Eternal Despair (Harry Potter/OC)

𝟙𝟠: End of Year 2

For a moment, silence enveloped the room as Enzo, Harry, Ron, Aurora, Ginny, and Lockhart stood in the doorway, dripping with muck and slime, and in Harry’s case, smeared with blood. The tension broke with a piercing scream.

"Ginny!"

Mrs. Weasley, who had been sobbing by the fire, sprang to her feet. Mr. Weasley followed suit, and both parents rushed to their daughter, enveloping her in a frantic embrace.

From the corner of his eye, Enzo saw his grandmother clutching Aurora tightly. But his main focus was elsewhere. Near the mantelpiece, Professor Dumbledore stood beaming, while Professor McGonagall took deep, steadying breaths, one hand clutched to her chest in relief.

Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, soared past Enzo's ear and settled gracefully on Dumbledore's shoulder just as Enzo, Harry, and Ron were swept into Mrs. Weasley's tight hug.

"You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"

Professor McGonagall, still shaky, added, "I think we'd all like to know that."

Mrs. Weasley released Enzo and Harry, who hesitated briefly before walking over to the desk. They placed the Sorting Hat, the ruby-encrusted sword, and the tattered remains of Riddle's diary upon it.

They began recounting their ordeal, speaking into a rapt silence for nearly fifteen minutes.

Professor McGonagall prodded, "So you discovered the entrance, breaking numerous school rules in the process. But how did you survive?"

Enzo, taking over the narrative, carefully avoided mentioning Riddle's diary or Aurora and Ginny's roles. Ginny stood with her head resting on her mother’s shoulder, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Aurora looked at Enzo with a mixture of fear and pity.

Panic gripped Enzo. What if they were expelled? How could they prove it was Riddle’s influence and not their own actions? Instinctively, he glanced at Dumbledore, who gave a faint smile, the firelight reflecting off his half-moon spectacles.

"What interests me most," Dumbledore said gently, "is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Aurora and Ginny when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania."

Relief, warm and overwhelming, washed over Harry and Enzo.

"What is he talking about?" Mrs. Black's cold voice cut through the air.

"W-what's that?" Mr. Weasley stammered. "You-Know-Who? Enchant Ginny? But Ginny's not... Ginny hasn't been, has she?"

"It was this diary," Enzo interjected quickly, holding up the book for Dumbledore to examine.

"Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen." Dumbledore took the diary, his keen eyes examining its burnt, soggy pages.

"Brilliant," he murmured. "He was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen." He turned to the Weasleys, who looked utterly bewildered, and Mrs. Black, who remained stoic.

"Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving school, traveled far and wide, delved deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the worst of our kind, and underwent so many dangerous magical transformations that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was hardly recognizable. Few connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here."

"But, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley’s voice trembled. "What's our Ginny got to do with him?"

"And how was my granddaughter, who was supposed to be under your protection, Albus, fraternizing with Lord Voldemort?" Mrs. Black demanded.