I wanted to write a Tom/Ginny fanfic. So I guess here we are. Angsty near the end, maybe a little OOC for Riddle, but hey, I think almost everybody has potential for regret. It just depends on the circumstances. If you think he's a total monster with no chance of redemption, then we see eye-to-eye on the man, but not the boy. You'd probably be better off not reading this.

Also, the "-i-" indicates a small break or timeskip, since it wouldn't let me put my usual three-hyphen set.

Anyway, I don't own Harry Potter. I'm not that much of a genius.

"Please, Tom… Don't leave. Never leave."

"We're forever intertwined. I'll always be with you."

-i-

"Ginevra!"

Splash. The tears wouldn't stop coming, he could hear her shrieks as she ran out of the bathroom, away from him.

-i-

He would know that touch anywhere, lifting the diary away from the possessions of his nemesis.

"What are you doing?"

"I… You're dangerous, Tom."

"I never said I wasn't."

"Then why do you always-"

"Everyone has potential to be so, Ginevra. Your precious Harry is dangerous. Your brothers, your parents, everyone you know is dangerous. You know that. They've all hurt you."

"You hurt me too."

"You threw me into a toilet. I daresay we're even."

There was an uncharacteristically long pause between Riddle's sharp retort and the youngest Weasley's response.

"Are you going to hurt me again?"

"No."

"You won't make me kill anyone?"

"Not anymore. It's time."

"You just said-"

"It won't hurt. It's completely painless."

Ginny paused again. "What do I have to do?"

"Just let me in."

"Every time I do that, someone gets hurt."

"I'll let you see, if you want to. Just so you can make sure that nothing happens on the way there. I would never hurt you on purpose."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

-i-

Here he was, the memory turning to flesh and bone. Or at least, would be very soon. It was nearly time for the revival of the greatest wizard to ever live.

"Tom?"

"Yes?"

"Will you hold my hand while I go?"

Poor, innocent Ginevra Weasley. Willing to give her entire life for him… Had he not been so lost in thought, or so disconnected from his heart, maybe he could have felt a slight pang of guilt bubble up to the surface.

"Of course."

A beaming, freckled face turned toward him, her red hair swaying. "Thank you. You'll be with me?"

"Always." The memory smiled in return, the show of appreciation and affection coming naturally for once for a reason he couldn't explain. "Now just relax. This won't hurt."

He held her face gently, maybe even tenderly had he been a different person, and leaned in toward her.

The brief, chaste kiss Tom Riddle used to begin the process of stealing the life of Ginny Weasley was the first he had ever experienced. He'd smiled again, let her down onto the grimy floor, holding her hand all the while. She smiled weakly and squeezed, and when she closed her eyes and went limp, he finally realized he could let go of her hand. And now, staring at her on the chamber floor, the iridescent puddles framing her body and giving her a seemingly otherworldly glow, he felt himself growing stronger.

As Ginny became colder, he became real, and yet there was a sudden emptiness in his chest that he couldn't explain. His old school robes billowed as he turned and walked away, experiencing the emotion of guilt for the first time he could ever remember.

When Harry Potter entered the chamber too late and found the youngest Weasley dead, the boy who would be Voldemort cried.