The Forbidden Forest loomed, shadows twisting under the faint light of the full moon. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and decay, but Alexander, hidden beneath a Disillusionment Charm, hardly noticed. Ginny's small hands - his hands - worked deftly, taking chunks of raw meat from a satchel he'd pilfered from the kitchens.
The meat glistened, dark and wet, as he tossed a piece forward. Almost instantly, an unseen jaw snapped it from the air, tendons tearing with wet, guttural sounds. Alexander couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at his lips. To him, the Thestrals were fully visible. Thin, skeletal creatures with leathery wings and deep, sorrowful eyes. They edged closer, their hunger palpable and he revelled in the contrast between their eerie elegance and the terror they would inspire in most who could see them.
Most people would see an invisible entity throw chunks of meat, that appeared from nowhere, into the empty air, only to watch it shred itself and disappear. He smirked at the thought, a flicker of amusement about the magical absurdity.
A nudge at his lap drew his gaze downward. The baby Thestral, delicate and awkward, rested there, nuzzling at him with a soft huff. Ginny's - or rather, his - fingers glided over its thin, skeletal neck, feeling the soft ridges of its bones beneath fragile skin. Its leathery wings, small and underdeveloped, twitched at his touch. A sense of fleeting peace washed over him, something unfamiliar, almost foreign.
The adult Thestrals pressed closer, a silent herd whose skeletal forms betrayed their quiet power. Alexander let his fingers trail over the baby's spine, his mind slipping to the ritual ahead. It was a calculated gamble, a necessary step toward escaping the diary's void. There was no other way.
"Beautiful," he murmured to the baby Thestral, his voice barely audible over the sounds of tearing flesh. "And most people just see you as monsters."
As Alexander stroked the baby Thestral's bony neck, its leathery wings gave a soft, involuntary flutter - a fragile thing seeking comfort. He tilted his head to observe the creature fully. Its hollow eyes stared back, not in judgment, but in a kind of understanding that made his chest ache.
"How can I see you?" he murmured, more to himself than to the baby Thestral. Was it Alexander's own past life? He had no memory of seeing death firsthand, but there was Tom Riddle's memories… he had killed Myrtle after all.
He shook the thoughts aside, forcing his mind back into its cold, calculated rhythm. Dwelling too deeply on such questions would only lead to doubt and doubt was dangerous. Instead, he focused on the baby Thestral. He ran a finger along its thin spine, marvelling at how something so eerie could feel so alive.
"You're really misunderstood, aren't you?" he said softly, gazing into the creature's empty eyes. It tilted its head slightly, as if acknowledging him. He chuckled, the sound of Ginny's voice hollow, devoid of any real amusement.
When Alexander had first ventured into the Forbidden Forest, his intentions were clear. Stun a Thestral, collect its blood and leave. Simple. He'd prepared a vial for the blood, untouched by sentiment. But when the creatures had emerged from the shadows, his plan faltered.
Instead of fleeing or attacking, the Thestrals had approached him with cautious curiosity. One had nudged him with its bony head, its leathery wings shifting with an almost gentle rustle. Another had pressed closer, seeking affection, its hollow eyes meeting his. Alexander had frozen, wand half-raised. Their thin, skeletal frames should have repelled him, but instead, he was struck by their quiet dignity.
He couldn't do it. The spell remained uncast, his resolve dissolving under the weight of their presence. How ironic. He was fine with killing a little girl but couldn't bring himself to harm this creatures.
Now, seated in the same clearing under the shroud of disillusionment, he tossed the last chunk of meat toward the herd. The Thestrals snapped at it eagerly, their sharp teeth tearing through flesh with practiced ease. He watched them feed, his thoughts wandering.
"People see you as evil," he said softly, his voice barely audible over the faint sounds of crunching bone. "But you're just ruthless when you need to be."
Alexander hadn't intended to visit them repeatedly, but he'd found himself drawn back again and again. Each visit, he brought meat, feeding the herd and lingering in their silent company. They didn't judge, didn't pry.
Here, he didn't have to focus on manipulating Ginny, weaving lies or piecing together the complex structure of his ritual. Here, in the company of the Thestrals, he could breathe.
As Alexander watched the Thestrals feed, the weight of the night settled into his bones. His plan, his ritual, it all hinged on one thing: Their blood. The blood of these creatures would be the key to his freedom.
'I need the blood,' he reminded himself, his mind slipping into the cold precision that had become second nature. He had spent weeks in the Room of Requirement, alone with the books the room provided, consuming knowledge on souls, soul magic and soul energy. There had been nothing else. No distraction, no human connection, just the endless pursuit of knowledge.
He would possess Ginny the moment she fell asleep - her unprotected mind easily subdued by his - and then, cloaked in the Disillusionment Charm, he would slip away, unnoticed. The Marauder's Map, stolen from the Weasley twins on the second night in Hogwarts, would make sure he wasn't caught. Ginny would wake the next morning, maybe a little tired but none the wiser, believing the missing hours to be nothing more than sleep time.
The Room of Requirement had been his sanctuary, a place where the world outside ceased to exist. He had asked for texts - texts on everything connected to souls and rituals.
The moonstone was tucked carefully into the bag slung across his shoulder. He had taken it from Snape's portion cabinet, unnoticed, like everything else he needed. Its surface was smooth, cold, just waiting for the right moment.
And tonight, under the full moon, that moment would arrive. The moonstone would be inscribed with runes in Thestral blood, creating an artifact that could store soul energy for the first step of his three-step ritual.
In principle, the idea of the ritual was simple. A modified version of the Horcrux creation ritual would sever the soul energy that connects Ginny's soul to her body, transferring it to the diary. Meanwhile, a variation of the Horcrux reversal ritual would anchor Alexander's soul to Ginny's body. The puzzle that occupied him during his time in the diary was where to find the soul energy necessary to connect his soul to Ginny's body. That's where the soul stone - moonstone inscribed with Thestral blood runes - came into play.
The Horcrux creation ritual required a human sacrifice. In the first step - the modified Horcrux creation ritual - he would take the soul energy from the sacrifice and store it in the soul stone. Then, with Ginny's soul imprisoned in the diary, he would use the stored soul energy to anchor his soul to Ginny's body through the modified Horcrux reversal ritual.
"Please," he whispered softly to the Thestrals, his - Ginny's - voice steady but with a tinge of desperation. He had never asked them for anything before. "Please, I need some blood from you. I don't want to harm you, but it is extremely important to me."
The herd paused, their hollow eyes watching him and for a moment, Alexander wondered if they understood. But then the leader stepped forward, its skeletal form looming over him. The creature's wings fluttered, the thin, leathery skin stretching with a movement that seemed to convey acceptance.
His breath caught in his throat. The leader stood still, expectant, as if it knew exactly what was to come.
Carefully, Alexander reached out with Ginny's wand. He made a shallow cut on the leader's bony torso with a brief flick of the wrist. The blood that pooled was black and viscous, thicker than he'd expected, but it came without resistance. He carefully collected the blood in a vial, watching as the dark liquid swirled inside.
When he was finished, he closed the wound with another flick of Ginny's wand, the skin sealing seamlessly as though nothing had happened. The Thestral stood still, watching, its eyes never leaving him.
"Thank you," he whispered as the herd began to move away.
As the Thestrals began to leave, a sudden rustle in the trees drew Alexander's attention. His eyes flickered toward the shadows at the edge of the clearing. The eerie, low growls of the forest filled the air as the herd grew still, their once gentle demeanour suddenly tense. Alexander's senses sharpened and it was then that he saw them.
Eight eyes gleamed in the dark, three sets of them reflecting the pale moonlight. Three Acromantulas had arrived.
Their massive forms loomed in the shadows, their long, hairy legs moving with a disturbing grace. Alexander's pulse quickened, but he stood his ground. He wasn't about to let anything threaten the Thestral herd - not now, not when they were helping him to finally get a body of his own.
He raised Ginny's wand. "Stupefy," he whispered, and the first Acromantula dropped to the ground, its legs flailing uselessly as it fell limp.
Before the others could react, he muttered the binding spell, his wand flicking with practiced ease. "Incarcerous." Thick, invisible ropes shot from the tip, wrapping around the second spider, pinning it to the ground. A second "Stupefy," brought the final Acromantula down.
The herd of Thestrals remained frozen, watching with eerie silence, but Alexander's focus was entirely on the threat before him. He watched, his heart still thudding in his chest, as the spiders lay motionless at his feet, bound and stunned.
The chief Thestral, the one who had led the group and given its blood so freely, stepped forward once more. Its hollow eyes met Ginny's. Then, in a strange gesture of recognition, the creature raised its tail and swung it gently towards him. A single strand of tail hair floated softly on the ground before Ginny's feet.
The Thestral stared at him for a long moment, its gaze heavy, before it gave a soft snort, turned and began to move away. The rest of the herd followed, their wings rustling like the faintest whisper in the night, before they lifted off the ground and soared into the sky, disappearing into the darkness of the forest.
For a moment, the clearing was silent. Just Alexander and the three Acromantulas, their massive forms visible in the moonlight - the bound spider still struggling against the ropes. He let out a breath, the weight of the moment pressing on him. The ritual was still far from complete, but the pieces were falling into place.
Then an idea stirred in his mind.
He glanced at the Acromantulas. Poison from these creatures could be just the tool he needed. It was well known that their venom was capable of destroying all magical traces within a body. If he used it to destroy the evidence of his human sacrifice... the murder would be blamed on the spiders. There would be no traces, no magical evidence of the ritual. It would be the perfect diversion.
A cruel smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He couldn't resist the thought of outsmarting the world around him.
"Perfect," he muttered to himself.
With a flick of Ginny's wand, he conjured three cages, their delicate, translucent frames shimmering in the moonlight. Each spider was levitated into its new confinement and with another wave, he cast a Stasis charm on them, freezing them in place, motionless and silent. The cages were then cloaked by an Invisibility Spell.
Now, he needed to store them safely, far from prying eyes. The Chamber of Secrets seemed the perfect place. He'd have to inform the basilisk, somehow, that the Acromantulas were off-limits - that they were not its meal.
He planned to store the soul stone in the Chamber of Secrets anyways, as it was the ideal location for the ritual. But now, as he stood there in the dark of the Forbidden Forest, he remembered the most pressing task: The runes. He needed to inscribe them onto the moonstone in Thestral blood, under the full moon's light, and he was standing right in its silver glow.
This was as good a place as any.
Carefully Alexander took the moonstone from Ginny's bag, its smooth surface cool against his palms. He had already cast several spells, ensuring Ginny's eyes would see enough in dim moonlight. The runes needed to be perfect, their lines drawn in blood, precise and meticulous.
He murmured the first incantation, Ginny's wand trembling slightly as he etched the first rune into the moonstone's surface. The blood pooled in thin lines, an eerie, almost sentient thing as it followed his commands. His breath slowed, his focus tightening as he continued, rune after rune, until the stone was covered in intricate symbols, their glow faint but unmistakable. The task was delicate and though he had practiced in the Room of Requirement, it was still nerve-wracking.
The blood had dried and with a last, steady stroke, he completed the final rune. He stared down at the soul stone, feeling a surge of cold satisfaction. It was done. The first part of his plan was in place.
With a careful, almost reverent motion, he slipped the moonstone - now too under the Stasis charm - back into his bag and turned around.
He lifted Ginny's wand and muttered a quiet incantation. The three invisible cages, still containing the Acromantulas, floated obediently behind him, their forms undetectable in the night. Alexander moved swiftly through the forest, his steps careful and deliberate. As he passed the tree line, a faint unease twisted in his stomach - likely the subconscious fear of being seen - but he pressed on. He soon reached a hidden entrance near Hagrid's hut, an ancient, forgotten passageway that descended deep beneath the school, leading to the Chamber of Secrets.
Several weeks passed. During this time, Alexander worked tirelessly, honing every detail of the ritual he now called the Ritual of Rebirth. The intricate pattern of Arithmantic symbols and rune circles he would soon draw in the Chamber of Secrets took shape in his mind, each symbol drawn in blood necessary for the ritual's success.
Every night, after Ginny fell asleep, he would possess her body, slipping unseen through the halls of Hogwarts to the Room of Requirement. There, he spent hours studying, learning the spells necessary for his ritual, with a particular focus on Fatum Sentiens - a spell created by Tom Riddle to invoke remorse. It was crucial for the Horcrux reversal ritual he intended to perform, designed to manipulate and bind a soul to a body. And so, he continued to perfect each part, focused and relentless, until everything was ready.
During this time, as always in Ginny's day-to-day life, Alexander subtly guided her actions, ensuring she excelled academically and socially. He pushed her to stay at the top of her classes, acing every test with ease, while also maintaining her position as a popular, well-liked student. To anyone watching, Ginny seemed like a naturally gifted young witch, but in reality it was just Alexander's manipulation at work. He knew that, when the time came for him to fully take over her body, he couldn't afford to start from scratch. By fostering a perfect reputation now, he wouldn't have to hide his talents or play the part of an ordinary, inexperienced student when he finally assumed control.
The main hall of the Chamber was awash in dim, eerie light, casting shadows that twisted across the ancient serpentine carvings lining the walls. The air hung heavy with a sense of foreboding, carrying the coppery tang of fresh blood. Alexander, nestled within Ginny Weasley's body, knelt on the cold stone floor, carefully completing the final strokes of his masterpiece.
Intricate Arithmantic symbols and rune circles sprawled across the ground, each drawn in Ginny's blood. It had taken many litres to create the array, but Alexander had come prepared, stealing blood-replenishing potions from the infirmary to ensure his future body would remain unharmed.
He stepped back for a moment, wiping the sweat from Ginny's brow and admired his work. The lines and curves gleamed wetly in the dim light. The thought of all his planning and sacrifices finally paying off filled him with a giddy rush.
'It's all falling into place,' he thought, his lips curling into a small, triumphant smile. 'Years of waiting, endless manipulation - it's all been worth it. Soon, I'll be free.'
As he resumed his work, meticulously etching the last few runes into place, his thoughts turned to the final step: The human sacrifice. The ritual demanded compatible soul energy and the best candidate would be a witch of similar age to Ginny. His mind flitted through the possibilities.
Her roommates... Mira, Daisy and Emily.
Mira came to mind first. She'd been irritating recently. Through Daisy as a Muggle-born might be more convenient, since the ministry would care less about her. But he really didn't care much either way.
The air around him shifted suddenly, growing colder, heavier. A deep, rumbling hiss echoed through the cavernous hall, followed by the sinuous glide of scales against stone. Emerging from the shadows, the basilisk slithered forward, her massive, emerald-scaled form coiling with a predator's grace. Her yellow-green eyes glimmered with curiosity, fixed on Ginny's diminutive figure.
"What is the silly human doing here?" she asked, her voice a soft, amused hiss that reverberated through the hall. "And when can I finally eat those spiders you caught for me, mistress?"
Alexander froze for the briefest moment, the title sending an unexpected thrill coursing through him. Mistress. It was a word he would never tire of hearing from her, though he kept his face impassive.
"I'm completing the ritual," he said evenly, continuing to work on the edges of the array. "It's almost done. Once it's complete, I'll fully take over this body and escape the constraints of that blasted diary. As for the Acromantulas... I told you, they're not for eating. You'll have to hunt your own."
The basilisk tilted her massive head, her expression unreadable. "Stupid human mistress won't let me have the delicious spiders," she muttered, her tongue flicking out in irritation.
Then, with a curious tilt of her head, she added, "but why this body, mistress? A hatchling's form? Why not one more suited to your strength? More powerful. Why be so weak?"
Alexander's precise movements faltered for a moment, her question cutting through his euphoria. Annoyance prickled at the edges of his mind. 'She wouldn't understand.'
"It's... a human thing," he said curtly, forcing his tone to remain calm though his irritation seeped through. "You wouldn't understand."
The basilisk stared at him for a long moment before letting out a huff, her disappointment clear. "Humans are strange creatures," she said simply. "I'll go hunt in the forest, then."
Without waiting for a response, she turned and slithered back into the darkness, her massive form disappearing into the shadows.
Alexander exhaled sharply, regaining his focus. With the last rune etched into place, he stepped back to inspect the completed array. The blood-soaked symbols gleamed faintly, radiating a quiet, menacing power.
Satisfied with his work, Alexander stood in the centre of the vast chamber, letting his eyes roam over the completed array one last time. The blood-soaked symbols and runes glimmered faintly in the dim light.
Hallowe'en was only a week away. He smiled to himself, a flicker of anticipation lighting his expression. The night would be ideal for the ritual, not for dramatic flair but because of its profound magic. On Samhain and the preceding night, Hallowe'en, both soul magic and sacrificial magic reached their peak potency, promising exceptional results for his planned ritual.
Magic associated with death and divination also surged on this day, giving rise to the belief that the veil between the living and the dead was at its thinnest. This might explain why Voldemort selected Hallowe'en to assault the Potters, aiming to create his final Horcrux with Harry's death. Ironically, the magic of the night also intensified Lily Potter's sacrificial protection, sealing Voldemort's downfall. It likely amplified the prophecy's power as well, though this was just Alexander's speculation.
Historically, Samhain was a time for numerous sacrificial rituals, often involving animals, but occasionally humans too. This led the Ministry to attempt to suppress Samhain celebrations entirely - even those innocent gatherings around bonfires - promoting the Muggle holiday of Hallowe'en in its place to dilute the ancient magical practices.
Everything he'd planned was coming together with exquisite precision. Placing a hand on Ginny's chest, he felt the steady rhythm of her borrowed heartbeat. His voice was soft, almost reverent, as he murmured "Soon, this body will be mine."
With that, he turned toward the hidden entrance that led back to Hogwarts, his steps echoing softly in the cavernous space. Behind him, the intricate blood-red patterns waited, brimming with dark promise, ready to bring his ambition to fruition.