Disclaimer: Same as last chapter. I don't own any of the Jabberwocky references, either.

Here's part two! One part left before the story's finished Exciting, isn't it? More of the challenge criteria were slipped into this chapter too.

As ever, thanks to my wonderful betas (who were listed in the first chapter) and go read their work! (After you read this, of course :P)

Thanks for reviewing: s.s.harry, Lady Riddle, yaukira, paradox01. You're all fabulous.

Paradox: Harry can't be Head Boy. He wasn't made a prefect, so unless the Hogwarts system works differently to normal British system, he can't be Head Boy :P But it does make more sense for Ron to be Quidditch Captain. But in OotP, he sucked. So ... well. Yeah.

Anything that Ginny says that isn't canonically correct is simply because she's exaggerating because she admires Harry so. And because it's easier to say 'once a year' than 'once every year except for his third, my second.'

Side pairings? Don't think so. Cookies for you for guessing right

Ginny tapped her fingers idly along the desk. The rain that had burst from the heavens on the weekend had stopped, and the ceiling of the Great Hall was a perfect blue. Beside her, Luna was prodding the Moke.

'It seems to be suffering from the snicker-snack,' she said idly, as the Moke closed its eyes. 'It hasn't moved.'

'Luna, it's a lizard. They tend to be slow anyway, and this one probably doesn't like being trapped. Why don't you take it to Hagrid if you're concerned?' asked Ginny, not trying to hide her irritation. Luna's earrings, two Dungbombs, swung furiously as Luna shook her head.

'Why are you hiding under the table?' she asked curiously, as Ginny peered fearfully at Luna's ears. 'The Moke won't hurt you.'

'Why do you have Dungbombs on your ears?' asked Ginny, her throat dry. She reached for some pumpkin juice as Luna smiled secretively.

'The way of Zonko's is a mystery to all.'

'I'm sure it is.' Ginny propped her head up on her hands and stared at the wall as Luna returned to examining the Moke.

Tom.

Unbidden, his name returned to her mind again. Her diary was already filled with entries describing him - what she loved, what she hated, what she wanted. I love him. I hate him. I want to know he's gone.

Hermione's work had paid off - Ginny had spent hours describing her life, the pressure she faced, the standard she had to meet. Her friends, family, foes... all were written down inside the red book that she carried around everywhere.

Oh Hermione was still concerned, she could see that, but as Monday had drawn to a close, she had sought out the company of the Head Girl to reassure her, and Hermione, in turn, had reassured Harry and Ron. Now, apart from the occasional furtive glance, she was free of their worry.

Today they were missing from the dinner table... Ron had mentioned a trip to Hogsmeade, hadn't he? Of course, she had been writing in her diary at the time, but he had definitely mentioned an unofficial trip to say goodbye to their favourite haunts in the magical village.

'He is definitely suffering from the snicker-snack,' announced Luna. 'I shall need to find some spines from the Opuntia.'

'Can you find them from Professor Sprout?' asked Ginny, motioning towards where the Herbology professor was leaving the Great Hall.

'Perhaps, unless they've been eaten by the Vorporals.' Luna gently picked up the Moke, slid it back into its jar, and wandered slowly after Professor Sprout.

Ginny put her head down on the table and sighed. Luna is certifiably batty, she thought, smiling briefly. She had written that down in her diary, a long description of Luna, and the many loony things she had done.

And the fact that Luna was the only person she knew who actually understood what had happened with Tom's diary, and in the Chamber.

Once again, Ginny's thoughts returned to the Chamber of Secrets. This is driving me crazy, she had written. I have to get him out of my head. If this is how Harry lives, it's a miracle that he's still sane. All I can think of is that diary and how it ruined my life. No one has been able to look at me in the same way since; no one who knows, anyway. It may just be paranoia, but I'm sure it's not... I have to see the diary, I have to know that Tom is gone for good.

Her gaze scanned the other house tables, and fixed on the one on the opposite end of the Great Hall. The Slytherins.

Slytherins...

Hadn't Lucius Malfoy last been seen with Riddle's diary?

Ginny got to her feet and nonchalantly strolled outside. Just like the diary did in first year, she wrote later on, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

'... and so Father was most displeased, and sent Lestrange around every Floo port she had visited in the past week in an attempt to find the money!' Draco Malfoy's incredulous voice drew roars of laughter from what the filthy Gryffindors had termed the "Young Death Eater Society." Pansy sighed, looking around the table. This was her last year here... three more days, and she would never sit at the Slytherin table again.

As Blaise was next to launch into a story concerning a house-elf and a rogue sock, Draco broke away from the group and sat down next to Pansy.

'Parkinson,' he said in acknowledgement. Pansy nodded her head slightly.

'Malfoy,' she said in a bored tone. 'What can I do for you?'

'You weren't paying attention,' he said, an accusing undercurrent to his otherwise indifferent tone. Pansy shrugged.

'It's our last week here. Less than a week. I want to remember everything.'

'And you don't want to remember your housemates?' Draco lifted his hand to his head and smoothed back a wayward strand of his platinum hair. 'We're like your family, Pansy.'

'I was just thinking,' said Pansy with a small smile. 'That's all. Besides, I'm sure that Lucius would have informed all of our parents as to his triumph over Lestrange.'

'For something as rare as that, I'm sure he would have.' Draco smirked. 'Bellatrix Lestrange is a formidable woman. Would you like to have what she has?'

'What, bad hair, a spell in Azkaban, and a near obsession with the Dark Lord?' Pansy shook her head vehemently as Draco stifled a laugh. 'No. But... I would like her power,' she confessed hesitantly.

'Someday, I'm sure you'll have it.' Draco smiled condescendingly. 'But a good way to begin is to listen to people as influential as I am amongst the next generation of Death Eaters.'

'Oh sod off, Draco.' Pansy got up haughtily. 'I'll get any power I want on my own. I'm stronger than you could ever imagine, Draco Malfoy, and if you don't stop being such an arrogant prat, I'll show you just how many Dark hexes I know!' She stormed off, fuming as Draco and his goons burst out laughing.

'Bloody idiots!' she hissed under her breath, emerging from the castle's main entrance out onto the grounds. The air was warm, and judging from the lack of students on the grounds, many of them could not withstand the heat. Smirking at their inferiority, she crossed the grounds, only stopping when she heard footsteps behind her. She fingered her wand, and spun around, jabbing it fiercely into the air.

'Expelliarmus!' cried the person behind her, and Pansy gaped as her wand flew through the air, to be caught neatly by Ginny Weasley.

'Weasley, give me back my wand now, and I won't have to hurt you.' Pansy felt bored. Draco had made her agitated, and now she wanted to hurt something, to show how much power she truly had... 'Well. Maybe not as much.'

'But Parkinson, I have your wand,' said Ginny coolly, a steely glint in her brown eyes, and Pansy shivered, despite the warmth of the day. 'However,' continued the Gryffindor, 'you can help me get something I want.'

'I'd never help a Gryffindor,' spat Pansy. 'Now give me my wand, or I'll resort to Muggle violence.'

'How would you like to try that after a Bat-Bogey Hex?'

Pansy knew her face was red with anger. She knew her fists were clenched and her teeth were grinding together, reminiscent of how she'd enjoy grinding all Weasleys into the dirt beneath her Pureblood feet...

She knew that Weasley was famous for her hexes, particularly the Bat-Bogey Hex. She also knew that Weasley knew much worse hexes. Bats would only be the start.

'What do you want?' she asked finally, filing this incident away under Vengeance for humiliation. Ginny Weasley would pay. Not now, no, of course not. Let her grow, let her start a family, let her enjoy seeing them all die before she, Pansy, exacted her final revenge.

Now I know why Bellatrix is so obsessed. The Dark Lord is right. Only Purebloods are worthy, not Muggle-lovers such as the Weasleys. We will see to you, Weasley, we will get you good.

Just give us a little time.

Ginny returned to the Gryffindor Tower, with Pansy's wand concealed in her robes. She didn't trust any Slytherin to do as they were asked without something being in it for them, and so wherever she went, Pansy Parkinson's wand would go.

Seating herself close to the fire, Ginny reached into her pocket and produced her diary. Flicking through it, she saw with satisfaction that everything written inside had stayed written. No dead people haunting this diary.

She opened it to the next blank page, marked by a small quill - an idea taken from Luna - and started writing down what had happened with Pansy.

I asked Pansy Parkinson to find Tom's diary for me. I know she'll do it - she won't get her wand back until I have the diary, until I can prove to myself that it's not going to hurt me again, until I can put all this behind me.

I was surprised how easily Pansy gave in. I think she's up to something, but how can I find out? I can never trust a Slytherin, after all. She may just have been offended that I told her what I'd do to her already ugly face if she didn't help me. But she shouldn't have called my idea ridiculous... how else am I meant to find... what was the word Hermione keeps using on the subject? Closure? A Muggle concept, granted, but it seems to make sense.

This has haunted me since the end of the first year. Now that I have this diary, now that I know Harry and Ron and Hermione won't be around to save me again, it's come back stronger than ever. I need to know.

Ginny placed the quill inside the diary and snapped it shut, pocketing it. Why didn't wizards use psychology? she wondered. Or maybe they did, and had different words to the Muggles. No matter, it was Hermione who had taught her of it, and since she was a Muggleborn, it was the Muggle terms she used.

And since she didn't want to be a Healer, she'd have no use for it anyway. She wanted to go into Charms, and Professor Flitwick had already told her that she'd succeed. In fact, he had confided in her, he would be retiring at the end of the year, and would leave a message with Professor Dumbledore that she was to take his place when she herself left Hogwarts. Ginny stretched out, and swung her feet over the arm of the chair, watching as the portrait opened and Ron came through, followed closely by Harry, and finally Hermione.

'Ron, take your things upstairs,' ordered Hermione, sinking into an armchair close to Ginny. 'And Harry, you can take yours too. Pack them somewhere safe.'

'I'll do it later.' Harry dumped a pile of packages down next to Hermione, ruffled Ginny's hair, and threw himself across a settee. 'Right now I need a drink, I'm parched.'

'Drink? Harry, you had four Butterbeers, at least!' Ginny raised an eyebrow at Hermione's exclamation.

'Four?' she questioned, but Ron, sitting on the arm of her chair, spoke over her.

'Madam Rosmerta didn't seem too happy that we'd be leaving,' he said with a grin. Harry and Hermione snorted with laughter.

'That's because she still hasn't figured out how we do it.' Harry gave a cheeky grin. 'We get into Hogsmeade past all the wards and walls and guards of Hogwarts.'

'You could probably get away with just walking out,' muttered Ginny, unheard as the trio burst out laughing again. 'You're the Boy Who Lived.'

'Sorry, Ginny, did you say something?' Harry wiped tears of mirth from his eyes and focused his slightly unsteady gaze on Ginny.

'Maybe we shouldn't have had that Firewhisky,' said Ron reflectively. 'I think it went to your head, mate.'

'Maybe.' Harry grinned again, and closed his eyes. Ginny stood calmly.

'I'm going for a walk. I'll see you later.' Because I'm fed up of being ignored. Waving a goodbye, she left the common room and headed for the Library.

Anywhere's better than being ignored by them all the time, she thought angrily, taking the stairs two at a time. Her red hair flew out behind her as she sprinted down the nearest corridor, not looking where she was going, or caring; trying to pretend she didn't care when she was overlooked. A scream built up inside her, and as she reached a spiralling set of stairs, as she sprinted up to the Astronomy Tower, she let it loose, and screamed with all the ferocious rage of a banshee.

Don't ignore me!

Pansy took a deep, calming breath, and went in search of Draco. She had cursed at a series of bugs, books, and Hufflepuffs, wishing them into oblivion, flames, and driving them to tears. It had succeeded in making her feel less humiliated by Weasley, and now she had to exact her revenge.

If she wants Riddle's diary, I can provide it. She's wrong, it won't make her feel better. It'll make her feel worse. She'll write in it, and nothing will respond, and she'll become crazy. It's perfect, and she handed it to me on a plate!

'Raptus Regaliter,' she said to the stone wall that protected the Slytherin Common Room. It slid open slowly, and she made her way down the dark stone steps.

'Zabini, Nott,' she acknowledged as she made her way through her fellow Slytherins. 'Bulstrode.' They nodded briefly, and returned to their books, chess game, and packing. 'Have you seen Malfoy?'

'Try up in the dorm,' gestured Blaise. Pansy smiled briefly in thanks and headed for the stairs leading to the male dormitory.

'Draco?' she called. His voice, as snide and arrogant as ever, floated back to her:

'What do you want, Parkinson?'

'You have something I want.' With Ginny Weasley's face imprinted firmly in her mind, Pansy smirked. 'And I can give you something you've been wanting for ages.' She stopped outside the door. It swung open slowly, calculatingly, and Draco's unforgiving grey eyes looked out.

'What can you give me?' he asked. Pansy smiled evilly, and stepped inside.

'Weasley's downfall.'

The owl tapped on the window at close to midnight. Ginny jumped up from her seat and ran to let it in. She was alone in the common room, with just her diary to keep her occupied. She had spent the past hour complaining how she needed to forget about the diary, about how she needed to forget about the events of her fifth year in the Department of Mysteries, how she needed to get out of Hogwarts.

It was a handsome eagle owl, and it fluttered gracefully onto a cluttered table as she threw open the window. It held a small package and a letter. Ginny took the letter first.

Weasley,

Here. Now return my wand.

Pansy.

Her heart skipped a beat. It's here. His diary is here. And as she relieved the owl of the package, as she fixed Pansy's wand to its leg and instructed it to return to Pansy, she knew that closure was just an excuse.

She just had to see it again. He wouldn't be in it, of course he wouldn't - Harry destroyed him in the Chamber - but her burning desire to see Tom, to see the diary that had cared for her and loved her when she was isolated - even if it was a pretence - she needed the comfort.

Ginny picked up her own diary, held the delivery from Pansy close to her chest, and ran up the stairs to her room. Once she was safely in bed, once she had total privacy, she would open it.

Not before. Save it.

And within seconds, it seemed, she was in bed, with her diary sitting in her lap, a fresh new entry added.

It's here. Pansy did it. I knew she would. I've got it again - the one thing that made my first year tolerable, even if it did possess me. Now I don't know what to do.

If I see it, and Tom isn't there, then I'll know it's safe. If he is there - and I won't be checking - then I'll never be able to get over my first year, my fears.

Do I want to?

She watched as the ink dried. When she was sure it wouldn't smudge, she set the small red book aside and carefully picked up Pansy's dark gift - Tom Riddle's diary.

Ripping the paper off it, she stared hungrily as the familiar black cover was revealed. The hole in the centre was missing. Evidently Lucius Malfoy, or whichever Death Eater had been entrusted with its care, had repaired it.

Ginny cautiously opened the diary, smiling briefly as the pages that had been her closest friend once again opened up to her, inviting her to write inside it.

Once won't hurt. Just to see if he's gone or not... How else am I going to find out?

Hesitating for a second, her heart pounding wildly in her chest, Ginny reached for her quill. And now she knew that she didn't want Tom to be gone. She wanted his confidence, his familiar presence, his love. She wanted him to be there. His words, his advice, his soft whispers... I love you, Ginny. Do you love me? Will you help me become real? and her responses... Yes! I want you here with me, Tom. I love you too.

Not even Luna had understood that what had passed between them was more than a Slytherin's manipulation. He loved her, he truly loved her, and she loved him more than anything else.

She bit the end of her quill thoughtfully, before placing the tip to the paper.

Hello Tom. It's me, Ginny Weasley.

The blue ink shone, shrunk, and was absorbed. New words formed on the page.

I knew you'd be back.

... dun dun dun!

Part three will be uploaded sometime soon. Did you spot the Jabberwocky references? And the other challenge criteria slipped in? Tell me what they were, and virtual cookies to all who get them right next chapter!