A/n: sorry...I knew someone'd be confused. Hermione was the witch of last chapter, Monikka. I'm glad I inspired you, and I'm sorry if it will be hard to write, but I'm sure you'll manage it. If you don't post it on your homepage, would you tell me it? I'd love to hear it...

Ginny shook Hermione awake quickly. Hermione was screaming and crying and...her lower lip was bleeding.

"What's wrong?" she asked her. She couldn't believe no one else had heard her.

"N-nothing," Hermione mumbled.

Ginny's face turned to indifference. "Liar," she whispered. "You said Tom's name."

Hermione looked up at Ginny, still shaking uncontrollably. "O-oh,' she managed. "Did I?"

"Yes." Ginny crossed her arms. "What would you be dreaming of him for? He isn't yours."

"No, you're right Ginny." Hermione said softly, lying down again to sleep. "He's not."

And thank god, she thought before falling asleep.

Ginny stood beside Hermione's bedside, staring at the sleeping girl, ugly thoughts coursing through her.

I could kill her, Ginny thought contemptuously. It would be so easy. One slit with the razor, right across her throat...she'd never stand a chance.

She suddenly froze. She had been walking towards Hermione's things, her razors! What was she doing?

She could've killed her. She almost did.

"Oh, gods," Ginny breathed, clutching her head and sliding to the floor. Why? Why would she think that?

But Tom would never wanted Hermione, she soothed herself. Tom tried to kill Hermione, with the basilisk.

She crawled into her bed and fell asleep very quickly.

"Oh, gods," she murmured. She had never been there before, but she already hated the place. Black-blue sky. Cold.

"Oh, gods," she repeated, sliding to the ground and shutting her eyes against it. Black. Cold. Like Tom's diary. Like Tom's soul.

She could've cleansed it, she knew, she could've cleansed it.

Why didn't she?

She started running.

She knew where she was...and she knew who she would find there.

"Tom," she said at last.

He turned around, his eyes full of misery.

"Leave."

"She didn't come here, did she?"

He cleared his throat. "She interrogated me. On your behalf."

"I'm sorry about that."

He shook his head. "No reason to be."

She walked over to him but he stepped away.

"You'll never come here again." He said sternly, and she shook her head.

"How will I find you again, Tom?" she called.

He turned around calmly and hit her in the face. Startled, she fell.

"That's what you did to the mudblood," she cried.

Then she realised what she had said.

He was looking at her with an unreadable expression, then his face knotted itself into an appearance of horrible sadism.

"Then you of course realise that I see you as the same, blood traitor," and he walked away.

Ginny crumpled and fell crying t the ground. When she looked up she saw that the landscape had dissolved. He would never let her back there, where they could speak as equals.

Now they would meet in her mightmares.

In her sleep, she was once again to fall victim to him. She was at his mercy entirely.

And mercy he had not.