A/N: Diary!Tom tries his experiment for the first time. one-sided!Tom/Ginny. Set in CoS.

Submission for:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): Alchemy Assignment #10 - Write about some kind of experiment.

The 50:50 Competition - Match 2: Horcruxes. Prompt: Tom/Ginny.

Open Category 5 Competition: Canon

The Sims 3 Progression Challenge!: Ambitious

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

He floated in the nether region, his existence insubstantial and formless even within the pages of this old leather-bound journal. But he waited patiently (though impatiently at times) as his creator had told him to do. Soon they would be reunited and he would be more useful, more active, more deadly. All he had to do was wait.

He had been away, lost in the musing of himself when he noticed the presence of another. This was it. After so long (how long? he didn't know), his creator had returned, his creator was ready.

"... and the girls are quite horrid, teasing me about my hair and my freckles and my clothes. It's not my fault I have to wear Ron's old robes that he spilt pumpkin juice on but..."

"Hello?" he thought, the words coming out on the pages as the only way he knew to communicate with the outside world.

There was a pause, hesitance, and he knew this was not his creator. His creator was powerful, cunning and always sure of himself. His creator would not be alarmed or cautious of his response.

"Hello." The word floated around him, the fear dripping off the letters and confirming his beliefs. This was someone else, an impostor who had somehow found the journal and had no idea what he was.

But then he hatched a plan, one which would free him from this place and bring him closer to his creator.

"I'm Tom. Who are you?" he asked, with the most sincere curiosity he could push through the parchment.

Another pause, more contemplation, before an answer came back. "I'm Ginny."

As time went on, their relationship strengthened. Ginny would write on his pages, leaking all her girlish woes in ink for him to listen to. All her messages oozed love and affection towards him, and no matter how nauseated it made him feel, he would return them. He would comfort her, he would encourage her. He would make her blush with his compliments. He would make her laugh and forget about the mean girls and her horrible grades. And with each of his messages, he pushed a little bit of his consciousness outwards.

But now it was time to test his plans.

"... and then Emily was boasting about her plans for Christmas. She's going skiing in France with her mother and sister, and out onto the isles to..."

"Ginny, are you tired?" he wrote back, interrupting her god-awfully long story.

"It is kind of late actually. Maybe I should turn in."

"Yes, you do have that Transfiguration test tomorrow, and it's good to sleep after you've studied. It'll help you remember."

"You always know best, Tom. Goodnight."

The messages stopped, and he waited a few moments before he stretched himself, pushing beyond the edges of his realm, pushing through the darkness not even he was sure would open into the light.

And then he stopped, suddenly feeling... heavy. He opened his eyes (eyes?) and saw himself in a small room with four beds arranged in a circle against the walls. The curtains and carpets were varying shades of maroon and gold, and a small door was behind him.

He lifted his hands (hands?), and turned them over in front of his face. They were pale and small, slightly pudgy but definitely female.

Then he smiled, the edges of his red hair tickling his raised cheekbones. His experiment had worked.