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Aimlessly, Ginny wandered the Hogwarts Express. She hadn't really expected Ron, Harry and Hermione to welcome her into their little group, but a foolish part of her had hoped they might, and she hadn't given much thought to where she would go when they inevitably sent her away.
Which, of course, Ron had, as soon as Harry had whispered something mysterious and, quite obviously private in his ear.
Ginny couldn't even find it within her to be angry, not really. How could she expect anyone to trust her after the mess she'd made last year? Least of all Harry, who had been forced to risk his own life saving her.
The very thought made her feel sick, and, as she'd resolved to do all summer, she decided not to dwell on it. She had bigger problems to deal with now anyway, namely finding somewhere to sit. It wasn't the easiest of challenges, considering she'd spent the majority of last year withdrawn, held tight in the clutches of Tom Riddle's control, and now she had no friends to speak of.
It was stupid, she knew, to miss the diary. Not just stupid; pathetic and childish too, but, for a while, Riddle had been her only friend and now Ginny didn't even have him, leaving her lonelier than ever as she peered into the different compartments of the Hogwarts Express, searching desperately for a place she might fit.
She paused outside the compartment housing Fred and George; they were with Lee Jordan, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson. The little gathering was so deep in conversation they didn't even notice Ginny peering in at them.
She hesitated, her hand clasped around the door handle. Probably, they'd let her sit with them; Lee had always been nice enough to her, and Angelina and Alicia seemed perfectly pleasant, but none of them would be happy to have her there.
She would be an imposition. The Weasleys’ little sister, humoured as a novelty and absolutely nothing more.
Shaking her head, Ginny took a step away from the door to the compartment, careful to brace herself against the steady rocking of the train.
Steadfastly, she turned away, determined to find somewhere she would be more than an imposition.
The sky grew darker outside the window as Ginny continued her search. It was slow progress, hampered by groups of students who, apparently, had an overabundance of friends, meaning their groups spilled out onto the corridor, blocking her path.
There was also the trolley witch to contend with, who, upon seeing Ginny, leaning against the wall at the end of one of the carriages, contemplating her next move, had given her the kind of sympathetic look that Ginny hated to be on the receiving end of.
“Anything from the trolley, dear?” The witch offered gently, giving Ginny a kind smile.
She shook her head resolutely, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the now-squashed sandwiches Mum had given her on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. “I'm fine.”
The trolley witch's head tilted sympathetically. “No charge?” She offered. “You look like you could use a pick me up.”
There had not been many previous occasions upon which Ginny had been offered free sweets, but she was sure that up until this moment she would've thought anyone who turned down such an opportunity was quite mad. Still, she shook her head resolutely in refusal of the offer, unable to stand the suggestion that she was too weak to endure a train ride alone without pity.
The trolley witch only shrugged before continuing onwards, pushing her cart of sweets up the train.
Ginny waited for her to leave, disappearing out of sight through the door that led to the next train car. Alone once more, she slid down the wall, making herself comfortable on the carpeted floor, and unwrapping the ham and cheese sandwich from her mother.
The rain started when Ginny was halfway through her solitary lunch. The clouds outside the window had turned a steel grey so dark it was almost black, and icy sheets of water rattled against the windows.
Swallowing down the final mouthful of her sandwich, Ginny rose to her feet once more. She had taken only a few steps when the lanterns lining the corridor sprung to life, casting a flickering light over her surroundings.
She paused in the next carriage over, watching as Draco Malfoy's pale head emerged from one of the compartments ahead, closely followed by the oaf-ish figures of Crabbe and Goyle. Ginny shrunk against the wall, determined not to be seen; fortunately, she appeared to be just as invisible to them as she was to everyone else; Malfoy and his cronies didn't spare her a glance as they stalked past looking extremely displeased about something.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Ginny continued in the opposite direction to the one Malfoy had just gone, not wanting to test her luck.
She peered into the compartment they had just exited, eyes falling first on Ron's familiar face. He was scowling, apparently unhappy with whatever interaction had just passed. He performed a violent gesture; Hermione gave him her customary look of admonishment and Harry sat across from them, watching with vague amusement.
Ginny wavered only long enough to take in the scene before turning decidedly away. She'd already been dismissed by them once, she didn't particularly fancy the indignity of repeating the experience.
The rain continued to swell as she moved further up the corridor, battering the walls and the steel roof. A powerful gust of wind made the whole train sway violently; Ginny braced against the wall to keep herself upright.
A loud shriek of laughter from the compartment beside her compelled her to peer through the window in the door. Her heart sank as she took in the scene; the rest of the Gryffindor second year girls, the ones Ginny shared a dorm with, were huddled inside. A small mountain of sweets had been piled on one of the empty seats and a raucous game of exploding snap was unfolding between them.
Unbidden, Ginny's hand curled around the door handle. She had never wanted anything more than to enter the compartment, to be greeted warmly and invited to play.
Her mind was almost made up; doubt seized her before she could push the door open.
She had isolated herself from her peers last year. Would it be strange for her to intrude now? Would they welcome her as the fifth member of their dorm? Or share a secret look that conveyed Ginny had no place among them?
Did she even deserve a place among them?
Before Ginny could decide upon an answer, the rattle of the train clattering across the tracks fell away, the loud squeak of the breaks sounded and the train began to slow.
Ginny released the door handle, frowning as she looked around. They couldn't have reached Hogwarts yet, despite the darkness gathering outside the window, it was still much too early.
Along the corridor, doors began to pop open, a dozen curious heads hanging out, evidently looking for the source of the delay.
The train stopped abruptly; the resulting, unexpected, jolt knocked Ginny off her feet. She landed with a thud on the carpet, her head swivelling to look for any indication of what was happening. She had no opportunity to find out before, suddenly, the corridor was engulfed in pitch black darkness.
There was another shriek from the compartment that contained her dormmates, but this one was filled with fear rather than amusement.
Ginny scrambled to her feet, fighting hard to keep her breathing even as panic threated to overwhelm her. With enormous force of will, she placed her hand on the wood paneled wall, forcing herself to focus on the warm smoothness of the surface, so unlike the rough, damp stone walls of the chamber.
She was on the Hogwarts Express. The Diary – and Riddle – had been destroyed. Nothing was going to harm her.
Still, her feet carried her hurriedly back down the corridor. One hand remained on the wall, guiding her straight. She counted the doors she passed until she was sure she was at the right one. It was already open; Ginny collided hard with someone standing in the doorway.
“Who's that?” She asked, at the same time as the person blocking the door.
“Ginny?”
“Hermione?”
“What are you doing?” Hermione demanded.
Ginny's explanation escaped her before she could think of a slightly less pathetic excuse for careening into their compartment. “I was looking for Ron.”
Hermione's hand pulled gently at Ginny's arm, leading her into the compartment. “Come in and sit down –”
“Not here! I'm here!” Harry squeaked as Ginny leapt up from the seat she'd attempted to sit in; the one that was already occupied by him. She was sure her brightly burning cheeks must be visible even in the dark gloom that surrounded them.
“Ouch!” Said another, less familiar, voice as Ginny's foot landed on someone's shoe.
“Quiet!” A hoarse voice hissed, this one evidently belonging to an adult.
Ginny fell silently into the empty seat beside Ron, aided to her destination by the flickering light that had suddenly filled the compartment, illuminating the worried faces of Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville.
The light's caster was a weary-looking man who Ginny had never seen before. “Stay where you are,” he commanded, getting to his feet with his brightly shining fire held out before him.
The door, however, slid open before he could reach it. The creature that faced him was one Ginny had only heard about in hushed whispers. Still, the cloaked figure looming in the doorway was instantly recognisable; Ginny's mouth fell open in horror.
Her heart was hammering in her throat, suppressing the scream that threatened to escape her as the Dementor inhaled one slow, rattling breath.
A frigid chill overtook her, creeping through her veins like ice water, frosting over her bones and stealing the breath from her frozen lungs.
Her vision blurred, the darkness surrounding Ginny absolute once more. She could feel nothing but the cold seeping into her soul, could hear nothing but the familiar drip of dank water on stone walls.
Then there was the voice; high and cold as it had been the last time she'd heard it, when she'd thought she'd hear nothing else ever again. ‘Come to me, Ginny.”
A small whimper ghosted on her lips, but it sounded a million miles away.
‘Come,’ Tom said again, a quiet command in his voice. ‘No one will miss you. It will be a relief for them to be rid of you, once they realise what you've done.’
Ginny's frozen heart shattered into a million pieces. Her head began to spin; the cold rose up, engulfing her, threatening to drag her back to him.
‘I'll make it quick,’ he murmured. ‘No need for you to suffer, even I'm not interested in you really. No one ever is, are they?’
No. Ginny tried to shake her head, tried to move her arms, to free herself from the grip Tom had seized her in, but she couldn't move.
‘Pitiful.’ He laughed, high and cruel.
Ginny tried not to hear it, refusing to be swept under his spell ever again.
Suddenly, a thick, white fog surrounded her. The cold swept out of Ginny's body, leaving only numbness in its wake.
There was a loud gasp from the other side of the compartment; the lanterns flickered to life, allowing her to see Neville gripping the arm of his seat tightly.
Still paralysed in her seat, unsure if she would ever be able to walk again, Ginny's eyes swept around the compartment, taking in the sight of Ron and Hermione looking bewildered at one another; the strange man withdrawing a large bar of chocolate from his case; and Harry on the floor beside his chair, looking pale and shaken.
Ginny's knees folded up to her chest; she hardly heard the conversation happening between the others. Their voices were distant, barely audible above the sound of Tom Riddle's voice still echoing in her ears.