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The Prophecy of the Trio by GinnyFan1
Chapter 4 : Chapter 3: The Diary
 
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Chapter 3: The Diary



 



I don’t know whether I should’ve listened to Charlie or stayed; now, looking back, these Erasers were well-trained and probably would’ve killed Charlie, so I know now that I made the right choice.



                I ran towards the head Eraser, planting a roundhouse kick in his ribs. He howled in pain, snapping his foaming jaws at me. I punched him in the mouth and knocked his feet out from under him. He struggled as he tried to rise again.



                Behind me, an Eraser sank his teeth into my shoulder, making me cry out. His jaws were ripped from my shoulder (and you just try and tell me that that doesn’t hurt) as Charlie stunned him. Claws raked down my arms, torso, and legs, blows were exchanged, and snarling sounded through the night as our brawl continued.



                Finally, Charlie stunned the last Eraser, leaving us out of breath and injured. After several minutes, Charlie said, “C’mon, we have to meet Bill.”



                He offered to carry me, but I shook my head; he was just as injured as I was. Our feet dragged as we walked, and I felt dizzy from the large cut and blow to the head the last Eraser had given me.



                “We’re here,” Charlie panted after twenty minutes. A tall figure, a little taller than Charlie, stood by the road, an arm raised and pointed at us, a long object at the end. A wand?



                Charlie raised his wand as well, shouting, “What was the last thing our father, Arthur Weasley, said to both of us?”



                The figure shouted back in a humorous, booming voice, “’You just wait till you fall in love, boys. Everything changes.’”



                Charlie lowered his wand, limping towards our brother quickly as I followed. He clapped Bill on the shoulder and illuminated his wand, shining light on Bill’s face.



                “Better, now that I don’t have to wait for you anymore!” Bill laughed, smiling.



                “We were attacked.”



                Charlie waved his wand, causing the light to expand above our heads, shining down on all three of us. Bill sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes raked over my blood-and-mud-soaked clothes and my numerous injuries.



                “We need to get her to Mum. Now,” Bill told Charlie. Charlie nodded in agreement.



                “I need to go check in at work. I’ll stop by later to check in,” Charlie sighed. He leaned down and hugged me, telling me to take care. I nodded into his chest.



                I’d never had a sibling, let alone a big brother, so I was surprised by the rush of security that washed over me the minute Charlie wound his arms around me. It was nice.



                “Bye, Charlie,” I told him, and he shushed me, ruffling my hair lightly.



                “No, not ‘bye’, Ginevra, ‘later. This isn’t a goodbye, just a ‘see you later’, okay?” he chuckled.



                “See you later, Charlie,” I laughed, grinning. His eyes were oddly unreadable as he smiled.



                “See you later.”



                He turned on the spot and vanished with a small pop!



                Bill suddenly scooped me up, saying, “Hold on, Princess,” not giving me a chance to protest to the action nor the name. He did the same as Charlie had, leaving the road with me in his arms.



                It felt as though as was being squeezed through a small tube, being twisted in various directions; I could hardly breathe from the increasing pressure, making me feel as though I would burst any second. Just when I thought I would, I felt a jolt as Bill’s feet hit firm ground and the pressure released.



                It was morning, the sun spilling its light over the field we stood in. I looked ahead to the back porch that had to be that of the Burrow.



                Bill and I walked towards the porch, going over the same topics Charlie and I had. As we wrapped up the topic of Quidditch, Bill told me, “You know, you don’t look like a Ginevra. Far too fancy.”



                “Is that so?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.



                “You seem more like a…Ginny.”



                “Really? And how did you come to that conclusion?”



                “Just your personality,” he laughed. “It’s a good nickname. It’s hardly used anymore.”



                “Seems perfect. Ginny it is.”



                Bill beamed in triumph as he carried me up the steps of the porch. We heard shouts coming from the kitchen:



                “Beds empty, no note, car gone! You could’ve died, you could’ve been SEEN!”*



                My wrist grew warm like it had before, and I was filled with sudden knowledge, as if I’d known all along. I knew who was involved, and what this was about.



                My mother, Molly Weasley, was shouting at my three youngest brothers: Fred, George, and Ron. Apparently, the three boys had taken my father Arthur Weasley’s enchanted car to go pick up their friend, who was trapped at his aunt and uncle’s house. However, they didn’t inform Mum about their rescue plan. The shouting match continued until Mum assured their friend that he wasn’t at fault, and that he was more than welcome.



                Bill came into full view as he stepped further into the room, clearing his throat. Unfortunately, fatigue had finally stolen my voice, leaving the room in stony silence.



                Mum stared at Bill and I in shock, and the boys were just as petrified. Finally, Mum found her voice, “Bill, I- who, wh-who is that? Is that blood?”



                “Mum, this is our sister and your daughter, Ginevra. Actually, uh, we decided to call her Ginny. It fits better…” Bill explained, trailing off.



                “Bill…” I managed.



                “What is it, Gin?” he murmured.



                “Let me down.”



                “You’re pretty banged up; I don’t think-“



                “Bill.



                Bill sighed and let me down reluctantly and I steadied myself, brushing some stray strands of my still-brown hair out of my face. The potion hadn’t worn off.



                “I don’t naturally look like this; the potion that made me look like my fosters hasn’t worn off yet. The only thing that’s natural is my eyes, Jeb couldn’t bear to change them,” I explained quickly. Mum, Ron, Fred and George, and the boy analyzed me. Percy came down to see what was going on, freezing when he saw me. Dad did the same. Bill explained everything, including the attack.



                Finally, Mum came forward and asked, “Is it really you?”




                I nodded. A watery smile came across her face. In that moment, everything seemed perfect.



 



                Mum had used magical remedies to heal my wounds and I had just gotten out of the shower. The whole family was downstairs eating breakfast. I changed into a clean white shirt (Jeb had dropped off all my stuff), jeans, and black and white trainers. I combed out my hair and jumped at my reflection when I looked up.



                My hair was a deep red, and my skin was lighter than it had been. My features had changed, and I’d grown a little, but I was still in fantastic shape (damn Jeb for all that training) and had my same chocolate eyes. I took a deep breath and glanced down at the scar on my wrist, frowning.



                I went to one of the drawers in my room (Mum had always had that room for when I came back) and dug through it, finding an old Muse: The Resistance wristband. They were my favorite band. I’d gotten it from a concert I went to with a friend. I slipped the wristband on, making it cover my scar. I smiled in satisfaction.



                I jogged downstairs, finding that Mum had already loaded a plate for me. I smiled and sat down, beginning to eat, hesitating when I felt all eyes on me.



                “Great, we have a princess here now,” snorted Fred (I knew he had a dimple beneath his left eye, while George didn’t), giving me a wicked grin.



                “And you’re my jester,” I countered. Fred and George laughed, appearing impressed. The boy laughed a little, his eyes meeting mine for a moment. I was frozen in place.



                His eyes were gorgeous, mesmerizing. There was something that attracted me to them, and I couldn’t break his gaze.



                Harry James Potter. The name floated through my mind effortlessly. It was Harry Potter.



                Somehow, that fact seemed unimportant to me.



                After blinking a few times, I was able to break away. I had easy conversation with the family, seeming to fit in naturally.



                Of course you do, you’re family.



                I jumped. What was that? It wasn’t my own thought.



                I’ve always been with you, Ginevra, since your beginning.



                The voice…it was impossible to tell whether it was computer or human, male or female, young or old. But, the way it spoke was familiar…



                My wrist heated up.



                I thought back easily, Hello, Jeb.



                Hello, Ginny. Intuition give me away?



                Always.



                I’ll always be here if you need me. Just send a thought, I’ll be here.



                Creepy, but comforting. Thanks, Jeb.



                It was nice to know I had someone to count on, always with me. But, you have to admit, it was pretty creepy to have someone else in your head all the time, like in The Host by Stephenie Meyer.



                ---



                The next day, we all went to get our supplies from Diagon Alley. Harry got lost in Knockturn Alley, then met us with Hermione at Flourish & Blotts. Gilderoy Lockhart, the great fraud of a wizard, pulled Harry into pictures for the Daily Prophet with him. I laughed quietly to myself at Harry’s expression.



                “Bet you loved that, eh, Potter?” a sneering voice said as Harry approached Ron and I, who’d knocked over a stack of books and I was helping put them back up, laughing at the look on his face while he teasingly shoved me.



                “Not as much as you did,” I snapped. Draco Malfoy wheeled around.



                “Another one? Not enough Weasleys in the world yet, huh? Or are you just Potter’s new girlfriend?”



                “Obviously not enough of them to shut an idiot like you up, and don’t act like you have even a remote idea of the concept of a girlfriend, Malfoy,” I retorted. Ron, Hermione, and even Harry burst into laughter. Malfoy glared at me.



                “You-“



                “Now, now, Draco,” said a cold voice with the smoothness of a serpent, “you needn’t worry about her. You know what they say about women who don’t know their place.”



                “Still living in the 1800’s, are we?” I said coolly, not caring I was provoking a Death Eater, let alone adult. “I bet your wife lives a pleasant life.”



                Lucius Malfoy gave me a glare cold enough to chill Satan, but I stood my ground.



                Good, keep calm. You need these skills for later on. Why do you think I did so many mood and socializing exercises?



                Deep breaths, clear mind. I remember.



                “Then again, Weasleys tend to be very uncivilized,” he sneered. “I guess it comes with poverty.”



                “And riches comes with snobbery? I’ll stick with what I have.” Dad, Mum, Fred, George, and Percy had joined us.



                Lucius leaned down slightly to see eye-to-eye with me. He snarled, “I’ll have you know that, should you keep up with your harsh tongue, I’ll show you that my expertise is in pain.”



                “Pain fades, like most things; however, being a cowardly psychopath seems to stick around. I guess it’s easy to see who gets the better deal here,” I snapped. I heard the others suppress laughter. Lucius was furious that he was losing a verbal match with a near-thirteen year-old. His hand went towards his wand, but he stopped.



                His hand slid over my books, as if examining them. When he removed his hand, another book had joined them. “It’s no use having these. You cannot teach something that can’t even be tamed.”



                “I’m sorry for your son, then.”



                Draco lunged for me and I stepped swiftly to the side, leaving him to crash into the floor.



                “Quite a champ you have,” I ‘congratulated’ Lucius. “However, he’ll be fine, if he does the exact opposite as his father.”



                Lucius caught the deeper meaning of my words, and his eyes flashed. He heaved his son up and practically shoved him out the door, furious. I felt exhilarated and satisfied.




                “Bloody brute,” Fred muttered, grinning.



 



                Hermione and I both loaded our things onto the train. Ron was already inside. Hermione and I had quickly become as good of friends as she, Ron, and Harry were. Same went for Harry, as we’d spent the remainder of our summer all together.



                And in case you’re wondering, yes, they knew my secret.



                We found an empty compartment and sat down, waiting for the boys.



                “Where are they?” she sighed impatiently.



                “I didn’t see them come onto the platform,” I admitted slowly, raising my eyes from the book I was reading.



                “Where are they?” she repeated. She was asking if I could tell her.



                Can I?



                Yes, seeing as they’ve already taken the car.



                I sighed and said, “They got blocked out of the barrier, they were late. They’re taking the car.”



                “What?!” she exclaimed.



                “I said-”



                She rolled her eyes at me.



                “We have to stop them.”



                “We’re moving already.”



                She continued ranting about how irresponsible they were the whole way there. I nodded, throwing in a couple uh-huh’s every few seconds. She didn’t seem to notice that I wasn’t paying attention.



                We reached Hogwarts and I was called to Dumbledore’s office early to be sorted. The Sorting hat grumbled about how fair I was and how intelligent and cunning and brave…saying any house would be honored to have me (making me blush a little). Finally, he admitted that this trait stood out the most in me, and it was my destiny to be in the house of Gryffindor.



                I watched the Sorting and joined in the feast, blocking out the gossip about the return of the lost Weasley daughter. Hermione comforted me, and Fred and George teased me like hell.



                Soon, Percy led us up to our dorms, where we were joined by Ron and Harry, coming back from the headmaster’s office with detention, telling us they’d eaten in the office. We soon departed after Hermione scolded them for a good ten minutes. Harry looked embarrassed, but I winked at him and gave him a thumbs up (while Hermione had turned to Ron of course; she’d have scolded me if she’d seen me) and he beamed.



                I went up to the girls’ dorm with Hermione, changing into pajamas and digging out the small black journal Lucius had put in my cauldron. I knew what it was, but I had to trust it and risk my life to make everything happen as it was supposed to.



                I took a deep breath, ignoring the name ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’ written in gold on the corner of the cover, and took out a quill.



                I wrote, “Hello, my name is Ginevra Molly Weasley.”



                The ink disappeared, forming new words in neat writing.



                “Hello, Ginevra. My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tell me, how did you come by my diary?”



 



A/N:  *- Quote from “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets” movie version.



 


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