The next morning, Ginny arrived in the Great Hall feeling groggy. Thinking back on what had happened the night before, she still found it hard to believe.
She had actually agreed to lend Mr. Riddle her body. And she had lent it to him again that very night. Now, just as she had expected, nothing had gone wrong, even though she felt a little tired.
Mr. Riddle really would never hurt her.
Still half asleep, Ginny spread jam on her bread and mechanically stuffed it into her mouth.
Then a loud, piercing voice exploded through the Great Hall, jolting her awake.
"Ron-you dared to cast a spell on your classmate! And you led your little sister astray, too-we're not even a month into the school year! How dare you do something like this-and you two, Fred, George!"
Ginny saw a red envelope turn into a mouth, hovering above the Gryffindor table and roaring abuse!
It had given Ron and the twins a thorough scolding, and now it turned toward her.
Her face instantly went deathly pale.
Yesterday, she had been so preoccupied with Mr. Riddle that she had completely forgotten Professor McGonagall had told her mother about her casting a spell on an older student.
Seeing the letter approach, Ginny wanted to run away on the spot. Being scolded in front of everyone would be mortifying. In fact, the two students who had been sitting beside her had already jumped away at the first sign of trouble, afraid of getting caught in the Howler's blast.
To Ginny's surprise, however, when the Howler stopped in front of her, Molly's voice suddenly softened. "I've heard all about it, Little Ginny. I must say, you did well. Don't worry, no one's giving your father any trouble. If Percy had been hexed by a first-year, we wouldn't have any grounds to complain either. Of course, don't be so impulsive next time. If you run into trouble, it's best to tell the professors, all right? See you over the Christmas holidays."
With that, the Howler immediately burst into flames.
Ron and the twins all felt rather hard done by.
If anyone had really crossed the line, it was Ginny. Hers had been the only spell that actually worked, yet they were the only ones who had been scolded.
"Do you think that's fair?" Ron demanded angrily.
"Oh, come on. That's what you get for having a little sister." Fred and George took it in stride.
"Besides, Ginny really was brilliant yesterday."
Ever since the story of what had happened yesterday spread through Gryffindor, Ginny had become something of a Gryffindor hero. In comparison, Ron looked rather pathetic.
Ron was still angry. It was as though nothing good ever happened to him. At that thought, he cast another miserable glance at his broken wand, covered in tape. If it hadn't been for that thing, his spell might have worked too.
"Cheer up. Don't be jealous of Ginny. If it weren't for her, you might still be throwing up slugs," Hermione said soothingly.
"I'm not jealous of her. She's my sister. I just think it's a bit unfair, as though I'm the only one having bad luck." Ron could only sit down and gnaw miserably on a chicken leg.
"I just hope Marcus Flint doesn't get out of the hospital wing before the match," Harry said with a grin. Then he lowered his voice and told Ron and Hermione about the voice he had heard the previous night. He had actually already told Ron last night, but neither of them had any idea what to make of it.
Over the following days, Cyrus occasionally used Ginny's body to move around at night.
He wasn't doing it to control the basilisk and kill people. In fact, his plan hadn't truly begun yet. He spent most of his time practicing spells in the Room of Requirement. Although Cyrus had absorbed Riddle's memories and theoretical knowledge, knowing the theory and casting spells proficiently were entirely different things. Given the difficulties he might face after his resurrection,
Cyrus needed to make his magic powerful enough. He slowly ate away at Ginny's life force, though he was careful to keep it within limits. These days, Ginny looked as though she had caught a cold.
As Halloween drew closer, the temperature at Hogwarts had begun to drop. This was the worst time of year for colds, and more than half the school's young witches and wizards were listless. Percy was worried about her and kept making her drink Pepperup Potion. As a result, steam had been rising from her head constantly lately, making her fiery red hair look as though it were burning.
Inside the spacious classroom, several wooden dummies rushed toward "Ginny."
"Ginny"-who was actually Cyrus-watched them coldly, his yew wand held in his hand. Faced with attacks from all sides, he didn't panic in the slightest.
Only when the leading dummy closed in did Cyrus raise his wand like lightning and fire off a spell.
The dummy struck by the spell didn't last even a second. It exploded outright, scattering powder everywhere.
Without pausing, Cyrus rolled across the floor to dodge the attacks of two more dummies, yet there was nothing clumsy about his movements. Turning from a half crouch, he sliced the two dummies into sixteen pieces!
Under his control, the wooden fragments floated up and hurtled like meteors toward the remaining dummies, knocking them down.
Then the solid floor bulged upward, forming several enormous hands that seized them and held them immobile.
In the blink of an eye, he had dealt with more than a dozen dummies, all without speaking a single incantation.
Cyrus was fairly satisfied with his performance. After all, the body he was using belonged to Ginny, and a first-year witch's magic wasn't particularly powerful. Achieving this much was already remarkable, especially considering that those dummies had magical protection.
"Let's try the Patronus Charm." After a moment's thought, Cyrus closed his eyes and began searching for memories he could call "happy."
He easily began recalling his previous life-
Although the grind of life seemed to have numbed his emotions after he reached adulthood, his childhood memories were still fairly pleasant.
Dense threads poured from the tip of his wand, like white velvet or the strands a silkworm spun for its cocoon.
"Not quite working-"
Perhaps the memories were too distant and had lost their clarity. Though the threads wove together in the air, they never took shape.
"Could it be that my emotions are too subdued?" Cyrus lowered his head in thought. A moment later, he decided to try again, this time speaking the incantation.
This time, he tried hard to recall his childhood, when he had no troubles or worries and dreamed of fairy tales, when the whole world had seemed clean and beautiful-
"Expecto Patronum!"
The magic pouring from the tip of his wand grew stronger!
The dense silver threads gathered into great masses, but still failed to take shape. Instead, they resembled a white cloud of mist, flickering between light and shadow.
Before long, the magic inside him-or rather, inside Ginny-was drained.
Cyrus had no choice but to stop practicing, put away his wand, and leave the Room of Requirement.
But the moment he rounded a corner, a harsh shout rang out beside him. "Stop!"
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