Please Love Me

by Cosmic Angel

Ginny was ensnared by the dangerous charms of Tom Riddle. Years later, she still cant forget him. But now things are getting more dangerous; Tom wants Harry, and Ginny's slowly being driven insane by her love... One-shot, rated PG13 for suicide.

Gin-N-Toxin Challenge - Please Love Me

This was written for a challenge on Heavenly Evil. All kudos for Harry Potter and the gang are credited to JK Rowling. I own nothing except the plot, and I'm not even sure about that….

And also, ironically, Darren Hayes' song 'Strange Relationship' started playing as I was writing the ending. Bloody ironic, huh. I don't own the rights to that either, but tis an awesome song and totally appropriate for this. Go buy.

~~

Professor Snape's voice droned on in the background as Ginny stared, unseeing, into the bubbling cauldron. Let her partner do all the work, she had other things occupying her mind.

Was it her mind any more? Since three years ago, when she first encountered him, it was as if she was under a spell. He had her mind bewitched, her senses ensnared. Just like Snape had promised they would be.

But it wasn't Snape occupying her mind. He had failed in his job as Potions Master; unless, of course, he had slipped her a love potion. And that would not happen, not in this lifetime. She was grateful, of course; the thought of Snape with any girl made her cringe.

"The potions should now be complete. You have five minutes to clear away your mess, and then we will test Creevey's potion."

As if in a dream, she waved her wand; that well practiced swish and flick serving her well. The desk was clean, and she made her way over to rinse her hands off. Not that she had got her hands messy. All her fingers had done was drum the table incessantly. The last class of the week and then she was free, free to ditch Colin Creevey and his gang, hide from her brother and his friends, and then…

"Tom."

His name escaped, feather light, from her lips. Startled from her reverie, she stared around. Good, no one had heard her.

Stupid girl! she scolded mercilessly. If someone had heard you, they'd have reported you to Dumbledore! And then you'd be in for it, you wouldn't be able to see him any more!

Not, she reflected, that he seemed particularly eager to see her. Some days he welcomed her with open arms. Other times, he totally ignored her. She would be tearing her hair out, waiting for a reply from him.

"Argh!" She let out a loud scream as the water turned from a warm trickle to an icy torrent.

"Most people do not require a gallon of water to wash their hands, Miss Weasley." Professor Snape's voice, as cold as her hands, mocked her.

She wasn't wanted in this class. If it wasn't compulsory, she wouldn't be taking it. He thought she'd never amount to anything, and he shouldn't waste his potions expertise on her.

One day, she'd show them all. She'd do something he would never have even dreamed she'd do.

~~

"Weasley, put that bloody light out! It's gone midnight!"

One of her roommates hurled a pillow at her.

"Sorry! Nox." The light at the end of her wand cut out sharply, and she crawled into bed, her red curls clashing horribly with the scarlet blankets and pillows, and her red face. The girls in her dorm all hated her. She closed her eyes, hearing the accio and the soft sound as the pillow flew back to its owner.

I should have been born a Slytherin. At least my robes would match my hair. And, I'd stand more chance with him. He hates me because I'm a Gryffindor, because I'm a Pureblood, because I'm friends with Harry. Everything he's not, everything he hates about me. At least he can't call me a Mudblood. I can call him one. I did!

That's why he hates me.

She clutched the thin black book to her chest. To retrieve this, she'd stolen Harry's invisibility cloak, broken into the Slytherin common room, rummaged through the belongings of a Malfoy (her hands would never be clean again) and then had lied to her brother, and her only two friends.

This book was her means of meeting her tall, dark stranger, her other side. By day, she was innocent Miss Weasley, would never dream of breaking the rules. By night, she was Ginny, wildfire, breaking every rule in sight. Almost like a Muggle comic book, except 'superhero' was a term reserved for Harry.

He'd asked her again, tonight, to bring Harry along. How could he ask that of her? She knew what would happen when Harry met Tommy.

War.

And not just these little scraps, like there were now. Full on war, the death toll reaching millions, perhaps the whole world.

She couldn't let that happen. It was coming anyway; she didn't want to be the catalyst. Let Harry go after him in his own time. She wouldn't let her friends be a sacrifice to feed her pathetic infatuation with the devil. That's what he is, after all. A devil, hell bent on creating war and death, treating people like toys, to be played with, manipulated, and then cast aside when they were no longer fun.

Sometimes he would act exactly as a child, taking them to pieces when he had no use for them.

They were the lucky ones.

~~

She opened the diary. Moaning Myrtle had finally left the bathroom, and she could speak to Tom. The quill poised, she considered, not for the first time, what she was doing.

One word, and he would be able to let her in, she would keep this a secret. But without that one word, he wouldn't be able to touch her. She could go back to her normal life, knowing that she wouldn't be responsible for the war. Without that word, Harry, Hermione, Ron, her family; they'd all be safe. They could win the war.

One word, and her heart would break. One word, and she would never see him again, never feel his arms wrapped around her, never feel his lips on hers again. Never hear him say her name, in that silky voice of his, never say his name back.

She pressed the quill to the paper.

Hello.

~~

"I won't bring him here!"

For weeks he had been asking, persuading, and ordering her to bring Harry down to the Chamber with her. For weeks she had been refusing.

"Crucio!"

Screaming in agony, she hit the floor. Her body felt like it was being torn apart. She couldn't take many more curses like this, not at this intensity.

And yet, the physical pain was nothing compared to what he was doing to her mind. Several times, she'd had to stop herself thinking about it. It wasn't the Imperius, he could manipulate her mind too easily already. Love was the worst curse of all, making even the strongest people fall to the object of their desires. He had cast the curse on her, and now she was his.

~~

"Ginny?"

Hermione stepped cautiously into the prefects' bathroom, where, she had been told, Ginny was trying to drown herself.

"Go away." Ginny's voice floated up from the mass of bubbles. Her school robes were weighing her down, but not half as much as her heavy heart. Tom had rejected her; he didn't want her until he could have Harry. And she would never turn over one of her best friends. Even in the name of love.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" Hermione cautiously seated herself on the edge of the large bath.

"Go away," insisted Ginny, peering out of the water.

"No," replied Hermione stubbornly.

"Did Ron send you?" Ginny slowly made her way over to the side opposite Hermione.

"No. He didn't. I came because it's blindingly obvious that there's something on your mind, and one of the other prefects told me that they saw you sitting in a full pool-sized bath in your uniform and heaviest robes."

"So you think I'm crazy?" She waved her arms, creating a few waves and smirking as Hermione jumped out of the way of the water.

"I didn't say that. I'm just worried about you."

"Pull the other one, Hermione, it's got bells on. You just want to do your job, be a 'good prefect.'" Ginny shot a dark glare at Hermione.

"Who is it?" asked Hermione after a pause.

"What does that mean?" Ginny lifted herself out of the bath and stood, water dripping into a puddle at her feet.

"Who do you love? It's obvious, now that I think about it. Is it someone that Ron won't approve of? Are you worried that your parents won't like him? Or doesn't he love you back?"

"He does love me back!" screamed Ginny. In seconds she was standing next to Hermione grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. "He does love me! He does, he does, he does!"

"Ginny, Gin, stop!" choked Hermione, her head snapping back and forth. "Ginny!"

"You don't know him, you filthy Mudblood! He does love me! He does, he does-"

A loud slap echoed around the bathroom, cutting off Ginny's hysterical screams. Hermione lowered her hand.

"Don't you dare call me that! I'm here to try and help you; I don't want to get killed in the process!"

Ginny lifted her hand to her cheek, where a large red handprint was forming. Her mind was clearing. It was all so simple now.

"Who is he?" asked Hermione again, feeling guilty for having to hit one of her best friends.

"Nobody you know," answered Ginny shortly, staring coolly at Hermione.

"Try me."

"No."

They stared in silence for a moment, Ginny daring Hermione to ask again. She wanted to hurt her, wanted to rip her head off for daring to say that Tom didn't love her.

Hermione sighed in defeat. She didn't want to hurt Ginny again.

"If you need to talk to me, you know where I am. My door is always open." Hermione turned and left, leaving a thoughtful Ginny behind.

Why has he never said that he loves me?

~~

She picked at the corner of the cushion. It had started to fray, and she found it soothing to unravel the knitted cover.

Unravelling. Just like my mind.

There was still no word from Tom; he still wanted nothing to do with her. He still hadn't said that he loved her.

I know he does. He's just never said it, that's all. Maybe he's waiting for the right moment. It's not very romantic in the Chamber.

If he said he loved me, it would be romantic anywhere.

With a sigh, she threw the cushion to the floor and tangled her hands in her hair. She was like a woman possessed; she hadn't eaten a decent meal in weeks, nor had she slept properly. Her dreams were filled with one person, one name, three precious words.

Maybe I should talk to Hermione. She jumped up and retrieved the cushion, starting to pace. Maybe she can make me see sense.

"But maybe I don't want to see sense," she muttered under her breath. Maybe I like deluding myself. Maybe I'll go up to the dorm and he'll have left me a message. Maybe I should stop acting like a child. Maybe I should get over him, forget about him, get on with my life.

Maybe I should give him Harry.

The cushion fell to the floor, and the sound of feet running up the stairs echoed around the now empty common room.

~~

"Hermione?" She knocked rapidly on the door; and without waiting for an answer, went in. A muffled curse came from the bed. A male voice.

"Hermione? I really need to talk to you." She stepped closer to the bed. She could make out two shadows behind the drawn curtains, hurriedly pulling the covers around themselves.

"What's wrong?" called out Hermione. Ginny frowned and her hand reached out and twitched the curtain aside. The flushed faces of her brother and his best friend greeted her.

"Oh, I'm sorry I disturbed you. I'll come back tomorrow." Her voice was cold as she glared at them. Why hadn't they told her? Did Harry know?

"No, it's okay." Hermione clutched the quilt to her neck and reached out for a robe. Ron watched; a wary look on his face.

"Hermione, perhaps Ginny should come back tomorrow," he said, grabbing her arm.

"No, I said that-"

"Hermione," insisted Ron. "I'm sure that Ginny has to go sleep now, unless she wants to answer to Mum about her sleepless nights."

Ginny glared at Ron. "How do you know?"

"I'm your brother, Gin. I know everything," he teased, his eyes worried. Hermione cast a despairing glance at Ginny, and then sighed.

"Can it wait until tomorrow?" she whispered, feeling horrible for letting her friend down.

Ginny shivered slightly, the cold air of the bedroom getting to her. "Of course. It's nothing important."

"I'm sorry, Ginny," Hermione's voice was even quieter.

"Don't worry; your secret is safe with me." Ginny left the bedroom, a plan formulating in her mind. Her brother and her best friend had wanted to be rid of her. They had wanted to be rid of Harry. Obviously, no one could care about him much. Nobody cared about her much either, except for one person.

He cared about Harry too. She would take Harry back to the chamber. They would both be safe, both be loved. She would hear those three precious words.

~~

"Ginny." His voice echoed around the chamber. He hadn't seen her for months. He had refused to let her in until he knew she would agree. Gryffindor minds were the easiest to manipulate, blinded by their courage.

"Tom!" she said quietly, eagerly, stepping forward slightly. It was so good to see him again, she had missed being in his presence. Now her mind could rest. He had accepted her back; he still loved her.

"I told you not to come anymore, Ginny. Not unless you changed your mind." He smirked in the shadows, choosing his words with care. "And I don't see him with you."

"I told you before." She stepped forward defiantly, a shaft of moonlight lighting her face, an angel in the darkness. Her Gryffindor courage was standing her in good stead, even if her heart was aching. "I won't bring him to you."

"Then I don't want to see you." He turned his back to her and disappeared into the shadows.

"But," she said, letting the word hang in the air. He turned slowly, meeting her confidant gaze.

"That was before."

Tom smiled, his eyes smug. He knew he had won.

"Then, Ginny, I'll see you tomorrow night." He waved his hand carelessly in her direction, knowing how important these small gestures were. Until Harry Potter was in his presence, he had to keep her believing that he cared.

Pathetic witch.

~~

Ginny hugged the diary to her. Harry would return soon, and she knew that Hermione and Ron were otherwise engaged.

He can ditch them and meet me later. We'll go into the Chamber together. We'll stay there, and Tom and I can go on dates, and have fun. We'll be a real couple. No more hiding.

"Harry!" The Fat Lady had let him in, and she looked up and smiled. "Harry, can I talk to you?"

"Of course." He seemed startled, and dropped his Firebolt. His Quidditch robes were soaked with mud. "Just let me get changed first."

"Yeah, that's okay. Thank you Harry."

He disappeared into his dorm, and she looked startled as she realised something. That was where Ron and Hermione were.

"Harry!" she called after him. Raised voices were coming from the dorm, ending with a loud thump, and Harry stormed back into the common room. She couldn't hear what had been said; she wasn't sure if she wanted to.

"Harry?"

"Not now Ginny!" He was carrying some clean robes, and dashed out of the common room. She was left alone, as always, with the diary.

This isn't going to work. I promised Tom that I'd bring him tonight.

"Ginny?"

Hermione was making her way down the stairs.

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. I did want to talk to you; I promised I would be there."

"Yes, you did." Ginny sat down in one of the many chairs, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"Well, do you still want to talk about it?" asked Hermione softly.

"No."

Hermione gave a small sigh. "Ginny, I'm really worried about you. Whoever he is, if he really loved you, he wouldn't make you so unhappy. Please, don't long for someone you can't have. You'll only end up hurt."

Ginny turned her head away, her hair falling to cover the tear that worked its way down her cheek. Hermione sighed again, sadly, and left Ginny to wrestle with her thoughts.

What am I going to do?

~~

She couldn't find him. It was five minutes to nine, and Harry had disappeared. In five minutes she had to enter the chamber. In five minutes, she would have to face Tom's wrath, would have to tell him she'd let him down.

"Okay. Breathe," she told herself. Moaning Myrtle had left after a few insults, and so she was alone.

What's the worst he can do? He's cast Cruciatus loads of times, he's kept you away, he's threatened you. What can he do?

He can break your heart.

"Damn you!" she screamed suddenly, throwing the diary at the sink. It fell to the floor, and its pages fell open, the fourteenth of July staring up at her accusingly.

"I hate you! I hate you; you've taken over my life! Go away, just let me have my life back!" she sobbed, screaming hysterically. No message appeared on the pages, no simple 'I love you, Ginny' from Tom.

"Why did you choose me?" she whispered tearfully. "Why do I have to suffer like this? Why don't you say you love me?"

No response from the book. She resisted the urge to slam it shut, to tear it up and force feed Tom with the shredded paper.

"You do love me, right?"

You don't, do you. You don't love me.

"You do," she whispered, desperate for love. Her brother had deserted her for her best friend; Harry had deserted her for Quidditch. Even a sport stood more chance of love than she did.

He doesn't love you, Ginny.

"Yes, he does," she whispered, clinging to her last hope. "Please, he does, I know he does."

When did he ever say it? When did he ever show it? He's always just manipulated you, and like a good girl, you did whatever he told you to do. You were going to send Harry into the snake's den to him. You know what that would have caused.

Ginny's eyes grew wide as this thought hit her.

If she had led Harry into the Chamber, then all Hell would have broken loose. The last hope would be gone. He would take over the world, and then he would leave her behind. He would be able to have any girl in the world once he ruled it. Why would he bother with pathetic little Ginny Weasley?

He wouldn't.

She stared at the diary, her eyes wide. The blank pages stared back, mocking her.

"He doesn't…. love me?" She choked slightly. "I thought…. I thought he truly … loved … me…"

There was a moment of silence. The heat of the bathroom slowly settled upon her, condensing on the mirrors. Holding her breath, she stared at the diary, the realisation sinking in.

Hermione's words came back to her. If he really loved you, he wouldn't make you so unhappy. Please, don't long for someone you can't have. You'll only end up hurt.

"You, you never ... really ... loved ... me…"

The diary slid along the floor as she lashed out with her foot, a quick, smooth motion. "You were the only one who loved me! I thought you cared about me! You were just using me, just, just using me to get to Harry! Do you know what you've done? All my friends, my family, they all stopped caring after you used me those years ago, and now you've done the same thing again! I hate you!"

The diary fell to the floor, and she drew her wand, trembling. The last person who cared, her reason for living, the one thing that kept her going, had gone. What could she do now? There was only one way out of this hell, only one way to ease the pain, to finally let her mind rest. He wouldn't be able to use her any more, she would be safe. She would be free.

"Incendio!"

The diary burst into flames, and she crouched down next to it. Eerie shadows danced across her face as she watched the diary burn. He was out of her life. Now it was her turn to bail out.

"Seca."

The sleeve of her robe was cut away and fluttered onto the fire, fuelling its flames. The long flickering tongues reached up into the air, giving her enough light, in the darkening bathroom, to see what she was doing.

She couldn't just leave. She loved her parents, her family too much to just go, even if they didn't care about her. They needed a reason. She wanted to show them how much she had been hurting, the torture she had been put through for their sakes. She wanted to show them what her love had cost.

What they had done.

What he had done.

"Seca. Seca. Seca." She whispered the spell eagerly, a hungry look on her face as it created cuts along her arm. Not long now. Not long to go before she could finally sleep without haunted dreams of a love lost. Not long before she could go to a new world, a kind world. A world without them, the people who were supposed to care for her, the people she had once loved.

"Seca!" The final cut was in place, rather raggedly as her strength drained. Her arm was a mass of red, dripping on her robes, dripping on the floor, dripping into the flames.

"Please," she whispered, smiling as her vision started to blur. It was almost the end. No more pain, no more heartbreak. No more loneliness. No more feeling, ever.

"Love me." Her last words, drifting on her last breath, hung in the air above her.

"Love me…"

~~

"What do you mean you don't know where she is?" exploded Ron. "You were bloody talking to her!"

"She didn't want me to talk, Ron, because when she did, you forced her away!"

"I thought she'd found out!"

"Of course she had, she'd just walked in on us!"

Harry watched, half amused, half anxious. Where had Ginny got to?

"Colin didn't tell her, did he? About the party?" he asked. Hermione and Ron paused to stare at him.

"Of course. That's it. When I get my hands on that sneaky little blabbermouth I'll-"

Hermione clamped her hand over Ron's mouth. "Not even Colin would ruin her birthday like that, Ron. It's her sixteenth, after all. And he'd only have to wait a few days before she found out, anyway."

"Harry, could we ask some of the ghosts if they've seen her?" asked Ron, worried.

"Don't see why not," he said quietly. "If you two hadn't been making out on my bed, I would have been able to listen to her."

"Don't take the moral high ground with me, Harry Potter. You're the one who kicked your trunk across the room and then ignored her," scolded Hermione. They were standing in the Great Hall, arguing back and forth.

"Yeah, and you're the one who didn't tell her that you were sleeping with her brother," retorted Harry. "And why hasn't your mother been speaking to her?" This last one was aimed at Ron. He looked uncomfortable.

"Mum's visiting Bill, doing work for Dumbledore. She asked me to tell Ginny, but she didn't ever listen to me."

"Listen, we've got to stop arguing! She could be crying her eyes out right now. We've hardly been there for her; we've got to show her that we didn't mean it." Hermione was on the verge of tears, frantic for the safety of her friend.

"Are you looking for your friend?"

"Myrtle!" Harry spun around, shocked to see her outside the bathroom. "Have you seen her?"

"Who?"

"Ginny!" exploded Ron. Hermione placed a calming hand on his arm.

"Yes, she came into my bathroom. Ignored me, of course. Nobody ever cares for poor old Moaning Myrtle." The ghost sniffed. "My bathroom, too, and she threw me out! She's just like that nasty old Olive Hornby, teasing me because of my glasses!" Myrtle let out a loud wail and floated outside, a loud splash sounding as she threw herself into the lake.

"Mental," sighed Ron, staring out of the door at the smooth surface of the lake.

"Ron!" Hermione was already sprinting up the stairs. Ron and Harry followed her, their long strides catching her up with ease.

"Please don't let her have done anything stupid," prayed Ron, taking the lead. Harry and Hermione sent up silent prayers to join his.

Ron took the stairs three at a time, sprinting ahead of Harry and Hermione. Hermione clutched her side, gasping as she tried to keep up with the two boys, Ron way ahead of Harry.

Harry turned around and grabbed Hermione's arm, dragging her up the stairs and following in Ron's footsteps. Ron himself had already reached the bathroom, and was pushing open the door. He stopped, stone still, in the doorway.

His scream echoed around the cold bathroom.

"Ginny!"

~~

Harry and Hermione caught up with Ron, who was shaking, his face pale.

"Gin, Ginny," he whispered, his hands covering his eyes. "Oh, Ginny, I'm sorry, Gin."

Harry was the first to actually enter the bathroom. He let out a loud gasp as he did so, horrified at the sight that met his eyes. Hermione, behind him, gave a small scream.

In the centre of the bathroom, in front of the sink that Harry recognised as the entrance to the chamber, was a pool of blood, soaking the Gryffindor robes of Ginny Weasley. In her hand, her wand was still half-clutched, her fingers red with blood. At her feet, a small fire was dying down, casting a small glow across her feet.

"Ginny." Harry said this one word, fighting back his tears. He fell to the floor, ignoring the pain as his knees hit the cold marble. "Ginny."

Why had he ignored her? Why couldn't he have spoken to her? Why was he so selfish? First Cedric, then Sirius, and now Ginny. All his fault.

"Harry," whispered Hermione, her face pale with shock. She crawled forward. "Is she really …?"

"Yes," answered Harry shortly. Ron let out a heart-wrenching wail behind him.

"Ginny! No!" He scrambled forward, tossing Harry and Hermione out of the way to reach Ginny's still form. "Ginny, please wake up! Please!"

"Ron, I'm so sorry." Hermione put her hand on his shoulder as he gathered his sister in his arms. He shook her hand away, and buried his face in Ginny's limp hair.

"Ginny, please wake up, please," he whispered desperately. He had been a bad brother, he hadn't protected his sister, hadn't been there for her. This was all his fault.

Hermione bit her lip, tears starting to flow down her face. If only she'd let Ginny talk, if only she'd done her job as a prefect, as a friend, as Ginny's friend, then Ginny wouldn't be here, all alone in the cold bathroom, feeling unwanted.

"Did she- did she leave a message?" asked Harry, his voice cracking. If there was no message, then she had been killed, murdered, and he could find someone to kill, someone to feel the pain that he was feeling now.

"I, I don't know." Ron broke down into sobs, each one piercing the air and their hearts.

"Someone must have done this to her! She wouldn't just - just do this!" Harry was searching for an answer, some logical reason. Ginny wouldn't kill herself. "Would she?"

"She wouldn't!" Ron's voice was muffled as he clung to Ginny, his head buried in her shoulder. "She wouldn't!"

"Ron, maybe we should …" Hermione's voice trailed off as Ginny's bare arm was jerked into sight. It was completely covered in blood. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth, feeling nauseous.

"Oh my God!"

"Sweet Merlin!"

Harry and Ron's simultaneous shouts echoed around the bathroom. No one moved. Now they realised that she had done this herself. She had wanted to leave them, wanted to die.

"Why?" Ron's voice was hoarse. He couldn't believe it. This was all a bad dream, any minute now he'd wake up and Ginny would be sitting in the common room, smiling cheerfully and telling him how Harry had asked her out.

"Oh Ron." Hermione put her arm over his shoulders. "Oh, no, Ron…"

He leant his head against her, blue eyes swimming with tears. "Hermione, why did she do it?"

"I don't know, Ron, I don't know."

"Maybe she's not dead. Maybe she's just unconscious! Maybe we're wasting time and she could still be alive!" cried Ron, searching for another answer. Harry silently reached out and took her arm, his hand staining red as he felt for a pulse. His searching fingers felt the cuts in her arm forming a shape.

"There's no pulse, Ron. But..." He wiped at her arm, trying to see clearly what shape she had left in her arm.

"What's the matter?" asked Hermione. Ron was too stricken to speak. His little sister, his beloved confidante, was gone…

"Wash her arm," said Harry quietly, hoping not to cause more distress for Ron. Hermione stared, and then slowly took her wand.

"Abluo." A small stream of water gushed from her wand, and she directed it over Ginny's arm. Once clean, she let out a small gasp.

Ginny's message was the very thing that had killed her.

"What, what does it say?" asked Ron weakly, staring at the shapes in Ginny's arm. His vision was blurred by his tears.

Harry's fingers traced the cuts, a lump in his throat. He could hardly bear to speak the words aloud.

"It says 'please love me'," he managed finally, his voice barely a whisper. Ron and Hermione both let out anguished cries.

"I should have listened to her-"

"I should have been a better brother-"

"-It's all my fault," they said together, voices cracking.

"It's my fault." Harry clutched at Ginny's robes. "I should have told her sooner. I just thought, it would be more special on her birthday…" He blinked and wiped away what would be the first of many tears. "I loved her so much."

"Why did she light a fire, though?" Hermione's attention was drawn to the pile of smouldering ash at Ginny's feet. Ron shrugged; the working of his sister's mind was beyond his grasp at the moment. He could feel nothing, he was numb, except for the gaping hole in his heart that Ginny had occupied.

"She was burning paper," said Harry, noticing a few pieces still left among the ashes. "Maybe, maybe it'll tell us something." Harry glanced cautiously at Ron. He didn't want to cause him any more pain at the moment. He didn't want to cause anyone any more pain.

Ron waved his hand. "Harry… will you look? I, I want to see why she felt so unloved…. if it's my fault…" A tear fell from his cheek onto Ginny's pale cheek.

"Ron, I'm sure it wasn't your fault," said Hermione comfortingly, inwardly blaming herself. Harry leaned over, his hand still clasping Ginny's, and searched for any clues amongst the ash. A charred piece of paper fell out, and they stared at the still legible writing, a familiar name.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.