Every human being, rationalist or not, has a reservoir in their brain where disbelief is suspended. If too much disbelief flows into that reservoir too quickly, it will burst and the brain will scramble to recreate its picture of reality from scratch. This is why, for example, a secret evil overlord who should already be the target of suspicion should not orchestrate plots that immediately appear absurd; dazzling absurd plots are only for situations where it is certain that they could not point back at oneself even vaguely. (See also: the Hogwarts third-floor corridor, 1992-06-13.)

However, the reservoir may also be burst gradually, not by rapid addition of unbelievable things in succession, but by slow addition of them, over the course of a year or a lifetime. In late March, 1993, that was happening to Ginevra Weasley; the tipping point was probably when, following Professor Sprout's untimely and horrific demise, Ginny felt strangely unwholesome, on top of simply feeling un-whole. The strange damage to Ginny – she seemed to feel it in her soul – was slowly healing, but she decided that to simply ignore and it let it heal would be malignantly stupid, so she opted to uncache some thoughts, beginning with I should speak more with Hermione instead of giving into my Ugh Curses and avoiding her. She opted to meet with Hermione after breakfast one Saturday. Hermione didn't make nearly so much of a pretense of being busy as Harry did.

"I just wanted to talk to you about the odd things that have been going on this year," said Ginny.

"There have certainly been a lot of them," said Hermione. "Harry hasn't been bothering you, has he?"

"Well..." said Ginny. "He got kind of aggressive about the whole religion thing for a couple of months, but he started to get quieter and more distant several weeks ago, and since the attack on the greenhouse, he's just been entirely withdrawn. He's even been missing meetings and having Blaise fill in for him, and it's just not the same? Blaise even read Harry's eulogy for Lesath. But mostly I wonder what Harry's up to."

"I've noticed that, too," said Hermione. "I have to be honest, I know some confidential details about what he's doing, and I can't tell you about them. But I don't even know what's been occupying him lately. He does still talk to me, but he absolutely refuses to discuss how he's spending most of his time, now. He says he'll probably tell me in a few months. I've seen some strange orders he's been filling. Odd business at the Hospital. I don't know what any of it is, though. But even if I did, I couldn't tell you."

"Huh," said Ginny. That was quite something. "That is fascinating. And probably very good news. The last couple of times Harry was up to something strange, it destroyed Azkaban and established the Peverell Family Hospital."

"The difference is that I was heavily involved in both of those things," said Hermione. "I have no idea what this is."

"All of that isn't actually what I wanted to talk to you about," said Ginny.

"Oh," said Hermione. "What is it, then? Your Patronus?"

"Oh, um, I don't have one," said Ginny. "Gave it my best shot but I guess I didn't figure out the riddle." Hermione smiled, perhaps inviting Ginny to proceed as though she hadn't asked the question. "Everything just seems wrong, lately, Hermione. To me personally, as if I'm missing something big. Not something big about the problem everyone's facing, but about the problems I'm facing, personally. Can I tell you something really secret and can you promise not to tell anyone?"

"Sure?" said Hermione, and as Hermione was thinking wait, what if it's a security concern?, Ginny was thinking what, what if she feels she has to tell people anyway because it's a security concern?

"Um, never mind," said Ginny. "What should I do if I suspect I'm being regularly Obliviated? I feel like I have big holes in my memory and my thought processes get clogged up with clouds of fog that I don't think originate from my own faulty brain."

"Oh!" said Hermione. "Harry actually taught me a pretty neat trick for this. Turns out it's useless for me because of my Sparkly Unicorn Princess powers but it should work just fine for you. If you suspect you're going to be Obliviated soon, covertly bite the inside of your lip really hard; so hard that you'll leave scar tissue for a long time. Commit to memory a long, long time in advance that if you've bitten the inside of your lip like that and don't remember doing it, you've been Obliviated. Occasionally it'll give a false positive, because humans do occasionally bite their lips in their sleep or something like that, but it should at least grant you a degree of protection."

"Brilliant," was all Ginny could say.

"It's very worrisome if you suspect you're being Obliviated, though, Ginny," said Hermione. "That's very worrisome for anyone – particularly a young girl. And that's on top of all of the other strange things that have been going on. You were one of the suspects after Professor Sprout was killed, weren't you?"

"Yes, but I was cleared," said Ginny. "I was just in the bathroom." The truth was that she had woken up in the bathroom, with a vague recollection that she had fallen asleep there, but she had realized long ago that telling anyone this would be simply disastrous.

"Alright," said Hermione, just as worried as she had been seconds ago, if not moreso. "Also, if possible – which it likely won't be – try to leave some record of what you expect to be Obliviated of, somewhere where you expect to find it."

"That's actually very convenient," said Ginny. "Thanks for pointing it out."

"No problem," said Hermione. "But if you don't mind, could you give me more specifics on why you're suspicious of your perceptions?"

"I do mind," said Ginny. "It's very private."

"Private means a lot less in times like this," said Hermione. "People are dying, anywhere and without warning."

"Didn't you read Harry's first Method of December?" said Ginny. "'On Civil Liberties and Terrorism'?"

"Yes, I did, as a matter of fact," said Hermione, "and Harry was speaking of cases like Lesath Lestrange, who were investigated and hurt without anything even mistakable for evidence. Not saying that people should hold back in finding the actual offender. This is no time or context for fooling around; what did you notice?"

"It's just some cached thoughts I need to attend to," said Ginny.

"Cached thoughts can kill people, Ginevra," said Hermione. "What kind of cached thoughts are they?"

"Well, talking to you, for one," said Ginny. "I realized a long time ago that talking to you was a good idea because of how wise and conscientious and so on you are. But I kept putting it off because I was jealous of you." Hermione seemed to assume this was flattery, and looked distinctly unimpressed. "And also, Draco."

"Draco Malfoy?" said Hermione. "He's courting you, isn't he?"

"Yes," said Ginny. "And frankly, it all seems too good to be true. I've been meaning to test him for love potions; all I've gotten round to yet is Amortentia, because that one's such an easy test because its effects are so extreme."

"He likes you too much?" said Hermione. Ginny nodded. "Ginny, that's stupid; you're hiding something, and poorly."

"Um, no?" said Ginny. "I'm not?" The truth was that Ginny absolutely was hiding something, but that didn't mean she was exaggerating about Draco. "He really is acting weird; I tolerate it because I like it, but that doesn't mean it isn't weird. Out-of-character, even."

"Anything else?" said Hermione.

"Nothing of importance," said Ginny.

"Anything else?" said Hermione, much more pointedly.

"Just that I've more or less forgotten entirely about a lot of the predictions Luna's made and told me about," said Ginny.

"Oh," said Hermione, "you can probably ignore that. Divination is a bunch of pseudomagic, it's barely any more effective than the Muggle kind that amounts to random number generators and con art. Rarely ever rationally actionable because the source of magic is so intent on playing tricks on people."

"Technically, it's against my religion," said Ginny, "but the liberalized interpretation is that that only refers to the Muggle kind, since it's dishonest. A scam instead of a science."

"Wizard Divination isn't a science, either," said Hermione. "Luna's variety least of all."

"Maybe," said Ginny.

At the scheduled time, Ginny arrived at Draco's room, and entered using the knock Draco had shown her.

"Ginny!" said Draco. "What are those?" He was obviously looking at a small medicine bottle Ginny was holding; he snapped his fingers and Dobby disappeared from the room.

"Some pills I got from Madam Pomfrey," said Ginny. "I'm testing you." Draco was taken aback.

"Testing me for what, exactly?" said Draco.

"Love potions," said Ginny.

"This again?" said Draco.

"Yes, this again," said Ginny. "It's like Luna said. If the world around you seems too good to be true, then you're still in the mirror. And you seem too good to be true, so I'm trying to figure out which mirror I'm still in."

"Luna's rubbing off on you," said Draco. Ginny half-sneezed, and passed nine large pills – three light blue, three dark blue, and three yellow – to Draco, each of which radiated nausea.

"Here goes," said Draco. "If this is what it takes to prove it to you."

"You don't have to prove anything to me, Draco," said Ginny. "I'm proving things to myself." One by one, Draco swallowed the pills, and within minutes, they reappeared in Ginny's hand, each with a horizontal green line on them.

"Alright..." said Ginny. "Good, good, good... good... You're clean. There's still of course the possibility of Legilimency or an Imperius or simply evil plotting to explain your behavior..."

"Might I ask why you're so suspicious of my behavior all of a sudden?" said Draco.

"Oh, Draco," said Ginny. "I feel that something's very, very wrong with my life, and I have no idea what that is. So I'm approaching the problem systematically. Burning every possibility at the roots."

"A grim metaphor, considering the circumstances," said Draco. "Have you considered that the problem might be Harry? He's been acting odder and odder lately."

"Well... I have," said Ginny. "Probably not enough, but I have. But what would I do about that? Harry is absolutely impenetrable, Draco. He's unapproachable, especially when he wants to be. If he's keeping secrets from me, I am absolutely not going to figure them out until he wants me to. I trust he has my best interests at heart."

"But you don't trust that I do?" said Draco.

"Well, let's face it," said Ginny. "I think I love you, but I have no idea what your motivation is. What drives you? What's your goal in this story?"

"Well, first, to survive," said Draco. "That's harder than it should be at Hogwarts lately. The Monster could be anywhere at any time, and no one really knows what's going on."

"Exactly," said Ginny.

"Second, to forget," said Draco. "I want to put the past behind me."

"But why?" said Ginny. "Who would ever want to forget anything?"

"Well, I mean metaphorically forget," said Draco.

"What does that even mean?" said Ginny, raising her voice in the tradition of the Great Interrobang of Oz. Draco stopped, and put his hand over his mouth contemplatively, before speaking.

"It means I want to have something happier to think about instead," said Draco. "A place or person to escape to."

"I'm so sorry," said Ginny. "I wasn't really considering your perspective sufficiently. Or anyone's, really. Paranoia-"

"Third – and this should really have been second. So, first and a half," said Draco, "I want to protect as many people as possible from whatever it is that's going on at Hogwarts lately. I had a feeling this would be a bad year before the threats were even issued. That's why Professor Lockhart is employed here." Ginny nodded.

"What?" asked Ginny.

"That's why he's employed here?" said Draco. "Because I contacted him to protect us? I've told you this before, I'm sure."

"I don't believe so," said Ginny. Draco appeared troubled by this.

"Tim told me that Gilderoy Lockhart could protect us from the trouble brewing at Hogwarts," said Draco.

"I'm not sure if I trust Tim," said Ginny. "Has he ever possessed you?"

"You've asked me this before," said Draco. Ginny was growing impatient. Not with Draco specifically; more with whatever force was making a riddle out of her life.

"And what did you say then?" asked Ginny.

"I let Tim possess me so he could speak to Lockhart, to persuade him to come to Hogwarts," said Draco.

"That sounds bad," said Ginny. "Very, very bad."

"But I did it to protect you," said Draco. "You and everyone. And you've got to admit that he's the best replacement for Monroe we could get."

"It just... it doesn't make sense, Draco!" said Ginny. "Something isn't right." But Ginny was already beginning to calm down, because her mind's model of Tim was telling her that she should appreciate the present more, because she never knew when everything might change. She didn't know if she'd remember this moment in years or even days, so, she figured, she should make the most of it.

"Maybe..." said Draco.

"Let's talk about something else," said Ginny.

When Luna was permitted to leave the Infirmary (not long after she was admitted), she was crying. But soon, Ginny appeared, which helped to soak up some of her tears – literally, of course; Luna cried directly into Ginny's robes. Ginny tried to calm Luna down, and finally began asking questions.

"Luna, thank God you're alright," said Ginny. "I've heard a lot of conflicting stories; what happened?"

"I was having – tea," started Luna. "With Marietta Edgecombe."

"Go on," said Ginny. "Tell me everything."

"Impossible," said Luna. "But anyway, I was baking those fortune cookies I showed you a few months ago."

"They don't work very well," said Ginny, and she immediately wondered why she'd said it. An attempt to lighten the mood? What an awful attempt.

"Yes, they do!" said Luna. "I opened mine, and the fortune was 'Run.' So I did, and I told Marietta to run too, but she must have thought I was just having a fit or something. But I could hear something coming, so I hid, and I could feel the Basilisk drawing near, and Marietta couldn't get away, and she was petrified."

"Reversibly?" said Ginny.

"Of course, but it's still awful," said Luna. "Not to mention that I think they're covering something up about the Potions of Reanimation. I think it's going to be longer than they're saying before the people can be restored. I didn't finish my story. I'm crouched in an uncomfortable position in the cabinet, hoping that the Basilisk will go away, when I hear a human voice, and it's unrecognizable because it's been deepened. And it says 'Petrificus Totalus'. And I can't move. For hours. Then we're both found, and I'm unfrozen and made to answer questions about what happened to her, and I tell them pretty much what I just told you, and then they let me go but half the school is probably going to think it's me, now! I was getting my worst marks in Herbology, and I saw Colin as a bit of a rival, and... and..."

"It's not you, Luna," said Ginny. "I have a strong feeling that the person behind all of this is going to be caught very soon, and be stopped. This is all almost over."

"How can you say that?" Luna asked, through tears. "You're not a Seer." But what Luna didn't know was that the interior of Ginny's mouth had a deep gash in it. By Ginny's bedside, furthermore, was a speck that explained in Parseltongue that she was about to take Tim to investigate the Chamber. And best of all, Ginny had firmly decided, about thirty minutes ago, never to take Tim out of his box to speak to him again.