There was Tom and Ginny

You surrender

love under will

rest assured you're adored

And it feels just like heaven's coming down

Your soul shakes free

as its conscience hits the ground

This time, this fate,

Takes the path you didn't choose

-The Tea Party

It was mid-afternoon, the weather outside dark and threatening. The castle hallways were quiet and deserted, except for the occasional wandering of a ghost. Filch was writing up another report for the troublesome Peeves, Hagrid was tending to his garden, and Dumbledore was taking a quite needed dip in his mysterious Pensieve. All the students and teachers were in class where they belonged. Except for one red headed young witch.

Ginny looked from side to side, then dashed across the hallway to hide behind a suit of armor, and peered around. Convinced there was no one else lurking about, she proceeded to sneak down the vast corridor, to an infamous place in the castle, that was by now, well known.

Her glazed over, hazel eyes stared down upon blood red writing, tattooed into the stone. She kneeled down on one knee, and pulled out her wand from beneath her luminous robes. A black fire shot out the tip just below the old writing, and scorched another message into the stone.

Ginny mechanically stood up, returning her wand to its pocket. A violent jerk shook through her body, and for a moment she stood there, her eyes wide open and scared, and then her eyes fiercely glazed over again, and she turned right around and headed for the door just a ways down the hall.

The small oak door had a shoddy sign, saying, "out of order", plastered on the front of it, held on by curling Spellotape. Ginny didn't even glance at this as she turned the brass knob and slipped through the door.

An ugly, solemn-looking ghost of a young girl poked her head out under one of the girls' bathroom stalls.

"What do you want now?" the ghost wailed. Ginny strode past her, and stopped in front of one of the moldiest looking sinks. The sound that came out of the possessed young girl as she peered at the curious tap was inhuman. The yellow sink began to dissolve as Ginny hissed and spat at it. She casually pushed herself though the hole, and slid down a very slimy, large pipe that seemed to descend forever.

With a great 'thud', Ginny smacked down on cold, hard stone. She stood up in a dark tunnel that was just big enough to walk through without crouching. The air was cold and rank, and small, rotting animal skeletons littered the ground. Ginny stood up wobbly, but continued on down the only way to go, ignoring her cut, bleeding lip, and ignoring the enormous snakeskin she slipped through as she made her way down the long tunnel.

The small, seemingly harmless girl hissed evilly at the looming barrier in front of her, and proceeded to walk through a vast, dimly lit chamber. The force in her mind, set helpless Ginny against a marble pillar, and forced her quivering hands to extract a ruddy black book from a pocket on the side of her robes. She set it on the floor in front of her and fell limply to the bottom of the pillar.

Ginny groggily opened her eyes and painfully rose to a sitting position.

She glanced around, her mouth dropping. Her eyes widened in fear. She knew where she was. Ginny recognized this place from the vivid nightmares that haunted her every night.

The Chamber of Secrets.

Ginny closed her eyes, breathing out deeply and wrapping her arms around her knees.

" Hello, Ginny."

Ginny fluttered her eyes open, and gasped. Standing in front of her was none other than her best friend and imprisoner. She had seen him many times before, in her dreams. He was her diary, Tom Riddle.

" T-Tom?" Ginny croaked uneasily.

The slightly transparent boy, however, wasn't paying attention to her anymore. He was looking around, a satisfied smile playing upon his thin lips. Ginny nervously watched him stride over to a huge stone statue of a godly-looking man, carved into the wall. Tom stared up at the stone figure for a moment, then bowed deeply.

Ginny weakly pushed her self to her feet, and leaned against the pillar behind her for support. She felt exhausted and confused.

" Tom, w-what's going on? H-how d-did you...." Her voice trailed off as he turned around sharply and strode over to where she was limped against the pillar.

He stared down out her, his piercing dark eyes gazing into her own. He spoke clearly and sharply, with a voice that did not suite his handsome looks, a voice of pure evil venom.

" You know where we are, Ginny. You know how we got here."

Ginny breathed in deeply, and spoke with a more controlled voice.

" You forced me to come here, to Salazar's Chamber. But why, Tom? Did I - did you...attack anyone else? How did you, get out of...the diary?"

Tom smirked and stepped forward, his body now only inches away from Ginny, still pressed against the pillar. He whispered softly, so Ginny could feel his hot breath on her face.

" You wrote your farewell on the wall, and came here to wait for Harry Potter to save you. By you writing in my diary, your soul poured power into it, and thus I was able to materialize as a phantom of the past. Today, most people refer to me as You-Know-Who, though I am known to all as Lord Voldemort," he said calmly.

Ginny's eyes widened in fear and shock. Tom continued," I thank you, Ginny, for helping me. Now I can finish what should have been done long ago. I will kill Harry Potter. "

" No," Ginny spluttered. Tom nodded, his eyes glistening in a strange way.

" You heartless bastard," Ginny exploded. She rammed her palms into Tom's chest, and stumbled towards the only way out. But Tom caught her and slammed her back against the pillar. In one swift movement, the backside of Tom's hand whipped across Ginny's face. She reeled, almost falling over, but Tom held her up. Ginny stared back at him, shaking under his touch. Tom spat at her, his eyes livid with fire.

"I've been a heartless bastard all my life. And I know it. And it's people like you, Ginny, people like you that made me the way I am today."

Tom paused, his eyes narrowing.

" I survived. I became all that I could be. Do you know, Ginny, that my father left my mother to die? That he left me in an orphanage? I grew up with out any friends, or family. I had a hard childhood. I was never accepted. I always knew I was different."

Ginny whimpered under the grip Tom had on her arms. She felt herself getting weaker by the second.

" I didn't know. I am so sorry, Tom please, don't do this. "

Tom regained control of himself, letting go of Ginny, and brushed a flyaway strand of jet-black hair away from his face. He breathed in deeply, and stared at her. Tears streamed down Ginny's face as she looked back. Tom reached up and pressed a long finger against the gash on Ginny's lip. Ginny felt the sting of his touch, but didn't recoil. He brushed her tears away, even as more fell onto his hand.

"Ginny, this is the way things are. The way they have to be. There is no other way."

Ginny reached up and pressed his lingering hand against her cheek, closing her eyes.

" Tom, it doesn't have to be this way. I know what we feel for each other. "

Tom's hand slipped away from her face. He knew what she meant.

" Lord Voldemort doesn't love," said Tom, his eyes darkening, " Ginny, I am who I am. There is only one thing left for me to do, one thing I need to do. "

Tom clenched his teeth, a look of pain in his eyes.

" Tom, please. "

" Soon, you will die, and so will Harry Potter. Then I will fade back into my diary. That is all. "Tom said decisively, anguished tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Ginny's lip quivered weakly.

" Tom, I feel so weak..." she whispered, then collapsed.

He slid an arm under her shoulders and wrapped his other arm under her legs as he picked her up. She hung limply in his arms. He easily carried her over the statue of Salazar Slytherin, and laid Ginny under it. He kneeled down next to her and held her flaming red head up on his arm.

Ginny forced herself to look up into his eyes again.

" I am sorry, Ginny. I'll never forget you."

Her head fell back. Tom clutched her to him, staring straight ahead. A single tear streaked his face.

He grabbed the diary, placed it on the floor next to the only person that had ever made him feel anything but hate, and straightened.

Leaning calmly against the pillar, he waited for Harry Potter.