked, "A what?"
"A story. I'll provide the paper and such, and once a month you send it to me from school. It can be like...the novelized version of your dreams. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like it would be one seriously messed up book." Ginny stated flatly. Even through it wasn't a joke, Scharff laughed.
"Messed up or no, perhaps getting these ideas out of your head will help you adjust. Think of it as a pensive, only instead of some large, bothersome, hard to make magical bowl, you have a nice compact bound writing journal."
Ginny thought about this and it seemed to make sense in her head. Plus, she remembered when she was younger Bill had a book buy a muggle author that he said was very scary. Perhaps she could make some money if it wasn't that bad a story. Muggle publishers will accept almost any dumb manuscript if they think they can make some money. "Alright then."
"Terrific! Now let me see what you can use to write in...." Scharff dug around in her bookshelf a bit before pulling out a black leather bound journal. Ginny felt her insides freeze up some. It looks like...like...
"Here you go," Scharff said setting the journal in front of Ginny. "Its charmed so what you write in here shows up in this identical journal in my office." She held up the identical journal. "So whatever you write in there I see over here. Now don't worry, I bought these both at a respectable store here in Diagon Alley, both are blank as the day they were made."
Ginny timidly picked up her book and looked at it, thumbing through the pages. It looked so much like Riddle's diary, but important details (Such as Riddle's name, the publishing company and such) were not there. Plus, Ginny thought, it would be absurd to think this was really Riddle's diary, Harry destroyed both it and Tom 5 years ago...
...Didn't he?
Of course he did.
"Now, I wish you luck at school Ginny. If you ever feel you need someone to talk to, just owl me." Dr. Scharff smiled warmly.
Ginny smiled weakly (and fake-ly) back, "I will, Dr. Thank you."
"No, Thank you Ginny. Now you have a nice day."
"Alright, I will..." Ginny stood and headed for the door.
"Oh, and Ginny?"
Ginny stopped to glance back at Dr. Scharff, "Yes, Dr.?"
"I'm looking forward to reading your story."
Rating: R for disturbing imagery, violence, language and other things that I might not have particularly planned or cannot tell you for foreshadowing reasons
Archives: Naturally! Just tell me where you're putting me.
Notes/Disclaimers: The only things that I of Harry Potter are some Ron plushies, a Hedwig pillow, all 4 books, the two "school books", a poster, a calendar, some gloves, a Quidditch shirt, some metal tins, and a dozen or so magazine clippings. Also, this story will most likely be dark, scary, and disturbing. If it isn't then I haven't done my job as a horror writer. I've gone through and made this slightly more readable. Damned Imac didn't want to cooperate with me yesterday.
Synopsis: A mentally disturbed 16-year-old Ginny Weasley begins a new therapy program at the suggestion of her therapist. The therapy, write a story to exorcise her demons. However, what if in the process of moving her bad dreams from her head into a novel form, she resurrects a demon long thought dead?
Pairing: Ginny/??? Mentioned Ginny/Harry mentioned Ron/Hermione
Spoilers: Chamber of Secrets, Goblet of Fire
Dedication: To Lee, who is the real Ginny Weasley, to Steph for all the psycho plot bunnies, and to the Stephen F Austin State University School of Honors Computer Lab, where this plot was "born"
Feedback: Hell'zyeah!
Dangerous Game
Chapter 1: Dreams.
Blood. There was blood everywhere. On her hands, on her clothes, in her hair...she felt suddenly sick. Where had all the blood come from? She looked desperately around for something, anything, to wash away the blood. Then she saw them. The bodies. Ron, Hermione, Mum, Dad, George, Fred, Percy. Harry. All of them. They were all dead. Brutally mangled shells of torn flesh and dripping cold blood that had once been vibrant, happy, living human beings. She felt as if she were going to be sick.
There was so much blood, all over her, all over them, they were all dead and she was the only one alive. Then she heard it, the cold high sinister laugh that had haunted her dreams since she was 11. She turned to face the laughter, only to see a shadow in its place. She steeled her nerve and raised her voice, "Show yourself, you bloody bastard. I know that's you Riddle. You will pay for killing all of them!"
The voice that answered sounded different then how she remembered Tom's voice; "Of course I'll show myself..."
The figure stepped forward, but it was not Tom Riddle. It was a woman with a long deep red dress with gold trim. Her vibrant red hair fell down past her shoulders in tight ringlets. The woman glared at Ginny with cold brown eyes before sneering darkly. Ginny stood in horror at her face. "You're right, Ginny, I did kill them. I killed all of them. Or rather, you did."
"You're lying!" Ginny reached for her wand and pulled it up.
"I'm lying? Why would I lie to myself? If you want the proof, look at your `wand'."
Ginny blinked down at her wand, hand trembling. In her hand, where her wand should have been, was a 6-inch knife, the serrated edge dripping with blood and flesh torn from the bodies at her feet. She shook violently, shock spreading through her veins. The woman across from her just laughed in a cold high mocking tone.
"You killed them all...and you enjoyed it."
"NOOO!" Ginny Weasley sat up in bed, screaming. She looked frantically around before realizing that what had just transpired was only a dream. A dream similar to the same dream she had since her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Only this time the dream was different. This time she was the villain. She starred shakily at her lightly freckled, but clean hands. They had been so bloody...
"Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley came bustling into Ginny's room, a tired yet worried expression on her face, "Ginny, dear, are you alright? I heard you cry out"
Ginny blinked blankly at her mother and opened her mouth to say `I'm fine, mum' but all that came out was a choked sob. When had she started crying?
"Oh my dear..." Mrs. Weasley sighed, sitting on the edge of Ginny's bed, scooping the crying girl into her arms. "There, there sweetness...it was only a dream. Just a bad dream that's all. Today when we go to Diagon Alley to get supplies we'll go by Dr. Scharff's and you can talk some."
"I don't want to talk to her mum...I..." Ginny wanted to say that she wasn't crazy, that she didn't need a psychologist's help. But a little voice in the back of her head taunted her, if you aren't crazy, then what do you call your dreams?
Mrs. Weasley rocked her daughter in her arms a bit and kissed the top of her head, "Now, Ginny, I know you don't like having to go to the doctor, but she does help you. This is the first dream that you've had since you started talking to her."
Ginny simply nodded, though in her head she was thinking she hadn't had a horridly bad dream like this since Voldemort had finally been destroyed in the previous year, but she just let the fact slide for now.
"Now, it's not too early, how about you go ahead and get cleaned up and dressed, and when you come downstairs I'll make you some strawberry flatcakes? How does that sound."
Ginny again nodded mutely and pasted on a brave smile for her mom, if anything than to just get the woman out of her room. Ginny wanted to be alone, but in a family like the Weasley's that was next to impossible. After Mrs. Weasley left, Ginny pulled herself from bed and over to her dresser to look into the mirror in on the wall. She sighed and rubbed her face, trying to think of a way to erase the circles under her eyes before hastily pulling clean robes from the closet and heading to the bathroom. She turned on the water and stripped down before stepping under the steaming spray.
They had started again. The nightmares that had plagued her since she was a child. Dreams of snakes, death, destruction, and Tom. She thought that after Voldemort was defeated she would be free of them. For a while she was. For three blessed months her dreams had been peaceful...well relatively peaceful. They were disturbing, but after the war what wasn't disturbing anymore? But two months ago they started back up. Oh it was innocent enough at first. When they began again, she was simply back in the chamber with Tom and Harry, but as time went on they got progressively darker. Ginny didn't dare tell anyone, but her parents did find out. and when they did they sought psychiatric help. "We just want what's best for you, Ginny," they had said, "Because of what happened in '92 you might be deeply affected by the war. A doctor will only help you."
"Heh," Ginny said bitterly out loud as she rinsed shampoo from her hair, "What does some dumb doctor know about my mind." She debated for the 3rd time this week drowning herself in the water that pooled a few inches deep in the bathtub, but, also for the 3rd time that week decided drowning was a cowards way out. And if Ginny Weasley was anything it was not a coward.
If you aren't a coward, said the cruel voice in the back of her head, then why are you afraid of a dead-man?
"Shut up." She said sternly back to the voice, "What do you know anyway."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Good morning, Ginny; how are you?" Dr. Scharff smiled warmly across the desk from Ginny.
"I'm fine." Ginny said shortly. She wasn't happy about being in the bright and chipper Diagon Alley office. The whole perky attitude of the room and the woman across from her was enough to make a teletubby puke. "I just had another bad dream this morning and mum over-reacted."
"Another bad dream?" Scharff tilted her head to the side and tapped her pen against a notepad, "The same dream that you've been having."
"In essence." Ginny mumbled. It was embarrassing and stupid, having to tell her dreams to this lady who probably never faced any thing darker than lawn gnomes.
"Ginny...if you don't talk to me then I can't help you. I want to help you, really I do." Scharff looked thoughtful. "Normally in this case I would have you write down your dreams and feelings in a dream diar-"
"NO! No diaries!" Ginny found herself saying before she stopped to think how ridiculous she sounded.
"Alright, no diaries." Scharff looked thoughtfully across at Ginny a moment before getting any ideas, "How about this...Instead of you writing things in a diary....why don't you write a story."
Ginny blinked, "A what?"
"A story. I'll provide the paper and such, and once a month you send it to me from school. It can be like...the novelized version of your dreams. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like it would be one seriously messed up book." Ginny stated flatly. Even through it wasn't a joke, Scharff laughed.
"Messed up or no, perhaps getting these ideas out of your head will help you adjust. Think of it as a pensive, only instead of some large, bothersome, hard to make magical bowl, you have a nice compact bound writing journal."
Ginny thought about this and it seemed to make sense in her head. Plus, she remembered when she was younger Bill had a book buy a muggle author that he said was very scary. Perhaps she could make some money if it wasn't that bad a story. Muggle publishers will accept almost any dumb manuscript if they think they can make some money. "Alright then."
"Terrific! Now let me see what you can use to write in...." Scharff dug around in her bookshelf a bit before pulling out a black leather bound journal. Ginny felt her insides freeze up some. It looks like...like...
"Here you go," Scharff said setting the journal in front of Ginny. "Its charmed so what you write in here shows up in this identical journal in my office." She held up the identical journal. "So whatever you write in there I see over here. Now don't worry, I bought these both at a respectable store here in Diagon Alley, both are blank as the day they were made."
Ginny timidly picked up her book and looked at it, thumbing through the pages. It looked so much like Riddle's diary, but important details (Such as Riddle's name, the publishing company and such) were not there. Plus, Ginny thought, it would be absurd to think this was really Riddle's diary, Harry destroyed both it and Tom 5 years ago...
...Didn't he?
Of course he did.
"Now, I wish you luck at school Ginny. If you ever feel you need someone to talk to, just owl me." Dr. Scharff smiled warmly.
Ginny smiled weakly (and fake-ly) back, "I will, Dr. Thank you."
"No, Thank you Ginny. Now you have a nice day."
"Alright, I will..." Ginny stood and headed for the door.
"Oh, and Ginny?"
Ginny stopped to glance back at Dr. Scharff, "Yes, Dr.?"
"I'm looking forward to reading your story."