She sat there for nearly an hour, her palms sweaty against the rail of the bed she sat on. He probably would never notice her, not now, his head turned away and he deep in thought. If she could just step away, turn from that monstrosity, she could sneak away and ignore that he was still alive. He would go away and she'd be free.
But it still took her a very long time to turn away from the sight of what he had become. Mum always did say she had a morbid sense of curiosity. After all of his telling her how she would die and he would arise again, using her like a little rag doll; to see him so helpless was strangely…anticlimactic. But she pushed any feeling away and turned to the door, hands clenched, ready to leave this horror behind.
"Ginny?"
She had been concentrating so hard that when she turned to face him, she still wore a frown and a knitted brow. She was so taken up with her project of slipping out the door she didn't even remember who it was. "What?" She said, an impatient tone underlying the short staccato of the word.
Tom drew back slightly in surprise, and she could read a look of slight confusion on his strange features. It was enough to negate her fear at the sudden realization of who exactly she was talking to. She suddenly felt a bit better. "Well?" She cocked an eyebrow, confidence seeping into the void that had echoed there for so long. The void he created.
He regained his composure quickly, mild shock replaced with a scowl. "Potter was right. Damn." He muttered, his eyes looking with vague hatred at the dragon-hide straps on his wrists. Ginny snorted quietly, and the gaze returned to bore into her.
But she was no longer his little rag doll, easily cowered by a single stare from red (now yellow) -green eyes. She held his gaze, and walked forward. He watched her with an acidic glare until she got right up next to him, proving both to herself and to him that she wasn't going to lose her control. Seeing her stand there with her hands on her hips, meeting his gaze toe to toe, Tom couldn't help but let slip, "Wonderful, Ginny. I suppose for your next trick you'll actually talk to Harry Potter?"
That was more than enough out of him, at least for Ginny.
The slap was more shocking than it was painful, but it stung nonetheless. She shook her hand lightly to get rid on the tingle that raced across her palm, admiring the angry red mark now across his cheek. He kept his face turned away for a moment, staring at the floor in shock, as if to give her a better view. She let the corners of her mouth turn upwards in the growing feeling of satisfaction.
When he did turn back at her, Ginny noted that his eyes were a mix of shock and disbelief…and a something that almost looked like respect. But anything he would have said was cut off by Madame Pomfrey hurrying back through the doors.
"Harry? Oh, dear." She suddenly noticed the first year looking at her quizzically. "Oh! Ginny, did you see where Harry went? He's the only one who can understand what he," she nodded to Tom, "says…."
"I can understand him. What do you need?"
Madame Pomfrey blinked, quite unsure of what she had just heard. "You…understand him, dear? Do you mind relaying to me what he says?"
Ginny smiled slightly and shook her head. "Not at all."
Tom looked at her suspiciously. Why would she want to help anybody with him, anyhow? He unconsciously scooted a little farther away from her, afraid of revenge he expected from her.
Ginny noticed this and glared at him. "I just don't want to hear that god awful shrieking anymore. I'm not you, anyhow. I don't do the revenge stuff."
Oh. Tom glared back at her, wishing he actually could petrify her.
Madame Pomfrey clasped her hands together. "So you can speak to him! Wonderful! But oh, I can't keep you here for long, you no doubt have class and such things…"
Ginny frowned, wondering if they couldn't cast some language spell…. Stupid Tom and his stupid diary making life miserable for everyone- Wait, the diary! She glance back at Tom, who blinked rapidly, as if his eyes had suddenly gone dry. "You can still write, can't you? And you understand what people have been saying to you, right?" He clearly thought she was daft, but nodded slowly to both questions.
She turned back to Madame Pomfrey, a slight smile showing in satisfaction. "Why don't you have Tom write down any answers you need? He knows English, but he just can't speak it."
Madame smiled for a moment, but then a frown crept back onto her features. "But that would mean we'd need to take off the restraints."
"You could magically lock the restraints on his torso and legs, and keep a wand away from him. You can ask Dumbledore first, but I'm pretty sure even Tom can't do magic without a wand."
The elder woman smiled again. "I think I will. Ginny, would you look after him for a moment while I go find Professor Dumbledore?" And with that, the nurse walked through the double doors to the hallway.
Tom was too busy trying to register Ginny's behavior to even try and hide the odd looks he was giving her. If one was forced to describe, it was a cross between frightened confusion, and a look one would give to someone they suspected of lunacy.
"Oh, knock it off, Riddle. You look like you swallowed a snake." She bit back a giggle. "Well, actually you did, but still."
Tom glared again at the younger girl. "Why aren't you more upset at me, anyhow? I seem to remember quite a few nasty little words from you when I dragged you down to the Chamber." He blinked his inner-eyelids, and regained some of his former self's composure.
"When I first came in here, Tom, yes, I was frightened of you. But you've lost everything, now, haven't you? You didn't win, and you're not even human. And most importantly? I'm not your puppet. I'm the one in control now." She leaned against his bed, and cocked her head to the side, her eyes never wavering from him. "But I'm not like you Tom. I'm your opposite, and will always-I made a promise to myself down there, y'know. And that means I'm not going to play your little mind games or grind you under my sole. You're doing that perfectly fine yourself, anyhow."
"Thank you, Miss Weasley. You are the epitome of knowledge." He looked away from her gaze then, slightly uncomfortable.
She smiled, decided to take the compliment face on, and chose to ignore the sarcastic drip to it. "I try, Tom. I try."