"Mira, come on! Can't you just forgive me?" Emily whined, trailing after Mira, who was shoving books into her bag with tight, jerky movements. It was Monday and this had been going on for three days now - ever since the Truth or Dare game.
"You said you were fine with it before the kiss! And why are you only mad at me?"
Mira didn't answer. She just slung her bag over her shoulder and turned away, stiff with irritation.
"Shut up and leave me alone," she snapped.
She'd spent all of Friday avoiding them, sitting at the far end of the classroom, slipping away between lessons. Over the weekend, she'd vanished - probably buried herself in the library - and even mealtimes had been spent away from them at the Gryffindor table.
"Ginny! Please talk to her," Emily groaned, turning to her for help. "Maybe another kiss will stop her from getting all huffy."
"Shut up!" Mira's ears went red. How cute.
Then, with a sharp glare, she stormed out of the room, leaving Emily, Daisy and Ginny behind.
Ginny sighed dramatically. "I'll talk to her."
She hurried after Mira, catching up just outside an empty classroom near the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.
"Mira!" She caught her by an empty classroom near the Gryffindor common room. "Wait!"
Mira stopped, turning with a reluctant scowl.
"Can we talk?" Ginny gestured to the room.
Mira nodded and they slipped inside, door clicking shut behind them.
"Mira, you've been mad at Emily for three days - avoiding her, me, even Daisy. What's going on?"
Ginny asked, feigning a worried frown. "I'm sorry if kissing me was that awful, but…"
"No!" Mira blurted out, face flushing. "I mean… I…I'm just confused." She hesitated, then looked at Ginny, uncertain. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Ginny said gently, taking Mira's hands in hers. She didn't miss the way Mira's blush deepened.
"Why did you agree to it? Do you… not mind kissing a girl?" Mira's voice was small, uncertain.
Ginny recognized the real question beneath it.
She'd given it some thought. After her reincarnation, she was fairly sure she was now bisexual, but she definitely preferred boys. Kissing Harry had been… electric. It made her want to pull him close, run her hands through his hair, see how it felt with tongue.
Mira, on the other hand? That kiss had been… nice. Pleasant, but nothing compared to what she felt with Harry. She wouldn't mind doing it again, but if she had a choice? It would be him.
Now, how best to answer? Keeping Mira on the hook could be useful - and, if she was honest, she liked being wanted. Being desired. Letting Mira go would be a waste.
Best to play dumb.
Ginny tilted her head, lips pressing together as if deep in thought. "I heard older girls say it's totally normal to practice kissing with other girls so they're good at it when they get boyfriends." She hesitated, as if piecing together her own thoughts. "And you and Emily both said it wouldn't count as my first kiss, so… I didn't think it was a big deal. You said you were okay with it and I…" She cast her eyes downward, as if embarrassed. "I was just curious what it would feel like."
"Oh," Mira said, disappointment flickering before she masked it. Did she hope Ginny had a secret crush on her?
Ginny bit her lip, voice softening. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm really sorry." She hesitated just long enough to seem unsure. "Can we all go back to normal? I hate when we're like this."
She looked up, wide-eyed and regretful, knowing Mira wouldn't be able to resist.
Mira swallowed, then sighed. "Okay…"
"Thank you!" Ginny beamed, pulling her into a tight hug - Mira's flush deepened - and, for good measure, grabbed her hand, towing the flustered girl back to the common room.
Breakfast was still a little tense, but Mira was speaking to Emily again.
Ginny glanced at Harry sitting a few seats away with his roommates. She pretended to be angry at Harry for kissing her, while also pretending to hide her anger badly, so the stupid, dense boy would realise it.
She hadn't spoken much to him since and hadn't allowed him to apologise.
Kissing Harry had been so much better than kissing Mira had been. It was almost scary…
Maybe it was a little unfair to Mira… Dancing below the Wild Feylights, with the music and fires had been so beautiful and romantic… She really had expected Harry to at least confess his love to her after the kiss, not to stupidly give an excuse - even if it was true.
Who cared that she had compelled a few old witches to nudge the stupid boy in the right direction.
Stupid boy. Couldn't he read the mood…
But she wasn't actually angry at him. That was just an act… It was.
She glanced from Harry to Mira - what kind of dumb teenage drama had her life become?
Stupid teenage hormones…
After breakfast, Ginny trudged to Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Croaker. Ginny had to admit that he was at least competent and knew his subject well. Still, the presence of an Unspeakable as a professor filled her with a lingering sense of paranoia, she tried to ignore.
"For homework, I asked you to read the chapter on the Curse of the Bogies and its counter-curse. Today, we'll have a practical lesson to learn these two spells. Some students - who think they're especially clever - try to use this curse to skip lessons, as if Madam Pomfrey wouldn't recognize it immediately. But, of course, no one here would attempt such a thing," Croaker began, his gaze sweeping over the class.
"Curses are generally defined as dark charms. However, I wouldn't be teaching you how to cast Dark Magic," he continued. "Can anyone tell me why the Curse of the Bogies is classified as a curse but not considered Dark Magic?"
Silence. No one raised a hand.
"Miss Weasley, why don't you enlighten us?" Croaker said, singling her out. Clearly, someone had told him to challenge her more than the others.
Suppressing a sigh, Ginny answered, "As you explained in our first lesson, the key difference between Dark Magic and other forms of magic is intent. The Dark Arts don't function without the intent to harm, maim or dominate. The Curse of the Bogies is more effective if you genuinely want the target to suffer, but intent isn't a requirement for the spell to work, which is why it's not classified as Dark Magic."
She paused briefly before continuing, "Curses, like hexes and jinxes, must have a primarily negative effect on the victim - this holds true for the Curse of the Bogies. As for why it's considered a curse and not a hex… I believe it's because, if left untreated, the symptoms can escalate to the point where the victim collapses. That level of harm exceeds the threshold of a mere major inconvenience."
"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor," Croaker praised her. "That is absolutely correct."
He turned to the rest of the class.
"Miss Fenwick and Miss Kirke, why don't you two demonstrate the Curse of the Bogies - Mucus ad Nauseam - and its counter-curse - Mucus Finite?" He gestured for them to come to the front. "Miss Fenwick, you may begin."
A small smile played on Mira's lips. Ginny didn't miss the lingering resentment beneath it - Mira was still upset with Emily, despite having officially forgiven her. At least, for once, Ginny wasn't the one being used for a demonstration.
"Mucus ad Nauseam," Mira cast, sending a jet of green light toward Emily, who immediately doubled over, sneezing uncontrollably as her nose began to run.
"Very good, Miss Fenwick! Now, the counter-curse."
"Yes, Professor… uh, Mucum Finite."
Nothing happened, aside from Emily sniffling miserably into a handkerchief.
"It's Mucus Finite, Miss Fenwick," Croaker corrected gently, an amused glint in his eyes. Did he notice the tension between them?
"Ah, I thought accusative would make more sense than nominative. Why isn't it Mucum Finite, Professor?" Mira asked, feigning curiosity while conveniently ignoring Emily's continued sneezing fit.
"The Latin in spell incantations isn't always grammatically perfect," Croaker explained. "However, the incantations are tied to the spell's formula and its Arithmantic properties. That's a topic far too advanced for a first-year lecture. Why don't you try again?"
"Yes, Professor. Mucus Finite."
With a precise sweep of her wand, Mira ended the spell and Emily's sneezing fit ceased. Emily, now red-faced and irritated, shot Mira a glare.
For the rest of the lesson, the students split into pairs - Ginny was partnered with Daisy - and took turns casting the curse and its counter-curse on each other. The room was soon filled with the constant sound of sneezing, which might have been amusing if Ginny hadn't been forced to endure it herself.
Later, Professor Croaker gave a more detailed explanation of the distinctions between curses, hexes, and jinxes. Though Ginny already knew most of it from Riddle's memories, she still found the lecture interesting.
She took out her private notebook, pretending to search for her DADA notes. In reality, she was checking the left corner of page 37 - just another mundane page filled with Herbology notes at first glance. But there, in the corner, was a small X. A private message to herself.
It was part of an experiment she had devised using her Time-Turner, safely stored in the Chamber of Secrets. Searching the Room of Hidden Things was eating up her days, so she'd devised a trick: If she searched and found nothing, she'd go back in time and sketch an O on the page. If she found something valuable, she'd mark an X. The symbol would guide her past self - O or blank meant stay away, X meant go.
But an O would break causality. If she found nothing and marked it, her past self wouldn't have searched - so who drew the O? That paradox couldn't hold. It left only two outcomes: A blank page (no search, no find) or an X (search and succeed). Muggle logic might say the page would always stay empty, but an X appearing was equally valid within the rules of time travel.
And a week ago, an X had appeared in her notebook - leading her to find an old book on blood pacts. The thrill of confirming her method worked had excited her more than the book itself.
And now, for the second time, there it was again: X
Excitement thrummed through her as she packed her things, barely listening as Professor Croaker dismissed the class. The moment she was free, she strode past her roommates, already focused on what came next.
"Sorry, I need to go to the toilet. You go ahead without me, okay?" she said in passing.
"Do you want us to come with you?" Mira asked, her tone a little too eager - probably hoping for a moment alone with Ginny.
"No need," Ginny replied smoothly. "I'll meet you in the Great Hall for lunch."
With that, she turned on her heel and headed for the Chamber of Secrets.
Later, after using the Time-Turner, she made her way - now invisible - to the Room of Requirement. The X meant everything would go smoothly.
As she began searching for the valuable item, she was destined to find, a familiar voice echoed behind her.
"What a marvellous room! I wish I had known about it when I was a student."
Ginny spun around.
Professor Croaker stood casually in the doorway, his posture relaxed, but his presence set every nerve in her body on edge. What was he doing here?
"Miss Weasley," he continued leisurely, "I could have sworn you were supposed to be in the Great Hall, having breakfast right now. Curious, isn't it?"
"As should you," Ginny replied tensely. At this very moment, her past self was sitting at the Gryffindor table with her roommates and Croaker was sitting at the staff table - meaning he had also travelled back in time. Her past life's memories told her that Croaker was an Unspeakable, which meant he had access to Time-Turners.
She had often wondered why an Unspeakable would masquerade as a professor. Had Dumbledore arranged it? Was it some unrelated Ministry business? She had hoped - naïvely, it seemed - that it had nothing to do with her.
"The Ministry has detected time ripples originating from Hogwarts recently," Croaker said, stepping further into the room. "The wards prevented us from pinpointing the source, but we knew there were no registered time-turners inside the castle. So I took it upon myself to investigate. I already suspected a student had found a lost Time-Turner… and now, this room answers the question of where." His eyes flicked around at the endless stacks of forgotten artifacts before settling back on her. He extended his hand, expectant. "Now, be a good girl and hand it over."
She knew exactly how serious an unauthorized Time-Turner violation was. Magical Law didn't care much for age - once you had a wand, you could be tried as an adult in certain cases. If she gave it up, there would be consequences.
"You're an Unspeakable, aren't you?" she asked, feigning ignorance to buy herself time.
Croaker chuckled. "Oh? You figured that out? Your father works at the Ministry… perhaps he let something slip?" He shrugged. "No matter. Yes, I am and the Department of Mysteries isn't concerned with punishing you - only recovering the Time-Turner. I'm not an Auror, Miss Weasley. Just hand it over peacefully and this whole thing will be forgotten."
She hesitated. He wasn't an Auror and he sounded sincere…
Motherfucker! She slammed down her Occlumency shields. That bastard had just used a wandless Compulsion Charm on her - her trick!
No. He wasn't here to simply retrieve the Time-Turner. If he got his hands on it, the next step would be Veritaserum. Legilimency. Azkaban, if she was lucky. Death, if she wasn't.
There was no other option.
She had to fight.
Ginny struck first.
If she was lucky, she'd catch Professor Croaker off guard while he was still underestimating her - a mere first-year.
"Expulso!" The explosive curse surged forward, a streak of blue light tearing through the air. At the same time, she silently cast a Shield Penetration Spell. Tom Riddle's experiments had proven that the Shield Penetration Spell moved just a fraction faster than the Expulso Curse, allowing it to shatter any protective shield moments before the main attack struck.
She hoped the bluish-white dart - far smaller than the one Voldemort had cast in the Deathly Hallows - would be concealed within the glow of the Expulso Curse. That and the fact that Croaker wouldn't expect a first-year to cast silently, might give her an edge.
"Impressive! Silent casting at your age." Croaker sounded genuinely pleased as, with a flick of his wand, a slab of stone materialized in the spell's path. A shimmering white barrier - likely Protego Maxima - encased him a heartbeat later.
Ginny clenched her teeth. The slab would absorb the Shield Penetration Spell and the shield would withstand the explosion. She didn't have time to hesitate. She kept casting.
A Blasting Curse and a Reductor Curse shot toward Croaker, Ginny timing them to strike just as the lingering explosion from her Expulso Curse erupted. If the blast blinded him and weakened his shield, she might have a chance. A second later, the chamber shook with the detonation and her orange and blue spells tore through the settling dust.
But when the smoke cleared, Croaker remained standing - unharmed, his shield intact.
"Now, now," he chided, almost amused. "You really shouldn't throw dark magic around so carelessly. For your information, the shield I cast was Protego Horribilis - specifically designed to counter dark spells."
Without missing a beat, he raised his wand. "Locomotor Mortis, Expelliarmus, Stupefy, Petrificus Totalus." The incantations were clear, calm and methodical. A barrage of reddish, white and bluish-white spells hurtled toward her.
Ginny instinctively cast a Protego Maxima, its white shimmer rising, but froze as she clocked the mismatch: None of his named spells were blue. Her stomach clenched - a Shield Penetration Spell. He used my own trick against me, again! Fury burned through her as she flung herself aside. The barrage slammed into a teetering pile of boxes behind her, sending splinters and debris flying.
Ginny cast an Incendio Tria - the most potent variant of the fire-starting spell - engulfing the wooden crates and debris in intense blue flames. With a silent Banishing Charm, she then propelled the burning remnants toward Professor Croaker.
"Arresto Momentum," Croaker intoned, his voice calm and measured. The fiery projectiles decelerated abruptly, hovering close to Ginny. His deliberate use of vocal incantations seemed to mock her - a subtle reminder of his superiority.
Through the flickering flames, Ginny's eyes widened as she discerned elongated, bright red stones nestled within one of the crates - Ashwinder eggs! A surge of dread washed over her. The eggs pulsed, cracks spidering across their shells, red light bleeding through. She barely had time to raise her wand in a futile attempt to cast a Shield Charm before the eggs detonated.
A deafening roar split the air. Ginny barely had time to register the bright flash before the shockwave slammed into her. Heat seared across her left side, a furnace-hot blast that seemed to ignite her skin. Then came the force - an invisible hammer smashing into her chest, flinging her backward like a ragdoll.
The world tilted. A rush of motion. Then impact.
She crashed into a jagged pile of junk - splintered desks, rusted metal, broken shelves - her right leg smashing against a wooden beam with a sharp, wet crack. She landed hard, sprawled amid the wreckage, ears ringing, the world a muffled blur.
For a heartbeat, she felt nothing but the disorienting hum in her skull. Her chest heaved, drawing in air thick with smoke and the sharp, sickening stench of burned flesh. She glanced down - her left arm and side were a mess of glistening red and black, skin blistered and peeling, the fabric of her robes fused to the wounds. Her right leg bent at a grotesque angle, the shinbone snapped, jutting unnaturally beneath her torn robes.
Then the pain.
A shudder ripped through her, the left side igniting into a white-hot torment, every nerve ablaze as if the flames still clung to her. Her broken leg throbbed, a deep, grinding ache spiking with each gasp. A choked whimper escaped her lips - she clenched her jaw, tasting ash and blood, vision blurring.
Through the haze, she saw Croaker approaching, his face taut with something like regret.
His boots crunched over splintered wood as he stepped closer, wand held loosely at his side. "It didn't have to go this far, Miss Weasley," he murmured, voice low, almost weary. "Expelliarmus."
Ginny barely registered the spell before her wand - that she was somehow still holding - was yanked from her fingers, sailing into Croaker's grasp.
"You could've just handed over the Time-Turner," he said, turning her wand over in his palm. "I take it you haven't changed your mind?"
Ginny's chest heaved, every breath a jagged stab against her fractured leg, the burns on her left side throbbing like molten fire. "Go to hell," she rasped, the words scraping through her ash-choked throat, defiance a fragile thread holding her together.
"No need for rudeness," Croaker said, a steely edge slipping into his calm. He crouched, eyes narrowing as they locked onto hers. "If you won't yield, I'll rip it from your mind myself. Legilimens!"
Maybe he expected the simplest form of Occlumency - an empty mind, carefully smoothed over to make it harder for Legilimency to latch onto a single memory or emotion, the starting point from which it could trace connections to others.
But he hadn't accounted for real mind shields. Decades in the void had forged them, walls of magic wrapped around her mind like an unbreakable shell. His Legilimency Spell struck them… and rebounded.
The backlash hit Croaker like a physical blow. He flinched, eyes unfocused for a fraction of a second.
Ginny's one chance.
She thrust a shaking hand upward, pain roaring through her and croaked, "Stupefy." A red spark flared from her fingertips, streaking into Croaker before he could muster a shield. He crumpled to the debris-strewn floor and Ginny sagged back, victorious amid the ruins.
Pain throbbed through Ginny, burns searing her left side, her right leg - a shattered wreck. She'd love to heal it with a wand flick, but healing magic wasn't her strength. Brackium Emendo might work for clean breaks, but not this mess. She needed Skele-Gro and Burn-Healing Paste and there might be internal injuries she couldn't even assess.
Her wand lay next to Croaker. With a strained breath, she summoned it wandlessly, the familiar wood snapping back into her hand.
For now, she had to improvise. Drawing from Riddle's memories, she performed Human Transfiguration, a skill taught only in sixth year. Carefully, she reshaped the burned skin on her left side into smooth, unblemished flesh and reformed her mangled leg into a whole, uninjured one.
It wasn't real healing - beneath the temporary transfiguration, the fractures and burns remained. She would have to make her way to the Hospital Wing with a convincing excuse. But first, she had a more immediate problem - the unconscious professor lying beside her.
She pushed herself up on her partially transfigured body, the lingering pain dulled to a distant throb, and levelled her wand at Croaker.
"Legilimens." Ironically, it was now her turn to use Legilimency on Croaker. In his unconscious state, his mental defences were weaker and after some effort, Ginny managed to slip past his shields and access his most recent memories. Large portions were locked behind Unbreakable Vows - likely tied to his Unspeakable work - but she wasn't interested in those right now.
What mattered was that, after their Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, he had sensed the time ripples from her time travel and followed suit. Then, using Hogwarts' wards, he had tracked down a lone student on the seventh floor - her - while most of the school was in the Great Hall and pursued her here.
His past self would travel back in time in three hours from his office - the fight had lasted a surprisingly short time, even if it had felt longer. That gave her an idea.
"Obliviate." She erased all memories from before the moment he had sensed the time ripples.
In three hours, when his past-self used his Time-Turner, she would slip inside his office and place his unconscious form back in his chair. When the effects of her Stunning Spell wore off, he'd hopefully assume he had simply dozed off. Even if he realized he'd been Obliviated, there would be no trace of her or any connection to time travel.
Right now, her past self was at breakfast in the Great Hall, her notebook tucked in her trunk in the dorm. That X on page 37… it had sent her here and now she had to write it. She had no choice.
It had already happened and if she refused, causality would force the X into existence some other, worse way - Dumbledore, Croaker, even a random house-elf would write it instead.
Her little experiment with the Time-Turner had aspects she hadn't considered. The moment an X appeared, she was bound to go back and put it there - no matter what.
Suppressing a sigh, she made her way to the first-year girls' dormitory under the Disillusionment Charm and inked an X on page 37.
Then she returned to Croaker's unconscious form, settling in for the long wait. She refreshed the Stunning Spell and her transfigurations at regular intervals, letting the hours pass in silence.
When the time came, she went to Croaker's office with his unconscious body hovering beside her - both of them invisible - and, as planned, placed him into his chair. Fortunately, he had known the exact moment he had used his Time-Turner.
Now she needed an excuse for her injuries. Pulling out the Marauder's Map, she saw that Harper was alone with Draco Malfoy, a second-year, for some reason in an abandoned classroom.
That would do.
Still invisible, she made her way there and waited for Harper to step outside. The moment he did, she hit him with several Compulsion Charms, subtly nudging his mind toward the scene she needed. Then she moved to the Transfiguration Courtyard, where Harper would soon meet her.
The courtyard was usually quiet before lunch, but there would be witnesses - students passing through, eyes watching from the windows above. That was precisely what she needed.
Now visible, she strolled casually as Harper stormed in.
"You!" he shouted, already levelling his wand at her, his face twisted with rage. Apparently, Harry had told her brothers about Harper's failed attempt to hex her and they had seized the opportunity to relentlessly prank the Slytherin first-year.
"Me," she replied, sounding bored, barely sparing him a glance as she kept walking.
"You blood-traitor bitch! You sent your brothers after me!" he snarled, his fury stoked by her compulsions.
Ginny had already cast Ignis Immunis - a variant of the Flame-Freezing Charm - on herself, rendering her temporarily immune to fire damage. She had also placed a Cushioning Charm on the iron armillary sphere in the centre of the courtyard.
Harper's wand snapped up. "Bombarda!"
She feigned panic, twisting just in time so the explosion struck her left side, a partially raised Shield Charm absorbing the worst of it. The instant the blast hit, she released the transfiguration on her burned skin, letting the real injuries resurface. The force of the explosion flung her backward - just as planned - straight toward the armillary sphere. As she crashed into it, she undid the transfiguration on her right leg.
Agony flared back to life. A strangled scream escaped her throat.
Distantly, she heard shouting - gasps, cries from the watching students. Harper stood frozen, his face slack with horror.
She raised her wand with the last of her strength. "Stupefy."
The red spark hit him, knocking him out and then her vision faded as she slipped into unconsciousness.