The rain slid down the windows of the Gryffindor Common Room, the room was illuminated only by the firelight, the lamps all out. It was almost empty, save a small redhead in a chair by the fire, her head falling sideways onto her shoulder and her eyes drooping. A small book lay open on her lap. It looked old and tattered. A quill was slipping through her fingers as they let go of it as she slid into unconsciousness. Her long red hair spilt over her shoulder as her head drooped further...
She awoke with a jolt, as though someone had yelled in her ear. Her brown eyes were wide and she looked startled. Her eyes dropped to the open book below her. Previously, the pages had been blank – but now, spidery writing had appeared on the page.

Come to the Chamber.

She smiled and rubbed her eyes, re-gripping her quill, she scrawled a reply.

Of course, Tom.

She smiled as her words faded, just as his had done as soon as she had read them. She stood up, taking the book under her arm and leaving her quill on the table. She walked out of the common room, glancing behind her before she climbed through the portrait hole.

The corridors were empty, an echo of their usual selves. Her small footsteps sounded louder in the empty hallways and she glanced nervously over her shoulder as she neared the second-floor bathroom. There was no sign of Mrs Norris or Filch, so she seemed safe enough as she opened the door to the girls' bathroom slowly, cringing as it creaked open. She stepped inside and closed it behind her... And suddenly she was letting out a strangled hiss sound and the sinks began to do what she had seen them do so many times before. She smiled. She couldn't help herself. She looked into the darkness of the tunnel, sat down and swung her legs over the edge, then pushed herself in. She slid until she came to the bottom, landing with a bump, the bones of small animals sticking into her. She suddenly wished she'd put on something other than her school robes. She grimaced as she picked her way towards where she knew the entrance was. She came to a stone slab, which she hissed at again, and it opened. She pulled herself through and clambered down the ladder. She jumped off the last rung and let her eyes drink in the magnificence of the Chamber. She stared in awe at the serpent statues and the statue of Salazar Slytherin himself.
"You always seem impressed," rang out a voice from the other side of the Chamber. She looked, quickly, trying to find its source. It spoke again, "Yet, that might be the part of you that is me," it mused. Then, out of the shadows, came a figure. A handsome figure. A boy, around sixteen. His boyish face had a shadow of manhood and his eyes the knowledge of much different than a sixteen-year-old boy. His eyes were older. Though of course, she did not notice as she ran across the Chamber, splashing in the puddles of water as she went. He smiled as she approached him and stopped.
"Hello, Ginny," he said, calmly, tilting his head. She composed herself.
"T-tom," she stuttered, still panting slightly. He laughed, a high laugh that did not much suit his appearance. Ginny shivered.
"Well, Ginny," he said, turning away from her and walking towards the back wall of the Chamber, which he leant against, "I fear our work is almost done..." Ginny followed him, shyly.
"Work?" she asked him, puzzled. He laugh that cold, high-pitched laugh again.
"Never mind, Ginny, never mind..." She attempted a smile.
"Why do you fear it's almost done? Surely it's a good thing?" Tom looked at her, his eyes piercing her. He smiled, gleefully.
"It's good for my benefit," he told her, his eyes travelling around the Chamber, then back to her. "Not so much for you." He told her.
"I-I don't understand..." she began, but he cut across her.
"See, you've been writing in me – confiding in me your deepest, darkest fears, letting me get close to you, become almost part of you... You've been feeding me all your secrets, Ginny, and I am living off you. You're making me stronger." Suddenly, he was infront of her. She looked up at him.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice high and her tone frightened. He looked at her, no pity in his eyes.
"As I grow stronger, Ginny – you grow weaker," his voice held power and she felt her knees grow weak, struggling to support herself. She felt herself fall, but he caught her. She gripped his arms as they held her waist.
"See?" he said, his voice dipping, "You're weak, Ginny. So weak." She looked at him, fearfully. His voice was fading, suddenly louder, then quiet again. And his face blurred for a moment as she struggled to see clearly.
"Tom," she struggled to talk as she lifted her head to look at him. He let go of her, slowly and she slid down the wall. He crouched down beside her, brushing her flaming red hair out of her freckled face. She looked up at him, her eyes heavy.
"Tom?" she said again, her voice croaky. He bent down and tilted her chin towards his with his thumb and forefinger.
"Well," he said quietly, "I suppose I have denied you a happy life... So I might as well..." and his lips found hers. He kissed her slowly, and, it took a moment, but she kissed him back. He deepened the kiss, his hands either side of her face, then one hand in her hair, tousling it. He pulled away slowly, after a minute or two and her eyes opened slowly. They were sad and struggled to stay open. He stood up, briskly. She watched through half-open eyes as he walked away. As she fell into blackness, a boy with large, round glasses and a lightening-shaped scar floated into her mind. She smiled as she lost consciousness and gave in to the darkness.