Title: It Started With A Diary

Chapter: 1/? - Destiny

Author: Tári Elensar

Email: tari_elensar@hotmail.com

Category: Tom Riddle/Ginny Weasley; angst

Spoilers: All Books

Rating: PG-13 (possibly R in future chapters)

Summary: Voldemort may be dead but Tom Riddle isn't. Set in Ginny's sixth year at Hogwarts, she and Tom re-tell their story of how they got to where they are today.

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own anything but my words. The characters and places all belong to a very talented lady named J. K. Rowling. I am not making money off this fanfic.

Author's Note: I must thank Sibby and the others over at the Role Playing board on Fan Forum. Some of the ideas for this fic come from a RP I was in over there and so I must give them credit. Thanks guys. ^_^ Also at the moment this is the only chapter of this story I've written. I have a vague idea where I want it to go but I'm not sure if I have the motivation for it. However if anyone says I should continue than I probably will. So review!! ^-^

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It started with a diary. A simple small thin book with a shabby black cover - the kind you could buy at a Muggle newsagent. On the first page the name T. M. Riddle was just legible in smudged ink and I often found myself gazing at the book, wondering who T. M. Riddle was and why he never wrote in the diary that had somehow ended up in my Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration book over fifty years later. Was it fate? I would wonder. Was it fate that I should get this book and be doomed to daydream and wonder who T. M. Riddle was? Was it fate that one day I picked up the diary and as I flipped through the pages got an incredible urge to write, to explain the way I always felt so left out, so pushed aside, so unwanted. Was it fate that he could give me all the things I craved?

It started with a diary, an eleven-year-old girl, a broken quill and a half-empty ink pot. No one would have ever guessed that things could end up this way. No one would ever understand why it would end up this way. And no one could ever understand the reason behind it.

Tom Marvolo Riddle. I hated that name more than I'd hated anything, but yet I could not bring myself to forget it. He had me under his spell and there was no way I could escape. I did often think about it, however I knew deep in my heart if the chance ever came, I wouldn't want to escape. I was right where I was destined to be.

And that's what this story is about, right? Destiny? About giving in to what you know is real no matter how wrong it is. Nothing could have stopped it from happening. I know that now. I accept that now. But that doesn't mean I don't regret it.

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It started with a diary. No wait. It started with a man. Not a boy. Not a Muggle like my filthy father. It started with a man. The heir of Slytherin. And one day that man was given a diary. A simple small thin book with a shabby black cover - the kind you could buy at a Muggle newsagent. It was one of the only 'gifts' I had received while living in that Muggle orphanage. A small trinket that was supposed to make us remember that they 'cared'. I don't think they ever realised what a lasting impression that diary would have on me. Alright so it wasn't as lasting as the impression I made on them after becoming Lord Voldemort, after all nothing says 'I care' like having your throat ripped out, but to a sixteen year old boy it would do.

But I'm getting off track. The real story here is one that although will eventually end well, is one that I'm ashamed to admit to. Oh yes Lord Voldemort made his return, however it wasn't exactly as he would have liked it. I don't think he would have liked knowing that his destiny lay in the hands of a Mudblood orphan named Tom Riddle, but I had been given a second chance and I wasn't about to screw it up. After all, I was destined to become the most feared man in all the wizarding world. I was destined to be great. And as Lord Voldemort's return and victory wasn't destined to fail time and time again despite the fact Harry Potter had defeated him, I wasn't destined to spend all of eternity in a bloody book.

And that's where our story begins. In the hands of a pale, spineless, insecure student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There was a broken quill between her fingers and a crease in her brow as she stared down at where it all began. Let me take you back there, between the pages of that diary.

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Ginny, please. You have to do as I say.

I stared down as the familiar scrawl appeared on the page. So familiar now, but yet the very sight of it still sent shivers up my spine. I hesitated a moment while I composed a reply in my head. Absent-mindedly my fingers ran around the jagged hole in the centre of the book. It was the hole where almost five years ago a Basilisk tooth had pierced it, sending Tom Riddle back between its' pages. For a brief moment I had believed what everyone else did. They all thought he was dead. They all thought he'd been defeated forever. However I soon realised how naive and stupid we all were. Nothing could destroy him. And now I was the only one that knew the truth. Tom was still between the pages of his diary as he'd always been. However now he was more desperate than ever to escape. So desperate in fact that he'd found his way back to the hands of a girl he'd once betrayed in hopes that he could win her over again. I wouldn't let him succeed.

So finally, with a shaky hand, I dipped my quill in the ink pot that sat on my bedside table. He can't hurt you anymore, I tried to convince myself. All you have to do is tell him you won't, then take the book to Dumbledore. Everything will be okay.

Convinced that I had control of the situation, I bent over the diary, my long red hair falling in my face and then wrote.

Why would I ever do anything for you again? You betrayed me Tom. You said you loved me but yet you almost had me killed. I heard what you said to Harry in the Chamber. I was nothing more than a pawn.

I paused, my breath caught in my throat as I waited for his answer. He can't hurt me here, I chanted over and over in my mind. His powers have weakened. He can no longer control you.

At least that's what I wanted to believe. Deep inside I knew if Tom was no longer controlling me, the diary would have been in Dumbledore's hands a week ago. Why oh why hadn't he checked it more thoroughly before letting Harry dispose of it? And how did I come to keep it again? The last week was a blur. All I seemed to remember was sitting down only moments ago, the diary in my lap, and just staring at it, hoping with all my heart that it wasn't real. But it was and as Tom's reply appeared on the page, I could feel my heart sinking. I was going to lose control again.

Tom's writing was sharp and messy this time - a tell tale sign that he was growing impatient. I felt a sudden need to apologise and beg his forgiveness but I held my quill away from the page as I read, wanting again to think before writing back.

Ginny, haven't I always been good to you? What I said in the Chamber was only for Potter's benefit. I was only trying to make him weaker. Please, I would never hurt you.

I wanted desperately to believe him but the sane part of my mind was pounding on me like a Bludger to the head. One word stood out amongst the rest.

"Liar," I whispered aloud.

My mind knew Tom was lying. My heart knew Tom was lying. Tom didn't care about me. If I had died that day in the Chamber, it wouldn't have mattered to him. However as I continued to stare at the words on the page, I felt like my power of self-control was slipping away. I remembered that first moment I had seen Tom, his dark hair falling into his vulnerable, warm eyes. He smiled at me and I knew that I was much more than a silly girl with a crush. This was destiny. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't argue with that.

Hesitantly, I lent back down and began to write.

What do you want me to do?

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Ginny I need you to cast a spell.

My words were frantic and insistent. I knew I could no longer control her completely but after last time, I also knew that she longer needed controlling. She was mine. And, when I left the pages of the ruined diary that imprisoned me, I would rule the wizarding world again with my faithful servant and loving queen at my side. This time, I promised myself, I would reward her loyalty. She would never regret a thing and she would give me everything that I so dearly craved.

And so I waited for Ginny's reply, knowing full well that she was my last hope, not only for victory but for salvation from my own inner turmoil. As much as I hated to admit it, it was true.

Okay. What sort of spell?

Relief swept through me and quickly and excitedly, since for the first time in four long years I saw the prospect of me returning to full body dancing on the horizon, I wrote back to her. I explained in detail where she could find the spell and what ingredients she would need. I explained to her what the spell would do and how I would reward her greatly for helping me. I explained everything and then finally pausing, I waited again, hoping she was still there, reading, thinking, deciding, and choosing a side. Ginny wasn't stupid. She knew what doing this spell would mean to her. There was after all a great chance that she may be lost to the Dark Arts forever. That suited me fine but I knew her conscience may have other ideas.

I'll do the spell.

For a moment, I could do nothing. I had expected it to take longer for me to convince her. I expected that I would have to lie and persuade her for possibly hours. But she was willing. The eagerness unnerved me slightly.

I started to write back but stopped abruptly when I realised she hadn't finished. Of course, I thought, there would be a condition. However, it too wasn't what I expected.

But I'll need help. I'm only a sixth year student. I don't have access to these ingredients and the spell sounds awfully complicated.

I thought for a moment about how this could affect my plan. As long as Ginny did it carefully, it couldn't hurt, could it? Once I was free, I could simply wipe the memory of whomever it was that she asked help from. However, who would she ask? Surely not Harry Potter, it would be too risky. One of her brothers perhaps? A teacher? That would be acceptable...Or...

The words appeared just as I thought them myself. It seemed Ginny and I were more connected that I had originally thought. We were on the same page, so to speak.

I'm going to ask Hermione Granger.

It was perfect. She was the smartest student at Hogwarts as well as being Harry Potter's best friend. If it were possible to drag her into my plan at the same time, it would only make my victory over Potter much much sweeter. I hated getting my hopes up but so far, everything seemed as though it was going to work out perfectly.

Very well. I replied. But be careful. We cannot have her suspecting anything at first. If she does, you know what I'll have to do, don't you? It was time to test Ginny's loyalty.

And to my delight, there was no hesitation. The words appeared instantly, dark and strong. Ginny knew.

You'll have to kill her.

I was more than pleased. When I had first met Ginny back when she was only in her first year, she was so weak and innocent. So nervous and scared. However I knew she had potential. The first time I had wanted her to kill our discussion had ended in an argument and it took me a long time to calm her down and make her understand why it was vital to the plan. Gradually though she began to understand and I could practically feel her twitching with anticipation to break free of the mindless role which she played out every day.

But Harry Potter found the diary before her moment came and her courage was lost. And although now she offered her friends to me freely, I knew there would be some doubt in her pretty little head. I would not allow that. She had to be completely loyal. I had to give myself some insurance.

Ginny darling, I wrote, let me take you back into my memory. For old time's sake.

Again, there was no hesitation.

Okay.

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The pages were flipping faster and faster until they came to land on a day I knew very well. I felt myself begin to panic. Was Tom going to make me relive it all? However mixed within my panic, another part of me was fluttering with excitement. That day I had felt such a rush, such a power. It was a power I still secretly longed for.

The diary was showing me the day I had opened the Chamber of Secrets and freed Tom.

It was then that I noticed that a little window had opened on the page. I knew the drill. I raised the book to my eye, trying to get a look at what was inside so I could be prepared before I left but before I could make out the miniscule scene in front of me I felt like I was tilting forwards as the window widened. I was then pitched headfirst through the opened page and I squeezed my eyes shut as I was met with a whirl of colour and shadow.

I felt my body hit something solid and I cautiously opened my eyes as the world around me came into focus. I was nervous as to what exactly Tom would show me. A lot had happened in those few days and when I thought back to them, I was filled with a mixture of emotions. An incredible feeling of guilt was beginning to wash over me and I knew if Tom showed me how Harry had nearly died against the Basilisk or something to that effect, there would be no way I could carry through with his plans. Of course he won't show you that, my mind reasoned. Tom knows you better than that. He knows what you want to see.

I peered into the dim light and my heart sank. Maybe he didn't. I was sitting on the wet, cold floor of the Chamber, that much was sure. But as I looked around, there didn't appear to be anyone else with me.

Slowly I stood up, expecting my robes to cling to my legs from the water I had been sitting in but as I began to walk barefoot through puddles towards the light shining in the centre of the room, I realised the water was not touching me. You're not really here, I reminded myself, which means nothing here can harm you. Don't be scared.

But still my legs trembled as I stepped into the light that was peeking through a hole in the roof. Beside me was the giant head of Salazar Slytherin, a sight that always managed to chill me to the bone. I was standing right in the place Harry had found me unconscious. And then like a puzzle, my own memories started to fit together and I suddenly knew what it was that Tom wanted to show me.

"Ginny. At last. It is an honour to finally meet you face to face."

Hearing the familiar voice, I spun around, knowing now that I wasn't alone in the Chamber. It was strange that I still remembered that voice perfectly. The way he pronounced certain words and how I could tell when he was annoyed. I hadn't heard it in five years...unless you counted my dreams. In my dreams, I heard it every night.

My eyes adjusted to the strange light that glowed in the Chamber. It almost gave me the impression that the image I was seeing was old and worn. But it was still much clearer to me than some of the things I saw back in the real world. In the real world I was becoming a shadow, lost and confused.

Sitting on the floor a few feet away from me, I finally made out the younger version of me. She held the open diary in her lap and as I followed her gaze, I realised that Tom Riddle stood before her. It was the moment that I had released him.

I was frozen to the spot. I couldn't move or walk away. I couldn't close my eyes for fear that if I did he would disappear. I was completely entranced and almost horrified by the scene that was playing out in front of me. Everything that I had felt at that moment came rushing back.

"Tom," Ginny breathed, her face alight with innocent admiration. The look in her eyes was similar to the one she used to give Harry. But Harry would never look back at her the way Tom was. The 'great' Harry Potter barely knew she existed. He would never listen or care for her in the way Tom did.

Tom stared back down at her for a moment. He pushed away the strand of dark hair that was falling in his eyes and smiled gently. I remembered that moment as the one where Tom had me completely. It was that moment when I realised my full potential and my real destiny. I tried desperately to look away, but something held me where I was.

Slowly Tom stretched out a hand for the younger girl to take. Ginny took it tentatively and the diary slipped from her lap as she stood. Her head only just reached his shoulder, however, as when the sound of dropped diary echoed through the Chamber and she ignored it, she didn't seem to notice the difference. When standing beside Tom, Ginny felt powerful, as if she owned the world.

"You released me," Tom continued hoarsely, his voice echoing off the Chamber walls. "You saved me and for that I owe you everything."

With those words, I suddenly felt a moment of clarity. I hadn't noticed it then, but I couldn't help but realise how twisted Tom's voice sounded. How insincere and fake as though he were patronising me, taking advantage of me. I felt a surge of anger but as the younger me gazed up at him, I couldn't help but also remember the way I felt for him at that moment.

I loved him. I believed that we were soul mates. Kindred spirits that overcame all odds just so we could be together. I had saved him from being apart from the world; he had saved me from being lost in it.

My cynicism in his tone of voice vanished and I felt my chest tighten as Tom's hand let go of mine and drifted up to cup the younger me's face in his hands. I still remembered exactly what it felt like. Soft and gentle, cool and so light he almost felt as though he wasn't there. As if he were nothing more than a mere memory.

I continued to watch, still unable to turn away as Tom bent his head and his lips met Ginny's in a short, sweet kiss. My first kiss. He pulled away and although I could see a smirk forming on his lips, I couldn't bring myself to hate him for it. All the anger I was feeling dissolved as I remembered yet again how I'd felt for him at that moment. I believed that Tom Riddle loved me. He didn't ignore me like everyone else. He cared about my problems and he needed me to help him. And wasn't that all that really mattered?

It was then that I began to hear a gentle voice echoing inside my head. "Memories are what make us Ginny. Without them, we would have no identity. We would know nothing about the world around us and we would feel nothing for the people that are there. You feel me because your memory insists that you do, no matter what your head may be screaming. So doesn't that make a memory real? And doesn't that mean that I am real? Don't ignore your memories or your heart Ginny. You can't deny that this is and can be your reality."

Tears stung my eyes and I closed them tightly. I loved Tom. I knew I did. And I would do whatever I could to bring him back to me. Nothing was wrong when it involved him. Tom would take care of me forever. I knew it.

When I opened my eyes I realised I was staring back at the pages of the diary. I was back in my dorm room, the last rays of the setting sun shining in my window. It was my last source of light but I could still make out the words that were appearing in front of me.

Are you loyal to me, Ginny my love? Will you help me?

A smirk began to spread over my lips as I dipped my quill into the ink pot. I knew what my destiny was.

I am loyal, I replied. Of course I will help you.

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