A/N - I can't even BEGIN to describe how horrid I feel. I haven't updated in forever. And no, I don't mean little kid forever, mommy's going on a two week vacation and won't be back for forever, forever. I am awful. I am a terrible, terrible person. If you're reading this, it means you are an amazing person. Fantastic! Incredible, really! And I cannot thank you enough for continuing to read my story. This chapter is twice as long as my usual ones and I'm not allowing myself to leave the house until the next chapter is up either, and I'll make it the same length! I really am a terrible person. I am sooooo sorry. I don't have the words to describe how sorry and frog-like I am. I am a frog. Please forgive me, oh amazing ones.

Please enjoy chapter 21. And if you haven't completely lost faith in me yet, I hope this chapter gives you a reason for why you've held out. I will get better. I promise. I know I've promised before but now I really promise. I am so sorry.

Disclaimer: JKR isn't a frog. I am.

I should have known it was too good to be true. I liked Tom and Tom liked me and that was great. But had Tom ever been in a relationship before? No. Have I ever been in a situation like this ever before? Definitely no.

I don't know what I was expecting out of this relationship but it certainly wasn't this. Tom and I have been fighting on-and-off for weeks now. Neither of us is willing to open up to the other and spill our secrets. I refuse to talk about my past and he tenses up whenever I mention his. He forbids me from asking about his future and I don't want to talk about mine (because it's currently in the hands of a time turner's ability to bring me home). Our arithmancy tutoring sessions are complete bull. He sits there and does his homework while I struggle through mine. If I ask a question he tells me to look it up in the textbook. If I complain that I don't understand it he tells me to be quiet and let him study. I've threatened to go to Dippet, but it was an empty threat—Dippet hates me and wouldn't care. What's worse is that we fight about the most insignificant things! Just yesterday we were fighting over pillows.

"Hey Tom," I say as he sits down next to me on the couch.

"Hello."

"How was your day?" I ask him, trying to start a conversation. Tom glances at me with an odd expression.

"The same as yours I suppose. We had all the same classes." He answers finally. It's quiet for a while and I shift my weight uncomfortably. Things have been awkward for the past few days. We had a really bad fight on Wednesday and have been treading carefully ever since.

"Can you pass me that pillow?" I ask, pointing. He jabs at it.

"This one?" I nod. "The one I'm sitting on?"

"Or the other one. I don't really care." I reply, shrugging. Tom guffaws.

"You're asking me to give you the pillow I'm using?" The tone he's using hits something inside me and I sit up straighter.

"You're not really using it; it's just sitting next to you." I protest. "My back is bugging me and I need another pillow."

Tom sits up straighter, challenging me. "Well I'm using this pillow."

Angrily, I gesture widely with my arm, pointing a finger toward the other pillow. "So give me the other one." My voice is strong, pissed off, and demanding.

"No." His is strong, pissed off, and determined. I rise up even higher on the couch, practically on my knees.

"I need another pillow." I grind out.

"So get one from another couch." Tom bites. I jump to my feet and grab at the one behind him.

"I want that one!" I'm screaming now. A bunch of younger Slytherins have stopped studying to watch and our friends (well, mine really) are frozen in place waiting to spring into action if wands are drawn (which is unlikely because despite both our tempers, no magic has been used in a fight yet).

"What is wrong with you?" Tom shouts, grabbing back at the pillow.

"MY BACK HURTS!" I holler. I reach out and grab a pillow off another couch and throw it at Tom. It hits him square in the face and he lets out an "oof".

"Fine! Take the fucking pillow for Merlin's sake!" He yells, throwing it at me. I side step the pillow and spin around, intending to run to my room. "Hey!" Tom shouts, hitting me again with a pillow.

I spin back around, glaring. "What?"

"What about the pillow?" He asks at normal volume but with the most scathing tone a Slytherin can manage.

"I don't want it anymore."

And with that I pivot on my heel, grab Cassie and lock myself up in my room.

A few hours later at dinner, I apologized for being a crazy hag and Tom mumbled a "sorry" back.

Really, it was getting ridiculous. I have come to the conclusion, then, that neither Tom nor I were ready for this relationship and I plan to tell him this when I next see him. Which would be now.

"You okay?" Cassie asks me softly. She stayed with me last night while I got my anger and then tears out of my system, and she has stayed with me since the end of classes so that she'll be close by when I talk to Tom.

I nod and motion for her to give us some space. Being Cassie, she opens her mouth about three more times without saying anything and then finally gets up and leaves. I watch as she sits down next to Terry and Kendall and strikes up a conversation. I would so much rather be in that conversation than the one I'm about to start.

"Hey Tom." I greet, crossing my arms nervously and uncrossing them because I don't want to seem unsure.

"We weren't ready for this Ginerva." He says in return. I jerk back in shock. What did he just say? "I know what you're thinking and—"

The prat is reading my mind now? How the hell did he manage that?

"No."

"No? It's not a question Ginerva." Did I say no? That's right, I did say no. I have officially changed my mind. We are perfectly ready for this relationship. I don't care if Tom doesn't think we are. We are two teenagers, calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend. We're not getting married. It's not a huge commitment. And I'll be damned if this mind-reading, future Dark Lord, and gorgeous hunk of teenage boy breaks up with me.

"We are not quitting this relationship." I declare strongly. Tom's brow furrows as if he is trying to decide if I'm actually saying what I'm saying.

"Are you skilled in occlumency?" So he really was reading my mind! Damn, now I need to learn occlumency!

"We are still in this relationship Tom. As teenagers, we are by definition, ready for this relationship. Whether or not we are willing to make it work…" I trail off, looking up at him through my eyelashes.

"Are you proposing we give it more time?" He clarifies. I force a smile and nod.

"Yes. Let's give it more time. Let's try not to fight. Let's go into Hogsmeade tomorrow and spend some time together outside of classes." I suggest, hoisting myself up onto the back of the couch and cross my legs at the ankles.

"I had planned to study tomorrow."

"One day not studying won't kill you." I answer, shrugging.

"I have extra credit work to do."

"Any extra credit work is due on Fridays, which is today. And your grades are perfect already." If he comes up with another excuse I will stab him I swear.

"It's not work for any class." My eyes form a glare I have to physically resist the urge to grab for something strong and pointy.

"Tom Riddle, I am your girlfriend. If you plan to make this relationship work you will spend the day with me tomorrow." There is a threatening tone to my voice and I definitely intend for him to recognize it. In fact, I want him to get the message so clearly that I actually try to project my thoughts of his murder (should he not spend tomorrow with me) into his legimency-knowing mind.

Hopping down off the couch, I kiss his cheek and start to walk away. "I will see you here at ten-thirty tomorrow morning. Have a good night."

I wake up early the next morning, because I actually did have some work I had to get done. The deadline for an essay was Monday and since I had the fight with Tom Thursday night, I forgot to turn it in on time, on Friday. Mom always said if a boy starts negatively affecting your school work, he's not the right boy to be with. Unfortunately, my damn Gryffindor pride forbade me from ending this relationship on account of that would be quitting and Gryffindors don't quit. Well, they do, but only for really, really good reasons. And I didn't have any of those.

I quickly finish my essay, trek down to Professor Slughorn's office, slip it under his door with a note attached, and go back to bed for another blissful hour of sleep.

"Sorry I'm late. I caught a second year trying to sneak out with a group of third years." I explain, bounding into the common room at 10:45.

"Sneak out of the dorms?" Cassie asks. Oh Cassie… she really should phrase her questions differently or don't ask them at all.

"She meant that they were trying to go to Hogsmeade." Tristan explained, chuckling.

"Can we go now?" Tom asks rudely. I sigh loudly and take his hand.

"Yes, Tom, we can go now." With that he starts to practically drag me out of the portrait hole and down the corridor. Tristan and Cassie chase behind us, whispering things I really don't want to listen to.

The walk into Hogsmeade is uneventful. We walk along, not speaking, not doing anything, and not thinking really much of anything either, I assume. Tristan and Cassie are still whispering, which is about as eventful as this walk into Hogsmeade is.

"Where do you want to go first?" I ask Tom, attempting to break the silence that has lasted us the entire walk. He looks down at me and then back out to the road in front of us.

"I'm meeting Abraxas in The Three Broomsticks at eleven-thirty." He replies flatly. Control the anger, Ginny. Don't do anything stupid. Breathe… count to ten…. Okay, now speak.

"Until eleven-thirty, then?" Tom says nothing. "Well do you have a favorite shop here?"

"I don't come into Hogsmeade much. I didn't get permission until last year and since then I've only come if I had to."

"Well I like Honeydukes." Tom stops walking suddenly, causing me to be yanked backwards and my arm to be tugged too hard for its liking.

"How do you know about Honeydukes?" Oh shit! I'm not supposed to have ever been here before. Does Honeydukes have stores elsewhere? I'm sure they do… except, I've never heard of any.

"My family visited here on vacation once." I fib. Tom stares at me long and hard, and I completely avoid direct eye contact. "Honeydukes, then?"

I pull Tom in the direction of Honeydukes and remember to stop at a side-street and look around as if I don't recall exactly where the shop was. Tom points in the right direction and I smile and laugh.

Could one kill fakeness? Is fakeness kill-able? Because there is a whole lot of fakeness seeping from my pores right about now.

"I know you're lying to me. You don't have to laugh and pretend you're not." Tom hisses angrily. I sigh and slump my shoulders.

"I'm not lying. I've been to Hogsmeade before with my family." There. That's not a lie. I have been to Hogsmeade before with my family!

"Fine."

"Fine."

What is it about relationships that change people so much? When we weren't in a relationship we could hold a normal conversation (when we didn't hate each other, mind you) and talk about our lives. What was it about having a title that made us so cold toward each other? That night when we patrolled together we talked about everything! The night we got together we couldn't keep our hands to ourselves. Now that we have titles and an actual relationship, why is everything so different? It just doesn't make sense.

I wander through Honeydukes taking this candy and that off the shelves without really looking at what they are. I guess it's just muscle memory but I don't even have to tell my feet where to go to get to my chocolate. Tom follows me through the store, muttering rudely about how I'm going to get fat, and do I even have the money to pay for all that chocolate? I don't, of course, but I have a system.

When we get in line I start to go through all the candy. I remove about half of it from the shopping bag and hand it to Tom.

"Could you put these back for me?" He raises an eyebrow and doesn't move. "Please?"

After what seems like a very rowdy mental argument, Tom removes himself from the line and goes to put everything back. He's back within seconds and I push a third of what I have left into his hands.

"And don't just dump it into the first barrel you see. Have some class." He glares at me but goes to put the "discards" away.

I pay while he's away and we make our way back onto Main Street.

"We still have ten minutes before you have to meet Abraxas. Do you want to do anything?"

"No, thank you." I roll my eyes at the curtness, but offer him a fizzing whizbee anyways. "Ginny, could you go save a table at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Where are you going?" Please don't blow me off Tom. Be a gentleman. Be a good boyfriend. Please, please, do not give me a reason to hate you right now.

"I have a quick errand to run. I'll be back in time to meet Abraxas." Wonderful for Abraxas, but why are you leaving your girlfriend?

"I'll come with you." I tighten my grip on the hand he's trying to take away and take a step closer to him.

"Ginerva, the lunch rush is going to start soon and The Three Broomsticks will be packed. If you go save us a table, I can get my errand over with and won't have to use up any of our time later on." Damn… I don't have any response to that. It's perfectly logical and he said it very nicely. Why couldn't he have given me a reason to hate him?

Without a word, I yank my hand out of his and storm off toward the Three Broomsticks. Well, it would have been dramatic if I wasn't going the wrong way.

"The Three Broomsticks is that way, Ginerva." Tom calls. Trying extremely hard to keep my angry face plastered on, I turn back towards him and make my way in the correct direction.

"Be quick." I mutter as I pass him.

I get to The Three Broomsticks, tell the barmaid (Rosmerta's mom, by my guessing) that I need a table for three, sit down and wait. At five minutes until eleven, Abraxas walks in, sees me and sits down.

"Where's Tom?"

"Hello, my dear friend. I've been having a lovely time, thank you so much for asking! It's a bit chilly though—far too chilly for this time of year. How are you?" I reply with false cheer. Abraxas doesn't laugh. I didn't expect him to. Abraxas hasn't laughed in as long as Tom and I have been fighting. He's ended Quidditch practice early twice since that first time. He has neglected to do almost all of his prefect duties and I haven't once seen him sneaking off with some girl. Tristan has no idea what's going on with him, and we've all been very worried.

"Where's Tom?" I sigh. Today is a day for sighing, I suppose.

"He's running an errand. How are you Abe?" I try.

"I'm fine. What sort of errand is he running?" Fine. Abraxas is always fine. That's the only response he ever gives us. The other day, when he was acting especially un-Abraxas-like, I asked him if something was wrong. He said he was "fine". When he shouted at Cassie for breathing to loudly while we were studying, Tristan asked if he wanted to talk about whatever was going on. He said everything was "fine". When Terry and I teased him about not hooking up with anybody recently during Quidditch practice, he exclaimed that he was "fine" and that we should stop bothering him. Then he said practice was over and we were all "fine".

"He said it would be a quick one." I reply quickly. "Abraxas, you really don't seem like you're—"

"I'm fine." He shouts, cutting me off. Seconds later, he stands up quickly and looks directly at something above my head. I turn in my chair and see Tom approaching the table with a paper bag from a shop I don't recognize.

"Hello Abraxas." Tom says, motioning for Abraxas to sit down again. Abraxas stays standing until Tom sits and I silently try to figure out what the hell is going on with one of my best friends.

It takes me a few minutes to realize that Abraxas and Tom are whispering to each other across the table. They're in their own world, having forgotten that I am even here. Abraxas takes something out of his pocket and slides it across the table to Tom. I don't attempt to read it, even though I really, really want to.

"So, Abraxas, what is this meeting about?" I ask.

"What do you think it's about Ginerva?" Tom answers without looking up from whatever he's reading. Oh that's right. The plan.

"Any new developments?" Abraxas gives me a strange look and Tom sighs.

"Ginny…"

"Can I help in any way? I'm pretty good with plans and such." I offer for what seems like the tenth time in the past few weeks.

"You like clothing, right Ginny?" Tom asks, changing the subject for what seems like the twentieth time in the past few weeks. I sigh and stand up.

"I'll get us drinks."

When I come back to the table with the drinks, Tom and Abraxas are leaning over a piece of paper. I set the drinks down and try to see what they are looking at . . . with no results.

"So, what do you guys think about the whole mess with Grindelwald?" I ask, figuring that politics is a pretty good subject. Tom and Abraxas sit up and stare at me.

"Why don't you go find Cassie, Ginny? Come back in an hour." Once again, breathe. Count to ten, breathe some more. Don't get angry. Tom is in his plan mode. He and Abraxas are discussing their after-Hogwarts business venture, or whatever their plan is. They don't want me interfering and so Tom offered a way out. He's not trying to be a bad boyfriend. Take deep breaths….

I grab my bag and stand up. "I'll be back in an hour."

As I'm walking out of The Three Broomsticks, I reach into my bag to grab a sugar-quill. Except instead of candy, my hand grazes leather. Confused, I hold the bag up to my face and see not my Honeydukes bag, but Tom's mystery bag.

Chuckling about my mistake, I walk back to the table and pick up my bag of candy. Tom and Abraxas are huddled over the paper again. I weigh the pros and cons of peeking, and after a few seconds let my curiosity win. I open the bag and take out Tom's mystery purchase.

Tom looks up.

"Hi, sorry, I grabbed your bag by mistake. This is a nice journal. Leather. Good quality." Tom smiles and for a second, I think maybe, just maybe, things will be okay between us.

Then I make the mistake of really looking at the journal.

The journal is black, and leather. It has crisp paper in it. Not parchment, paper. And written on the cover, carved neatly into the leather, are five little letters.

Diary.

My mind goes numb.

The book falls out of my hands.

I think I stop breathing.

I feel my knees give out and my body begin to fall. There's a commotion somewhere near me and two male voices shout my name. Strong arms catch me and somebody slaps my face. I manage to take a long, shaky breath, and look up at Tom's face.

"Ginny, are you alright?" regaining control over my body, I push myself out of Tom's arms and grab my Honeydukes bag.

"No, I'm not. I have to go back to the castle." Not allowing myself to think, I spin around and rush out of the Three Broomsticks.

"Ginny!"

I run up the stairs to Hogwarts and rush inside the open entrance doors.

"Ginny!"

I race across the entrance hall and down the stairs to the dungeons.

"Ginerva!"

I sprint down the corridor and scream the password at the portrait.

"Ginerva stop running!"

I hurl myself into the common room and collapse against the back of a couch, breathing heavily. Tom rushes in behind me and I hear him skid to a stop, also panting.

"Ginny, what is wrong with you? Did you not hear me calling your name?" Tom exclaims. "I chased you all the way from Hogsmeade." Oh big whoop.

I lean face-forward over the back of the couch and take an extremely deep breath.

"What happened back there? Are you alright?" That does it.

"Am I alright? Since when do you care if I'm alright?" I shout, pivoting around to face him. Tom stumbles backwards, his expression of shock and pain quickly morphing into anger and confusion.

"I'm your boyfriend, Ginerva. Of course I care if you're alright." He explains in the most patronizing tone he could probably manage.

"Oh I know you're my boyfriend. I just didn't think you knew." I say, too shaken by the diary to care about watching what I say.

"Don't be ridiculous Ginerva!" Tom cries. I throw up my arms.

"Well, I am just SO sorry for being SO ridiculous! I was under the impression that being somebody's boyfriend meant you actually wanted to spend time with them and get to know them! My god I must have been reading the wrong manual because obviously that is just SO ridiculous! Gee, I'm SO sorry for my stupidity and ridiculousness!"

"That is what being somebody's boyfriend means." He shouts, just as loudly as I had shouted my bit. I lean back act as shocked as I know how to.

"It is? Merlin, I guess I should go get examined then! The way I see it, you don't want me to know anything about your life and god forbid you actually spend time with me outside of school things!" I scream.

Thank Merlin that nobody is in the common room right now. This is definitely the biggest fight Tom and I have had to date. I can't even begin to describe how upset I am at this moment. I know I probably don't have any right to be. Tom doesn't know that the diary he just bought will at some point in the future cause me the most pain I have ever felt in my sixteen years.

"Yes, we haven't been the happy couple lately, but things will get better. You agreed yesterday. We would give this relationship more time and things would get better."

I scream in frustration, and clench my fists.

"You actually have to work at a relationship Tom! God Dammit!" I pick up a vase and throw it against the wall, barely even noticing that it smashes. "I don't know anything that's going on with you! You're always with Abraxas, or alone, talking about your plan or putting it in action. Well while you're doing that I'm still here! I try to relate. I try to talk about things with you! But you brush me off or ignore me or tell me to go "find Cassie". I'm your girlfriend Tom! I'm not just the girl you tutor in arithmancy, or the prefect you swap patrols with! While you're chasing immortality I'm still here! I'm right here Tom, waiting for you to realize that and be my boyfriend! And I hate that! I hate waiting!" The light on the side table blows up. It's been a while since I lost control of my magic but I'm not surprised that I finally did now. Tom is staring at me.

"Your turn." I grind out, recognizing that it's Tom's turn to yell at me now, but he just stands there. The silence is almost painful. The threat of not having closure on this fight hangs over me and I'm suddenly embraced in a cold blanket of panic.

"For Merlin's sake, do something Tom! React! Please?" He does nothing but stands still and stares at me.

There is a clatter and the portrait hole swings open. The entire Quidditch team, plus Cassie, rushes in and stops short upon seeing Tom and I, chests heaving.

"How did you find out?" Tom asks almost inaudibly. I try hard to catch my breath, but stand tall.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I answer honestly. In my panic I can't remember what I just said.

"The plan. My plan. How did you figure out what it was?" Tom clarifies, his voice rising. I can't tell if he's angry or scared. My mind races to figure out what he's asking me. His plan. I don't know what his plan is. That was the point. While he's chasing immortality I'm sitting waiting… oh shit.

"I don't know your plan, Tom, that's why we're fighting in the first place. You won't talk to me." All true. I don't know that immortality is his plan. His reaction is a pretty strong confirmation, but I don't know for sure and it will stay that way as long as I can keep it that way. If immortality is his plan then maybe I don't want to know about it.

Tom stares at me, looking straight into my eyes. I try so hard to show him that I don't know his plan. I bring that knowledge to the forefront of my mind. Please believe me Tom.

"Tom?" He tears his gaze away from mine and takes three steps away from me, towards his dormitory.

"Tom!" I call. "This fight isn't over yet! Don't walk away from me, please!" I glance desperately over at my group of friends, still frozen in shock by the portrait hole.

"We can't be in this relationship Ginerva." Tom says softly. I feel my heart skip a beat. "It isn't working. We weren't ready for this."

No. I don't want us to be over. I know last night I did but I don't anymore.

"Tom, please . . ." I beg. And I don't beg, much.

"I'm sorry." Tom whispers. I open my mouth to say something else, but end up choking on the words. I feel a sharp pang in my chest as Tom walks away, into the boy's dormitories. And for the first time since our fight began, I slump onto the couch.

In a flash, the Quidditch team, with Cassie, is by my side. I am bombarded with questions. Everybody's voice, even though they're probably speaking normally, sounds like shouting.

"Are you okay?"

"Ginny, my gods, what happened?"

"Are you alright?"

I close my eyes. Images dance across the closed lids: Tom; The diary; Tom; Us, together, holding hands; the night when we first got together; and his face, as I shouted at him about chasing immortality.

"Ginny?"

I open my eyes to my friends, leaning over me.

"No. I'm not alright."

A/N - I don't expect forgiveness just yet. But chapter 22 is on it's way. And just to show me that maybe, just maybe, in a few millennium I might be able to stop calling myself a frog, a review would be lovely. Again, so sorry. (I am determined to apologize until it gets annoying, and I'm a Gryffindor, so I'm very good at being determined.)

Sorry for the billionth time,

Your humble frog,

OnceUponaWonderland