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Naruto: Uchiha Shiroge Rebellion
Hurried footsteps echoed through the empty corridor as the three brothers rushed toward the second floor, guarding the floating Ginny between them.
The usual playful grins were gone from Fred and George's faces, replaced by a tight mix of anxiety, anger, and grim determination.
Ron followed right behind them, panting hard, his mind a complete mess. All he could focus on was worry for his sister and confusion about what his brothers were doing.
They finally reached the door of the Care of Magical Creatures office.
Fred didn't even bother knocking—he just rammed it with his shoulder. The door wasn't locked and swung open instantly.
Inside, the office was bathed in warm light and carried the gentle scent of hay, herbs, and animal fur.
Viktor stood with his back to the door, studying a large illustrated book spread open on the desk. Tom on his shoulder lifted his head alertly.
At the sound of the door crashing open, Viktor turned around. When he saw the three breathless Weasley brothers and the floating figure wrapped tightly in magical bindings—with only Ginny's pale little face visible—his usual warm smile froze. A flash of shock crossed his blue-gray eyes.
"—Weasley gentlemen?" Viktor's gaze swept quickly over the three of them and settled on the unconscious Ginny, his brows drawing together slightly. "What is this?"
He immediately flicked his wand. The office door closed softly behind them and locked with a quiet click, cutting off any outside sight or sound.
"Come in."
Fred and George practically burst inside, carefully guiding the floating Ginny so she settled gently onto a thick, soft rug in the center of the room.
Ron came in last, shutting the door firmly behind him and leaning against it, chest heaving as he stared at his sister on the floor.
"Professor! It's Ginny! She—" Ron started urgently.
George cut him off, speaking fast but clearly.
"Professor, Ginny may have been affected by a very dangerous dark magical object! A talking diary! She found it in a second-hand book she bought in Diagon Alley before term started. She's been… chatting with it."
"She's had memory blackouts and what seems like sleepwalking episodes. After hearing your warning, she threw it away yesterday, but when she went back today to retrieve it, the diary was gone! She's terrified—she thinks she might be the one who released the monster!"
Fred added, his voice low and serious, "We were worried there might still be lingering effects on her, or that the thing had made her do something. We had no choice but to stun her and bind her for safety. Professor, that diary—it matches exactly the kind of thing you warned us about!"
Viktor listened, the gentle expression on his face fading rapidly into focused seriousness.
He crouched down, carefully examining Ginny's sleeping face with its faintly furrowed brow, then held his hand just above her forehead, seeming to sense something.
After a moment, he stood up, his expression grave.
"You did the right thing, gentlemen. In a situation like this, isolation and seeking expert help is the wisest choice." He gave them brief praise, then raised his wand without hesitation.
A soft but firm silver light flowed from the tip of his wand like liquid mercury, spreading quickly over Fred's magical binding strap and strengthening its glow.
"For absolute safety, I'm reinforcing the bindings."
At the same time, he waved his wand again.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Silver-white light burst from his wand like a surging spring, forming a Patronus completely enveloped in dense, almost solid silver-white mist.
Viktor whispered rapidly to the unique silver Patronus.
The Patronus immediately condensed into a sharp silver streak of light and shot through the wall and ceiling at incredible speed, vanishing from sight.
Then Viktor gently touched the tip of his wand to Ginny's temple, closed his eyes, and began chanting a low, ancient incantation.
A soft milky-white glow spread from the wand tip like a searchlight, slowly sweeping over Ginny's entire body from head to toe.
Wherever the light passed, faint, ominous dark ripples occasionally flickered—like silt stirring at the bottom of clear water.
Viktor's expression grew darker and darker as the examination continued.
His brows knitted tightly, his lips pressed into a thin line. The usual warmth in his presence was replaced by cold, heavy gravity.
The twins and Ron held their breath, hearts in their throats.
They had never seen Professor Viktor look this grim—not even when facing the most dangerous magical creatures.
The air in the office felt frozen. The only sounds were Tom's occasional uneasy tail flicks and Viktor's low chanting.
Finally, Viktor lowered his wand. The milky-white scanning light faded away.
He opened his eyes and looked at the three anxious brothers.
"Professor! How is Ginny?" all three asked at almost the same time, their voices thick with urgency and fear.
Viktor took a deep breath. His voice was steady but carried unmistakable seriousness.
"There are two main issues. First, parts of her memory have been skillfully modified and blocked—especially memories related to her contact with the diary and certain blank periods. They've become blurred and fragmented. This is likely the effect of a sophisticated Confundus Charm or memory-altering magic."
Seeing their faces turn deathly pale, he quickly added, "But the good news is, this modification is not irreversible permanent damage. With the help of a powerful Legilimens or a specialized memory healer, the hidden real memories can be sorted out and restored."
He paused, then continued, "Second, and more concerning—her life force and magic have been steadily, slowly drained."
"The amount isn't massive, but for a first-year witch, this kind of continuous 'blood loss' would leave her weakened, fatigued, with lowered resistance. It could cause fainting or unstable magic during moments of high emotion or heavy spell use."
Ron sucked in a sharp breath. Fred and George's fists clenched so hard their knuckles cracked.
"However," Viktor's tone softened slightly, offering a sliver of hope, "the damage from this draining can be reversed with careful potion treatment, proper nutrition, and a period of rest."
"Her magical core hasn't suffered permanent injury, and her life force will gradually recover on its own now that the draining source has been cut off. What she needs is time and the right care."
Hearing that Ginny's physical condition could recover, the three boys' tense nerves relaxed just a fraction. But the thought that their little sister had been viciously harmed for months without realizing it made fresh anger burn in their chests.
Just then, there was a sharp knock at the door.
Viktor strode over and opened it.
Outside stood Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall, both wearing exceptionally grave expressions. Dumbledore's blue eyes were sharp as a hawk behind his half-moon spectacles, and Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed so tightly her brows looked like they could crush a fly.
"Viktor—" Dumbledore began, but his voice cut off the moment he saw the bound Ginny lying on the rug.
He and McGonagall stepped inside quickly, their gazes locking onto the small red figure.
"Albus, Minerva," Viktor said heavily.
"The situation is worse than we feared. Miss Ginny Weasley is the one who was chosen. A suspected dark magical object—a talking diary. It influenced and partially controlled her for months, drained her life force and magic, and altered her memories. The diary is now missing."
Dumbledore and McGonagall's faces grew even graver.
McGonagall covered her mouth with her hand, eyes filled with shock and heartbreak.
Dumbledore walked slowly over to Ginny, crouched down, and studied her pale little face intently, as though his gaze could pierce through skin and see the dark marks left on her soul.
He stood up. Without hesitation, he raised his hand.
With a clear, ringing cry, a burst of brilliant gold-red flame bloomed in the office. Fawkes the phoenix appeared elegantly on Dumbledore's outstretched arm.
Dumbledore quickly pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, writing several lines at blinding speed. He rolled it up, tied it with a thin golden cord, and held it out to Fawkes.
"Take this to Arthur and Molly immediately, Fawkes. Tell them it is urgent and concerns Ginny's safety. Ask them to come to Hogwarts at once through you."
Fawkes took the scroll in his beak, threw back his head with a short, ringing cry, and vanished in a burst of fierce flame, leaving only a few drifting gold-red feathers behind.
The office fell into brief, heavy silence, broken only by the crackling of the fireplace.
The twins and Ron watched Dumbledore and McGonagall tensely, then looked at Viktor, and finally back at their sister, hearts filled with anxiety about their parents' arrival and burning anger at the unknown danger.
A moment later, two figures stepped out of a swirling burst of sparks, looking slightly unsteady. It was Arthur and Molly Weasley.
Arthur's usual kind smile was gone, replaced by deep anxiety and confusion. His eyes darted around the room behind his glasses.
Molly's face was deathly pale. The moment she appeared, her gaze locked onto the bound Ginny on the floor, and she let out a choked cry. "Ginny! My baby!"
She almost lunged forward, but Dumbledore gently yet firmly stopped her.
"Molly, Arthur, please stay calm. Ginny is currently in a protected unconscious state for her own safety. We need to understand the situation first."
Viktor stepped forward and gave the Weasleys a concise summary of what he had told the twins and Ron, emphasizing the memory modification, life force draining, and the terrifying possibility that the diary was a Horcrux.
At the words "memory modification" and "life force draining," Arthur's face lost all color. Molly swayed on her feet and was caught by her husband. Tears flooded her eyes as overwhelming fear and heartbreak consumed her.
"Who— who would do this to my little girl—" Molly's voice trembled with a mother's fierce anger and pain.
"We suspect it is a terrible dark magical object," Dumbledore said gravely.
"To confirm this and understand exactly what Ginny went through—and what the diary's purpose was—we will need to examine her altered memories. We need your permission, Arthur, Molly."
Arthur and Molly looked at each other. Their eyes held pain and struggle, but far more concern for their daughter's safety and a desperate need for the truth.
Arthur gripped his wife's trembling hand tightly, took a deep breath, and nodded firmly at Dumbledore.
"We give our consent, Albus. Please… please find out what happened and save our Ginny."
"I will do everything I can," Dumbledore promised solemnly. He turned to the twins and Ron.
"Fred, George, Ron. You did very well—brave and decisive. But what comes next requires even more careful handling. Please leave the office now and return to your common room. Act as normal."
"Remember, say nothing to anyone about Ginny or the diary—not even to your other brothers. This is to protect Ginny and to protect Hogwarts."
Though the twins and Ron desperately wanted to stay—especially seeing their parents' grief and their unconscious sister—they understood how serious this was.
George clenched his jaw. Fred gave a heavy nod. Ron's eyes were red as he took one last look at Ginny before silently following his brothers out of Viktor's office.
The door closed softly behind them, sealing off the room.
Inside, only the five adults and the sleeping young witch remained.
Dumbledore moved to the center of the room and traced a complex pattern in the air with his wand.
Silver light gathered and flowed, forming the shadowy outline of an ancient stone basin a little over a meter above the floor. The shadow quickly solidified into a Pensieve that glowed with soft pearly light and settled gently onto a sturdy side table beside Viktor's desk.
Then Dumbledore touched the tip of his old wand to Ginny's temple once more.
He closed his eyes, chanting an ancient and mysterious incantation.
This time, instead of a scanning white light, thin silver threads were drawn from the wand tip.
The threads were somewhat dim and uneven—sometimes clear, sometimes blurry, with places that looked knotted or simply broken.
They twisted as if alive, carefully guided by Dumbledore until they all sank into the Pensieve's surface, which looked like liquid moonlight.
The silver substance inside the Pensieve began to swirl slowly, rippling.
Dumbledore, McGonagall, Viktor, and the Weasleys—who were huddled tightly together—gathered around the Pensieve. They exchanged one grave look, then all leaned forward, faces close to the rippling silver surface.
Their consciousness was instantly drawn inside.
Above the Pensieve, silver mist churned and coalesced. Disjointed but clear scenes began to emerge like an old film—
Ginny curled up in bed, curtains drawn, the only light coming from the weak glow of "Lumos" at the tip of her wand.
A black-covered, very old-looking diary lay open in front of her.
She chewed the end of her quill, hesitated, then wrote on the blank page.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
The words slowly faded. A moment later, elegant, flowing handwriting—completely different from Ginny's—appeared.
"Hello. I am Tom Riddle. Who are you?"
The scene shifted abruptly.
Ginny in various corners of the castle—behind secluded library shelves, in empty classrooms, even in the broom cupboard—secretly writing in the diary.
Her expression changed from curious and excited to dependent and confiding.
The handwriting in the diary always kept that elegant, strangely compelling tone, patiently responding and occasionally "sharing" some "Hogwarts secrets" or "interesting magic."
Ginny's figure looked stiff, her eyes blank as she clutched the black diary tightly.
She hid behind a bush, staring at the lights of Hagrid's hut, motionless—as if waiting for something, or like a puppet following instructions.
The scene blurred.
Ginny stood in the clearing outside Hagrid's hut. Bright feathers were scattered around her. The hem of her robes and her hands were spotted with dark, dried blood.
Her eyes regained some focus, but they were filled with confusion and faint fear. She looked down at her hands, then at Hagrid's closed door in the distance, before turning and stumbling away.
A long-abandoned girls' bathroom with exposed pipes and a dry sink.
Ginny stood in front of a sink carved with serpentine reliefs.
The scene shifted again. This time she held the diary as if it were a red-hot brand. Her face was streaked with tears, eyes filled with utter terror and resistance. Her lips moved in a silent scream.
Finally, with all her strength, she hurled the diary into the abandoned room.
Ginny collapsed to the floor, covering her face and sobbing.
At this point the images began to fluctuate and shatter violently. Silver mist churned as Ginny's suppressed and altered memories formed strong resistance and chaos, preventing any clearer or more coherent images from being extracted.
The five of them were pulled back from the Pensieve into the reality of the office.
Silence.
A suffocating silence.
Only Molly's suppressed, heartbroken sobs and Arthur's heavy breathing could be heard.
Dumbledore straightened slowly. Every line on his face seemed etched with deep weariness and icy fury.
His blue eyes no longer held their usual twinkling spark—only cold sharpness and heavy resolve.
"The second-floor abandoned girls' bathroom," he said quietly, his voice cutting clearly through the silence, "is very likely the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets."
At Dumbledore's words, McGonagall drew in a sharp breath, and Viktor's eyes sharpened like blades.
The Weasleys clung tightly to each other, gripped by terror and rage at how close their daughter had come to such horror.
"We must find that diary," Dumbledore said, his voice like iron.
"Before it finds its next 'friend'—or uses the power it drained from Ginny to do something even worse."
His gaze swept over everyone and finally settled on Viktor.
"Viktor, I need you and Minerva to immediately begin the most discreet search of the entire school. Focus on that bathroom and every suspicious corner. Also strengthen security and patrols around the Battle Royale arena. It's crowded and could be a target."
"Arthur, Molly, Ginny needs the most careful protection and treatment right away. I will contact experts from St. Mungo's, but until then, she will be safer here at Hogwarts under Madam Pomfrey and Viktor's care. I will have Severus prepare restorative potions."
He paused, his gaze turning toward the deepening twilight outside the window, as if he could see through the walls to the black diary hidden somewhere in the castle, radiating its ominous presence.
"Tom Riddle—" Dumbledore spoke the name softly, like an ancient curse.
The fireplace flames flickered uneasily, casting the group's shadows on the wall like crouching beasts.