Author's Note: The Big One, the chapter that took three weeks on writing! Greacely must want to kill me, she harassed me. Well, Greace, it's 12:00am! Be happy! This chapter is R people R! Explicit content here, read at your own risk.

I'm so tired of being here

Supressed by all my childish fears

And if you have to leave

I wish that you would just leave

Cause your presence still lingers here

And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal

This pain is just too real

There's just too much that time can not erase –Evanescence "My immortal"

Chapter 14

~The Link~

"So, now that it is agreed, you will ask her, and I will go with you. It's simple, and it's easy enough," said Dimaia, who was sitting on top of Tom's desk; he was sitting down on a chair before her. The girl was sitting with her school skirt tucked between her legs with her hands; one long, slender leg dangling from the desk.

Tom nodded, sitting further back into his chair. Dimaia's stomach was at his eye level. They had argued for the past hour until they had finally reached an agreement about their plans. Dimaia sighed and stayed silent for a long time. In the dim light, her features looked as if she belonged in the 1600's when magical folk were persecuted; she had the unmistakable characteristics of the gypsies that were caught so many times.

Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, rebel curls sticking down from it defiantly. Slowly, he reached out a hand a tucked one of the strands behind her ear; she looked at him and scowled. He raised his gaze to her and saw that her eyes were a mauve shade again, and he wondered if, perhaps, this was a distinctive characteristic that meant something that was happening to her. But, he wouldn't worry about that. He had another things—another person, rather—to worry about right now, didn't he? Yes, he did.

"The link shall be done today," he said to Dimaia, the girl, slowly, brought her gaze to his; her eyes seemed their usual dark brown again.

"I know," she said and sighed. "As well as I know what that will bring." She sighed. Tom looked at her in puzzlement. What did she mean by that, he wasn't sure. She seemed to catch his doubt. "Don't you?"

"No," he said and shook his head. "I do not know," he said and blinked. "Tell me."

She winced slightly and then shrugged "It erases our link," she said. "We won't owe anything to each other anymore and—" she paused, hesitating. "well, I'm not… I mean…"

"You're afraid that since I will no longer be endangered by your threat, then that I will take full advantage of that," Tom said. Dimaia nodded slowly, then more eagerly, and then she almost seemed defiant.

"Yes, because you are not very trustful, Tom…"

"Owens, I am loyal to my word. And my word is that I wouldn't hurt you physically, and I won't. As much as I may desire to do so, I won't. You have helped me. Without you, I wouldn't have found Ginny. And for that, I'm grateful." He turned around and walked about the room. "But it needs to be done today; otherwise, she will not do it."

"I understand," said Dimaia standing up from the desk and crossing her arms. She then examined her right hand, looking at the symbol carved into it. "Do you think this will go away?"

"No," Tom replied. "Not at all." He then examined his own right hand. "How are you so sure that it erases our link?"

"I'm not." She turned her dark gaze towards his. Her eyes reminded him of Ginny's; she too had dark eyes, though hers, he noted, were completely different from Dimaia's. As Ginny's eyes had a look of innocence, or purity; Dimaia's had a look of seduction, and of wiser knowledge. Two completely different strangers and they were yet so alike as well.

As if he had called her with his thoughts, Ginny appeared in the frame of the door; she was wearing one of the gowns he often left in her bathroom; a long, dark green one, made out of silk, which hung loosely from her figure, as her hair framed her face in showers of ember flames.

Dimaia and Ginny stared at each other for a long time—or maybe it was just a short time and Tom saw it longer—and they nodded at each other. They seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement of which Tom knew nothing, or perhaps they too shared an unknown link. But they walked past each other without uttering a single word.

Ginny looked at Tom, and then neared him. He was sitting, looking strangely attractive, his hair was sticking out everywhere, his blue eyes were intensely looking at her, in what would be—in another situation—an appraising sort of look. His arms were crossed in front of him, he then looked at her eyes, and she recognized in his a desire she thought he wouldn't be able to feel for another human being—if he could be called human.

But instead of saying something to her, he glared at her and left past her. Ginny stayed inside the office for a long time, and then she went after him, almost running as to catch up with him. She saw him round on the corner that led to the bedroom, and she knew it was there he was going. She entered the bedroom and looked at him, panting and catching her breath.

"You're always running away, Tom Riddle," she said and clutched a stitch on her chest; Tom scowled from his sitting position on the bed.

"What do you want?" he asked in a bored, almost cold, tone.

"We need to talk," she replied. If he didn't know that would be the obvious answer, then she'd overestimated him. He remained silent for a moment, as if hesitating to answer. He then stood up and eyed her downward; his eyes were coldly boring into her. Did he hate her? It seemed like he did. Then again, she might have been mistaking that look with another thing. In all cases, he had said he loved her. Period. And she wanted to sort this out.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said boringly and paced around her, circling her. She took a deep breath. "What can there possibly be more to talk about?"

"You told me you loved me," she said without even hesitating to answer. He wasn't going to run away again.

"And you believed me?" he sneered and paused behind her, bringing his mouth close to her ear; his warm breath tickling her. "Tell me, did you also believe that I wouldn't let Aurora loose on you?"

And in that instant, the basilisk entered the room, and it started circling them, hissing and slithering. Ginny froze, not looking at the basilisk once, but feeling its presence. She was not ready to die; she had too much to do before she could reach that point. And yet, she wished everything would be over already.

"Scared, are you?" he asked chuckling. She gulped, tears of anger forming in her eyes. Why had she been so stupid? Why had she believed him? She had fallen, once again, in his web of lies, of torture, of seduction. You would think that after an experience, you would learn to not commit the same mistake again. But she had let herself go again, blinded by the platonic feeling that she owed him something. And she didn't want to owe him anymore. "You have a choice," he continued, she could feel the basilisk around her ankles.

"I don't," she replied, looking straight at the wall, tears falling from her eyes, her fists clenched at her sides.

"You, at least, owe me that." He smirked. She turned around and raised her gaze to him, her eyes flashing.

"I don't owe you anything," she said. "Go on, loose that basilisk on me. Get rid of the only person who will ever understand you." She turned around so her back faced him again.

He chuckled again and splayed his hand open over her stomach, pushing her against him. She froze. She felt as the basilisk exited the room.

"Let me be your guide," he started, taking her left hand and caressing it with his own: cupping it, rubbing it, and brushing it with his fingers. His tone was tranquil, but enchanting. She blinked as her gaze became lost in the wall in front of her. But she couldn't focus on anything, because nothing was important, the only things that were, though, were his words, and must listen indeed.

"Let me show you the path you must take." The hand that was on her stomach started to rub in little circles slowly and slightly. "Follow my voice, I shall keep you safe." He removed the hair from her neck, pushing it to one side of her shoulders. He then kissed her ear tenderly.

"Trust in my influence," he whispered. He started brushing his fingers against the fabric of her silk gown, which was so thin that she could feel his hand as if she had nothing on. She must stop him. But her reason, for some factor, was not working at all now. No, she wouldn't stop him, why should she? She shuddered slightly and felt how he pulled down one of the strings of her gown, leaving one of her shoulders bare. He then caressed it and kissed it.

"Act upon what I want you to do." She felt the tiny, but passionate kisses that he was giving her and she felt herself rolling her head backwards so he could have freer access to her neck. And no matter how many times her mind warned her to stop, she couldn't.

It was like a spell.

She felt herself going in a trance, not knowing anything else but the feeling of him and nothing more.

"Let me posses you," he proceeded and she felt his hand caressing her thigh, forbiddingly close to the most intimate place of her being. "Control you." He turned her around and encircled her waist and kissed her neck possessively. She didn't react at all; her hands were limp at her sides, she still had her gazed fixed on something lost to reality.

And then came the last words, said in a whisper that turned her whole existence into pure fire, made her desire him with such strong force that it was almost unbearable, and it was. "Give yourself to me."

This was it.

She was standing on the edge of a very dangerous cliff. If she proceeded there would be no return, and possibly, no regrets.

He had released her; she sat on the bed with her hands on her lap, looking down at them. She was pondering, thinking with just the little reason she had left after the whole encounter right now. He saw as she bit her lip, and then looked up at him, resolution in her eyes. Her dark eyes were darker than usual in desire, and he noted that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

And so he had achieved his goal.

Without even a second thought, Ginny grabbed Tom's collar and pressed her lips against his own. There was nothing tender about this kiss; it was hot, passionate, and hurried. They kissed as if they had never kissed before in their lives. With such desire and passion, that it was almost bruising. Tongues explored each other's mouth, as if wanting to memorize every nook and cranny, every corner, everything.

Hands threw fabric away; shirt, trousers, gown. Only leaving them in their undergarments. It was hurried, and yet, it was slow. He was treating her with the utmost delicacy, as if she were a piece of glass that could break at any second. And she could.

Their hands explored one another, touching here, caressing there, making them both send out little cries of liking into each other's ears. Murmurs spoke their names into the air. Their sweat mingled with one another.

His mouth went through every corner of her, kissing her, licking her, exhaling warm breath over her, making her shudder and cry for more. Her nails dug into his back, got tangled in his sweaty hair. Sounds of panting and moaning, of giggles and laughter, made the way through the otherwise silent Chamber.

Her hands caressed his chest, his back, his neck, his face. Her mouth suckled on the flesh on his neck. Leaving a sweet and sour feeling around him. Her touch was exhilarating, seducing, arousing. But he was already aroused, just by looking at her; she drowned him in a web of suffocation of which he could not escape, intoxicating him with her incoherent moans, with her whimpers, with her squirms.

They removed the remaining of their clothes, and they didn't even mind the breeze. The air did not seem cold anymore; everything was warm, suffocating in their own heat of passion. He stood over her, propping himself in hands beside her, and for the first time, they looked at each other's eyes. She was scared, she was about to step out into fate… but she had already done so by kissing him.

He then licked his lips and proceeded to kiss parts of her he shouldn't be kissing; teasing her by licking things he shouldn't lick. She grasped at his head, as she felt the most wonderful feeling in the world, her breathing becoming short and rasp. And without warning, he stopped. Making her whimper in contradiction. But he smirked, kissing her neck and her ears as he positioned himself for the next action.

And as he entered her, she felt pain, pain like no other she had felt on her life, like a thousand daggers were drilling into her. Tears mingled with her sweat, falling in salty trails of proof. She whimpered in pain, letting out a soft sob. He kissed her face, her tears. He seemed to know it was causing her pain. Little by little, the pain seemed to go away, letting in the place for pleasure, and for forbiddingness.

She moved with him, two bodies becoming one in a single action. They kissed, caressed, called out each other's names in the silence. Their minds became blurry; their thoughts were not thoughts anymore, the only thing they could see, and think, was each other. And as he carried her to the edge of her deepest, darkest desires, she began to feel dizzy, the pleasure, the moment, the feelings; everything was too much for her.

Their breaths became panting, coming in short, ragged incomes of air, just out of pure necessity. They increased the rhythm, at the same time their blood pumping increasing, their hearts accelerating into a thousand miles of pleasure. They were reaching their edge, the point where everything made sense for a few seconds.

And as they reached it, they cried out each other's name in a single, loud moan. And they were off to the world of pure ecstasy, pleasure, and senseless. It only lasted a few precious seconds, and then they opened their eyes to meet each other's gaze. He kissed her one more time, still atop of her. And even though she kissed him, her eyes became unfocused.

She spoke in a low, harsh whisper, making Tom's heart race more than it was already. For the words that came out of her mouth were the words he wanted to hear all along. "And dark will rise, and light will fall. He who saved us before shall try to save us again, but he will not be alone. Two of the Four will join him. It will be Three against One. One who will come forth from a past which was believed to exist no more. It will be the true moment to see who is loyal to who… or whom."

And she fainted.

A/N: There we go… I can't believe it took me so long. But there it is! I hope Greacely won't HARRASS me anymore! I know you expected much, much more if it took so long to write. But this is the first time I've wrote sex, and it is not graphic, I told you that it wouldn't be graphical on ff.net, I will do the graphic one and post it afterwards on my site. Anyway, please REVIEW!