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SIYE Time:6:53 on 29th March 2024
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The Room of Lost Things
By Deadptarmigan

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Drama
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Disturbing Imagery, Intimate Sexual Situations
Rating: R
Reviews: 11
Summary: Alternate Universe. Harry and Ginny. Please enjoy this screwed up little story. Photography credit goes to Daniil Kontorovich on Behance. Editing credit to Andrea Gonzales.
Hitcount: Story Total: 9601; Chapter Total: 1414





Author's Notes:
I hope you enjoy this story!




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PART I

1.

Ginny's head hurt. It hurt like nothing else had in her entire life, not even the time she'd tripped over a cauldron, and fell down the stairs at the Burrow. Her arm was broken in two places — the bone had torn the skin. And still, it hadn't hurt like this.

"Ginny!"

Harry's voice. He sounded like he was in pain, too.

She opened her eyes. "Whazza?"

Several things were revealed to her: Harry was covered in muck and blood, he was holding a long, curved fang, they were no longer in the Chamber of Secrets, and they were surrounded by things. Furniture… books… lamps… globes… everything anyone could think of was stacked high.

She tried to sit up, but couldn't. She clutched at her head. Tears spilled out of her eyes, and she couldn't stop it. "Harry, I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know what that diary was, I didn't know!"

He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. "S'okay," he muttered. "I'm not worried about that — Ginny, I don't know where we are."

"You didn't — didn't take me somewhere?" Ginny asked through her tears. But then she remembered — remembered seeing a homely little face in between two giant, bat-like ears. "Did you bring a house elf with you?"

"You saw a house elf?" Harry asked urgently. "Was it Dobby?"

Ginny shook her head rapidly from side to side. "I don't know a Dobby. I just know what a house elf looks like."

Harry looked disappointed. "There's no escape–"

"There's no escape at all from this room," Ginny agreed. The words came out of her by rote.

"Right," Harry agreed. "So we have to wait for Dobby — it had to be Dobby — to come back and get us."

Ginny was now shaking uncontrollably. Her teeth chattered. "W-w-w-why do y-y-you think it's this D-D-D-D-Dobby? Was he your Muggles' house elf?"

"No, they didn't have a house elf," Harry said. "Dobby kept trying to help me this year… kept trying to help me by making it hard to come back to school and stuff. Remember when Ron and I had to take your dad's car — Ron!"

Ginny turned her head, expecting to see her brother walking toward them. "W-w-w-where?"

"He was there — he came down to the Chamber, but then Lockhart stole his wand and tried to duel me. Caused a bunch of rocks to fall down, and Ron was stuck on the other side." Harry staggered to his feet, then collapsed on the ground. "I can't get up," he muttered. Trying to stand up had sapped him of energy, it seemed. He didn't speak again for a long, long time. "Sorry, I — m'head hurts so bad."

"Mine too," said Ginny. She was in a hazy, drifting state. The elf had pointed his finger at her, right after he brought her and Harry to this room. This Dobby had done something. It was why her head hurt. It felt like there'd been lightning in her brain.

Ginny dozed, and woke. Dozed, and woke. The next time she opened her eyes, she found a plate of toast and a cup of tea sitting next to her head. It was just in time; her stomach rumbled. Her hands shook as she brought the toast to her lips. It was difficult to chew and swallow, and Ginny only managed half a piece before she set it down. She took a sip of tea, and dozed again. Harry had not moved the entire time her eyes were open.

What woke her up next actually launched her into a sitting position.

It was a voice. It was Professor Dumbledore's voice.

It was coming from a wispy, silvery bird… a phoenix, Ginny thought, judging by the plumage.

"–worry, we are going to find you. We found Mr. Ronald Weasley. He will make a full recovery, it will just take time. I have found the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, and I promise you this: I will find a way through the barrier. We will find you and Miss Weasley. Oh, and Gilderoy, of course."

Ginny's head spun. They found Ron? He was all right, or he would be in time?

"Ginny?" Harry said weakly. "Did you say something?"

"Not me, Dumbledore," Ginny said. She cleared her throat, and repeated the message word for word.

"What happened to Ron?" Harry asked, sounding a little sharper.

"I don't know," Ginny said helplessly. The tears started again. She ate more of her toast.

The next time she woke up, Harry was lightly shaking her shoulder. "Ginny. Ginny, wake up."

She blinked. "Sorry, Harry, I don't know why I'm so tired."

"Dunno, but Tom Riddle was taking your life force, he said. Maybe it — it takes a while to grow back?" Harry said.

"But haven't you been sleepy, too?" Ginny asked. "Maybe it's something that house elf of yours did. Maybe he did something to us."

"I… possibly," Harry's face fell into a pensive line. "There was — there was something else." Then his expression shuttered. "Or maybe not. Listen, Dumbledore sent us another message." He proceeded to tell her that Dumbledore and several curse-breakers had busted through into the Chamber. "Including Bill," said Harry. "Dumbledore said he came back from Egypt to help find you… They were very surprised not to find us," he finished glumly.

"Surely they will, though," said Ginny. For the first time since she'd arrived, she got to her feet. Her legs were as shaky as a baby hippogriff's.

"Oh!" said Harry. "I have your wand… here."

He held it out to her, and Ginny took it. "Thank you," she said quietly.

From this vantage point, she could see a lump of black robes directly ahead, in the center of a small clearing. "Harry, look! Someone else is here!" Ginny picked her way toward it, using the furniture and things next to her to help her along the way. Harry followed her. Both of them were breathing hard by the time they were halfway there. Ginny plopped onto an old, old chair to rest. Harry kept going.

"It's Lockhart," he called back to her.

2.

Ginny felt relieved. Professor Lockhart was an annoying git, she privately thought, but he was an adult. He would know how–

"He's mad as a hatter," said Harry.

Her hopes sank.

3.

"But maybe he recovered," said Ginny, after Harry told her what had happened. "Harry, he's an adult."

He'll know what to do.

The magic of the room provided a cup of tea. Ginny knelt next to the professor and gently tapped his shoulder.

He turned over. His eyes were wide and staring.

"Do you know what to do? We're trapped here," said Ginny. "There's no exit."

The professor just stared.

He smelled funny, like maybe he'd gone to the bathroom in his robes. Ginny leaned away from him. Maybe he was physically weaker than they were, maybe he'd been hurt more when that charm had backfired.

When Harry prodded him with his foot, he showed some life.

"Please, professor, we need help," she begged. There was no escape from this room, but maybe he knew how to send that kind of message Dumbledore used. "We're stuck here. We need help."

"Oh my yes," he finally said. He struggled to his feet. The smell of a backed-up toilet grew stronger. "And I'm the obvious choice." He threw Harry a black look. "Not that one over there. Let's get going, shall we?"

And for a few minutes, Ginny genuinely thought Professor Lockhart would be able to help them. His cape swirled about him, and if she walked far enough away from him, she could pretend she didn't know he'd made a mess of himself. Harry walked close enough beside her that his arm brushed against hers.

"Ah, here we are!"

Ginny stopped, feeling a tendril of hope.

"Just in time for my book signing!"

Then Professor Lockhart sat behind a broken writing desk, and beamed at them. "Welcome, welcome! You're just in time to hear the thrilling tale of how I defeated the banshee!"

"The banshee?" A black, hopeless feeling settled over her.

"Yes, yes, the banshee," he said. "Come now, don't you want your books signed?"

Ginny's entire face heated. She almost lost her temper right then — something about the way he was sitting… the way he pontificated… it reminded her of when she'd been given the diary. They'd all been in Flourish and Blotts, even this one. That was why she was suddenly so angry.

"See?" Harry said quietly. "Mad as a hatter."

4.

Gilderoy — Ginny could no longer thing of him as Professor Lockhart — proved to be more of a liability than a help. As her strength returned, she grew increasingly annoyed with him.

"But where is that red-haired boy?!" Gilderoy was shouting. "HE HAS MY WAND!"

This was at least the fiftieth time Ginny had heard this refrain, and she shared a quick, irritated glance with Harry. She knew most of what had happened in the Chamber by now. They'd slept several times since Harry'd told her in an embarrassing rush of words, including the bits about Gilderoy he'd already told her.

"We figured out where you were… it was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom that's the entrance — you know that — and we went to Gilderoy. Stupidly. Then he grabbed Ron's wand… it backfired, and the ceiling caved in. He was probably already barmy… I wasn't paying attention. I was, uh, I was trying to get to you. And there was this — this boy, but he wasn't quite real, y'know? I knew him from when I found the diary, and it turns out Voldemort had made it. Voldemort was Tom Riddle. It was him in there, Ginny, I dunno how. Then the basilisk came, and I fought it, and that's all. Oh, and I stabbed the diary. It was — it was bleeding and Tom Riddle was screaming. Then — then, I–"

"Then you what?"

"I woke up here," Harry said in such a way that Ginny knew he was keeping something from her.

It hurt to think about what had happened. It was easy to ignore when she was trying to take care of Gilderoy (whose moods were strange and demanding), but at night, whatever she used for a pillow was often wet with tears by the time she fell asleep. It was Voldemort, then? This whole last year… the diary… she'd been talking to Voldemort? Telling Voldemort her secrets, letting him soothe her? It made her sick to her stomach to think about.

It got to the point she thought she saw Tom Riddle out of the corners of her eyes. It didn't help that she knew something else had happened. Harry was often distracted — they didn't talk much. Ginny still couldn't hardly look at him. But she knew something was on his mind, other than the fact they had to wait in this room until Dobby decided to come let them out. There was no escape, otherwise.

Ginny had just caught a glimpse of Riddle, and her fears were surging. What if Harry hadn't really seen Tom Riddle disappearing? What if he was still out there? What if he was still in her?

She and Harry were walking side by side, making a path through stacks and stacks of furniture. The silence fairly boiled between them, but Ginny couldn't seem to breach her embarrassment. What if he thought she thought he was a liar? But she couldn't keep going on like this, thinking she saw Tom Riddle everywhere. She couldn't.

"Harry–"

"Ginny–"

The y spoke at the same moment.

"You go first," said Ginny, with an air of great relief.

"You know more about our world… the real world, I mean, not here. Do you know who or what a Serious Black is? Is it a person? A type of spell?"

Ginny stopped in her tracks. "Sirius Black?" she said faintly. "He's not here, is he?"

"I didn't even know it was a he," said Harry. "Someone mentioned — in the Chamber — someone mentioned him."

"Oh, Tom must've mentioned him," Ginny said with authority. "He was a follower — a Death Eater. Mum and Dad only whisper about him, but I do know he killed a street full of Muggles, right after your — right after your parents."

"You know, I think that's the most you've ever said to me," said Harry. "But it wasn't — it wasn't Voldemort. It was something else. But never mind. What were you going to say?"

"I–I forgot," Ginny lied.

5.

They'd reached a giant pile of old broomsticks. Without even thinking, Ginny took one and climbed on. It was ancient, and it puttered through the air, but it was flying. She was doing something she loved. True, it would be better to have a nicer broom. And she missed being outside. But this was almost as good.

Her face cracked a smile for the first time in what felt like months.

Then Harry was beside her.

"It just goes on and on, doesn't it?" he said quietly.

Gilderoy was jumping up and down below them, shouting at them to come back, they were supposed to be his fans, why were they leaving him?

6.

Ginny was staring at Tom Riddle. Horror had paralyzed her entire body. He was tall and pale. She was trapped in his gaze, he was sucking the life out of her… it wasn't over, it would never be over.

Then a silvery, beautiful weasel appeared. "Ginny, Dumbledore taught us how to make these talk," it said with her dad's voice.

Tom Riddle burst apart in a cloud of sparks.

Ginny's eyes filled with tears. Her dad kept talking. "We are still looking for you. We will never stop looking for you. Ron is out of St. Mungo's and is home now. They gave him a reward; his picture was in the Daily Prophet and everything. He's finally able to tell us everything, and we know — we know Lucius Malfoy gave you a diary. Dumbledore says it may have done things to you. It may have made you do things. Ginny… we don't know why you're gone, or where you are, but your mother and I — and — and everyone… we miss you. We love you."

7.

"But what was it?" Harry's mouth was hanging open. "Dumbledore's phoenix, your dad's weasel… what are they? How do we make one? If we did, we could tell them we're alive. Maybe they could find us before Dobby comes back."

"I don't know," Ginny said, spreading her hands. She closed her eyes, and wished — oh, she wished she knew what those silvery creatures were.

Something hard landed on her foot.

Her eyes flew open. There was a book, moldy and old, suddenly there as though it had dropped from the sky. Harry bent down and picked it up, brows furrowed with consternation. "It just appeared," he said in a hushed voice. "Look… it's called Advanced Protection…"

Ginny read over his shoulder. The page it had opened to outlined something called the Patronus Charm. "I think I've heard of this," Ginny said slowly. "I remember Dad coming home from a visit to Azkaban once… said his 'patronus was fucking knackered from all the Dementors'?"

"What're Dementors? And your dad swears like that in front of you?"

"I was listening in at the door," Ginny admitted. "And Dementors are the Azkaban guards. Dad says they're terrifying. They keep all the prisoners in."

"Oh," Harry nodded. Then he smiled faintly at her. "You eavesdrop a lot?"

"You have to when you're the youngest," Ginny shrugged. "Otherwise you never find stuff out."

"All right, well… this charm doesn't look too complicated… all you do is think of a 'thought full of warmth and good tidings' and say 'expecto patronum'," Harry told her.

8.

Ginny and Harry slept twice more before Dumbledore's patronus arrived. Both of them looked at it with extreme frustration. It turned out that thinking a thought full of warmth and good tidings was extremely difficult. "It's because we're trapped," Harry'd kicked a table leg in anger. "How're we supposed to think good thoughts?"

Ginny privately agreed. It was a magically exhausting spell, even though she'd only managed to emit a silvery blue spark from her wand — it'd winked out of existence so swiftly, she might've even imagined it. But she kept trying. And once Harry got over his frustration, he kept at it, too.

It didn't help that Gilderoy took turns jeering at them, and trying to get them to want his autograph.

But neither Ginny nor Harry were feeling particularly charitable when the patronus arrived.

"As I am sure you are aware, we did not, in fact, rescue you from Lucius Malfoy's manor house this evening. The Ministry conducted a raid. Malfoy fought, and used several house-elves as decoys — alas, they are dead. He is now in Azkaban, where he will remain for quite some time. He tried to claim the dark objects were his wife's sister's — also in Azkaban — but the Ministry is no longer accepting his bribes. I have seen to that. I was so certain you would be there, Harry, that we would find you and Miss Weasley. And Gilderoy. If you are with Miss Weasley, please tell her that her father and brothers exacted an elegant revenge on her behalf."

The patronus winked out of existence.

There was a pained look on Harry's face.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing," Harry said quietly. "Nothing."

9.

It was the following day — as far as they reckoned days in this strange place — that Ginny crossed some sort of invisible threshold in the room, and felt a wave of intense dread. Frozen, she expected to see Tom Riddle come out of the shadows, and start trying to kill her again. It took minutes before she realized nothing was wrong, she was staring at cupboard with a large stain on it, as though someone had thrown aside on it. It was littered with other, smaller items: a dusty old brooch, a tiara, and several chipped mugs.

"It's leftover nerves," Ginny muttered to herself.

But she led them onward, and when Gilderoy wanted to stop when they were too close to that cabinet, Ginny prodded him with her wand. "No," she hissed. "You don't get to stop right now. Get up."

"Well, I certainly won't be returning here," Gilderoy said irritably. "You're a terrible event coordinator. I'm going to have to have a word with your manager."

"You do that." The nerves had made her snide.

Harry finally ended up having to help her drag him by the feet.

10.

Her mother sent a patronus that night, and then Bill.

Ginny wept at the sound of their voices.

Harry tried for hours that night to conjure a patronus. Ginny watched him, too depressed to even try. All she kept thinking about was that cold sliminess she'd felt earlier that day. "They said we've been gone for almost a month," she said. "Why has Dobby been gone so long?"

Harry dropped his wand, and the look he gave Ginny made her stomach clench in fear. "I think Dobby was Lucius Malfoy's," he said. "I don't know for sure. But when Dumbledore sent that patronus… he said some house-elves were used as decoys. I thought — I think — I think it was Dobby. I think Dobby's dead."

"Why didn't you say something?" Ginny demanded, before she could stop herself. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know if I'm right. I don't."

"I know I'm not Ron or Hermione, but I deserve to know these things!" Ginny said hotly.

Harry flushed. "It isn't because you aren't them, I just — I didn't want to say it out loud."

Ginny's anger receded. "I didn't mean to shout at you, Harry, I'm sorry."

Harry shrugged. "It's better than you not talking to me at all."

9.

By the time Ginny got up from her nap, Harry was gone, leaving her to deal with the mess Gilderoy'd made of his pants and robes all by herself. She still felt that urge to put distance between herself and that cabinet and whatever was in it, but she didn't want to move too far. It would take much too much effort to find Harry again.

She was sitting cross-legged on a giant round table, when Harry rounded the corner of the nearest alleyway. His face was terrible to behold: set, white, and there were tear tracks on it. Ginny looked at him with horror. He hadn't cried at all that she'd seen. What was it?

"Harry? What's happened?" she slid off the table and picked her way toward him.

He jumped at the sound of her voice, and stared at her, mouth gaping. "G-Ginny?" he asked, as though he'd seen a ghost.

"Yes?" she said, confused.

"I thought you left," he said faintly. "I saw you leave this place… you and Gilderoy. I watched you. I was calling for you, and running to try to catch up, and everything. There was this giant glowing door, and you went through it. And I was all–"

His voice broke off.

Ginny's mind raced. "Harry, I — I think there are boggarts here. I think you saw a boggart today… and I'm — I'm pretty sure I've seen a couple out of the corner of my eyes. And my dad's patronus landed right on top of one."

"What's a boggart?" He was standing quite close to her, and he clasped her shoulder, as though checking to see if she was real.

"It's this creature that takes the form of what you — something you're afraid of," Ginny told him. "It must've been a pretty strong one if it showed you a whole scene."

"I feel so tired," Harry murmured.

"Yeah, well, it was feeding off you," said Ginny. She helped him sit down in a ratty old chair. "Mum says the best way to get rid of a boggart is to laugh at it… she had a spell — 'Riddikulus' — that she used, but you can just laugh at it. Fred and George used to hire themselves out as boggart exterminators… they called themselves the 'Boggart Boys'."

"It wasn't funny, though, how could I laugh?" Harry asked. "I know it's selfish, but being left alone in here… there's nothing funny in that."

"I wouldn't want to be left alone here, either," said Ginny.

11.

"Does this look familiar to you?" Harry asked.

Ginny looked around, feeling rather dull. Mounds of furniture, a few tapestries, a painting of Wendell the Weird–

"Yes," Ginny said. "I think… isn't this where we woke up?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Yeah, it is."

They exchanged a defeated look. It was then that they ceased their wandering, and began to set up something like a camp. Harry sent furniture flying with careless mutters of "Wingardium Leviosa," and cleared a large area of furniture and other detritus. Ginny used all her magical know-how to make reasonably-sized rooms. She even — furtively — did something she had begun to quite frequently: she chanted her request, focusing on what she needed.

An outdoor shower appeared. A yellowing curtain surrounded it, but Ginny checked, and the water ran. And it was warm. She wasted no time and hopped in. There was a point when spells could only do so much.

"You got it to give you a shower?" Harry said, delighted.

Ginny squeaked.

"Don't worry, I can't see anything," he said. "Privates are private, I know that."

"Right," Ginny whispered. "Right."

He wandered away, and Ginny finished her shower.

It took them days before they were satisfied with it. Not because the work was particularly difficult, but because they both kept swinging between hoping it was a waste of time, and actually putting it together. But it was a decent camp when they were done with it. Ginny had a bedroom with walls made of stacked furniture. The roof was open — the walls only went up seven feet. She'd found a beaded curtain several alleys over, and was using it for a door. Her bed was huge, and had a wispy white canopy. It wasn't girlish, or anything, but it was soft; it looked soft, and it was actually soft. After a month of sleeping wherever she could, that first night was as wonderful as it could be.

The second night was awful.

Dumbledore's patronus came, and didn't say anything for the longest time. At last, it said: "We are still searching. My sources say that Lord Voldemort is still in Albania." There was clear frustration in his tone. "Arthur Weasley is in the process of tearing apart the Ministry, looking for any sign of you. Cornelius Fudge is no longer our Minister; he has been replaced. But still, we have no good leads. Bill Weasley is heading the search effort in other countries. We had hoped we would find you sooner than this, Harry. And Ginny, if I may call you Ginny. Your mother has that marvelous clock of hers, so we know you are not dead. Just lost. But I make this my birthday promise to you, Harry — you will not remain lost forever."

Ginny crawled into bed with Harry that night. "I can't be alone," she sobbed as he made room for her. He patted her on the shoulder.

Dobby was dead, most likely, and even Dumbledore could not seem to find them.

"How are we going to get out of here? We need someone to find us!" Ginny's entire body was shaking. "I don't want to stay here forever!"

"We won't," Harry said firmly. "We won't. We need — we need to learn how to cast that patronus charm."

Ginny cried harder, thinking she might make herself sick from it.

"Ginny, it's okay," he whispered. He patted her on the back as she cried into a pillow. "It's going to be okay. We just need to learn more magic… look at how many books are in here, there's a ton of textbooks. Maybe if we just keep studying…"

"You sound like Hermione," she sniffled.

Harry huffed out a chuckle. "She'd be right."

"Okay, so we'll start studying," said Ginny. She felt a little tendril of hope.

"We'll keep studying until we learn the patronus," he said firmly.

There was a long, long silence. She looked at him. They'd dimmed most of the lights as they did every time they wanted to sleep. But she could still see his profile. "Harry…" she whispered. "Are you still awake?"

"Yeah," he whispered back.

"Is Tom Riddle really gone? The Tom Riddle from the diary?"

"Yeah," he said. "I'm sure he is. Last I saw him, the diary was spurting ink like blood. He was screaming…"

"But there's something you aren't telling me," Ginny said.

"It's not… it's not about that, I promise."

"Is it about Sirius Black?" she asked.

He sat up and scrubbed at his face. "Sort of," he said. "I didn't tell you but… I got the basilisk fang because it — it bit me. It was in my shoulder. I killed it with the sword, and I killed the diary with the fang, but I think — this sounds mental, as mental as Gilderoy, but… I think I died a little?"

Ginny was confused. "What?"

"Ginny," he breathed. "I saw my parents. I swear I did. They said a bunch of stuff about how Voldemort left something in me when he tried to kill me as a baby. Then Mum cried… Dad cried… said they were sorry they trusted the wrong person, and that Sirius Black was the best friend they've ever had."

"Sirius Black?" Ginny said, shocked.

"You believe me?" He asked her. He sounded astonished.

"Of course," said Ginny. "I knew there was something you weren't telling me."

"Thank you," he whispered. "I think I was dead… but then I heard this song. Remember how I told you Dumbledore's phoenix — the real one — plucked out the basilisk's eyes? Well, I could hear it. I think it did something to bring me back. And then I could hardly see my parents anymore, but my dad kept telling me: stab the diary. Use the fang and stab the diary. So as soon as I could move, I did. And then we were waking up here."

Ginny thought about this for a long time.

"Are you still awake?" Harry finally asked.

"Yeah," said Ginny.

"You don't — you don't think we died, do you? This isn't some — some afterlife, or anything, is it?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, Harry, we're alive. We're alive, and trapped in a place with no exit. A place that grants us pretty much everything else we want–"

"–it does seem to answer the little — little prayers. That's what Muggles call it," said Harry. "It answers the little prayers, but not the big stuff."

"Yeah, prayers," said Ginny, waving her hand. "But we are alive. You're alive. I'm alive. Gilderoy's alive. I promise you're alive."

12.

The next day, they got out of bed, and began to collect all the textbooks they could find. Each were determined to do whatever it took to get out of there.
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