The Legacy of Salazar

His Advice

Ginny sat cross-legged in one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room, absentmindedly flipping through her Transfiguration textbook. She was just wondering when they would reach the chapter about turning tortoises into teapots when the portrait hole burst open, and Lee Jordan rushed inside.

"There's been another attack!" he announced, breathless, an anxiety on his brow that Ginny had never seen before. "Justin Flinch-Fletchley and Nick!"

"Nick?" came Hermione's voice somewhere behind Ginny and she turned to see Hermione standing in the doorway to the dormitory, her eyes wide. "The Gryffindor Ghost?"

"Yeah!"

At this, there was an outcry of panic. A ghost was attacked? But how was that possible? Ginny sat, stunned, as the conversation swelled around her. It sounded like Merlin had been seen standing next to the new victims, but he'd been in the company of Hagrid. Speculation ran rampant. Ginny's heart did funny little somersaults.

Where had she been, fifteen-twenty minutes ago? She'd only just sat down here to read after finding herself in her dormitory with several long rooster feathers on her robes. What had she done?

Knowing that no one would notice her, Ginny pulled out her diary.

Dear Tom, there was another attack today and I don't know where I was.

She wondered if Tom could read the panic in her shaky script. She waited, her breathing shallow as she watched the letters sink into the page. After a moment, he replied.

Slow down, Ginny. What happened?

She wrote down everything she could overhear from Lee Jordan, who was now retelling what had happened to new arrivals.

And, I had another blackout, not fifteen minutes ago! I found more feathers on my robes and I know heard Hagrid complaining about someone killing his roosters the other day. Oh, Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad...

Her hand hovered above the page, her heart fluttering in her throat. She brought down her quill again, working to keep her hand steady as tears pricked at her eyes.

...I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom.

He wrote back at once.

Ginny, how could it be you? You're not Slytherin's heir. Merlin said he heard a snake, didn't he? You don't know Parseltongue—how could you be the one attacking people?

Ginny felt her lip tremble. I don't know, I don't know, she wrote, shaking her head. I know it doesn't make sense. But it's too much of a coincidence!

Why don't you go to Merlin about it?

Ginny blinked. Merlin? She'd never considered—Do you think he could help?

Well, he's the only one you know who speaks Parseltongue. And from all that you've told me, he seems like the type of person who would be able to prove that you're not capable of something like this. And if you are—Tom seemed to pause a moment, as though choosing his next words very carefully—he'd be the only one who could stop you.

Ginny read, and then re-read the words as they faded back into the page. A small part of her still hoped she was overreacting or that she'd developed some sort of rare condition and could be cured after a weekend in St. Mungos. Or, even, that she was completely delusional. She'd take madness over unconsciously attempting murder any day. Still, Tom's words calmed her. However getting a chance to speak to Merlin was going to be difficult, what with the holidays coming up.

He's going home for the holidays, I think, she wrote back in dismay.

Well, that gives us time to come up with a plan. After all, we're going to have to do this delicately. We want him to take you seriously, don't we?

Yes! Ginny wrote back, the tears gone. And as Tom started giving suggestions on how to broach the topic with Merlin, she relaxed. She was so lucky to have Tom to talk to.