Ginny - no, Alexander - stood at the centre of the Chamber of Secrets, surrounded by the intricate pattern of Arithmantic symbols and rune circles. He held the diary in his hands, almost sentimental. Soon, he would truly be free.
On short notice Alexander had decided a week ago to alter the ritual. Now Ginny's soul would be imprisoned in the diary instead of just separating her soul's connection from her body, killing her. Maybe he could give her a new body in a few years, obliviate her and let her live?
It was mostly a meaningless act to sooth his guilty conscience. But still - better than killing her, wasn't it?
As for Hermione… there was no saving her. Not without something like a Tsimshian Soul Catcher and where on earth would he find one of those?
He looked at the rune circle drawn in blood for a last time. Every line was precise, each rune meticulously calculated, marking the stages of a ritual that would sever Ginny's soul from her body and replace it with his own. This was the culmination of Alexander's preparation.
The timing of the ritual was deliberate. Hallowe'en - the eve of Samhain - was steeped in power. It amplified soul magic and sacrificial magic, both crucial elements of his ritual. For Alexander, this day presented the ideal moment to sever his tether to the diary and fully claim Ginny's body as his own. Midnight would have been ideal, but time was not on his side.
In preparation for today, Alexander had anonymously sent a note to Lockhart, carefully crafted to appear as though it came from an adoring fan. The letter urged the so-called hero to rid the Forbidden Forest of a dangerous Acromantula colony. Alexander knew Lockhart well enough to predict the outcome: A theatrical display of empty bravado that would draw attention to the spiders without leading to any real action. That was precisely what Alexander needed - public awareness of the colony while ensuring no one actually culled it. His three Acromantulas, still safely under Stasis charms, would remain ready to serve as the perfect diversion.
As for the week leading up to this night, Alexander had chosen to wait, using the time to rest and conserve his strength. Each day in the diary, trapped in the limbo of the Horcrux, had been an exercise in relentless frustration.
He had known, instinctively, that he needed all of his power for this final act - so he had bided his time, letting Ginny go about her life while he rested in the shadows of her consciousness.
The longer he waited, the stronger his hold on her would become, reducing any resistance she might offer when the ritual began. By conserving his energy and suppressing her consciousness with all his strength, he ensured she wouldn't wake at the wrong moment and unknowingly disrupt his plans.
Everything needed to go perfectly.
If accidental magic disturbed the blood runes or if her soul struggled too much against being expelled, the entire ritual could fail. No, she had to be fully unconscious, with him entirely in control.
Then, there was Hermione's presence in Ginny's life. Alexander had been aware of the threat she posed, but there was no need to act prematurely. Hermione's presence in the library kept Ginny occupied and her growing suspicion was a manageable, temporary problem.
Besides, he needed a human sacrifice - a magical one of the same age and gender as Ginny. Hermione fit the criteria perfectly - one year age difference was no problem. Fortunately, Ginny hadn't confided in Hermione about the diary until Hallowe'en. If she had done so earlier, Alexander would have been forced to intervene and obliviate them both, using some of his carefully reserved energy.
Around him in the vast chamber, shadows flickered across the ancient serpent carvings, as if they were waiting, ominously watching. To his side was Hermione Granger, her body lying within a carefully drawn sub circle, her features soft and unaware. She was stunned and placed in exactly the right position for the ritual.
Taking a steadying breath, Alexander guided Ginny's hand to trace the edge of the moonstone he held. The stone was faintly cold, inscribed with runes written in Thestral blood that he'd collected from the Forbidden Forest. Its purpose was to hold Hermione's stolen soul energy just long enough for Alexander to sever Ginny's connection to her body and replace it with his own. The moonstone would absorb the soul energy, acting as a conduit to connect Alexander's soul to his future body. Inscribed with runes of binding and transference, it would allow him to channel the last of Hermione's soul energy into Ginny's body, fusing his soul to this new body.
He levitated the diary to its designated place within a sub-circle of runes.
Then Alexander moved Ginny's wand and with a flick, Ginny's and Hermione's robes flew away, vanishing to the edges of the chamber. The bodies, now naked, were free from any magical protections that might interfere with the ritual's delicate balance.
Alexander's eyes swept across the scene, his gaze lingering on each rune, each placement, ensuring everything was ready. There was no room for mistakes. Hermione's body was positioned just right, as was the diary, open and waiting and the moonstone lay beside her, its surface glimmering faintly.
He took a final breath and began the incantation, a steady chant in ancient Greek, echoing against the chamber walls. This was the language of Herpo the Foul, the original creator of the first dark rituals for soul magic. The magic was thrumming in the air, intertwining with the blood-drawn lines on the floor.
Hermione would be the first to die. Her life - innocent, pure and full of potential - was the necessary sacrifice. Only by killing her could Alexander use the damage caused by such a death to shatter Ginny's soul connection to her body and cast it into the diary, mirroring the process of Horcrux creation but twisting it to a new purpose. Alexander raised Ginny's wand and, after a moment's hesitation, pointed it at Hermione. He uttered the final words of the spell and her body gave one final shudder as her soul energy was drained, her soul connection to her body fading.
The moonstone flared to life, absorbing the energy.
The room grew colder as her body lay still, the faint light of her life now gone. This energy, transferred to the stone, was ready for the next stage.
Alexander's hand trembled as he turned his focus to Ginny's soul, still clinging to this body, barely aware of what was happening. With Hermione's sacrifice complete, he felt a surge of dark magic, the same kind that can create a Horcrux, coiling through his spell, waiting for him to use it to sever Ginny's soul from her body. He focused on the diary, his breath quickening as he directed the magic with a violent surge, tearing Ginny's essence away and forcing it into the open pages.
Ginny's body gasped, her mouth forming a silent scream as her soul was pulled into the diary. For an instant, Alexander could feel her panic, her desperate struggle against the dark pull, but it was futile. Her spirit was captured within the diary, just as his own had once been. He felt a twisted satisfaction - he had won.
The diary trembled, the cover heating in the designated sub circle, the ink bleeding as if the pages were under some unbearable strain. The lines between the ritual's magic and the physical world blurred and a sudden surge of energy coursed through the diary, its mundane binding unravelling under the magic's force.
"No…" Ginny's voice whispered, realizing the mistake too late. The diary was never intended to hold this much power and he'd forgotten, in his arrogance, that it was a Muggle item at its core. It began to splinter and crack, unable to contain the force of Ginny's whole soul, the magic devouring the fragile pages.
In a blinding flash, the diary burst into ashes, Ginny's essence scattering into the air, leaving Alexander alone in her body. He didn't have a concrete plan for the diary and Ginny's soul but he had hoped to figure out something if possible.
Well, no use in crying about spilled milk, as they say.
For a moment, the chamber was silent, save for the sound of his own breathing, shaky and raw. And then came the final step - the spell he had planned meticulously, a binding remorse that would root his soul to this body. "Fatum Sentiens." He could feel the force of the spell wrap around him, pulling at his core, dredging up emotions with a force he hadn't expected.
Crushing remorse flooded him, overwhelming and painful, bringing tears to his eyes unbidden. He looked down at Hermione's body, lifeless and cold and at the faint traces of Ginny's spirit that still clung to the chamber's air. The magnitude of what he'd done hit him all at once and he collapsed to his knees, Ginny's body trembling as sobs tore through her, though the mind within was still his own.
"I'm sorry! Please forgive me…"
Naked, alone and consumed by guilt, Alexander - no, Ginny - felt the weight of two lives snuffed out for his own selfish gain. He hunched over Hermione's body, weeping as the chamber swallowed his cries, the serpents in the stone watching without judgment, as they always had.
With the last of his willpower, she channelled her magic into the runes below, activating them. Immediately, the soul energy - originally Hermione's - surged from the moonstone into her body, binding her soul, body and magic together. Though this was the culmination of so much work and preparation, she could barely focus on it, overwhelmed by the agony and guilt her selfish actions had wrought.
Two innocent young girls had lost their lives, all so she could possess the body of one of them.
Lying curled in a foetal position on the cold stone floor, Ginny felt like a newborn. The effects of Fatum Sentiens still clung to her, leaving waves of intense emotion roiling within her. She couldn't tell how long she lay there, naked and trembling, as the grief and confusion settled into a strange, almost surreal clarity.
Slowly, her body stirred and as she pulled herself upright, she felt an odd sense of both exhilaration and finality.
"Alexander Ashworth is gone," she declared to the empty Chamber. "Dead and reborn… as Ginevra Molly Weasley."
This was her body now, hers to inhabit and wield in freedom. The laugh that bubbled up was shaky, almost hysterical, and she clamped a hand over her mouth, her own voice sounding alien and somehow right all at once.
She shifted her weight, trying to feel each sensation of this body, as if savouring it for the first time - her heartbeat, her breath, the strange, exhilarating tension in her limbs. Ginny's body felt delicate and real, fragile but alive. The strange collision of joy and loss left her laughing and crying in turns, a tangled mess of emotions she hadn't let herself experience before.
Eventually, the storm of feelings ebbed. Her breath steadied and as her heartbeat slowed, her mind sharpened, settling back into the plan she had so meticulously prepared. She glanced around the Chamber of Secrets and reminded herself of the next steps.
Her gaze fell to the pile of discarded clothing nearby. Steeling herself, she dressed, pulling Ginny's robes back over her body with practiced efficiency. Her hands were steady now, her resolve clearer. She turned to Hermione's lifeless form, the girl's features still soft, almost peaceful.
With a flick of her hand, Ginny summoned her wand effortlessly, feeling a rush of satisfaction as it settled into her palm. She waved it over Hermione's still form, summoning Hermione's robes back onto her body. The sight was almost too peaceful, but that momentary softness disappeared as Ginny steeled herself for the next step.
Her gaze shifted to the Acromantulas, cancelling die Statis charm.
She raised her wand again, voice cold and unwavering and whispered the words of the Imperius curse, feeling a rush of control as it seeped into their minds, bending them to her will. The creatures' eyes dulled, obediently awaiting her command. With a flick of her wand, the cage doors sprang open and she directed them to approach Hermione's body.
What happened next was bloody and brutal. The Acromantulas tore at Hermione's corpse with mechanical precision, rending flesh and bone in three grotesque, distinct pieces. Blood spattered across the Chamber floor, pooling in the cracks of the ancient stonework. Ginny watched, unblinking, as the violence unfolded before her.
The horror of it didn't touch her. Instead, she felt only a grim satisfaction, her mind already several steps ahead, calculating and assessing.
As the last of Hermione's remains fell limp and separated on the ground, Ginny allowed herself a single sigh of relief. She was grateful the ancient wards of Hogwarts didn't extend to the Chamber of Secrets. The headmaster would be unaware of Hermione's death - for now. But the moment Hermione's remains left the Chamber, though one of the hidden paths, the wards would alert the staff, triggering alarms and questions she couldn't dodge.
With a cold determination, Ginny turned her attention back to the details of her plan.
Ginny enacted a delayed command on the three Acromantulas. In exactly fifteen minutes, the spiders would carry Hermione's remains to the Forbidden Forest, starting near Hagrid's hut before retreating deeper into the woods. There, they would use their natural venom, which had a magical disintegrative quality and consume the flesh, leaving only bones behind.
While magical means could still identify her remains, the bare bones would offer no clue as to the events that had unfolded in the Chamber of Secrets. This plan gave Ginny a narrow window of opportunity to find witnesses in a populated area and secure her alibi.
There was one hour left till the feast would begin.
Under the cover of evening, she made her way back to Gryffindor Tower, keeping herself invisible until she neared the portrait of the Fat Lady. In a deserted hidden corridor with no portraits to witness her, Ginny made herself visible again. Silently, she slipped into the common room, seating herself on a couch near the twins, who were engrossed in one of their pranking schemes. She watched them, letting a brief smile play on her lips, savouring the contrast between their light-heartedness and her dark, silent victory.
Fred was the first to notice her presence, almost dropping a jar of fireworks in surprise. "Blimey, Ginny! Nearly scared the Snitch out of me," he exclaimed.
"Yeah, thought you were a ghost," George added, grinning.
Ginny chuckled, enjoying their reaction. "Maybe I've just been practicing my sneaking skills. You never know when they might come in handy."
"Midnight mischief, huh?" Fred teased, eyebrows waggling.
Ginny smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Oh, come on, Gin," George nudged, "You can't keep secrets from Gryffindor's resident prank masters."
Ginny leaned in, lowering her voice playfully, "Alright, but only because you two are the experts. Let's just say it involves a certain someone's broom and a lot of enchanted confetti."
The twins exchanged looks of wicked delight. "We're in," they chorused, already brimming with ideas on how to bring her plan to life.
Suddenly, a flash of silvery light darted across the Gryffindor common room, drawing the attention of every student present. Eyes widened as a shimmering phoenix Patronus swept through the air, gliding silently toward Professor McGonagall, who had been seated by the fire, her sharp eyes quietly observing the students as she sometimes did. McGonagall flicked her wand with practiced precision. The uncharacteristically solemn voice of Dumbledore, emanating from the Patronus, was instantly silenced.
A hushed murmur spread through the room, rippling among the Gryffindors. Some of the younger ones, wide-eyed and anxious, began speculating nervously what kind of magic the ethereal creature was, while the older recognized the Patronus and that Dumbledore must have sent Professor McGonagall an urgent message.
Everyone in the room fell quiet as they watched the usually unflappable Professor McGonagall's face pale noticeably, her usual stoic composure slipping for the briefest of moments. She appeared more shocked and grimmer, than any of them had ever seen her before. For a fleeting second, it seemed as though the weight of whatever news had come through the Patronus had settled heavily on her shoulders. But then, with a deep breath, McGonagall regained her composure. She released the magic sound bubble she had created to silence the Patronus and addressed the students in a voice that was sharp but undeniably shaken.
"Emergency measures are now in place," she said, her tone carrying the authority she was known for, though there was a slight tremor beneath it. "No one is to leave the common room until further notice. Teachers will locate any missing students and send them directly back to their dormitories. Prefects, you are responsible for ensuring that no one leaves this room."
A third-year student, who had been fidgeting nervously, raised a tentative hand. "Professor… was there… an attack? Maybe an Acromantula like Professor Lockhart warned us about?"
McGonagall's gaze softened for a brief moment, her eyes flickering with an emotion the students had rarely seen from her - sorrow, perhaps even regret. "There has indeed been an attack, Mr. Thomson," she confirmed, her voice thick with emotion.
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. "You will all be informed when the time is right. For now, please stay here." Her expression hardened again, and she turned to leave, clearly unsettled by the news she had just received.
Feigning sudden panic, Ginny pushed her way to the front, eyes wide. "Professor, Ron, Harry and Hermione - they're not here! Do you know where they are? Are they alright?"
McGonagall paused, hesitating before responding in a measured tone. "We know where your brother is, Miss Weasley. Rest assured, he is safe." She gave a curt nod and swiftly exited the room.
As Ginny watched her leave, she fought back a smirk. McGonagall's hesitation told her she'd struck the right note, blending concern with just enough innocence to make her deception believable. But the main point was that she would remember Ginny being in the common room, when the wards registered Hermione's death.
For the rest of the evening, students trickled into the common room, escorted by prefects or professors, filling the space with nervous chatter. As each face appeared, Ginny waited, projecting a look of apprehension that masked her thoughts perfectly. When no sign of Hermione, Harry or Ron emerged, she simply clenched her fists. She knew exactly where Hermione was - buried in the depths of the Forbidden Forest.
As for Harry and Ron, she felt confident they were safe - not that it mattered. After all, her Imperius Curse on the Acromantulas guaranteed they wouldn't attack anyone else on the grounds.
Finally, back in the quiet of the girls' dormitory, Ginny drew her bed curtains and took a moment to steady herself. Her roommates had drifted off, still unsettled, but Ginny had eased their worries with well-placed reassurances. Now, alone in her bed, she allowed herself a brief moment of curiosity.
She reached into her trunk, feeling for the hidden compartment beneath her things where she kept the Marauder's Map. The original Ginny would have never found it. She spread the map out on her bed, muttering the password under her breath. Instantly, the lines of Hogwarts unfolded before her, each familiar name lighting up across the parchment.
Immediately, her eyes scanned the map, searching for any signs of Ron or Harry. She found Ron and her parents quickly, their names - Arthur Weasley, Molly Weasley and Ronald Weasley - marked clearly near the Infirmary, with Harry Potter's name close by. Interesting.
But her attention snagged on two other names: Alastor Moody and Rufus Scrimgeour, lingering on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Alexander's memories reminded her exactly who they were - the famously paranoid Auror with the strange magical eye and the head of the Auror Office, who would become Minister of Magic. They were obviously conducting a search, but she knew they would find nothing beyond Hermione's bones. There would be no trace of the ritual, no clues tying her to Hermione's death.
A slight frown tugged at her lips. She hadn't expected Dumbledore to allow the Aurors onto school grounds. Clearly, he'd felt compelled to bring in the Ministry. And Moody's presence could complicate things. His magical eye saw too much.
She resolved to stay cautious, keeping her distance from anywhere the Aurors might be. No more reckless moves, at least until the dust settled. No visits to the Chamber of Secrets, the Room of Requirement or the forest for a while.
Ginny sighed inwardly, stifling the pang of inconvenience. A small price to pay to avoid suspicion.