Ginny couldn't sleep that night. She stayed up past midnight knitting Addie's sweater, and when she was finished with that, she laid down and tried to sleep. Immediately, a dozrn images that she didn't want to be faced with appeared behind her eyelids.

Mason, shaking his head in disproval, distrust sprawled out across his face. Harry, leaning forward to kiss her for the first time, after that Quidditch match, and then his face turning into Riddle's right before his lips touched hers. The words, "What are you doing to me?" breathed against her skin. His eyes turning red, and Riddle melting into a laughing Lord Voldemort, still only inches from her face, whispering, "You can trust me, Ginevra. You're my best friend. Everything will be fine. Just keep writing. Keep writing."

Ginny tore her eyes open and sat up.

If she saw things like that when she was awake, what kind of nightmares would haunt her sleep?

Without thinking about it, the Head Girl tossed an old cloak on over her silk pajamas and pulled on a pair of furry boots, then grabbed her wand and slipped out of her room.

Riddle wasn't in the common room anymore, which she was thankful for. Then again, it shouldn't have been surprising. It was late, even for Tom Riddle.

Moving as quietly as possible, Ginny slipped down her staircase, then out of the portrait. She was restless, and even though she wasn't really hungry, her feet still led her down a staircase, through several long corridors, past the Hufflepuff common room, and straight to the kitchen.

Her heart still fluttering a little too quickly, Ginny reached up and tickled the pear, then carelessly jumped through the opening, expecting the room to be empty.

Ginny stopped mid-stride when she saw Mason and Mulciber huddled together over a table.

Both of the boys froze when they saw her- Mason's face turning to stone, and Mulciber's eyes widening in surprise. They have obviously been talking about something that no one was supposed to overhear, and Ginny imagined that she was pretty low on their 'people to trust' list.

"I was just looking for something to eat," explained Ginny.

She vaguely wondered when Mulciber and Mason had gotten so friendly, why it looked like Mason was closer to him than her, then guiltily realized that she had been paying so much attention to Riddle lately that she'd more or less forgotten about everyone else.

No wonder Riddle was starting to fancy her- he probably figured that Ginny worshiped him, with how clingy she was becoming.

There was a long silence where neither Mason or Mulciber replied, and then finally Mason waved his warm, silently saying, Then eat.

Ginny glared at him. He could speak perfectly well- he actually talked quite normally to people that he liked- and his silence was just another sign that he didn't fully trust her anymore.

"Please say something," Ginny said unwillingly. Last time they'd stopped speaking to each other, Ginny had gone out of her way to fix things. It was Mason's turn to plead and beg this time, but he showed no signs of even wanting things between them to be okay again.

Then again, he was Grindelwald's bloody nephew. Ginny had a feeling that, even though the Hat had seen something in Mason's character that convinced it to put him in Hufflepuff, Mason wasn't going to be friendly or forgiving, not when he was probably under the impression that Ginny had betrayed him.

Trust was everything. Mason was so much like Riddle in that way that it was ridiculous.

"I don't know what you want me to say," Mason said. He must have told Mulciber a good deal of what was going on, because he didn't hesitate before continuing, "You've made your choice, and I'm not going to interfere."

Ginny narrowed her eyes.

"You're worse than Abraxas," she said. "He's not making me choose him over Riddle, but with you, it's one or the other, and that's just stupid. I don't know anything about you that Riddle doesn't, and if you're worried that I'll tell him about Mulciber's cold feet, just threaten me. Tell Riddle what I'm here for, and he'll off me before I can even open my mouth."

Mason said nothing for a few moments, but his eyes locked with Ginny's, brimming with too many emotions to read. Mulciber was silent, but his eyes were burning into Ginny's face, curious, but not knowing what to say. He wasn't as angry at Ginny as Mason was- he hadn't been her friend, just an acquaintance, someone who respected her, but little else.

"I'm not worried about you hurting us. You wouldn't do that," Mason finally said.

"Then why are you acting like this?" asked Ginny.

Mason shot a wary look in Mulciber's direction and vaguely said, "You could do so much, could help so many people, but you're completley ignoring this opportunity. If I had your power…"

"You'd what?" interrupted Ginny sharply. "You'd convince Riddle that friendship is good, and then turn on him? Mason, the reason I don't think I can do what I'm supposed to… it's not because I trust Riddle completely or because I think he's a decent person. It's because I'm a bloody Hufflepuff, and even though I hate myself for it, I can't let him be right. Trust, friendship, everything like that… it's all supposed to be good. Am I any better than Riddle if I get him to believe in all those things, and then stab him in the back?"

"You wouldn't be like him," Mason told Ginny. The sharpness was leaving his voice, and Ginny got the impression that he was softening- that he was starting to understand. "What you're fighting for, what you'd hurt him for… it's the right reason."

"So I'd kill him and it'd be okay, but Riddle does the same thing to someone else and pays for it with his life?" Ginny asked, quoting Riddle from a conversation that they'd had a long time ago. "How do you know that when Riddle killed Myrtle, or… anyone else he may have murdered… how do you know that he didn't think it was for the right reasons?"

That quieted Mason for a moment. Mulciber looked confused, and his eyes were shining with questions, his lips opened as if he wanted to speak, but he remained completely silent.

Suddenly, Ginny realized that she didn't trust Mulciber enough to have him listening in on their conversation, that he spent too much time with Riddle for her to be comfortable with. Mason, as if reading Ginny's thoughts, raised his wand and pointed it at the other boy's head.

"Obliviate."

Ginny cringed but didn't complain as Mulciber's eyes went blank for a moment before regaining their focus.

"What in the world-" he started gruffly.

"We're leaving," Mason said, cutting off his friend.

"So you still hate me?" questioned Ginny. "You still think that it's okay for me to act like Riddle at his worst, at the very same time that he's shining at his best?"

Mason shook his head, and his eyes were sad when he said, "I don't hate you, Ginny, and I'm trying to understand, but sometimes things aren't easy, or even right, but they still have to be done."

The words were in Ginny's head, dancing on her tongue, before she could think them away, and by then it was too late. She knew what she was doing before she said them, knew how badly they would burn, but Mason was being infuriating and callous.

With a smirk exactly like Riddle's, Ginny bitingly asked, "For the Greater Good, right?"

Mason froze like he'd been punched, and his hands balled into tight fights. Mulciber was like a statue beside him, and the tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

He's going to curse me, thought Ginny. Mason McCreery, who I had once thought was the sweetest boy in the school, is going to curse me.

He didn't.

To Ginny's surprise, Mason let out a shaking breath, and softly said, "Yeah, Peverell. That's pretty much exactly right."

Then he opened the portrait hole and left, Mulciber trailing behind him.

Guilt hit Ginny hard, but she pushed it back. Mason's words may have been true, but Ginny was fast learning that right and wrong weren't black and white, and she had a gut feeling that, in this particular case, she was the one who was doing the right thing.

For a short time, Ginny stood where she was, waiting for the heat from her confrontation with Mason to fade, and then she released a low breath and took the seat that Mason had just vacated.

A tentative house elf appeared in front of her.

"Can I get anything Mizzus Pevyril?"

"Er, yeah," said Ginny. "Can I have a mint tea?" She ducked her head and blushed at the request, even though it was stupid to think that a house elf would see any significance in it.

The little elf nodded emphatically, and, moments later, returned with the tea.

Ginny inhaled deeply, remembering perfectly how clear the smell had been in her Amortentia sevearl days before, and even though she still thought it looked rather like cat urine, even just inhaling the wonderfully distinctive smell helped her to calm down.

Deep in the back of her mind, Ginny remembered the last time she had drank tea like this, sitting across from Riddle in the dimly lit room. She had said something about his life being meaningless, had told him that he could change that if he would learn what it was like to care about someone.

Riddle had told Ginny that it was impossible, that his life would always be worth nothing. She distinctly remembered the way that he had looked, then- broken and weak and human.

Ginny wondered if Riddle still found his life meaningless. Did whatever strange, fractured relationship they shared make any difference? If it did, what would happen if Ginny kept pretending to ignore Riddle's lingering looks and increasingly obvious jealousy? Would he realize that she was skirting around his 'feelings' and give up on her completely? Would he keep going on like he was now?

Should Ginny say something?

Yeah, thought Ginny cynically. I'll just walk up to Voldemort and ask if he fancies me. That'll turn out well.

With a sigh, Ginny shook those thoughts away. She valued Riddle's friendship too much to ruin it with awkward questions.

Ginny polished off her tea and resolved to pretend that everything was okay. Then she headed back to the Head's common room.

…

Riddle was just returning from breakfast when Ginny tiredly descended her staircase late the next morning, and he immediately took notice of the bruise-like circles under her eyes.

"I thought I heard you leaving last night," he said. Ginny could tell that he was trying not to sound suspicious. "I don't remember you having patrols."

"I didn't," Ginny yawned. His eyes fell to her bare feet, and Ginny fidgeted uncomfortably. What now? Did Voldemort have a bloody foot-fetish that Dumbledore hadn't mentioned, or was he looking at something else? Quickly, she continued, "I couldn't sleep, so I went down to the kitchens from some tea, if you must know."

Riddle raised his gaze back to her face. His eyes were narrowed into slits.

"Did you even once think about the basilisk during your little trip?" he asked sharply.

"Well, um... no. It didn't kill me, though," Ginny said weakly. She'd totally forgotten about the giant snake, and she actually kind of felt stupid for it.

Wasn't she the one who'd actually dealt with the basilisk before? She should have been terrified that it was going to eat her or something, but there was a stupid invincible feeling in Ginny's gut, a stupid certainty that it wouldn't hurt her.

Maybe Ginny was delusional. She had been the one controlling the basilisk last time. Her brain was probably under the impression that she still had power over the thing.

"Peverell, you're going to get yourself killed," Riddle said coldly, but Ginny could detect worry in his voice.

For the first time, she realized that Harry was the only one of her previous boyfriends who would have cared so much.

Riddle likes me, Ginny thought. He'd be a decent boyfriend. What's so bad about liking him back?

About a million protests popped into Ginny's head, and she smiled slightly. Right. He was kind of an evil murderer, not to mention that he supposedly couldn't love anybody.

Any relationship with Riddle would crash and burn before it even got started.

"You know," said Ginny, and as she spoke, she realized that her words were true, "I don't think so. You wouldn't let me die."

Riddle narrowed his eyes.

"I can't control if it kills you or not," Riddle said in a voice laced with unconcealed frustration. "I'm not all-powerful." Ginny started to gape at his words, but the Head Boy added, "Don't look at me like that, Peverell. I'm not admitting that I couldn't be, just that I don't want to be. If I wasn't unwilling to do certain... things, I could easily find the power to stop the basilisk, to do anything... but you're holding me back. Right now, it's you that's making me weak."

His voice wasn't accusing. It was accepting. Ginny still felt like she'd done something wrong.

I'm screwing up Lord Voldemort.

"I… I'm sorry?" she tried.

"Don't be," Riddle said. His eyes locked intently with hers, and Ginny wanted to melt. He fancied her, she knew it, and she was still speaking with him like everything was normal, was still making eye-contact with him, wasn't running or screaming. It was wrong.

"Don't be," repeated Ginny. "Don't be sorry? Why not?"

With cold eyes, Riddle steelily said, "There are other things that are more important."

"Er…" Ginny said intelligently. It was all that she could think of, she was so shocked.

He had to have been talking about some Death Eater stuff, right?

The look in his eyes said he hadn't been.

"Okay then," she finally said. "I'll be more careful."

"It's a basilisk. You shouldn't need me to remind you."

"Yeah," Ginny said. "But it doesn't scare me."

She had no idea how that response was honest. Was she crazy? Even Riddle was eyeing her like he wasn't sure how mentally sound she was.

"Brave and stupid. You might as well be a Gryffindor."

Then he walked off to his room, leaving Ginny staring after him, his words echoing in her head.

"There are other things that are more important."

For once, the Hufflepuff wasn't thick enough not to realize why she suddenly felt very, very warm.

A/N-

Okay, I didn't think it was possible, but you have all officially shocked me. I asked to get up to 500 reviews, and I get 526. That's FORTY-ONE total! I seriously almost fainted when I saw that, and I have to thank you all about a million times over. Hopefully this early chapter helps show my gratitude a little bit.

Again, not too much action, but Slughorn's party is next chapter- which I'm still posting Wednesday- so hopefully that'll make up for it. I really hope you guys keep up your great awesomeness, and I'm looking forward to hearing what you all have to think.

~bballgirl32~