Paradigm Shift

Prologue

When Ginevra Weasley was ten years old, Bill Weasley returned from his first expedition to Egypt. The responses from her brothers were all typical- Charlie clapped him on the back, Percy gave him an overly formal welcome back while puffing out his chest (as though he could picture the prefect badge there already), Fred and George pranked him with a spell that turned his hair black when he walked in the door. It was supposed to make him tan too, but the change wasn't all that noticeable.

Ron and Ginny hung back. The years created a yawning gap between the two of them and their eldest brother, so the most they did was greet him when he sent them grins while giving Fred a noogie.

Her mother spent the next half an hour fussing over Bill, severely scolding the twins for their prank, and trying unsuccessfully to change his hair back to flaming red. Mr. Weasley eagerly asked him to recount his adventures in the Land of the Nile- was he forced to use muggle transportation? What kind? What was it like? Were there any muggles there on the expedition? What were they like?

Bill laughed easily at his dad's over-enthusiasm. "Yeah, we had to drive to one of the tombs in a... a Cheep, I think it was called."

Beside her, Ron snickered at the strange name. Ginny listened to Bill's story, enraptured. She could easily picture the fantastic land that Egypt must have been: endless seas of golden sand, a bright blue sky, the sun lighting up the world. The nighttime sounded even more incredible to her- stars decorating the sky, the moon shining overhead.

"Can't I go with you next time, Bill?" she pleaded, running over and tugging on his pant leg.

He sighed and ruffled her hair absentmindedly, making her scowl. "'Fraid not, Ginny. Egypt's a dangerous place. Lots of traps, magical or otherwise. Besides, you wouldn't like it there; the sand gets everywhere, and that sun would fry your skin."

Ginny was sure that she would like it there; she told Bill so, but he only laughed a bit.

"Trust me," he assured her. "You're better off staying put. You'll be going off to Hogwarts soon-"

She crossed her arms and muttered, "Not soon enough."

"- and besides." Here he bent down until he was on level with her. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "It'll be up to you to keep Mum company. You know how she gets."

Guiltily, Ginny glanced at her mother. While Mrs. Weasley kept up the appearance of being a cheerful, bustling housewife, she knew that the Weasley family matriarch's attitude changed during the school year. She became slightly put out at not having her boys to look after- and this year, Ron would be gone as well. Come to think of it, Ginny would be home by herself. While she still thought that spending that time in Egypt with Bill would be better, she didn't want her mum being home all alone.

Slumping, she agreed. Apparently the forlorn look on her face gave Bill some paused, because he began digging through the knapsack he'd brought with him.

"Almost... damn extension charm..." he muttered.

"BILL!"

"Sorry, Mum," he said, having the sense to look abashed. "Aha!"

Ginny's jaw dropped as he pulled out a gold object. A triangle was set in the middle of a ring, with spikes hanging from the ring part of the thing. There was a string threaded through it, and although it was a bit large for a necklace, she was captivated by the sight of it almost instantly. Hands trembling, she took it from him gingerly, watching in fascination as the light reflected off of the strange eye in the center.

"It's so pretty..." she whispered.

"Don't worry," Bill assured her mum and dad. "I had it screened before I brought it back. No signs of dark magic."

He didn't get a chance to say another word as she flung her arms around him, taking care not to poke him with one of the points on the necklace.

"Thank you, Bill!" she squealed, burying her face into his t-shirt.

He laughed, ruffling her hair. "You're welcome, sis."

A scoff came from behind her. Detaching herself from her brother, Ginny turned to glare at Ron.

"It's not like it's anything special," he muttered. Ginny noticed that his ears were turning red.

"You're just jealous because Bill gave me a cool present, and you didn't get one!" she retorted, slipping it over her head so that the pendant rested on her stomach.

"I am not!" he yelled. "It's a piece of jewelry. Jewelry's for girls."

Ginny huffed, but opted out of replying in favor of storming into her room.

It was just supposed to be a simple game of wizard's chess.

Ron was winning, as usual, and was wearing a very smug grin on his face. Ginny's expression was scrunched up in concentration as she debated on whether or not sending out her queen to take his pawn was the best idea- knowing her brother, he most likely had some kind of plan in mind. She had decided to go through with it, and wound up losing her queen as he countered her move.

She couldn't remember anything past that.

Her hand had a death grip on Ron's. His face was milk white, his breathing slow. Her mum was sobbing on the other side of the hospital bed, clutching at Ron's other hand as though letting go would be the death of her. His eyes were roving under the eyelids and he whimpered something every once and awhile, but other than that he showed no signs of stirring. Ginny clutched his hand tighter.

It had only been a chess game, but when she came to it had been to a sight that still burned into the back of her memory. Ron, crumpled on his side of the chessboard, was unmoving. Every single one of his red pieces was smashed to bits- his king was nothing but dust. Ginny's own king had been on a space in front of his.

She'd tried to awaken Ron, unable to explain why it was that she felt so shaken up.

When he didn't respond at first, her nudging had become more insistent.

When he showed no signs of waking up at all, she'd started sobbing incoherently. Their mum had rushed into her room after that, to find the remains of the chessboard and an unconscious Ron. The healers were unable to explain why her brother refused to wake up. Her dad and Bill were both arguing with a ministry official out in the hall.

I didn't do it, she told herself, taking a deep breath. It wasn't me. It couldn't have been!

So why did she feel like she was going to vomit every time she looked at him?

Ginny couldn't really remember the rest of that June. All she knew was that, suddenly, her brothers were all wary around her. She'd repeatedly told her parents (as well as several St. Mungo's healers) that she hadn't done anything. The chess pieces had suddenly exploded and Ron was knocked unconscious. She had, however, overheard one of the healers speculating that her magic was acting up- and not in a good way.

It didn't make any sense. Why would her magic hurt Ron? She loved him!

Fred and George were at least sympathetic to the fact that she was forbidden from playing any board games anymore. The three of them would sneak out to the orchard to play Quidditch every so often, and they often took her to the nearby Ottery St. Catchpole with them, where they spent some time with a few muggle friends.

They were playing Ghosts in the Graveyard when it happened again.

She'd been running.

The next thing she knew, she was picking herself up from the cold ground in an alleyway. There seemed to be a gnome pounding on the inside of her skull with a hammer. A few feet away was one of the boys that she, Fred and George had been playing with.

His eyes were closed, and he wasn't moving.

This time she screamed.

When Fred and George came running, she flew at them in hysterics. "I didn't do it! I just woke up and he was like this! I didn't do it I swear!"

"Ginny!" shouted Fred, taking her by the shoulders while George went to examine the boy. "Calm down, it's okay! We know you didn't do anything!"

She started shaking badly. Her legs turned to jelly, and this time the roiling of her stomach was too much. She vomited, the puddle of sick splashing onto Fred's trousers. With a yell of disgust he jumped back, but quickly ignored the vomit in favor of picking her up. She was frozen. When had it gotten so cold?

In the end, they just took the boy- Aaron, his name was Aaron- to a muggle doctor and said that they found him like that.

They never did go back to Ottery St. Catchpole after that.

Mid-July. Ron still hadn't woken up.

She was staring listlessly out of her window, yearning for the orchard and the escape that riding on a broom brought. The pendant was a comforting weight in her lap and the sun warmed her skin, but she still felt the constant fear in the back of her mind. Lately she kept on getting the feeling that she was being followed, but every time she looked, no one was there.

Pulling her knees to her chest, she buried her face in her jeans.

Her mum had found out about what happened to the muggle boy, having apparently heard it from the Lovegoods. Ginny had been dragged back to the hospital for another checkup, with the same conclusion as before: her magic was flaring up strangely. This time, however, they had elaborated a bit further by saying that it was possible she had an aptitude for dark magic.

Her mother had told her that she could no longer play with anyone else, Fred and George included, until they figured out how they were going to control her magic- which meant waiting until she went to Hogwarts before she was allowed to take part in any sort of game. She'd tried reading books, but found herself unable to focus on the pages.

Are you lonely, little girl?

Her head shot upward with a gasp; she stood and surveyed the room, looking for that presence that she'd felt at her back for the past few weeks.

No one was there.

You don't even know what you're looking for.

It was not a nice Voice. It was rough and edged, and sounded much older than Fred and George. Now truly frightened, she spun in a circle.

"Where are you?" she tried to cry, but it came out as a forlorn whisper.

Here.

Thinking it meant behind her, she spun around again. Laughter filled her mind; it seemed to echo, making her shiver and rub her arms in an attempt to regain some warmth.

Are you lonely, little girl? it asked her again. Would you like to play a game?

Cautiously, she answered, "What game?"

Whatever you'd like, Ginevra.

Jumping again, she said, "How do you know my name?" Her hands were starting to shake again, in spite of the fact that she hadn't hurt anyone this time. Its only response was another laugh.

"Stop that," she said, her voice trembling.

It did. Choose a game, Ginevra.

Biting her lip, she went into her cabinet and got out her own set of wizard's chess. The Voice seemed to be amused by this for some reason, but it didn't elaborate. Setting up both sides of the board, she sat cross legged on the white side.

"How are you going to play?"

Make a move.

Swallowing dryly, she croaked out, "Pawn to B3."

The pawn obeyed, sliding onto the spot without much trouble. After a few moments, she thought that perhaps she'd been going crazy and imagining the Voice, but then it abruptly said, Pawn to H6.

To her astonishment, the little red figure obeyed, moving forward one square. Suddenly her fear seemed ever so slightly lessened. Speaking with more confidence, she ordered one of her knights to take the field. The voice replied once again.

Gradually, however, she came to realize that something was wrong. When its- no, she now realized, his- bishop obliterated one of her castles, she felt a sharp pain in her chest. Doubling over slightly, she noted that the shaking had returned to her hands.

Not feeling up to par, Ginevra?

The Voice was happy about it.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying her best not to whimper. "Stop! It hurts!"

Make your move, girl, it ordered, its tone suddenly frightening. She shook her head as the pain seemed to worsen.

"No," she managed to get out. "No. I'm stopping. I'm tired anyway."

You don't understand, do you Ginevra? You can't stop. They won't allow it.

"Well too bad," she snapped, sounding braver than she felt. "I'm quitting." Quickly scooping all the pieces into her hands, she threw them and then the board back into her game drawer and then slammed it shut. The world spun around her when she tried to stand. Guessing that she needed to lie down, she stumbled over to her bed, landing on it with a cry of pain muffled by her pillow.

Ginny curled in on herself, feeling as though her nerves were on fire. Something was ripping up her insides, she was sure of it. Hot, silent tears ran down her cheeks as she tried her best not to scream from the pain. And all the while the Voice crooned:

Hush now, little girl. I'm sure it's all a part of your imagination...

Her brothers had left for Hogwarts, so it didn't really matter that she didn't have anyone to play with anymore. Her mum always seemed to be busy with something, her dad worked, and Bill had gone back to Egypt. Charlie was preparing to go back to Romania and was busy writing up several reports on dragons. As she had predicted, Percy had been the recipient of a prefect's badge.

She still couldn't believe that everyone else had gotten to meet Harry Potter, and she hadn't. She'd only gotten a small glimpse. Reclining against the tree in the garden, she pictured him in her mind's eye: a cute, kind boy with the trademark lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. The messy black hair and green eyes made her giggle a little bit.

One of the gnomes ran past her, pausing only to give her a curious look before continuing on its way.

Ginny sighed. The Voice hadn't come back after she had her strange pain episode back in July. She decided that it was probably all for the best anyway, considering that it seemed to be the cause of the pain in the first place. She was beginning to suspect that it was somehow connected to Ron's and Aaron's comas. Ron had woken up before school began, but Aaron was still apparently out.

Her brother remembered nothing of their chess match- a fact that she was grateful for. She didn't want to know what had happened.

You don't? You're not even curious?

No... she thought, feeling an unreasonable fear build up inside her. "Go away," she said out loud.

I can't do that, he replied. She shifted position slightly, the necklace tinkling a bit.

"Why not?" she demanded out loud, trying to sound courageous. She fiddled with the pendant a bit, staring down at it. He chuckled in response. She shivered, just as she did two months ago.

Suddenly, she remembered that that day, she'd left the necklace on her dresser, deciding that if she was going to go outside, she didn't want to ruin it. Come to think of it, she'd left it back home when she and the twins had gone into town, but she'd been wearing it when she came to later.

A kind of madness seized her, and she grabbed the string keeping it around her neck.

No you don't! the Voice suddenly roared, filling her head and almost blocking her hearing. Her eyes widened as she felt the points suddenly dig into her skin, anchoring it to her midsection. Red stains appeared on her green shirt as she stared down at the pendant in horror.

You're mine, little girl, he snarled. Mine.

Grabbing the ring part of it, she tried to pull it out, but the object only seemed to dig deeper, sending lightning bolts of pain through her that almost made her convulse.

She fainted.

When she awoke again, she was somehow back in her room. Her mother was probably still in Diagon Alley, running her errands. She'd be back soon, judging by the fact that the sun was already beginning to sink lower into the sky. The pendant hung limply from her neck, and the wounds it had caused had stopped bleeding. Looking at them made Ginny want to throw up, so she didn't look at them.

Quickly she changed shirts, not wanting to arouse suspicion. The Voice was telling her that if they found out, she'd be shut up in St. Mungo's mental ward.

She didn't know what to do. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. He was all around her, his laughter ringing in her ears.

Just remember, Ginevra.

Dear Tom,

Ugh, today was a horrible day! Snape decided to give us all extra homework for not having our potions done perfectly. And then McGonagall told me that I wasn't trying hard enough in Transfiguration. I do try; why can't she see it?

Dear Ginny,

I'm sure that she just happens to be looking the other way whenever you're performing well.
But enough about that. You said that there was something bothering you?

Dear Tom,

Yes, you're right. You know how I told you I've been having blackouts lately? I don't really understand why. The other day I woke up and I was covered in blood and chicken feathers! Well, what I wanted to tell you was that something similar happened to me before I came to Hogwarts. I was playing chess with my brother Ron when I suddenly passed out. When I woke up, his pieces were destroyed and he was in a coma.

It happened again when I was playing a muggle game with some boys in town. His name was Aaron... I think that he still hasn't woken up yet. Later, I-

Ginny paused here, quill tip hovering over the yellowing page. Even with Tom- who she trusted more than most people- she was reluctant to share her experience with the Voice in her head. It- he- spoke to her frequently in the year before her time at Hogwarts. Mostly he seemed to just want to play more games. When she finally relented (if she didn't give in, he usually used the pendant to stab her again), she slowly learned to somewhat withstand the pain that having destroyed chess pieces caused.

Most of the time she lost, though. And losing hurt almost as badly as forfeiting did.

It never hurt for long; she usually went back to normal after a few hours. There had been several times when she tried to muster up the courage to tell her mother. She could clearly remember the Voice's response to that little idea.

You'll never learn.

She'd awoken to find herself in town again, another unknowing victim unconscious at her feet. Recalling the implication made Ginny feel sick; she could just imagine the Voice saying to her, "If you try to tell her, then I'll just have to challenge her to a little game, won't I?"

She blinked. Tom had written back, curious about her sudden lapse in concentration. She bent over to reply-

-but there were already words there.

This one is mine, mortal.

There was a pause. Even though no one was actually speaking aloud, Ginny found herself straining her ears.

Who are you?

She abruptly shut the diary, gulping deep breaths and trying to flatten her panic. For some unknown reason, the Voice had been strangely silent since her arrival at Hogwarts. Not that she had really noticed; there were two suitable distractions from it. One, of course, was Tom and his diary. He was her first real friend.

The other was Harry Potter.

It was beyond frustrating that she couldn't even manage to stammer out a hello in front of him. His eyes would catch hers and almost pin her there, making even a squeak seem impossible to utter. Instead, she almost always found herself fleeing his vicinity, hoping against hope that he had somehow not noticed.

But then, it was better than the Voice torturing her every day.

He'd thrown out the diary.

She knew that it was the Voice, because she'd been writing to Tom when she had another blackout. Granted, at least this time she hadn't woken up to any strangled roosters. She was in the third floor corridor, propped up against the wall. No one was in sight.

It hadn't taken her long to discover what was wrong. She practically tore apart her school things looking for the diary, unable to explain why she wanted- no, needed- it back so badly. An irrational rage filled her, even though she herself had been considering getting rid of the diary herself only hours beforehand.

She had immediately suspected that it had been her who was making the attacks when Mrs. Norris first showed up hanging from a torch set in the wall. Several things didn't add up, however; whenever she'd hurt people in the past, they'd just been knocked unconscious for an indeterminate period of time. Sometimes they seemed to just come out of it on their own, and other times they remained trapped in their comas. This time, however, students were being petrified, which wasn't the same thing. It was more like they were actually dead.

So she had later concluded that she was not the one behind the reopening of the Chamber of Secrets. Her blackouts were most likely the work of the Voice.

"I need it back," she muttered, looking around wildly. "He's the only one who understands..."

When Ginny found herself on the second floor near the abandoned bathroom once again, her eyes became transfixed by the ominous message on the wall.

Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.

It sounded like the sort of the thing that the Voice would say.

Hugging herself, she wondered what the message had meant, exactly. Who had been taken? Were they there now? Were they even still alive?

"Ginny."

She jumped, frightened into thinking for a moment that it was the voice speaking to her- but then she realized that the voice always sounded lower, more gravelly. This person's tone was far smoother, and somewhat soothing. She turned to see an older boy, smiling at her gently. Instinct told her who it was.

Smiling at him, she exclaimed, "Tom!"

Author's note: Hurrhurr. Only the prologue and already a cliffie? I just radiate evilness, don't I?

Welcome to my YGO/HP crossover! This idea came to me randomly one day, and once I started writing I just couldn't stop. Here's the thing: if you look at my profile, you'll see several unfinished stories and think, "Pfft. She ain't gonna finish this one."

UNTRUE! Because you see, it's already almost finished! I only have two or three chapters left before the story is complete. However, I'll be pacing my updates to about once every four or five days. Just cause I'm evil like that.

If you're wondering about romance: there aren't going to be any pairings in this story. Mostly just precursors to canon relationships, such as Harry/Ginny. Ginny/Bakura is NOT intended to be a pairing.

Hope you all enjoyed the prologue. Please review!