*a.n* this is just a little idea I had in my science class about Ginny and the Chamber of secrets—it may not be any good, but I wrote it in about an hour, so give me some slack. I don't own the characters, but oh, well.
At first I thought Daddy had given me a going-away present. He always does things like that, since I'm his only girl. And he knows how much I love to write, and now I had a private place I could make into my own little world, perfect and serene.
Then I wrote in it. And I found that my private world wasn't so private anymore…
But I didn't mind. I could never mind Tom Riddle. He was so gentle to me—I had never known gentle—how could I have? For most of my life, I had been alone, the only girl in an entire family of boys. They never understood…
And brilliant—Tom was a genius! He told me about so many things—Art, literature, spells.
He was my teacher, my counselor, the one who listened when no one ever would. My best and closest friend in the world.
So of course I told him everything. How much I loved Harry, how lonely the Hogwarts halls were at night, everything. And he listened and laughed and cried with me.
I'm not sure exactly what happened—the days are all a blur. But I do know that it got to the point that I couldn't go anywhere without him. Worse, I started blanking out and finding myself sprawled in the pumpkin patch, or next to the Girl's bathroom, all sorts of places.
Tom was just as kind as ever, but here and there he would slip—and a different Tom would shine through. I didn't like him—he was cruel. But I didn't get rid of him.
I'm not saying I didn't try. I tried—I threw away, and for those next three days, I was a free woman.
But then he came back. No—not with me—with Harry. I saw them together and I panicked.
I couldn't let Tom have Harry.
So I took him back. I took the addiction and the fear and the blackouts and my wonderful world that wasn't so wonderful back.
And now I'm in a dark room and I don't know where I am and I'm scared.
"Tom?" my voice quivers. I don't expect him to respond—after all, he's just a book
But…
"Virginia…" that voice is not mine. I turn and there's Tom and he's not a book anymore, he has a body, real pale and misty like a ghost, but a body. And he's smiling at me; that make me feel a little better.
"Tom, where are we? I don't remember coming here—I must have blacked out again. Do you know how to get out?"
He smiles.
"Of course."
I try to stand. "Good. Then let's go—"
He cuts me off. "What do you mean? You're not leaving…"
"…"
"No. I'm leaving. You're staying."
"Wh—…what?" I'm feeling weak, and I slip off my feet onto the cold stone.
"Of course. You wanted your own little world?" He holds his arms and spins; his smile widens into a sneer.
"I brought you to one. So you don't like it? Tough. You're staying."