SIYE Time:1:50 on 24th July 2021

The Phantom of Hogwarts
By Mojomig

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Category: Alternate Universe
Genres: Drama, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 21
Summary: A tale inspired by the Phantom of the Opera, starring Ginny Weasley and the Angel of Magic.
Hitcount: Story Total: 3860

Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.

Author's Notes:
A thousand thank yous to Kevin, who not only does a great job of beta-ing, but also for his entusiasm for this story, which really motivated me to write faster.

This story was inspired by the amazing Phantom of the Opera musical, the music of which is constantly humming around inside my head. It's story is just perfect for adaptation to our two favourite heroes.


Godric's Hollow, 31st October 1981

"Keep him safe. Keep him safe. Keep him safe…"

Lily Potter chanted the same three words over and over; knowing it was only moments before Voldemort would come crashing through the door into Harry's nursery.

"Keep him safe. Keep him safe. Keep him safe…"

Lily's hands glowed as the ancient magic deep inside her transferred its protection onto her tiny child. Just as she set the crying baby it his crib, the door crashed open and the terrifying visage of Lord Voldemort filled the doorway. All too soon, Lily joined her husband in death and the Dark Lord was unchallenged as he turned his wand to the screaming child.

"Avada Kedavra!" cried out Voldemort. The jet of sickly green light raced from his wand and struck the boy in the forehead. There was no time for Voldemort to react as the light amazingly bounced back from a glowing white force that shielded baby Harry at the last moment. The beam struck Voldemort in the chest and he fell back. Back into oblivion, a lost spirit carried by the wind.

Barely a few moments later, the enormous hands of Rubeus Hagrid began searching through the remains of the Potters' little cottage. Tears ran down his hairy cheeks as he uncovered bodies. First, he found that of James Potter at the bottom of the stairs, next, he found that of Lily by the side of an empty crib. There was no sign of baby Harry Potter, leaving the half-giant deeply saddened and the waiting Dumbledore extremely concerned.


In the depths of Hogwarts, a young female house elf, called Koki, was poking around in an unused group of chambers, looking for something to clean. Hearing what sounded like the crying of a human child, she looked inside the bottom drawer of an old chest. Koki gasped in surprise as she opened the drawer to reveal a baby. This was not just any baby. This was a wizard; Koki could feel the potential power in this boy. A boy with messy black hair, startling green eyes and a bloody cut, in a lightning bolt shape, which ran from his forehead above the right eye, down to his right cheek.

Having been drawn to the boy's wails, Koki found herself inexplicably compelled to care for the infant. She tended to his cut face, healing the wound and leaving only a scar, which no manner of magic would ever remove. Next, she conjured a white mask that would cover the right side of his face. Finally, she provided milk and food for the young child and nursed him till he fell asleep.

While the babe slept, Koki the house-elf transformed the group of chambers, deep under the castle, into a home for the boy. And so, under the care and tutelage of the elf, the baby grew up in the bowels of Hogwarts Castle, soaking up the innate magic of the stone itself. All the while, his white mask grew with him. The boy was taught by Koki never to remove the mask, for underneath his face was monstrously scarred. Harsh words for a young child to hear, but words that went unchallenged nonetheless and interpreted literally. The enigmatic child grew up believing that he wore a mask because he bore the face of a monster.

By the age of six, the boy had learned every secret of Hogwarts. The ghosts all feared the strange child, and called him 'The Phantom'. Augmented by the magic of the castle, he was agile, strong and powerful. Unbelievably for a child of this age, he had full control of his magic, which he could apply without a wand. It was not the spells and incantations of conventional wizards and witches, but a natural, raw magic, which gained power from the very essence of the castle. By eleven, his physical and magical development were years ahead of his tender age.

Occasionally, students caught glimpses of the mysterious boy, as he roamed the halls and corridors of the castle. But each time someone thought they saw a flash of a white face, it would disappear back into shadows. These infrequent sightings become rumours, rumours became myths and within a short space of a few years, there was a new Hogwarts legend.


The Burrow, 1989, Christmas

An eight year old Ginny Weasley lay in her bed. She had just been told her favourite story by her father for the one hundredth time. The story was of an angel, the Angel of Magic, who appeared as a beautiful young man with jet black hair and emerald green eyes. The Angel of Magic was kind and looked after all the young wizards and witches of the world, having defeated a great evil in his past. As usual, the youngest Weasley dreamed of her angel, wondering if somehow, he could possibly be real.

Downstairs, Charlie Weasley was regaling his family with the story of the Hogwarts Phantom, of how his friend Patrick had seen two first years about to fall because of the moving staircases and how a ghostly boy with a half-white face had appeared and stopped the staircase from moving and…


Hogwarts, Early 1991

Fred and George Weasley searched frantically for somewhere to hide. They weren't supposed to be in this corridor at all, ignoring the fact it was after two in the morning. As Argus Filch and Mrs. Norris appeared at the far end of the corridor, the twins dived as quietly as they could into an empty cupboard.

"Yes my sweet. You can smell 'em can't ya," said Filch to his cat, "Might as well come out boys. I'm going to find you…"

The boys listened at the cupboard door as the caretaker's footsteps and wheezy breathing got nearer and nearer. Just as the handle of the cupboard began its slow, creaking turn, there was a sudden yowl from Mrs. Norris, followed by a hissing and spitting and a curse from Filch, whose footsteps stomped away from the cupboard and out of earshot.

Fred and George open the door a crack and peered out. Filch was nowhere to be seen or heard, so they crept out of their impromptu hiding place. Scanning the corridor, the boys saw nothing, except for the tiniest flash of what could have been a white face, at the far end of the corridor, where the shadows were darkest.


Hogwarts, June 1992

"It's you that has to go on, Hermione, not me, not Neville, You." Ron groaned in pain where he had hurt back and side, falling from the stone horse. Hermione looked back at her friends, one last time, before scurrying over to the door to the next room.

It was a small chamber, in which Hermione found a table with seven bottles of potion in a row and a small piece of parchment. As the door swung shut behind her, flames blazed, guarding both the door behind and the door leading onward. Just as she was about to pick up the parchment, a firm grip on her wrist stopped her. Hermione turned to look at whoever was in the chamber with her, and gasped in shock when she looked up into a white mask.

"Go back, Hermione. Go back and help your friend. This is not your fight."

The voice was young, thought Hermione, but held much power. Glancing up and down, she saw the man was about a foot taller than her, and dressed only in black, save for the stunning white mask, over half his face. From the part of his face that was uncovered, Hermione guessed the man to be perhaps only a boy, maybe a few years older than her at most.

"Who are you?" The mesmerized girl blurted out.

"Go back!"

With a flourish of his cloak, the masked boy vanished silently. Hermione debated inwardly. He had said to go back, but what if that meant Voldemort got the Philosopher's Stone? She turned back to the table of potions and the parchment, but found only one bottle remaining. The potion for safe passage back the way she had come.

Meanwhile, in the final chamber, Professor Quirrell raged at the mirror and didn’t notice someone appear behind him.

"Use the boy!" called an unearthly voice.

"What boy, master?" replied Quirrell. He looked around and saw the Phantom of Hogwarts. The Defence Professor looked shocked but quickly regained his composure.

"COME HERE BOY!" Quirrell ordered, sending some magic towards the masked figure.

"As you wish," came the response. In the blink of an eye, the black-clothed boy launched himself at the possessed teacher. After much scuffling, screaming, and pain on both sides, the Phantom of Hogwarts prevailed and the body of Quirinus Quirrell disintegrated into ash and dust. The spirit of Voldemort released into the air and it whooshed theatrically around the burning chamber, before disappearing down a passageway.

Hearing voices coming from the potions test chamber, the Phantom swirled his cloak around his wounded body and vanished from the spot, just as Dumbledore burst into the room.

Several hours later, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were sitting nervously in Professor Dumbledore's office.

"…And so we shall probably never fully know what transpired in the final chamber. We must satisfy ourselves in the knowledge that the Philosopher's Stone was saved from Voldemort's clutches."

"But Professor, what about…" interjected Hermione.

"Yes, yes Miss Granger, I have no doubt that you believe what you saw. I have heard the rumours about the Phantom of Hogwarts, but I have never, and nor do I intend to, investigate those rumours. He seems only to act in the best interests of the school, so I see little value in upsetting the status quo."

At this point, Ron's stomach decided to make its feelings known.

"Well said Mr Weasley," continued the Headmaster, "I believe it is time for the leaving feast."


The Burrow, 30th August 1992

Despite her excitement at going to Hogwarts the next day, Ginny Weasley found sleep easy to come by. Her dreams were full of wonderful, magical things, but most of all, they were full of the Angel. The Angel of Magic swept through her mind's subconscious wanderings leaving peace and happiness in his wake. Dream Ginny was enchanted by the emerald eyes and dazzling smile of her Angel.


Hundreds of miles away, to the north, in the depths of a large castle, a twelve year old boy dreamt of a beautiful red-headed girl. A girl with fiery spirit, blazing passion and explosive magical power. He also dreamt of his mother. A beautiful red-headed woman with fiery spirit, blazing passion and explosive magical power.


Hogwarts, 1st September 1992

It was a rainy, grey day that brought Ginny Weasley to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Everything was even more magical than her parents and brothers had described. From the moment she saw the castle, to right now as she shuffled up through the Great Hall with the other first years, everything had been enchanting.

"Do you feel it?" she whispered to a blonde haired boy, who had big eyes and camera round his neck.

"Feel what?" he whispered back.

"The magic, its presence is almost tangible, as if it's watching us, sensing and testing us…"

Colin Creevey, however, didn't have a chance to answer, for he was called forth by the stern voice of Professor McGonagall, to have his turn under the Sorting Hat.

Ginny waited patiently, knowing she would be one of the last. All the while lapping up that magical sensation she assumed was happening to everyone. Many feet up, hidden in the shadows of the rafters and the magic of the ceiling, someone was watching her, sensing her magic. The Phantom of Hogwarts was entranced by the girl from his dreams. The girl who resembled his mother in so many ways it was unsettling. Perched on a thick wooden beam, the Hogwarts legend watched as Weasley, Ginevra was sorted into Gryffindor and rushed towards the congratulatory cheers of her new house. Images of last night's dream mixed with his current vision. Pictures of his mother, this girl and the scene below intermingled seamlessly until his head spun.

No-one in the Great Hall had seen the half white face watching from the darkness above. Consequently, no-one noticed when he stood up on the rafter on which he had been sitting, about a hundred feet above the feast-laden tables, jumped off, but instead of careening into the throng of students and food below, he disappeared after only a few yards, reappearing in the first year Gryffindor girls' dormitory.


For the first few nights after Ginny started at Hogwarts, she slept peacefully, dreaming inconsequential happy things, waking each day more refreshed than ever before. On the fourth night, she dreamed of her angel. The Angel of Magic. And he taught her.

Ginny stood on the top of the tallest tower, looking up into the clear starry sky. It was warm, she noticed, despite the late hour, and yet not stiflingly so. Across the open space of the tower stood the Angel. He was dressed only in black, save for a crisp white mask that covered half his face. His mouth shaped into a calming, peaceful smile and his voice, soft like summer rain, called out to her.

"Come Ginevra. It is time for your first lesson."

Ginny crossed the tower to where he stood and looked up into his emerald eyes, eyes that shone in the starlit night with power and protectiveness. In his presence she would always be safe.

"Teach me, my Angel," whispered Ginny.

The Angel guided Ginny down on to her knees and knelt before her. "Close your eyes." His voice was barely a whisper, but carried to her ears with perfect clarity. "Listen to my voice. Let me guide you. Don't be frightened."

Ginny looked into his half covered face one last time before closing her eyes.

"Feel yourself breathing. Feel your heart beating. Feel the blood pulsing round your body. Just allow yourself to feel." After a pause, the Angel continued. "Feel for something else. A tingle. A throbbing. It's there, beneath everything else. A spark of fire, a desperate desire to escape. Do you feel it Ginevra? Do you feel it?"

Breathless from the sensations she was experiencing, Ginny forced out an answer.


"Good. Good. Take that feeling, embrace it, grasp it, bring it to the front of your mind. Float on its currents. Swim in its flow. Let yourself be pulled along by its thrall."

Ginny listened to the mesmerizing voice and complied with its commands. She felt light-headed and dizzy, but at the same time exhilarated by this feeling that coursed through her, stimulating every nerve and leaving it tingling.

After what felt like hours, the hypnotic voice of the Angel brought Ginny back down to earth.

"Wow! That was amazing," the young girl raved, beaming up at the soft face looking at her.

"Calm yourself, Ginevra. This is only the first step. Tonight, I have taught you to feel magic. The magic within yourself. Now, for the remainder of the night, you must rest."

As dawn broke, the first rays of sunshine burst through a gap in her curtains and on to her freckled face. As Ginny stretched out, she did not hear the whisper that was spoken from the rafters, many feet above.

"Feel it, Ginevra. Feel your magic."

Nor did she see the cloaked figure sat there, who had sat there throughout the night, and every night since she arrived.


It took a few weeks before Ginny started to notice. She had dreams about the Angel most nights, and mainly these were ordinary jumbled dreams, from which she woke feeling peaceful and refreshed. However, every third or fourth night, the dreams were vivid, like that first dream about the tower. These dreams were always lessons, lessons about magic. Not a subject, like those lessons taught in the school, but simply lessons about magic. How to feel it, sense it, use it. The Angel would teach her what he called His magic. The magic of the castle.

But what Ginny noticed, apart from the pattern of her dreams, was that what the Angel showed her in their 'lessons', stayed with her when she woke. She could feel the magic of the castle, always it was there, in the background, like a gentle humming. She felt a jolt of adrenaline each time she cast a spell, as the magic built up inside her and was channelled out through her wand. Ginny Weasley started to believe that the Angel of Magic was real about the same time she began writing in Tom Riddle's diary.


As Ginny Weasley gradually fell under the spell of the charming Tom Riddle, the Phantom spent almost every night watching over the troubled girl. Thanks only to the calming influence he could impart on her sleep allowed her to manage to maintain her outward appearance as one of the school's brightest performers. Eventually, time took it toll and the young girl slowly withdrew from those around her, becoming reclusive and seeking solitude whenever possible.

The Phantom always followed when the possession caused Ginny to perform unspeakable acts, to ensure her physical safety at least. Although he could link into her sleeping mind, at these times she was awake, simply under a dark spell that even the natural magic of the Angel could not break.

Although Ginny didn't remember the acts she committed, she felt the guilt of them. It weighed heavy on her young shoulders. At these troubling times, the Phantom guarded her throughout the night, filling her mind with happy and calming images. He did not administer any more 'lessons' for fear that she would ask him to teach her that which he could not, how to reject the possessing force that was Tom Riddle. Guilt and sadness ripped at the Phantom, because he could not fully protect his beloved Ginevra.

Heroically, and with true Gryffindor spirit, Ginny fought the diary and managed to throw it away, but somehow the magical book found its way back to the helpless girl and took an even stronger hold. Finally, towards the end of the school year, totally overcome by the diary's evil, Ginny succumbed and was taken into the Chamber of Secrets.

While the school frantically tried to decide what to do, the Phantom paused only to take the sword of Gryffindor from the headmaster's office, while Dumbledore was downstairs trying to calm the student body. The Phantom knew of the Chamber of Secrets — he new every secret in the castle — but he had rarely entered, due to the sense of evil dwelling there.

Appearing near the entrance, he immediately saw her lying on the wet stone further on into the chamber and rushed to her side. As the Phantom knelt in the puddles by the cold body of his pupil, he was vaguely aware of a presence approaching.

"She won't wake," came a confident, charming voice…


Some time later, Ginny awoke from her coma, to find her Angel crouched at her side.

"Welcome back, Ginevra," His soft, soothing voice calming her terrified thoughts.

"Where is he? What happened? Are you real? Am I dreaming?" Questions tumbled from Ginny's mouth, so desperate was she for understanding.

"What do you remember, Ginevra?"

"I remember painting the message, and then I opened the chamber and came down here. Tom appeared from the diary and spoke to me. He told me that as I died he grew stronger. Then I woke up looking at you."

"Be assured that you are safe now. Tom is gone and his monster defeated."

Ginny turned to look around the chamber and saw the body of the giant basilisk, blood dripping from its mouth. Turning back to her Angel, she asked again.

"Am I dreaming?"

"No Ginevra, this is no dream."

"So you are real? All those times I saw you in my dreams, the lessons."

The Angel took her hand and placed it on her heart, covering it with is own.

"As long as you believe in me, in you heart, then I am real. I'll always be watching over you, my beloved Ginevra."

The words washed over the exhausted girl like waves washing over sand. Their eyes locked, chocolate brown and emerald green. The wave of calm that flowed from the Angel's very core quickly spread throughout the school. The frantic, panicked searching for the chamber entrance ceased. Molly Weasley, who was waiting in the headmaster's office stopped sobbing and felt relieved without knowing why.

"Come Ginevra, we must return. The fools who run this school will be missing you."

The Angel stood and pulled Ginny to her feet. Her body, however, was not ready and she fainted into the strong boy's arms, with two words escaping her lips.

"My Angel."


Hogwarts, September 1993

Following the traumatic events at the end of the previous school year, life settled back into somewhat of a routine for Ginny Weasley when September came round. She was extremely disturbed by the actions she had taken while under the influence of Tom Riddle and was quiet and withdrawn over the summer holidays. She dreamed almost every night, but images of her Angel were sporadic while the poisonous charm of Tom appeared regularly.

Now though, back at school, Ginny Weasley came back under the watchful protection of her Angel. Sleep came easily and was peaceful and refreshing. Now free from the distractions of the year before, the Angel of Magic began to visit her dreams more frequently than ever before, teaching his natural castle magic to her as she slept.

By the end of Ginny's second year, she was the top student in her year in all the wand based disciplines: transfiguration, charms and defence. She would use her growing awareness and sense of magic to augment her spell casting, giving extra power and control. Although she used the wand movements and said the incantations, by the of the spring term, she was actually casting spells wandlessly, the piece of wood in her hand present by mere coincidence, rather than need.

Eventually, the experienced eyes of Professor McGonagall noticed. Without the need for correct movement or incantation, Ginny's subconscious became lazy. Although it was very slight, an experienced teacher, like Minerva McGonagall, could tell something wasn't right. How could this student achieve the best results in the class without the absolutely exact wand movements?

"Miss Weasley, might I have a word with you?" Professor McGonagall called as the second year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs packed their bags at the end of a class in the final weeks of the year. Ginny approached her head of house nervously, unsure what she might have done. As she arrived at the front, the old teacher gestured to one of the front seats, and then came around to perch on the edge of her desk, in front of Ginny.

"Miss Weasley, you are by far and away the most competent student in your year when it comes to practical spell work. However, what puzzles me is that you achieve these results without the proper application of wand movement or incantation."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I mean to do it like you show us but…"

"Now now, child, calm yourself," interrupted the Professor. "I am not telling you off, merely curious as to how you can achieve such things."

"I don't know Professor. I just do it the way I've been taught by..." she cut herself off quite abruptly.

"By whom, Miss Weasley?" probed McGonagall.

"No-one Professor. I mean…I just do what feels…natural."

"Hmmm, I see. Well, however you do it, it seems to work. Now off to dinner with you."

Relieved, Ginny Weasley scurried out of the classroom and headed towards the Great hall, leaving her Head of House deep in thought. The final days of the school year flittered away, much as the others had done, and Ginny Weasley returned home to the Burrow a much happier and stronger young girl.


Hogwarts, the arrival of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, 1994

Since the beginning of Ginny's third year, the entire school had been abuzz with talk of the Triwizard Tournament that Dumbledore had talked of at the opening feast. After several weeks of waiting, the delegations were due to arrive from the other schools, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Ginny was a mixture of excitement and anxiety, just like many of the other students. The first weeks of the school year had continued much like the end of the last, although she had had no night-time visits from her Angel.

After the visiting students had arrived, shown off, and settled down amongst the four Hogwarts houses, Dumbledore began to speak about the tournament. Ginny listened avidly to the old headmaster's words.

"…We have decided to remain with tradition and impose no age limit on entrants, although I should warn all of you that the tasks will be difficult, dangerous and would certainly test many fully trained witches or wizards." Dumbledore paused as the hubbub of chatter died down. "For the first time in history, we have decided that for each school, one champion and one reserve will be selected…"

After Dumbledore finished speaking, and the Goblet of Fire was brought forth by Filch and set in place, the excited students slowly made their way back to their house common rooms.

It seemed like no time later that the entire school and its guests were once more gathered in the Great Hall, for the naming of the champions. First the Durmstrang representatives were named, Viktor Krum and Vlad something or other. Next, the Beauxbatons champion was selected: Fleur Delacour, supported by Christine Jambleau. Finally, the Hogwarts selections would be made. It had been many years since the entire student populace had been so silent. After several tense moments, the Goblet of Fire spat out the first name.

"Cho Chang!" Dumbledore's voice rang out. After the cacophony of cheering, clapping, screaming and booing died down, all eyes turned to the Goblet once more. Maybe ten or twelve seconds later, a second piece of charred parchment flew up out of the magic flame into Dumbledore's hand.

"And the Hogwarts reserve shall be…" The old man paused, partly for effect, but mainly to hide his own shock. "Ginevra Weasley."

To say she was stunned would have been an understatement as she adamantly claimed not to have entered her name. But, according to Mr. Crouch, she had no choice. The Goblet had selected her and a binding magical contract was now in place.

Watching from the shadows, there was one person who was not surprised to hear her name called, for he was the one that entered it.


Hogwarts, the first task

Finally the day of the first task dawned, with a bright blue sky and a warm sun. The champions and reserves gathered in the waiting-marquee, along with the contingent of teachers, head teachers and officials.

"Now then champions!" called out Ludo Bagman. "Welcome to the first task. You'll all be excited to hear that the first test we've got for you is dragons."

As soon as Bagman had finished explaining the task, Cho Chang literally exploded.

"You expect me to do what? You've got to be kidding. There's no way I'm going to risk this face just for this stupid tournament. Professor Dumbledore, I won't do it."

And with her diatribe finished, Cho Chang turned on her heel and marched out of the tent, back towards the school.

"It seems like your reserve will have to fill in, Albus," said Bagman, still amused by Cho Chang's performance.

"Yes, Ludo, it seems we have little choice. Miss Weasley?"

"Yes, Professor?" responded Ginny, who was now extremely nervous.

"Are you sure you are up to this?"

"I think so, Professor."

"Really, Headmaster. Surely you are not going to allow this…child…to attempt to steal an egg from a dragon?" interjected Professor Snape, who was hanging around as usual.

"I am concerned. However, I'm not sure we have a choice. What do you think, Professor McGonagall?"

"Let her represent her school Albus," responded the austere teacher. "She has been well taught." Ginny looked at her head of house in surprise, and received a knowing look in response.


Barely two hours later, it was all over. Ginny had aced the task by using the calming, natural magic that her Angel had taught her and lulled the dragon into sleep. Virtually everyone had returned to the castle, leaving Ginny and her friend Hermione alone in the champion's tent.

"That was incredible Ginny," gushed Hermione. "Where did you learn to do magic like that? They don't teach those kinds of spells in my classes"

"Can you keep a secret Hermione?"

"Of course I can, Ginny."

"When I was little, my parents used to tell me the story of an angel, the Angel of Magic. He is strong and kind and he cares for all the magical children in the world, having saved them all from a great evil."

"I've never heard that story before."

"It's an old folk tale, handed down in the Weasley family. I used to dream of the Angel, normal dreams that you can't remember but you know what they were about. Then I came to Hogwarts, and everything changed."

Ginny told Hermione about the dream lessons, how he taught her in her sleep. How she could always feel when he was close, because she felt safe. How she could sense the magic of the castle, the rush she felt when casting spells.

"Ginny, you’re talking in riddles. None of this makes any sense."

"He's with me now. I can feel him."

"Wait here. I'm going to find your parents." The bushy haired girl rushed out of the tent, and no doubt headed up to the castle.

Ginny sat alone on one of the fold-up chairs that had littered the marquee. As she sat, with her head in her hands, Ginny did not hear the tentative footsteps of someone approaching her.

"Ginny?" called a voice she barely recognised.

Looking up, Ginny saw a boy in Ravenclaw robes, nervously looking at his own feet. "Do I know you?" Ginny asked.

"My name's Michael Corner. I wanted to say…I mean…You were really good out there today. And I think…" The poor boy stumbled through his words. Ginny smiled at him, encouragingly. "I think you're really pretty."

"Thank you, Michael," Ginny responded, hoping this wasn't going somewhere else.

"I wondered if you might come to Hogsmeade with me, sometime, um…next time?"

Ginny suddenly shivered as she felt the temperature in the tent drop a few degrees. The sided of the marquee rustled in a wind that had not blown before now.

"I'm not sure," she began. The door flapped noisily as the breeze picked up and whipped it back on itself. "Let me think about it. OK. Look, you'd better go, my parents are coming."

As Michael Corner trudged disappointed out of the tent, Ginny was startled by a whispered "Ginevra!" from just behind her. She gasped in shock as she turned and saw the masked face of the Angel of Magic.


"Come, my beloved Ginevra, come with me into the sanctity of the castle. I will shelter you from the insolent fools who want to share in your glory and from overprotective adults who will wrap you in cotton wool. Come with me. Follow your heart, feel my magic, let my words calm you, let my arms warm you …sense… feel…come…"

As she fell into a trance, the Angel scooped her into his arms and they both disappeared. A fraction of a second later, Hermione, Mr and Mrs Weasley and Professor McGonagall burst into the marquee.

"Ginny?" called Hermione.

"GINNY?" shouted Molly. Worried, she turned to Professor McGonagall. "Where is she Minerva? Where is my daughter?"


Ginny Weasley did not reappear for dinner that evening, or even for breakfast the following day. Deep in the bowels of the castle, the emotionally exhausted young girl slept, watched over by the Phantom of Hogwarts. Some time on the second day, Ginny awoke to find herself in a large, plush four poster bed with luxurious red covers. The room was dim, lit only by two burning torches. As she stirred in the bed, the familiar face of her Angel appeared in a doorway she hadn't noticed yet.

His soothing voice floated across the chamber and encouraged her to rise and make use of the luxurious bathroom that joined the bed-chamber. When she returned, Ginny found clothes on the bed, clean clothes from her own dormitory. Surprised, but accepting, she dressed and walked tentatively through the doorway in which the Angel had appeared.

The pair spent the next few hours talking. The Angel confessed to Ginny that he was captivated by her beauty when he first dreamed of her. When she arrived at Hogwarts, he chose to protect, guide and teach her. She wanted to see behind his mask but he refused. She explained that she now had a life debt to him, because of what transpired in the Chamber of Secrets and would do anything he asked of her. Ginny also proclaimed her love for him, that despite her young age, she new she could never love another. Apart from his white mask, he was identical to the Angel of Magic from the stories her dad used to tell and so she named him, her Angel of Magic.

Talking turned into teaching. Teaching turned into trying. Trying led to tiredness, which in turn led to sleep. Once more, Ginny slept in the Angel's lavish bed, while he stood guard, protecting her sleeping mind from unwanted nightmares.

On the third morning after the first task, Professor Dumbledore's office was full of highly emotional people. Arthur and Molly Weasley were demanding that Ginny be found and subsequently withdrawn from the Triwizard Tournament. Severus Snape was present, making annoying comments at appropriate points about the stupidity of Gryffindors. Cho Chang, after seeing the rapturous applause Ginny had received when she completed the task was demanding that she retake her place has Hogwarts champion. Tiny Professor Flitwick, in support of Miss Chang, could hardly make himself heard.

Suddenly, a loud bang from the doorway grabbed everyone's attention. Professor McGonagall stood there, with a piece of parchment in her hand.

"I have received a note," she stated.

"Let me see it, please Minerva," responded Dumbledore.

Ginny Weasley has returned to you and I am anxious her participation in the tournament should continue. Miss Chang may take on the role of reserve. Miss Weasley shall take the role of champion. I shall be watching. If these requests are not met, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur.

Your obedient servant,

"Who in Merlin's name is HP?" cried out Molly Weasley.

"If I had to guess," offered Snape in his typically superior tone, "I should say it stood for Hogwarts Phantom.

"What nonsense. Albus, I demand you withdraw my daughter…"

"Molly, please. Let's go and find Ginny…"

"Headmaster, I demand to be reinstated…"

"Miss Chang, please calm yourself…"

"Orders, warnings, ludicrous demands, whatever next…"

"We must ensure Miss Weasley's safety…"

Pandemonium resumed as everyone tried to talk at once. "SILENCE!" ordered the headmaster, in a tone that left no room for disobedience.

"Thank you. Miss Weasley will revert to her status as reserve. Miss Chang will resume as Hogwarts champion."

"So be it!" whispered an unheard voice. "A disaster beyond your imagination will occur."


Hogwarts, the second task

"…Aaaannnd the champion for Hogwarts, Miss Cho Chang."

Ludo Bagman's amplified voice boomed out across the lake. The champions each stood on one of three massive gantries that had been constructed in the lake. Each gantry had several levels, allowing all the spectators to watch the action from on the lake itself. The amiable voice of the ex-quidditch star explained the rules of the task, for the benefit of the eagerly waiting crowds of students, teachers, parents and judges. Far beneath the surface, three hostages, one for each champion, had been secured. Hermione Granger, for Durmstrang's Viktor Krum. Fleur's hostage was her little sister Gabrielle, and Cedric Diggory, a pretty boy from Hufflepuff was Cho Chang's 'something'.

Just as Ludo Bagman was about to send a bang out of his wand to start the task, one of the viewing platforms gave out a tremendous creak. Suddenly, the whole gantry lurched as one of the supporting struts collapsed. Pandemonium ensued as many students screamed. It was only a matter of moments before the whole platform, along with a third of all the spectators, collapsed into the lake.

As the cries of students and the shouted instructions of adults tore through the spring air, above it all, one distinct noise could be heard: laughing. A haunting laugh echoed across the lake, reverberating around the mountains and forest, chilling the souls of those without a stern constitution.

Ginny, who had been on a different platform, was brought safely to the shore of the lake by her father.

"It's him. I know it. It's him," she whispered to herself.

"Who?" asked Arthur, confused as to what Ginny was saying.

"The Angel of Magic!"

"Don't be silly, those were just bedtime stories. Come on; let's get back to the castle."

As Arthur Weasley led his youngest child back to the warmth and safety of Hogwarts castle, all around the students were chattering about the Phantom of Hogwarts. Ginny caught snatches of conversations, hearing words like 'Monster' and 'Evil'. Confused and upset, the young girl ran from her father and into the safety of her dormitory, where she flung herself onto her bed.

That evening at dinner, it was announced by Dumbledore that the Triwizard Tournament was to be cancelled. As the hosting school, Hogwarts was apparently unable to ensure the safety of not only the competitors, but also the spectators. It was agreed by all parties that cancelling was the only viable option.

The remainder of the school year passed by in daze for Ginny Weasley. Torn between her love for the beautiful Angel that taught her so much, and her horror at the terror he had caused, she found solace hard to come by. Although the Phantom watched over her sleep, he did not enter her dreams, as if he could sense the turmoil within his beloved's mind.

Finally, as the school year drew to a close, Dumbledore dropped a bombshell on the Hogwarts populace. Lord Voldemort had returned.

Hogwarts, September 1st 1995

As she sat at the Gryffindor table, watching the new first years be sorted into houses, Ginny Weasley had a sense of foreboding. She could sense something was about to happen that she would not like. It was almost as if she could feel that the castle was missing something, and it was not happy. Finally, when all the new students were sorted and the great feast eaten, Professor Dumbledore stood to deliver his opening speech.

"…On another matter, over the summer break, it was decided by the Governors, the Ministry and by the staff that action needed to be taken over the so-called Phantom of Hogwarts. I would like to assure all of you that a thorough search of the school was conducted, and no such creature, or indeed any trace, was found. I am one hundred percent certain, that there is no longer, if there ever was, a Phantom of Hogwarts…"

As a single tear rolled slowly down her cheek, Ginny Weasley tuned out the rest of Dumbledore's address. Now she understood her feeling of unease. Her Angel was gone.


Hogwarts, June 1996

On the third anniversary of the day that her Angel had saved her in the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny retired to her dormitory soon after the evening meal. Safe within the confines of her four poster bed, with the hangings drawn, she let her mind wander.

If only she could hear his voice again, or know that he was near. She tried to remember what his face looked like - that part which she had seen - and she strived to hear his soft, calming voice in her ears. He was so much more than a friend, or a loved one. He was a guide in the world of magic. A guardian in the dangerous game that is living. When he was near she felt safe, sheltered, comforted. He was the one that she thought of, whenever she was scared or unsure.

But now, with him having been chased out of the castle, she felt lonely, unprotected and vulnerable. She sometimes dreamed of the chamber, whereas she never would have had her Angel been watching over her. She wished over and over that he could be here again. Her Angel of Magic, tutor, friend, guide and guardian.

The growing girl ached to dream of him. Even the random, meaningless dreams in which he merely appeared as a character had stopped, no matter how hard she prayed. All hopes of a dream 'lesson' were long since dashed. Resigned to facing the world without him, and with her face streaked with the salty residue of dried tears, Ginny Weasley eventually fell into a fitful sleep.


Hogwarts, May 1997

The last two years had been incredibly tense for the British Wizarding population. Death Eater activity gradually increased since Voldemort's supposed return. Although the Ministry of Magic spent the first year maintaining it was all a lie created by Albus Dumbledore, the increasing number of attacks, disasters and acts of terrorism soon had the nation convinced. Finally, when Voldemort himself appeared at the Ministry of Magic in 1996, it was officially conceded by the wizarding government that Voldemort had, in fact, returned.

Although Ginny's feeling that something was missing from Hogwarts remained, she continued to be one of the school's best performers, using the techniques taught by her Angel to augment her spell casting. As the school year was nearing its conclusion, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry experienced a terrifying ordeal that nobody expected would ever occur: Voldemort attacked.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and the majority of students were in classes. A few were in their common rooms or the library. Teachers were busy teaching or preparing. A reasonable number of Aurors stood patrolling the castle during these turbulent times, so the students were not defenceless. Of course, Albus Dumbledore remained in place. It was believed that Voldemort would never dare attack whilst the headmaster was present, but it seemed confidence had overtaken the Dark Lord, and he dared.

Although the various teachers, Aurors and upper students managed, for the most part, to contain the Death Eaters that accompanied Voldemort, inevitably the battle came down to the fight between leaders; Dumbledore and Voldemort. In the grand entrance hall they squared off, duelling relentlessly for what seemed like hours. As time wore on, however, the older man began to tire and the Dark Lord gained the upper hand. Dumbledore was hit with several painful bludgeoning curses. Dumbledore stumbled back, tripped over his own robe and landed with a painful thud at the foot of the grand staircase. As he inched himself backwards so he was leaning on the bottom of the balustrade, Voldemort stalked forwards, ready for the kill.

Standing over the crumpled heap of his lifelong nemesis, Voldemort called out tauntingly. "Say goodbye to your beloved school, old man."

But just as Voldemort prepared to cast the final spell, a voice rang out from above them. Standing on the first landing, up the staircase was a student, a fifth year girl, a prefect with red hair.

"Hello Tom!"

Voldemort whipped his round to see who dared use his despised father's name.

"You are either very brave or very stupid, little girl," hissed Voldemort. "I hope you are prepared to die, you insolent whelp."

"You will not hurt me again," ground out Ginny through clenched teeth, and with that said she held out her hands and sent blasts of pure, good magic at the evil wizard who stood below her. Voldemort was taken by surprise and took a few blasts which knocked him backwards. However, his wits regained, Voldemort fought back, and soon Ginny was reduced to dodging and blocking the dark curses flung her way.

As Voldemort's experience began to win out, and Ginny was struck by a painful stinging hex, she cried out in pain. Sensing victory, Voldemort began to move up the stairs as he duelled. Halfway up, something amazing happened. In the blink of an eye, and a whoosh of smoke, a second figure appeared at Ginny's side. A figure dressed in black, with a black cloak.

And a white mask across half his face.

"Another fool who wants to die?" sneered Voldemort, hiding his surprise at the appearance of this strange figure.

"Come Ginevra," called the Phantom to Ginny. "Let us finish this."

Rejuvenated by the appearance of her Angel, Ginny stood tall and prepared to fight once more.

"Feel the magic, Ginevra…" whispered the Angel, as he sent wave after wave of absolutely natural, pure magic into Voldemort. Ginny followed his lead and added light magic of her own. It was too much for the evil, warped soul inside Tom Riddle's body to take. He started flinging blasting curses randomly round the entrance hall as his arms flailed under the bombardment coming from the landing above him. The hall filled with flying debris as those curses struck walls, statues and anything else unfortunate to bear their brunt.

After only a few minutes, Voldemort's body could not longer take the barrage of magic to which it was being subjected. Inside the flesh, the soul disintegrated. The lifeless body of Voldemort fell to the stairs on which he had been standing.


Slowly, the dust settled in the entrance hall. A sea of faces began appearing, people came out of the hiding places, Aurors and teachers weary and wounded from their battles with Death Eaters. Students, teachers, and Aurors alike all stood and stared at the drama unfolding before them.

At the bottom of the main staircase, slumped against the stone wall was the battered body of Albus Dumbledore. His breathing was laboured and face contorted with pain, but yet his eyes retained a faint semblance of a twinkle, as he looked up the staircase.

Halfway between Dumbledore and the first landing, strewn across several steps, was the beaten and broken body of Voldemort. The Dark Lord's face was frozen with a look of terror, the face of a cowardly man, forced to face his greatest fear — death.

On the landing above, Ginny Weasley and the Hogwarts Phantom stood, barely inches apart. Completely unaware of the captivated audience below, the masked man spoke.

"It is over Ginevra. You are a hero."

"No!" she said defiantly. "We are heroes. We fought him together."

"It was your courage, your strength, your spirit and your passion, Ginevra. You prevented the evil one from killing the old man. You should take the accolades you are due."

"But Tom was about to kill me. You saved me again. It was your power that defeated him. Yours. Oh my Angel. Won't you stop hiding in the shadows? Your very soul is dedicated to all that is light. Please come out of the darkness."

"I don't believe the world is ready to know me, do you?"

"I don't care! I know you. I believe in you just as you asked me to...I love you." Ginny's voice shook from the emotion that it conveyed. She stopped for a moment to wipe the hair from her eyes and then whispered with a softness no-one watching had ever heard before. "I want to see your face."

She reached up and touched the mask with the back of her fingers, as if stroking his cheek. As she stretched her fingers wide and made to grasp the edges of the mask, the Phantom caught her wrist with his own strong hand.

"Wait. This is the point of no return; do you really want to see the face of a monster, Ginevra?"

"No, I do not." She paused, took a deep breath, and continued confidently, "But I would look upon the face of an angel."

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