AN: I have the intense need to write a one-shot. So.. Here it is. (By the way… it's just about midnight… forgive me for any stupid errors…)

Ice Hot

An icy gust of wind rushed passed me, as if the world itself was trying to push me over. But I was definitely not going to give up. Not now. Not after all of this time trying. As if by some sort of magic, white snowflakes came whimsically out of the blank white sky. I was not dressed for this weather, in a simple black robe. I held out my palm, upward towards the heavens, closing my eyes and savoring the moment. Catching the tiny flakes in my hand, before they quickly dissolved into water, I snapped out of my trance.

I was on a mission of sorts. A mission to claim what belonged to me. Nowadays, there was talk of a possible new Dark Lord. People claimed that he would have more power than anyone in history. That he would have a prophecy himself—just like Tom Riddle had. Except different. And this time, no one could say who would win. I shook off these silly rumors, because I had more common sense than the rest of the world. The rest of the world did not know that the only two people who could fill that position as the new Dark Lord… Well, they were unable to do this. Tom Riddle was dead. And Draco Malfoy was working undercover for Dumbledore.

I was one girl, one woman, working alone in this cold winter wonderland. Taking a deep breath, my lungs filled with the cold, detached freshness that only this type of weather could bring. Comfort. My body told me this was true comfort, cold iciness. No one could catch me now. I'd gone too far… I had reached the sun.

My footsteps left no marks, as the snow had yet to cover the ground completely. I reached my destination, underneath the large oak tree by the lake. It was my seventh year. The one left behind. The loner… I kept this in mind as I clawed at the hard earth, trying to delve a small hole into the ground. All those years, people assumed that I wanted to be a part of them. I just wanted to be normal.

But that wish of mine was beyond what I could reach. I had made that wish once… Upon a star, in the blackness of the night. Then I watched in morbid fascination as the star fell. It didn't energetically shoot off into the distance, as most stars leave in all their splendor and glory. It fell. It faded away. My star died. It slowly let its light just-- stop. And it disappeared, never to be remembered— at least, the only one who chooses to remember it is me.

In anguish, I kept digging with my hands. Wishing I could use my wand, but knowing that was not what the spell required, I kept at it. My fingers were colder than ever, but I was numb to it all. The dirt and blood on my fingernails seemed like a small price to pay.

I let out a puff of air and watched it mingle in front of me for a few seconds, before it disappeared, consumed by the frigid winds. Focusing more, I took out a vial from my robes, emptying the purple liquid into the small hole. I scooped up a handful the rigid dirt I had carved out just seconds before, and placing it back into the hold, I mixed it with the purple potion. It let out a quick puff of smoke, signaling me to clump the dirt together and mix it more.

Now I took this mud, and I smeared it like war paint onto my face. Two streaks on each cheek, and a dot over my third eye, in the middle of my forehead. The mud was dark, dark brownish-purple and felt oddly warm to my skin. My brown eyes watered at the stinging cold and warmth I felt—the contradiction was too much for my senses.

Next was the part I relished in most. The dagger was beautiful, silver gleaming in the light… I held the handle and carved into my skin—just barely putting pressure, and watching in triumph as blood appeared on the pale, white skin of my arm. I gazed into the distance, watching the horizon.

I had never really gotten over it. It was plain to see at first, but I managed to cover it up with many boyfriends. Not that anyone really paid attention to me. There was always someone more special.

Blinking, I looked back at my arm, shocked to see such a flow of blood spouting from it. The warmth made me tingle. I shut my eyes and fell to the ground.

"Virginia… Ginny… What have you done now?" a deep, distinctly male, voice whispered into my ear. The hot air tickled.

"I am giving you all of me," I choked out, in a sob, not caring that he used Virginia instead of my real name. It was a teasing I sorely missed. "Is it really you?"

A hand reached down and caressed my neck, the skin was soft and gentle, with a tiny scar across the upper palm—a hand so familiar. "It seems to have worked," he said, chuckling.

"Well, the potion wasn't the easiest to make. And mud as hard as December's doorstep was a difficult riddle, if I may say so," I said, surprised at my willingness to speak. "Apply to the face, and allow your blood to spill…" I still had my eyes shut, but I could distinctly feel the presence around me, he was coming closer.

"My smart Ginny," the voice said, and soon I felt myself being picked up into a cozy embrace.

"I would do anything for you…" I whispered, my throat parched and dry.

"For my rebirth," his voice practically smiled for him. "But, Ginny, why? I was gone, and you were… All that the world ever asked for."

"The weight of the world seems so much heavier without you to hope for," I almost laughed as I said it. The irony of the world… I shuddered suddenly, convulsing. "I'm not…"

"Shhh…" he interrupted me, making my thoughts fly out of my head. I was like a baby in his arms. "Don't break my heart… Words are thoughtless."

A tear slipped down my face. It was hotter than his embrace, hotter than the potion on my face, and I traced its course in my mind. He hugged me tighter, and I felt the warmth of love spring forth in my chest. I was definitely the baby, and he was my lullaby. One by one, silly memories and thoughts filled my head, before I put them to rest. My life didn't matter. Not now. I was with him.

"This… it… it means so much," he said as his voice cracked. "Just remember, though, you are and will be my one and only. My weakness. The one love."

"One thing I don't get is why, when I'm being showered by scalding warmth, why do I still shiver in the feeling of ice cold upon me?" I took a deep breath, shivering as I felt his heat move toward me. A warm, gentle, innocent kiss. I opened my eyes, tears falling, and I stared up at him. My handsome prince. Brown hair, and carved features. His long eyelashes fluttering gently below his shut eyes.

I looked up and saw him for all that he was. All of the evil, all of the bad, and all of the love he had for me. And all I could think of was how much…

An icy curtain of death washed over me, as he pulled away from the kiss and looked down at me.

Tom… my mind spoke, through all of the rush and vertigo of thoughts speeding in my head.

"Ginny," he whispered back.

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Beta-notes: Blegh. I hate Ginevra. Sounds horrid coming from Tom's lovely mouth. Virginia is awesome though, makes me think of her as a virgin sacrifice....

Also, I should note that I am officially labelling this story as a Gin -N- Toxin. For more info, go to h t t p : t o x i c . s y c o t i c . o r g .