The Weight of Absence

Ginny could never forget that day. It stuck with her like a curse, and tormented her. He should never have gone to the Chamber.

It had been five years, and yet she couldn't forgive Harry for what he had done. It had all been plotted out perfectly. They thought that they could escape successfully, but that was not to be. The Boy-Who-Fucking-Lived had to come and mess up their plots.

Tom was a visionary. He had shown her that her love for Harry was meaningless and in vain. He had shown her a new side of an existence that she had deemed to be so dull. He had been hers and hers alone. But Harry couldn't accept that.

With the diary gone, she had no hope to be with Tom. He was the first person apart from her parents that she could say she had truly loved. He was the first person to nurture her power and help her become greater in body and in spirit. His rivals had to take that away from her.

It's not fair, she thought, standing at the window of the sixth-year girls' dorm, watching the sun rise and the birds stir below. What had she done to hurt Harry? She wasn't in control of the Basilisk! She had no control over Tom, and he in turn probably never told the beast to go after Hermione. Why did the stupid boy have to rob her of her love?

It didn't make any sense. Everything had been going so well. That was what nobody understood; she was a willing participant in the events that took place down in the Chamber, that fateful night. She had wanted Tom to take her into his being, to take away some of the pain he had himself inflicted upon her. No one could understand the special relationship she had with him from within the diary.

At first, it had hurt to allow him into herself. It had hurt to be the one causing so much pain for others. She was afraid, of course, but after a while, he became a comfort. He was the only one she could talk to within the school who wasn't completely on-edge about the attacks. He wasn't afraid of anything or anyone, and he knew just how to soothe her nerves.

Hagrid was leaving his cabin now. She knew she would have to retreat from the window to avoid being seen. This was a dangerous pastime, musing about Tom. The subject always left her in a trance-like state for a while. How could she help herself?

She sat on her bed and closed her eyes, thinking back to her favourite times with him. He was never rude to her, unlike Harry or Ron, who were often telling her off for hanging around them. No, Tom was always willing to sit and listen to her silly, boring tales about a stupid crush. He had been everything she dreamed her husband would be: handsome, charming, intelligent, and definitely ambitious.

"Oh Tom," she whispered silently, the tears forming in her eyes. What they had shared was not for anyone's ears. Part of her wanted to believe it was wrong, but the rest was determined to prove that it was right.

What had happened down in the Chamber was nothing compared to her final trip inside the diary. It hadn't been composed only of memories as most people had thought, but instead had captured the essence of a living, breathing Tom within its ordinary pages. The ink was his blood, and on that fateful night she found out that it ran hot.

She could never, ever tell anyone about it. Even thinking about it made shivers run down her spine. Whether it was from excitement, love, fear or anger, she didn't know. All she knew was that they would fuss over it. They would call it rape. It was the one thing Ginny would never let lose its meaning. It was the one thing she still held secret in her heart, though it was tearing her up that she had to.

Sure, when Tom had first gone, Ginny was excited. She was free from his whispering, his demands, his cruel orders. But after the first three weeks, she began to miss his company. There was no one to talk to about everything that had happened in the Chamber. She was completely and utterly alone. That was worse than having him in her head.

Sometimes, like right now, she could still hear him whispering. "I'll always be there for you, Ginny. Just open the diary and write whenever you need to."

The tears flowed freely. "Tom, oh Lord, I wish it was really you!" she whispered. "I wish you were really here!" Her entire body shook as she glanced at the mirror. The realisation of what she was seeing hit her like the Hogwarts Express.

In the large mirror, instead of seeing her reflection, she saw a tall young man with black hair and pale skin. He was wearing a Head Boy badge on his black Hogwarts robes and twirling his wand in one hand.

Quick as a flash, she stepped up to the mirror and breathed out a deep sigh. "Tom..."

"Ginny..."

"Oh Tom...I wish it was true...I wish you were really here."

"But I am there, Ginny. I am in your heart. You still have the diary."

"What are you talking about, Tom?" Was she finally going crazy? Had she finally lost every last one of her marbles? Certainly, talking to a mirror, thinking Tom was there...

"The diary could be many things, Ginny. It's not necessarily a book. Look inside yourself."

She closed her eyes and concentrated on his image. She could feel his hot breath on her face and immediately reached out to take him into her embrace.

"Tom!" Ginny sobbed quietly. "Tom!"

"You should be free of this, Ginny. I came to tell you that. You needn't long for me anymore. I'm with you always!"

"But there's nothing, Tom! There's nothing we can do! You're trapped...you're trapped inside my mind!"

"No, Ginny. All you have to do is write..."

His voice faded into silence, and his warmth into the bitter cold of the early winter morning. Ginny fell to the ground, clutching her head and sobbing.

"I can't, Tom...I don't have the strength to anymore. I...Goodbye, Tom. I loved you."

"I loved you too."

And he was gone. As the sun's rays touched her, Ginny felt a bit lighter. The memories of Tom weren't a burden; he was with her forever, this way. That was exactly the way she wanted it.