Tom glanced down at Ginny. It was obvious that she was having one of those nightmares that she so often wrote about. Her hands were gripping the sheet so tightly that her knuckles were white and her forehead was dappled with sweat.

'Tom...' she whispered, as a single tear slid down her cheek. He watched it roll down her face and disappear into her pillow. Lying next to her was the unfinished letter and a quill, which was making a stain on the sheets. He reread the letter once more.

Dear Tom,

They still bother me, those girls. You said that you would get rid of them. But then again, that was 5 years ago. Why don't you come back? Why can't you see that I need you? I don't want you though.

I get voices in my head telling me to do things I don't want to do. I wanted them to go away but then I thought that maybe, it was you. But it wasn't, was it...

All this talk of betrayal annoyed Tom. He didn't desert her. He was here, wasn't he? But that's just the thing, he wasn't really there. How could he be when he was just a memory? Sure Harry destroyed the diary, but he couldn't get to the part of Tom that was still in Ginny. Ginevra? He thought, did I really tell you to change your name? Hmm... But Ginny is you.

She had changed a lot in five years time, both mentally and physically, and now she was less innocent and more aware. Her body had grown curves and her features were sharper, although that might be because of her violently cut hair. It had been hacked away with scissors by the looks of it, and now was regrowing in uneven, red clumps. It was true, he had hated the colour red, but not as much as he hated what she had done to herself.

He slowly pushed up the covers and exposed Ginny's arm, holding his candle close so that he could see. There in her flesh was a harsh copy of the dark mark. It was done in painful gashes and slits, and the effect was spectacular, if not a bit crude. This seemed a very desperate way of making the mark, but as every witch or wizard knows, the best way to make a scar is without magic, because it wont fade as much over time. Well, thought Tom, If it is my mark that she wants, my mark she shall have. He slowly lifted his wand and pointed the tip against her skin.

'Impertio!' he hissed, and the cuts in her arm filled with ink and healed, leaving a genuine dark mark in its place. Ginny cried out softly in her sleep, and recoiled. Tomorrow she would see the mark and know that he had been there, but that was okay. Tom was sure that the nightmares she was having had just gotten a whole lot worse. But that was just the beginning, because soon he would be back and then there would be a lot more pain and suffering, until he got what he wanted.

Tom turned away from Ginny and blew out the candle before exiting the room from the way he had come.

X..x..X..x..X..x..X

Ginny woke as the sun reached her window, and propped herself up on her pillows. The dreams last night were as bad as always. She dreamt that she was back in the chamber, and there was Tom, standing there, unmoving. She rushed up to embrace him but he didn't even blink. He was still. Something was wrong. Ginny had tried to make him respond but he was just standing there.

She ran a hand through her scraggly hair and struggled to remember the rest of her dream. She hadn't known what to do so she felt for a pulse, but she couldn't find one. She was crying by then, and running her hands over his face, desperate for a response...

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he was staring at her. She had gasped and stepped back a few paces because of what she saw. His left eye was a dark blue and emotionless as ever, but his right eye was glinting maliciously, and bright green in colour. It wasn't Tom after all.

Ginny relaxed back into her pillow. She couldn't remember the rest of her dream. Just a sort of burning feeling... She always blocked out the worst parts, so all she was left with were flashes of what had happened, and a vague feeling of discomfort. Sometimes she would feel a bit of the pain as well, but not often anymore. That was why she always had a shower in the morning, to wash away last night's dreams.

She got up and pulled the curtains shut. The sunlight was too bright, and she much preferred small dark places. The next thing to do was to take a shower before the other girls got up and started their meaningless chatter. Ginny always felt wide awake in the mornings, and she couldn't understand why other people lay there sleeping in. It was the nights that troubled Ginny. Once she was alone in the quiet, and the darkness she was the loneliest for Tom. And that's when she wrote the letters, to feel closer to him. They read a bit like a diary now, telling what was happening in her life.

Ginny gathered all of her things together and slipped into the bathroom. She avoided looking in the mirror as usual. She knew that the person that looked back at her wouldn't be herself; it would be Ginny Weasley, the daughter of Molly and Arthur. The girl with six friendly brothers and freckles. That's what people saw when they looked at her, but she knew better. But by accident Ginny caught her reflection in the mirror and gasped. There, on her arm, was a skull with a snake protruding from the mouth. The Dark Mark... But that would mean... Tom.