And here we have it.

The start of the sequel.

If you were thinking about starting here, i would suggest reading Covert Attentions first.

Otherwise, this will make seemingly no sense.

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Ginny felt like she was gagged; probably one of Harry's spells. His arms slid past her waist and were gripping the broomstick handle solemnly. His heavy, ragged breathing was distracting her, as she tried to keep track of where they were going. They had left Hogwarts behind, and the Time-Turner Harry had stolen was jingling against her back. She couldn't move (another spell of Harry's), otherwise she would have been free of Harry a long time ago. Ginny didn't have the slightest idea where Harry could be taking her, although she was trying desperately not to think of her dream.

She began to see the lights of London; it was hard to miss such a spectacle. It seems Harry had been bypassing the other towns, but had set his sights on the dark, crowded streets of London… where anything could happen. And it usually did happen.

Harry touched onto the damp grass, a few miles away from London. She could almost smell the chaos, the prostitutes pacing their routes, the murderers in the dark, the danger in the dark alleyways. Harry muttered something, casting a warm-liquid feeling over Ginny's body. Where did he get his wand from? I thought they had snapped it! Apparently not. Now she could feel the blood coming slowly back into her limbs, and managed to lift her arms halfheartedly before Harry had slipped a cold arm around her waist, guiding her to the beginnings of London.

It seemed as if her mind had turned into mush; all her thoughts of rebellion against the touch of Harry seemed to dissipate into an obedient stream of commands: "follow Harry, one foot in front of the other, I wonder where we're going?" It was almost as if Ginny didn't have the strength to rebel. It's just another one of Harry's spells.. Or was it because it seemed as though she were walking to the gallows, a prisoner sentenced to death, and not guilty of the crime?

Soon Ginny found herself immersed in the Muggle world; there were automobiles, loud noises, flashing electric lights, and careless Muggles. Still, Harry led her deeper into the city, dodging people with a maniac speed. His stride was purposeful, and he seemed to have a good head of where he was going. The numbness in her mind was slowly starting to flow off, as it was replaced by curiousity.

They neared the centre of the city, and Harry turned sharply to the left, heading down a seemingly empty alley. He tapped a brick on one of the walls (almost like Harry had entered Diagon Alley from the Muggle World) and pulled Ginny into a cold, dark room. From what she could see of it, it was sparsely furnished, with only one sofa sitting in the middle of the wooden floor.

A voice broke the silence casually, and Ginny froze in alarm.

"Harry… bring her here."

The voice was unlike any Ginny had ever heard.. Or had she heard it long ago, in the Chamber of Secrets? Harry dragged her over to an open doorway, pushing her into the room before him and shutting the door behind him. A fire was crackling in the fireplace, and a large armchair was faced towards it, away from Ginny.

"Ginerva Weasley, daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley… soon to be the wife of Tom Riddle." Tom? But the last time I talked to Tom Riddle was through the diary.. How could this possibly be Tom? Then she gasped. Tom had turned into Voldemort. Which could only mean that the person that was in the chair was..

"Yes, that's right, Ginny. It's been too long since our last little chat. You didn't think, after exploring your little memory, after leading you to the Chamber.. You didn't think that I would forget you?"

"But.. Harry.."

"Impervious curse, darling."

Had that been the reason he had beat her? Had it really been Voldemort, punishing her?

"For how.. long?"

"You needed to be punished, dear. You disobeyed me. You remember what I told you, before that bloody Potter child crashed into the Chamber.."

Ginny, listen to me. I need you to promise me. Promise me you will never speak to the Malfoys. We share a love that Lucius' child will try to take away.. I know he will. Promise me, Ginny.

It had been so long ago… Ginny had forgotten. Forgotten, for all of these years, what Voldemort, what Tom Riddle, had said. She had broken her promise, although she wasn't sure she had promised, at all. Suddenly, the figure stood, turning around.

Ginny had been expecting the ghostly pale, slit-nosed, serpent-like Voldemort. Instead, in front of her was Tom Riddle, a wry smile on his handsome face. Immediately, she felt a rush of feelings, including old passions, rising up again to stifle her thoughts.

She fought against his spell horribly, trying to recall the thought of Draco, grinning slightly, watching her out of the corner of his eye. But it all seemed too far off, and she couldn't conjure his image.

"Tom.."

He raised his arms to embrace her.

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