"Let's see… oh this is perfect! Right over here guys, this closet is empty!"
A laughing group of older students emerged from behind the corner a moment later, dragging a young blonde girl despite her struggles.
"This'll teach you to act like such a freak Looney, alright strip and toss her in!"
"N-no please don't!"
Luna's pleas went unheeded and moments later she found herself stuffed into a closet naked, with a locking charm securing the door from the outside.
"I tell you what, if we end up losing the House Cup this year because of her… I am going to leave her in the closet over the summer."
"I hear you, hopefully whatever is petrifying students finds her next."
The others nodded, and chuckled before departing for their next class, leaving a terrified and sobbing first year student alone for more than a few hours before the spell wore off.
...
Hermione Granger laid on her bed, staring up at the blank ceiling in her shared room, curtains drawn. If it had been a month ago she would be reading a book, studying, or doing homework. Instead she was just staring, her mind wandering as she gently held a black handkerchief in her right hand, stroking it softly with her fingers.
It was unlike anything she had even felt before, feather-light, warm when she was cold, cool when she was too hot. Even stranger though was how silky it felt, like it was made of the finest sheets she had even seen. It was comforting, as though she was connected to someone when she held it, almost as if she was holding his hand.
Her thoughts drifted back to the mysterious boy, no it was Mr. Rochester now, and the few minutes they had spent together. It couldn't have been more than ten, maybe fifteen minutes at most and yet… and yet it had been like a breath of fresh air when she had been stuck in a dusty stagnant house for years.
Now she couldn't get him out of her mind, when she slept she dreamed of him. Her daydreams were focused around him.
A part of her, the rational side, was more than a little terrified at what was happening, at the obsession that was building inside of her. Yet the part that craved attention, that part that just wanted someone to care, craved to be near him, desired for him to look at her as something more than just some silly schoolgirl, that perhaps one day they could walk hand-in-hand together, perhaps even intimately.
...
It was far too dangerous to continue accessing the Chamber. The diary's host had almost been noticed during her last return and if that happened the entire plan would be ruined. Thus the Basilisk would simply be left to continue the attacks on its own while the redhead would continue being drained of her essence.
Tom Riddle, in temporary control of Ginny Weasley, made his way down the hallway towards an empty classroom. There he would relinquish control over the girl while giving her a few more mental suggestions. Another few weeks and the ritual could be completed. Just a few more weeks and…
"Hello Miss Weasley."
No
Voldemort's control vanished in an instant as the girl froze, her face turning bright red at the voice she had secretly learned to covet over the past few months called out from behind her.
Harry Potter
"H-h-hello"
"A rather nice evening for a stroll is it not?" the boy inquired, as he casually walked up next to her.
"Y-y-yes…"
"Indeed, tell me Miss Weasley… or may I call you Ginny?"
The girl's heart practically exploded in excitement, and it was all she could do to nod.
"Excellent, tell me Ginny are you feeling tired?"
"T-tired? I don't…"
His hand splayed out in front of her face, and the first year fell unconscious in an instant, with only the raven-haired boy's arm preventing her from collapsing forward onto the floor. With his free hand he reached out and took the book she had been cradling next to her chest.
"How very interesting…"
...
Draco Malfoy prided himself upon several things. First he was an outstanding seeker, just ask him he would tell you for hours. Second he was above average in all of his classes, and more than adequate in a duel. Third was the fact of his blood purity, although this fact was slowly becoming less important with time. Fourth was his Lord's faith in his abilities, arguably the thing he was most proud of. Finally he was experienced in the magical world, meaning that very little could cause him pause or shock at this point…
Or so he thought, that is until Harry Potter, his Lord and Master, came walking into the Slytherin common rooms with a book in his left hand, and an unconscious Ginny Weasley thrown over his right shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Needless to say this earned a silent confusion until someone gathered up the courage to make further inquiries.
"Ummm… my Lord?"
"Yes Blaise."
"Uhh… you have a redhead on your shoulder…"
"I am well aware thank you."
"Errr why?"
"Because carrying her bridal style might cause even more rumors, and dragging her on the ground seems a bit harsh."
"Uhhhh."
"Yes?"
"What I think Blaise is trying to say my Lord is that… why are you carrying her around?" the Malfoy heir inquired, earning a silent thanks from the dark skinned boy.
"Ah, because she is unconscious. I couldn't exactly leave the poor girl in the hallway now could I? Imagine what horrors could have befallen her."
"O-of course…"
"Now then if you will excuse me, I need to begin extracting Miss Weasley's life force from the book so that she may recover from her attempted possession."
With that the raven-haired boy opened the secret passage to his personal quarters, which promptly closed behind him leaving a stunned group of students staring in his wake.
"Wait… did he just say 'possession'?"
.....
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