It was late August where he sat, toes halfway in the thick, lush grass surrounding this haven. His black slacks hovered over his ankle that had once been unseen, previously covered by thick black boots. A person observing from far away, perhaps fifty feet, would assume the boy in the grass was playing with a strange, red-headed doll. Someone closer, that is, someone quiet enough to get close to the clever teen would realise that the boy was not playing with the doll, he was destroying it.

The dark haired teenager held a small, fold-in knife in the palm of his hand, where he would visciously slice the red-headed doll through the chest, causing the stuffing to fall out with ease. Soon after the doll was sliced through, however, it magically repaired itself, returning to it's original form, letting the boy continue on his torture of the inatimate fluff. Any viewing person perhaps now would have fled in terror, if not from the doll, but the boy, all the while grinning in inhuman pleasure, his deep, ageless grey eyes lighting up in utter amusement.

Of course, there was no other existing being in this plane, smaller than it seemed, the infinite stretch of grass giving the illusion of plenty of space was to be found. Unfortunately, it was not.

The boy played with the doll a bit longer, it next turning to a boy-doll, with black hair like his own, but round spectacles and what looked curiously like a lighting-bolt scar on his forehead, but almost unnoticable, what with the messy hair atop his head. The boy did the same to the boy-doll as he did to the redhead girl-doll, severing it's torso from it's legs, only to reappear again, good as new.

Soon the teen grew bored, as all sixteen year olds do eventually, and the doll disappeared, along with the knife. The boy then crossed his hand, palm facing the scenery, as though he was going to wipe an invisible blackboard.

"Enough of this." He said to noone.

Immediately the scenery changed to the original look this small plane harbored. A black, pure black room, decorated with swirling, lazy purple lights. He liked this darkness, but sometimes it grew tiresome to be in the same place day in and day out, and he liked to flex his last remaining powers available in this plane. He had deduced that, after his first estimated month in the plane, that his powers were not on the fritz but something far worse.

"They were taken from me." Tom Riddle said angrily.

He had been here three months, he had guessed, ever since that fool of a mudblood Potter destroyed his diary, therefore plunging hin into this realm. He had assumed it was a form of the spirit world, and perhaps, after reading so much on the different planes of death while he was still as student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this one was where the near-dead stayed until they were truly dead, by means of their location. Since Tom had been sent to this place from Hogwarts itself, he resided here, the least likely place another person would die. Damn. Tom was hoping one would fall into this realm, better even if it were someone that fool Harry Potter and that foolish pure-blood Ginevra Weasley were close to, so he could finally kill them. Properly.

But still Tom waited, in vain, maybe, but he just had to wait for some foolish child to slip downstairs, or get eaten by that giant squid Ginevra had mentioned. He felt it in his bones, Tom knew he would be out soon, to return to Hogwarts and wreak the vengance he has waited for.

Bookbag slung over his shoulder, his silvery blonde hair perfectly trimmed and every hair in place, the saucy seventeen year old Draco Malfoy sauntered into his Charms class just as the loud bell signaled the beginning of class. He sat in the farthest seat of the room as usual, greeting a few of the females in his House with a sexy half-smile on his way there, taking his book from his bag, wand from pocket and laying them on the empty desk.

"Vincent and Gregory in trouble again?" Pansy asked sweetly from in front of him. She looked slightly miffed that she didn't recieve the smile reserved for the more attractive girls in the class but didn't mention it. "At least he didn't do that to a Hufflepuff." He knew she was thinking.

"Yeah, McGonagall caught them stuffing rotten bakery items into Creeveys trousers." Draco replied, pulling out some parchment and quill as he waited for Professor Flitwick to arrive.

"They didn't try to eat them first?" Pansy questioned him

"Of course they did. They had them in their robes when it went through the wash, apparently, before eating them. Or trying to, that is." he added.

"Mmm." She replied as Flitwick strode into the room.

"Ok, boys and girls,"he said in a squeaky voice, natural for one of his size, a puny two feet tall. "you can put your books and parchment away for now, we are going to learn the Reductor Charm. Now everyone stand up with your wands and place yourselves away from the tables!" He near shouted.

Waving his wand, he charmed the tables to slide to the walls, leaving plenty of room in the center for half of the school to sit inside comfortably. He spelled some cushions to soar into the student's arms, and Draco caught his deftly.

Once the Professor saw to it that every student had his or her own cushion, he taught them the spell.

"Now, the Reductor Charm is simple to use, mostly for those who need to get a solid object out of their way, like a student of the school actually used three years ago in the Triwizard Tournment!" He cried.

Draco knew he was talking about Potter, his arch enemy, the half-blood that sent his father to Azkaban two years ago. He felt a wave of hate boil his blood and he relaxed as he set his mind to the task of learning this ridiculous spell.

"All you need to do, kids, is point your wand at the cushion and say: Reducto! And, with luck, you will blast a hole straight through it! Practice with this and please repair the pillows after you use the spell!." And he left to his desk next to Draco, drinking from this hideously large drinking goblet. Since they were lined up facing another person, in front of him, about ten feet was a Hufflepuff Draco recognized vaguely as Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Finch-Fletchley was trying to blow a hole in his cushion that was laid on the floor before him, but kept saying the word wrong.

"Reducktoe" He said, shaking his wand wildly, now no longer pointed at the pillow. Draco rolled his eyes as he resumed to charming his pillow. Reducto, you stupid badger, Draco said to himself. He held his wand high...

"Educto!" Justin's voice pierced into his thoughts. He was about to look up when he heard the shattering of glass, the sqeaky shout of Flitwick, and a horrible pain in Draco's abdomen, worse even when his father used to practice some torture curses on him when he was in trouble.

Draco looked down. Inside his chest was a large, thick pane of glass from one of the windows behind him. Feeling it jut from his back, the sharp, thick piece of glass protuded from his chest in a point. Without even looking, Draco knew that the end of the glass was shaped almost like a sythe. Putting his hand to the wound, he tried to pull the foot long wedge of glass out of his abdomen weakly. Instead, he only managed to slice his fingers up severely. Mind swimming, hearing nothing but his heart trying in vain to pump to his brain, he slid down to the floor as he gave into the pain and saw nothing but black.

Ginny plopped on the bed in her four-poster bed in the sixth years girls room, weary after a long day. Double Potions with Snape and Transfiguration with McGonagall, she was pooped! After a quick lunch, Ginny ran up to her room to rest during study hour instead of meeting her friend, Luna Lovegood in the library. Entering the common room, she had ignored Hermione and Harry, who were engaging in tonsil hockey in a far corner of the room, nearly running into Ron, who had been on his way out. Now in her room, she spelled herself with a simple alarm charm to awaken in an hour. She was rather stresed lately. The workload her teachers had thrownd on her in her sixth year seemed worse even during their OWL's last year. She hoped skipping Study Hour will help her relax and get some more rest, and if she was lucky she could avoid the nightmares of Tom that had plagued her since she was eleven. Nightmares that left her crying when she woke. Not that it happened every night, she thought to herself. just more than she wanted, that's all.

She wished more than ever now that she could have someone to confide in. Luna was a great friend, and she could tell her things about the Dark Lord that none, other than Harry, Hermione and Ron of course knew of, but Ginny was looking for a different kind of friend. A boy-friend. Maybe not boyfriend, but someone she can look to for guidance, now that all of her brothers were so busy. Charlie and Bill were both out of the country, working both in the Order and doing their respectable jobs as a dragon keeper and Gringotts treasure-searcher. Percy was still Weasley trouble, and still won't go home. Fred and George were both having massive success at their joke shop, Weasley's Wizards Wheezes, too busy to visit Ginny. And Ron... Ginny tried to understand why her closest brother was avoiding not only her, but Harry and Hermione, Ron's closest friends. Ever since Harry and Hermione got together towards the end of their sixth year, Ginny's fifth, Ron had started avoiding being with them all the time. He still was around them, but when Harry and Hermione got the titles as Head Boy and Girl, she almost didn't even see them together at all. Ginny tried to force these thoughts from her mind and will her body to sleep. Her eyes feeling more and more similar to lead, she gave in to her exhaustion and slept. And dreamt.

Tom could feel it in his blood, the way his ancient cells twisted in and out in a torrent, his beating heart. It was finally time. He had been reclining in a straight backed chair, a deep green, when he saw it. A momentary flicker of another existance. Getting up from the chair, he walked to where he thought he saw it.

Saw it. He thought to himself. It was no illusion, he knew.

He waited. And after one agonizing minute, It appeared again, disappearing after only two seconds. Twice as long as last time, he waited. The boy looked so familiar. He reminded Tom of someone that he couldn't place. Someone Ginevra had spoken of once, so long ago. Then, by the time the boy appeared again, Tom already had a plan.

After only thirty seconds, he appeared, not even seeming to notice Tom, and he jumped, straight into the figure and felt the sucking motion not unlike being pulled in by a portkey. Or diary. Tom couldn't help but laugh insanely as he knew he was returning to Hogwarts, to home. And to finally exact his revenge.

Ginny was talking to Tom again. She watched him come up to her, to take her to the Chamber of Secrets. She pulled away from him, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and began to shake her, hard.

"No, stop Tom! I don't want to go with you!"

"Ginny!"

"Leave me alone! Go away!"

"Ginny!"

She woke up. Luna was in her room, her raven earrings dangling from her ears. Luna had been shaking the redhead by the shoulders, urging her to awaken from her sleep. Glancing at the clock she saw class started in twenty minutes, but that didn't explain why Luna woke her and how she got in Gryffindor tower.

"Hermione let me in." Luna answered her thoughts.

Ginny sat up, her blanket on the floor. Luna sat at another of the girls beds as Ginny swiftly threw the blanket on her bed, detirmined not to talk about her dream. Luna seemed to understand as Ginny sat back down on her bed.

"So what's the alarm, Luna?" Ginny asked her blonde friend.

"I thought you would appreciate the news." Luna gossiped. Ginny hoped it had better be good to wake her up, but she somehow knew that Luna had known she needed to be risen from the terror of her nightmare.

"What happened?" she asked at last.

"Draco Malfoy was nearly killed in Charms class about, half an hour ago."

"What?!" Ginny was truly shocked. She never liked the older boy, his hatred for her family and her friends left no love lost. She still, however, felt a stab of sympathy as Luna described what had happened to the handsome Slytherin.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley, you know, that 7th year Hufflepuff had misdirected a spell at a window behind Malfoy instead of the pillow he was supposed to be aiming at. He said the spell wrong, and instead of it blowing a hole in the window, he had said a curse that apparently spears destiny to the one worthy of it. At least, that's what McGonagall said when some kids had asked her. When the window was hit, it sent a huge pointed chunk of itself straight at Malfoy. He's in the hospital wing now. They're trying to somehow get the glass out of him without killing him."

"So we don't know if he's gonna live or not?" She asked Luna. She shook her head.

"They don't know, but I do. He will live." Luna said confidently. Ginny was bewildered. What was happening at Hogwarts?