Harry creeped along the Chamber's floor, his wand at the ready. His footsteps echoed off the slippery walls, but his heart thumped even louder.

Harry came out of the corridor and into a room, with a large statue of a bearded man at the back. His eyes traveled around, up, down...to fall on a small person with red hair.

"Ginny!" Harry ran over and dropped to his knees. He rolled her over so her face faced up. Her skin was a deathly pale, her hair splaying out like an inferno over the wet floor.

She wasn't moving. "Ginny, don't be dead, please!" No response.

"Ginny!" He shook her repeatedly, his hands shaking slightly. Desperation welled up inside of him as Ginny flailed around like a weak doll under his arms. "Ginny, wake up, please!"

"She won't wake." Harry heard a voice behind him. Whirling around, he came face-to-face with...Tom Riddle.

"Tom? Tom Riddle? Is that you?" Harry asked uncertainly, keeping a hand on Ginny's stomach.

"Ginny won't wake up. She's still alive, just barely," he elaborated, and Harry sighed in relief.

"Well, you've got to help me get her out of here before the basilisk comes!" Harry called, grabbing Ginny under her arms and trying to hoist her over his shoulders.

"Oh, who said I was helping you?" A cruel smile appeared on Tom's face.

Harry looked up with wide eyes, almost dropping Ginny back onto the floor in the process. Seeing the smirk on the other boy's face, he searched his pockets for his wand. "Hey, have you-"

But he didn't need to say anymore when he saw Tom fiddling with it in his hands.

Harry narrowed his eyes, holding his hand out for his wand. "What's going on here?"

The smile stayed on Tom's face as he stuffed the wand in his pocket. "You won't be needing your wand, Harry Potter."

Shivers ran down Harry's spine at the tone of the man's voice. Something was seriously wrong, and he needed to find out what.

Tom Riddle is Voldemort. No. No, it couldn't be. Tom Riddle couldn't be Voldemort, because Harry had written to him in the diary, and he had been so nice...

But it was, and now Harry didn't know what to believe anymore. Not only did Tom turn out to be his parent's murderer, all Dumbledore could send Harry in his times of need was Fawkes and the Sorting Hat.

That was nothing against Riddle, especially since he had both his wand and control over the basilisk.

Now Riddle stood in front of him, holding, ironically, Harry's own wand to his face. Harry knew it was the end.

Before Harry knew what was happening, Fawkes dropped the diary into his lap. It only took a split second after that - a quickly thrust basilisk fang brought Tom Riddle's end upon him.

Trembling, Harry stood up, leaning on the Chamber wall to catch his breath. He had just defeated Tom, no Voldemort. He had defeated the Heir of Slytherin. \

Everybody was safe now. I am safe now. He could rest for a moment.

His eyes focused on Ginny again. She hadn't moved at all from the position he had left her in.

"Ginny? Ginny, it's me, Harry. Wake up, Tom's gone," Harry said, dropping again in front of her. He gently shook her, as if he was waking her up on a weekend. "Ginny, come on. Open your eyes."

She did not stir. After a few more attempts, Harry began to shake her roughly, the familiar sense of desperation and helplessness creeping along his spine again.

"Ginny, it's over, so please wake up...Ginny!"

Harry took his hands off her and forced himself to make his ragged breathing more shallow and even. He then took her cold hand into his, and felt on her wrist.

Nothing. There was nothing.

Not allowing himself to believe she was gone, Harry put his fingers to her cold neck.

Nothing there either.

Harry began scrambling around her, continuing to feel at her pulse points. Ginny couldn't be dead. She was a Weasley, a fellow Gryffindor, Ron's little sister...and she was only in her first year of Hogwarts. She had so much more fun to have.

Harry placed a hand over her chest. Her heart wasn't pounding, and her stomach wasn't rising anymore for breathing...

Silence enveloped Harry as he literally stopped breathing for a moment; but then the screaming in his ears was so loud that he immediately dropped on top of Ginny, his head painfully landing on her corpse.

Ginny's not dead. She's just sleeping. Knocked out.

Ron eventually shook him up and got them out. Well, he got them out and then burst out crying in the girl's bathroom, screaming for Ginny to come back.

Harry cried too, but quietly. His tears were just as many though, because he felt almost...guilty for her dying, like he was the one to blame, even though he knew that wasn't the case and she wouldn't have wanted it to be so either.

Maybe, if he had been faster, he could have defeated Riddle before she died.

Maybe he could have saved her.

Everybody was crying, and it was all Harry's fault.

Sure, he had saved the population of Hogwarts, but he hadn't saved Ginny, and she was one of the most important of them all. He was at her funeral now, and while nobody really thought so, Harry was sure they were blaming him.

Harry was always messing things up, wasn't he? Always getting into trouble, getting into the way of things.

Maybe next year (or, better, for the rest of his life) he should just lay low. Then no one else would die because of him.

Harry was incorrectly blaming himself for Ginny's death, and that sadly cost more lives than if he had continued to act out.

The next year, Buckbeak and Sirius Black were both killed and Harry did not bat an eyelash.

I will not cause any more deaths than I already have.

The thought of possibly saving those lives never crossed his mind.

A/N: Warning: Atrocious author on the loose.

Done for:

Fanfiction Tournament Competition Round 1-Prompts

What if? Competition

Fantastic Beasts Challenge-Augurey

Create a Potion Challenge-Draught of Living Death Ingredient #1

Diagon Alley Fic Crawl Challenge-Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment