This Cant Be Happening
Title: Blurred lines
Summary: Eleven-year-old Ginny Weasley is sorted into Slytherin. When the lines of good and bad are blurred to the point that Ginny is prepared to forget everything and run, does she go with her heart or with her head and can she see where the line is drawn through her affection to her forbidden friends and her loyalty to her family?
A/U: Starting in chamber of secrets making its way through Ginny’s years at Hogwarts from Ginny and Draco’s POV. Might go a bit after her last year who knows.
Rating: M For Violence, Grief and Sexually suggestive content
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Prologue: Blood traitors and mudbloods infest the corridors of Hogwarts. Draco had no feelings towards any of them but hate and displeasure. Of course however, everything is subject to change as is Draco’s heart. He would never have expected that one of the biggest Gryffindor families, and one of the biggest group of blood traitors in the wizarding world, would have their only daughter put in the house of Salazar Slytherin. Not through any fault of their own of course but something happened, whether her fault or not.
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Chapter 1: This cant be happening
August 29th
A dog-eared black leather book lay open on the desk in the corner of her bedroom. Ginny did everything she could think of to the book but alas nothing; the pages were empty no lines no ink only a name. “Tom Marvolo Riddle.” The name meant nothing to Ginny but she had found it in her cauldron after returning form Diagon Alley so she must have picked it up somewhere, she thought to herself. She was just preparing to write something down on the paper, quill mere inches away from from the blank yellowish parchment when someone downstairs called her name
“Ginny – Tea’s ready!”
It was her mother calling one floor below. Ginny would have answered if she wasn't wary of the dripping ink from her quill splotching on the diaries empty page. Except she needn’t have worried for moments after the balls of dripping ink hit the parchment they sunk into the pages and vanished. Looking bewilderedly at the book flipping through the pages once more expecting it to have sunk through to a later page she realised it had vanished completely as if it had not even been there.
“Ginny I wont tell you again!”
With one last glance at the diary, she set her quill down put a stopper on her ink bottle and headed downstairs for dinner.
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The staccato raindrops against the window simultaneously relaxed and slightly narked Ginny as she sat on her window seat back against a pillow she had taken from her bed; left temple resting on the cold glass as she stared into the orchard. The gnomes were encroaching the burrow like a special operations team trying to storm a building, but she knew all they were going to do is stand outside the house, trample flowers, scare the chickens and let out some choice swear words whenever someone went in or out of the house.
The sound of the rain was the only thing she could think of to distract her from the disaster that was dinner. She thought back to the occasion, dinner roll dropping out of her hand landing in her stew splashing it everywhere. Over her face, her clothes and over harry sitting opposite her on the cramped table. Yes it was her fault. Yes she was staring at him. But he stared back and smiled at her that sweet boyish innocent smile. As far as she was concerned it was as much his fault has her own. Ginny hated the weak feeling she got in her stomach and the sudden heat that always rose in her cheeks whenever Harry would smile at her, it felt like a constant mockery of herself. But that’s not what bothered her the most. As much as she vehemently refused to admit that she had a crush on harry and that she, on multiple occasions, told herself that it was just a childhood thing it still felt like a dagger had stuck straight through her heart when she heard him say that he didn’t think of here as any more then a friend… then a little sister.
“Harry mate you’ve got to talk to Ginny, the way she drops whatever she's holding whenever you smile at her is well annoying” Ron said casually to harry as they were still sat at the dinner table completely unaware as to the fact Ginny had her door open and was eavesdropping “I feel almost embarrassed for her.”
“Its because he likes her back.” replied Fred, or was it George? Harry had never been able to tell completely. “Don’t you harry, our little Ginny fawning over you, the boy who lived,” he paused with a mock love stuck sigh “how romantic.”
“I don’t have a crush on her Fred.” he said almost defensively but with a light-hearted air.
“Sure you don’t” countered the other twin “and I’m a flobber worm and Gred’s been harbouring illegal doxy’s in his pointy hat.”
“I’m serious George,” harry replied still defensive but dropping the light-heartedness. “I don’t think I could have a crush on Ginny she's just, I don’t know, like a little sister to me.”
A little sister, Ginny had heard enough at that point and closed her door as she assumed her current spot on the window seat therefore she didn’t hear anything else the people downstairs were saying, nor did she see Harry's face flush. As far as she was concerned he meant every word. The staccato raindrops thudding against the window her left temple was pressed against, staring toward the orchard.
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August 30th the next morning
Ginny awoke in a foul mood. She had a dream, more like a nightmare, where the events of last night played out as she was forced to watch from her seat. The boys acting as if she wasn't there like she thought they always seemed to.
“I could never love Ginny, she's like a little sister.” Repeated harry, but his words seemed to morph and congeal with Ron’s “I could never love Ginny she's like an annoying little sister.” They all laughed and didn’t see Ginny try to leave when she realised that she couldn’t move. She was forced to watch all of the people that she cared about, laugh at her.
“Annoying little sister.”
“Cant control herself around you harry, dead annoying really.”
“Annoying little sister.”
She had to do something about this, but she had no idea what. Her mum always told her to write down what she was feeling. It seemed rather childish but now wasn't the time to sit and do nothing she felt the walls closing in on her as she replayed the nightmare back in her head.
She reached her desk as she realised the black dog-eared diary was still there, open as she’d left it the night before. The palpable beckoning feeling emanating from the diary drew her in. She dropped her quill in her ink pot and wrote in her neatest handwriting exactly what she felt.
I can’t stand any of them, they act like I’m not even there and when they do realise I’m there all they think about is how I’m infatuated with harry potter and how I cant control myself around him.
She paused for a second to think of something and carried on writing
and what hurts even more is that they’re right, I cant control myself around him, I don’t know what to do.
As before the words sunk into the page leaving the book entirely. This time however, rising from the page the perfect reciprocal of what she had seen, new words appeared.
I don’t think you’re weak, I just think they’re harsh on you because they’re jealous…
As quickly as she had read them the words had disappeared. Stunned by the sudden abnormal behaviour of this seemingly normal black leather diary she re-filled her quill and wrote more.
Hello? Can you hear me? My name is Ginny Weasley.
The words sunk into the book and almost immediately new words rose out of the yellow parchment pages, as if the person inside the book had been waiting all its life to finally talk to someone in its curvaceous pristine script:
Yes I can hear you, Ginny. My name Is Tom Riddle and this is my diary.
Ginny wrote and wrote to the diary, to Tom Riddle. For the best part of the day. Skipping breakfast and partaking in a small late lunch. She poured her heart and soul into the paper, detailing her childish crush for harry her feelings towards her brothers and the rest of her family. It felt like sweet cathartic release to be able to talk ill of her family to someone who couldn’t tell her she was being rude or over reacting. In fact the opposite happened, Tom seemed to encourage the discourse she felt and it made her feel good, feel understood. Feel wanted.
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Late the next day, august 31st
She knew exactly what she had to do, she had to get Ron, Fred and George all in one go… without, she thought, getting Harry into any trouble. Then again as she threw this thought around in her mind she realised; there was no way for Harry to get into trouble at The Burrow no matter what he did. But that didn’t matter at this moment in time all that mattered is that the rest of the plan went off without a hitch. And it did. She managed to get the ghoul in the attic to swear that it saw Fred and George walking out of Ron’s room. Ginny collect 4 rather sizeable spiders from the garden and gave them a cosy little nest. A cosy little nest right under Ron’s bed sheets. She was so sure in her master plan that she didn’t drop anything, over turn any bowls splash any hot liquids or put her hands in any food vessels despite Harry's smile and his brilliant green eyes greeting hers. Then, it was time.
Ron had gotten up, did his nightly routine in the bathroom and went up to bed… the next minute or so made her heart race. He must have been taking his time getting into bed probably praying at his Chudley Cannons shrine or having a laugh with harry on the floor. However, just as she thought the plan might not work, Ron let out an ear splitting screech as he bounded down the stairs white faced and gaunt with the look on his face like he’d seen some one being murdered in his room.
“M-M-M there's. There's.” he spluttered but the words just didn’t come out in a coherent sentence so he resulted to hand gestures and the words, “Bloody. Great. Spiders.”
At the horror-stricken look on Ron’s face and the words, or rather splutters that left his mouth, motherly instinct taking charge she bolted up the stairs all the way up 3 landings and into Ron’s room. And there they were, 4 medium sized garden spiders. Then the next stage of Ginny’s plan came to fruition the ghoul almost anticipating the ruckus it would cause peeped from through the ceiling hatch. “I saw the twins leaving that room not too long ago… right smug looks on their faces too…” and it retracted itself through the hatch and cackled to itself reassured of its mischief by the sound of Mrs. Weasley bellowing
“FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY YOU GET YOURSELVES UP THESE STAIRS RIGHT THIS INSTANT!” she was red in the face all the way up her ears with her eyebrows aligned with her hairline. “YOU’RE BOTH INCREDIBLY LUCKY THERE IS NO WAY FOR US TO PUNISH YOU BOTH BEFORE YOU SET OF TO HOGWARTS BUT JUST REST ASSURED THAT I AM DISGUSTED WITH YOUR BEHAVIOUR. YOU KNOW RON IS AFRAID OF SPIDERS!” and the quizzical and violently afraid looks on Fred and Georges face sealed the deal. She had done exactly what she had set out to do and she rushed to tell the diary… to tell her one true friend, Tom.
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September 1st Kings Cross Station.
Still afraid of their mother Fred and George went through the gate first at a faster speed then was necessary to get away from the cross witch and find a compartment with Lee Jordan as fast as was possible. Harry and Ron met Hermionie and they found their own compartment leaving Ginny saying goodbye to her mother for the first time with a kiss on the cheek and a rather tighter then usual hug, no doubt fuelled by her simmering anger at her Sons. Ginny left for the train.
As if there was a template for how first years acted; Ginny, like her classmates, all wandered down the long corridor looking for friendly faces. Ginny was fortunate enough to know an entire family of people in which she could sit in a compartment with, however she chose to sit with Luna Lovegood. A rather, strange girl the same age as Ginny whom she knew because she lived in Ottery St. Catch-pole like herself. Rather fortunately, she was sat on her own in the compartment reading contently from a magazine she held upside down in front of her face. As she went to slide open the compartment door, she was pushed rather savagely out of the way by a white haired softly pallid boy a year older. Draco Malfoy looked at Ginny as if she was a rather nasty stain on the upholstery of the train. “Watch where your going Weasley.”
She quickly retorted
“Maybe if you had your eyes open I wouldn’t need to, Malfoy.” The train quickly descended into amused ‘oooo’ sounds
“Or you could learn to know your place, blood traitor.” Malfoy spat back pushing his way towards the Slytherin carriage whilst the ‘oooo’ sounds turned into open laughter. She realised she was surrounded by Slytherins on all sides and quickly entered the compartment and slid closed the door pulling the blind down for good measure.
“That was a rather amusing comeback Ginny.” Luna said dreamily not taking her rather large eyes away from her magazine “In fact I think you won that argument.” Ginny would have been perplexed at Luna’s answer but this was Luna and she always had a rather odd take on things. She ploughed on through the silence “If all he could come up with was blood traitor then he was clearly beaten. He calls me a blood traitor too because of daddy’s magazines.” She raised the magazine slightly to bring attention to it, brought it back to her face again, and began to study it with her large eyes that didn’t seem to need to blink as much as other people. “Thank you Luna, but I don’t think the people outside, namely the Slytherins, would agree.” Ginny said solemnly “In fact I’d rather say I’m a bit of a laughing stock now.” Luna lowered her magazine, said “I don’t think your a laughing stock Ginny.” smiled and returned, yet again, to reading. No more was said and the compartment eased into a relaxed silence.
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The same couldn’t be said about the Slytherin carriages. A deflated Draco Malfoy slumped into his seat next to his two, rather dim-witted cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle and slightly more intelligent tall black slender friend Blaise Zabini. “I cannot believe the nerve of that filthy blood traitor, dirt poor as she is im surprised they even let her on the train let alone the rest of their family.” Draco spat each word coming out the moment the previous was spoken.
“Blaise has been looking at that ginger girl since we got on the train haven’t you Blaise.” Teased Crabbe the shorter and more rotund of Draco’s two dunces.
“I wouldn’t touch a blood traitor of that…” he paused weighing his words “Calibre.” he finally spat. “Even if she is one of the sacred Twenty-Eight. Though you have to admit. She did shoot back with a line quicker then any other first years I’ve seen on this Train.” He side eye’d Malfoy with a tight smirk on his face. Goyle then piped up stupidly,
“Yea remember that one girl Flint had crying because he made fun of her god awful acne scarring.” Crabbe burst out in a laugh just as ridiculous as the circumstance required and got a few giggles from the other Slytherins. “That's Mud-blood genes for you.” Draco said finally returning to a cool air now that he knew what the Blood-traitor Weasley had said wouldn't be used against him. He couldn’t help but agree with Blaise however, she had come back with a line that any other First year wouldn't have dared to say to a second year… “I cant help agree with your earlier statement Blaise.” Malfoy whispered to Blaise who was in the seat next to him leaning in so the less mentally adept of the carriage couldn’t hear to interject. “She’s one fiery first year…”
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Ginny assumed, and was warned, that her brothers Fred and George would lie about absolutely everything when it came to Hogwarts’ traditions and features. One thing they didn’t lie about however was the marvel of the Great Hall. Four long dark wooden tables spanned the length of the Great Hall each topped with golden plates, knifes, forks, spoons and goblets. Then looking up she realised that the ceiling was a sight in of itself. It had been bewitched to look like the sky outside glowing white moon toward the front of the hall directly over the headmasters chair gleaming stars twinkling in the dark sky and light pallid clouds looking like flowing liquid brilliance. Her attention was taken away from the magnificent ceiling to Professor McGonagall a tall witch wearing tartan rimmed bottle green robes and a pointed witches hat. “I will now call out your names, place the sorting hat on your head and you will be sorted into your houses.” she announced to the children all huddled in front of her in a strict but kind sounding voice that carried across the hall.
“Carrow, Hestia.” she called.
One by one she called out the names of students and the sorting hat took different amounts of deliberation sorting them into each of the houses
“Slytherin! Gryffindor! Hufflepuff! Gryffindor!” it bellowed and one by one McGonagall read down the list until
“Weasley, Ginevra” McGonagall called in the same clipped strict and equally kind voice. Ginny stepped up the large flagstone stairs that lead to a rickety old stool which she placed herself down onto. The hat had a lightly musty smell as it fell down just below her ears. She though she could feel it digging around in her mind looking at her conscious her memories her feelings both past and present. Then it spoke, “Hmm another Weasley eh? Second year in a row now. But this one is different it seems,” it paused for a second then continued “Brave yes no doubt about that but there’s something else here something you may not realise you posses but something that will serve you well I feel. Yes yes better be. Slytherin!” The deafening silence rang out. Everyone stared, no applause no shouting no pushing to make space for the new house member. Palpable, painful, absolute, silence.
She looked over at Ron, Percy, Fred, George and Harry to check if she was the only one to hear the sorting hat or not. When she looked a little harder she realised Ron and Harry weren't there but that didn’t matter because even McGonagall was surprised by the hats decision because she didn’t immediately move Ginny until time caught up with the taut silence in the room.
“Go on then Ginny.” McGonagall said quietly.
Nobody moved until she got close when another strange event occurred; Draco Malfoy had shuffled up the bench to give her space between her and a Slytherin she hoped neither of them knew. It wasn't much space but it was an impossible gesture to ignore as he was the only one to have made so much as a hairs breadth of movement since the sorting hat had denounced Ginny a Slytherin. “Well then Weasley care to tell me what the sorting hat was on about.” she shook her head, feeling rather sick with herself as she thought she did know what the sorting hat was talking about when it referenced
something else here something you may not realise you posses but something that will serve you well
McGonagall finished off the list of names and the feast had begun. Ginny didn't eat a single mouthful, for the whole hour and a half that the feast took up. Unable to look at the Gryffindor table. She felt like she had betrayed them; betrayed them all.
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Everything Ginny knew about Hogwarts was dependent on her being sorted into Gryffindor. The quickest routes from classes, common room trivia like the most comfortable chairs which students were nice and which students heads were bigger then the average Gryffindor’s. She even knew the teachers were more sympathetic and- lets be honest- bias toward the Gryffindors.
Ginny waited behind in the Great hall, not so long as to draw attention just long enough that she could lag behind the pack without being the centre of attention. The wall sconces did nothing to raise the temperature; though Ginny seemed to be the only one to notice the biting cold of the subterranean dungeon’s corridors.
Ginny wasn't sure who had mentioned the password within earshot of her but her body was going on auto pilot, everything she had been told thus far meant nothing. She had to get to Professor Dumbledoor as soon as possible. If she just told him that the hat made a mistake or to retry the sorting all would be put right… Ginny could only extract a sliver of hope from this turn of events though, she couldn’t help but feel like what the sorting hat said resonated with her on some level that she didn’t know yet. Her feet had walked her up the cold stone spiral stairs into the first year girl’s dormitory fit with 4 poster beds draped in green and silver hangings with corresponding bed covers layed over a king size mattress beside the opulent bed was a bed-side table with her trunk to the side. It was only when she saw her trunk did her brain kick back in and retract her from her dazed state. Tom Riddle’s diary, she almost said aloud. She undid the latches holding down the lid and rummaged aggressively through the contents until she hit the bottom, the dog-eared black leather diary sat there wrapped in a tee-shirt. She drew her bed-hangings closed; swiftly leaned back against the headboard and began to scrawl.
Tom are you there? Again as if the diary had been waiting an eternity, the neat cursive script of Tom Riddle rose out of the page in reply.
Of course I’m here Ginny, are you in Hogwarts yet? the writing disappeared the moment she had read it.
Yes I’m in Hogwarts and something terrible has happened, a mistake. the words sunk down and a one word answer came back at her.
What? Her writing became frantic now trying as hard as she could to dispel her feelings onto the parchment before they over came her again.
I’ve been sorted into Slytherin… The words sunk in, but the reply took time to appear on the yellowed parchment.
I was in Slytherin, Ginny… Ginny stared at the book, it was just a book after all she had convinced herself of it. People charm objects into relative consciousness all the time. This book however clearly wasn't charmed to life.
You were?
Yes, it is an honour to be sorted into Slytherin Ginny, and it must be fate. For you and I to meet and be put in the same house. The writing was becoming quicker, the time between the messages being written and appearing shortening with every message.
You can trust me Ginny. Those other friends, they mock you and patronise you and belittle you. Is It really better to be in a house with them. Or to share a house with a true friend, your one true friend… With me.
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A/N: So this is the first chapter and currently my very first ever fanfic that I’ve posted to an online forum. A little bit of information: the lines of = signs denote a change of context I suppose is the word so it’ll split the summary the prologue and ratings summary authors note etc. And the lines of – signs are to denote a change of POV or a drastic change in scenery/time so form the train to the main hall main hall to the dorms etc. I hope you all enjoy this. This story is un-beta’d (im taking any offers if anyone wants to beta.) Thank you for reading!
Don't expect regular uploads im a little shaky when it comes to posting and schedules do be tight right now but ill try and thats all I can promise…