Looksies! I'm writing a het fic! Ooh. Awh, I can't give the warning to go away if you don't like slash…it's Ginny/Tom Riddle. If you don't like this pairing, please shoo. Reviews are yummy-I mean nice. Flames give me indigestion, and are therefore a no-no. It features an older Ginny, a ghosty Tom, and a psychiatrist. I'm sitting at my computer with the Chamber of Secrets, so I hope I don't make too many mistakes…I'm taking a slight poetic license on Ginny's thoughts, because the book doesn't really say how she got 'hypnotized' by Tom.

All characters from Harry Potter belong to J.K Rowling, and all of the quotes are from the Chamber of Secrets, and all by Tom Riddle. Fun. There's a bit of movie cannon for the diary, just so you know.

As another note, Tom usually brought Ginny into the diary to control her, and then he sent her back out again. A little something I dreamed up.

Ink Scars

("It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me…"

-Tom Riddle, p309 (American edition), chapter 17, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)

"So, Miss Weasley…" The man looked down at a file. "You were the victim of the Chamber of Secrets incident, correct?" His voice droned, and the young lady with fiery red hair nodded, before opening her mouth.

"Yes. That would be correct. Did Dumbledore send for you?" Her voice never wavered.

"True. Now, do you feel like telling your story?" His voice lost it's boring tone, and he leaned forward in his chair.

The girl never answered, but reclined on the couch and started talking;

"It's been five years, hasn't it? Yes, yes, it has. I can feel him sometimes, in the air around me, when it get cold. Deadly cold, and I have to stop my teeth from chattering…when I was in my first year, I was so naïve…I found the Diary in my cauldron from Flourish and Blotts, and thought that my mum had bought it for me as a surprise…"

"Here, girl - take your book - it's the best your father can give you-" Lucius Malfoy had told me, shoving my Transfiguration book at me. His eyes - they were sparkling with hate and malice.

"I've often wondered what caused such a chaotic relationship between my father and him. I've never found out. Where was I?

Yes, my father had gotten into a fight with Lucius, and Hagrid had sorted them out. I didn't notice the book until my second day at Hogwarts. It was a diary, it seemed innocent enough. Though, it seemed to of been previously owned, for in a gold type at the bottom of the book, it read 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' I thought that Mum had bought it second hand, that used to happen a lot, or that someone had put it in my cauldron by mistake.

I started writing in it, my own little diary, where I could write my own thoughts. I even magically locked it from a spell Hermione taught me.

"I'd been writing in for…the first week, I think, that was innocent enough. Then, on the next Monday, someone wrote back. That petrified me for the rest of the day, I hadn't dared to open the diary, it had rested on my bed.

"When I found the courage to open it, it was blank, all of my other writings had disappeared. There was only one message;

'Hello, Ginny. My name's Tom Riddle. Don't be afraid, I can't hurt you, I'm trapped in this book. Please, you have to trust me.'

"And I did, foolishly. I remember my mother once telling me not to trust anything that can think on it's own if you can't see where it keeps its brain. But, I had so few friends then. I was just another Weasley, and had too many expectations of me. So I trusted Tom. I told him everything…"

("That's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.")

"I told him how I wished a boy in my brother, Ron's year, would like me. Harry Potter. He was so…extraordinary, superior where I was just another ordinary girl. I wasn't amazingly pretty, or very clever. I was just another Weasley with red hair and freckles. How I sometimes wished that we were rich, like the Malfoys, how I had second-hand books and robes, how all of my brothers used to tease me about my crush on Harry…"

("How she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her…")

"Tom made me feel appreciated, like I was someone special. My crush on Harry somehow faded away during the time I was writing to Tom. He told me he had once been sixteen, that he had gone to Hogwarts once, before Albus Dumbledore was the Headmaster. He had been alive 50 years ago, he said.

"I asked him why he was telling me this. He said;

"Because you told me your secrets."

"The first attack began at Halloween…I-I had been writing in my diary just before the Feast was to begin. There…there had been an ink blot, and…then the whole page turned black. I could hear a voice in my head, a voice that I could only assume was Tom's. He told me…that…he would protect me, if I followed him.

"I was so desperate for someone to talk to, and I asked if I could see him. He said;

"Poor Ginny…maybe next time you will see me. But know that I can see you. I'll be watching you, Ginny, dear. Know that no one can hurt you when I'm watching."

"I don't remember anything after that. I woke back in the girl's dormitory, and figured I had been dreaming. Yet, at breakfast, Ron told me that Mrs. Norris had been attacked. My conscious hissed that it had been me, but I drove it away with rational thought. I'd been asleep the whole time. I was perfectly clean.

"Except that I'd woken up with bloody hands…Later, I had started to wake up with feathers on my robe, along with blood. Tom was playing games with my mind…but I didn't know. He even tried replacing my escapades with wonderful dreams. There was always a small suspicion in the back of my mind, but I still trusted Tom like a brother - and I thought of him as one. Or maybe more.

"Colin Creevy had been next, he only lived by seeing it through Nearly Headless Nick. This time, I saw Tom, just like he'd promised…

("If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed.")

"He was very handsome, jet black hair and deep brown eyes, with hints of dark red. His skin was so pale, and he had looked at me with tired eyes. He even looked sixteen. He couldn't of been lying to me. Yet by his robes, I could tell he had once been a Slytherin. But…somehow, that didn't apply. I didn't care.

"I think I started to fall in love with Tom then, which only fuelled my unfailing trust in him. When one of the girls in my dorm teased me, she would wake up with a spot, or a really bad hair day. Little things, that could have been chance. But I always felt as if Tom was doing it for me.

"One time, he had kissed my forehead, his lips were ice cold against my warm skin, and I then knew this wasn't right. But I wanted, needed Tom so bad…

"Who was next? Oh, yes. Hermione. This had been the last straw for me, I tried to tell Harry or Ron before, but Percy had thought it was about him and Penelope Clearwater. Hah.

"But something still drove my passion for Tom Riddle. I couldn't go a day without writing to him. He was my best friend then. I used to say I had a boyfriend. He used deceive me, to cover my eyes and lips in kisses and tell me he'd never do it again if I told…he was the cure to his own poison.

"So he seduced me into doing his bidding. I loved him, with a fiery passion. I sometimes, at night, think he loved me back. Or maybe I was trying to fool myself, telling myself I was doing no wrong, even when I became aware of it. Hear, See and Speak no Evil.

("It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary," said Riddle. "But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it.")

"When I finally couldn't take it any longer, and pushed Tom away, he had only smiled at me, and told me one thing, whispering in my ear as he had done before;

"You need me just as much as I need you…"

I remember trying to scream away my emotions, to somehow mentally block him. So I tried to get rid of Tom, of everything he had done to me. I put, or rather, threw it in a place that I thought no one would ever look for…

("You found it, and I couldn't of been more delighted. Of all the people who could of picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet…")

"I threw it Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, throwing it down the toilet that she usually inhabited. Tom, he must of unlocked the book himself, because I found Harry flipping through the pages of his diary.

"I panicked, paranoia followed me around while I planned to get the diary back. What if Harry found out my secret, Tom furious with betrayal? I had told him everything I knew, thought and felt about Harry. What if Riddle tried to get to him instead? That gave me another reason to try and get the diary back. So one night, I snuck into the boy's dorm and took it back. When I saw him, I could feel my legs go weak, but I only asked, or rather, demanded of him one thing; what he told Harry?

"Tom was furious, I could see it in his eyes, but he only smiled and shrugged, before kissing me fully on the lips…

"And I was his slave again."

("Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me…")

"He made me write my own fate down on the wall in my own blood, and he brought me down to the Chamber.

"He was visible now, outside the pages of his diary. He was transparent, but still very handsome. His usually dead eyes were now alive, glittering with hunger and vengeance. The sight of him reminded me of how much I needed him, but also of how he had deceived me, how he had lied to me. Yet, the first thought was much more powerful, even though I went down into the Chamber kicking and screaming, and continued to do so until I could feel the life draining out of me, as he became more solid, more vibrant.

He had strolled over to me, and picked me up, lifting my head so I could see him. He just stared at me, and kissed me lightly on my forehead, my face, my neck. He finished with one last fiery kiss on the lips, and left me with a taste of something bitter and sweet at the same time, like lemonade without enough sugar. I had tried to follow him when he disappeared, but I fainted, and could only dream of him.

("Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present and future, Harry Potter.")

I didn't know until afterwards that my Tom had been Voldemort. How could such a handsome young man turn into such a slaughter of the innocents, to something so deformed? I had heard from Harry about his battle in his first year, how he had been nothing but a parasite, a hideous creature.

("Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then-

He had gone.)

I only remember waking to see Harry after that. I had confessed everything, sobbing. He had told me that things would be alright now."

Ginny sat up, and rubbed her temples, wincing at the whole memory. The man was still looking at her, enthralled by her tale. She continued, now in the present, how he still affected her;

"Yet, they weren't. He still haunts my dreams - and my nightmares. I see him sometimes, in a large crowd, or a busy place - he's smiling at me, his eyes sparkling, and he's beckoning to me, to come and join him. I sometimes run to him, but then he's never there, only, strangely, a black feather. I have a large collection of them at home. Maybe I'm insane, I'm hallucinating. But he seems so real."

The psychiatrist nodded, and started to scribble a few notes on his clipboard. She continued, not even having to be asked.

"Harry and Ron can't protect me anymore. Hermione is the only one I ever really talk to about Tom. I don't know if I can ever love again." She puts her face in her hands, and stays like that, letting the man study her. She looks up again, and rubs her eyes.

"The next year, on Halloween, I found these," She starts to roll up her long sleeves of the black shirt, "He's left his mark on me, so I can never forget him."

On her arms are patterns, patterns that look like they've been drawn on by quill and ink. They spiral, and merge, and then separate again, ivy clutching at her arms. At the top of either shoulder, is a snake that emerges from the ivy, and starts to climb up her neck, but stops abruptly.

"It will never come off, this I know." She says, her eyes sullen. "I can only live with the fact that I've been scarred for life. I think I still love him, sir."

With those final words, Ginny Weasley left the roomm, and the entire building, leaving the psychiatrist to ponder her words, her story.

As Ginny arrived at the station, the tube train was crowded. When she managed to get a seat, she casually turned her head to the man next to her.

Jet black hair and dark, hungry eyes. Parchment skin and much more solid than ever. She reached out to touch his hand, and felt the familiar freezing skin. The man took her hand in his, and kissed it, his eyes never leaving hers, and hers never leaving his. When she opened her mouth to reply, his eyes only showed her one thing.

"Hello, Tom."