Every day
People in their own sweet way
Like to add a coat of paint
And be what they hate.

That's how our little
Game is played,
Living out a Masquerade,
Acting a bizarre charade
While playing the saint!

Jekyll Hyde, Façade.

Stained with Ink

Snake carvings were everywhere. In the middle of the chamber was a huge statue of Salazar Slytherin, complete with Tom in front of it. Ginny took small steps towards him, looking around. He just stood very still, his eyes fixed on her, waiting.

"Tom? What's going on? Why did you make me write that on the wall?" she asked timidly when she reached him, frightened of what the answer might be. Tom moved towards her and closed in the gap between them, a smile playing at his lips.

"Oh Gin," he laughed scornfully, his arms gesturing around as if to ask if it wasn't already obvious. Her red hair was separated into small pigtails, braided at the end with no real care. Playfully, he took one in his hand and made to fix it. Eyes wide, Ginny moved away. "What's the matter? Are you tired of our game now, Gin?" At her nod, he smirked. He took another step nearer to her.

"It isn't a game anymore, Tom! People are getting hurt!"

"Because of you." Tom's voice was stiff and harsh. "You did all of this yourself, my princess. Don't go blaming me and begging me to stop. Because I never will. I will be with you until you die!" Her lips were trembling at the truth and she tried to wipe away her tears with the ends of her hair. "You did this yourself, AND you will be mine forever." His hands were rough on hers and tugging at them did not loosen his hold. "You will be MINE!"

She started screaming, but was silenced by Tom covering her mouth with his and practically forcing his tongue down her throat. Ginny tried to back away, but ended up with her back against the wall and his arms on either side of her body blocking her escape. The damp and the dirt on the wall ruined her brand new uniform that had cost so much of her savings. She winced as Tom broke away from her mouth and by the way he was sighing, she could tell he was heartily annoyed with her. Before she had time to think any further, he had put his lips up to her ear. Seeing her start to shake, he began twisting her hair around his fingers idly for added effect. Her head turned from his and she closed her eyes. At this, he paused for a second, the anger overtaking him again, and he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her harder against the wall, knocking her head against the stone so roughly, stars appeared behind her eyes.

"Gin, don't fight me. It will only be worse for you." She guessed it was his version of showing mercy, by giving his victims fair warning. Her entire body shaking with fear, she brought up her quaking hands and tried to push him away. His eyes narrowed and she was again forced against the wall, blood dripped from her hair and stained her clothes as her head was knocked against the wall again. "Damn it, Virginia! I said, don't fight me!" His lips enclosed hers and when she tried once again to push him away, he angrily bit her bottom lip, causing her to whimper softly into his mouth. His hands were moving around her back, under her clothing; cold fingers gripping at the skin. Tears were falling down her cheeks; he looked at them for a moment before taking his hands off her body to remove her robe with one deft movement. Blushing at her schoolgirl attire, Ginny tried to pull down her skirt so it covered more of her legs, but he didn't want that. His hand began to slide up her leg smoothly.

Whimpering again, she looked away and tried to imagine happier things. Images of Harry filled her mind and she decided it was worth a try. Screaming, Ginny pointed at the entrance to try and trick Tom into believing Harry had come in early. His head snapped over his shoulder, and his hands momentarily stopped moving until he saw that there was no one there. Turning back, Ginny used his moment of disorientation to break free of his grasp, and then she ran.

The dream was different now. Yet still it plagued her sleep, waking her up in a fit of panic. At least she could wake herself up now. She couldn't fall back asleep for fear that it would continue where she awoke and she would have to feel his body pressed to hers again. Involuntarily, the tears began to fall. And she let them fall. She let them fall until no more could come and her eyes were dry.

It had been a day since she had come down here. Ginny was curled up against the bedpost, eyes wide open, just waiting for Tom to come again. She was too vulnerable now that she was so weak. Her bones trembled with every breath she took, and her lungs felt about to collapse upon themselves. Every time the most miniature noise occurred, her senses went into overdrive and her body would freeze. Tears would leak onto the already tear-stained pillow as her body racked with silent sobs. Then the moment would pass and she would be tense against the bedpost again, waiting for another noise to come and engulf her small body in terror.

This whole Sunday morning, which should have been used to help raise her abysmal Potions grades, was wasted as she clutched onto the bedpost. He could do anything he wanted with her. That's what frightened her the most. Her best friend in the world had turned into the flesh-yearning phantom of this Chamber. His eyes burnt her flesh with its lustful gaze. He would slaughter for her to stay at his side forever more. And in doing so, he might just kill her as well.

There was a phrase he had written to her once. It was probably barely last month he had said it, but now it seemed so long ago… She had asked why he loved to frighten her so, in a laughing state. He had replied with Fear can turn to love, you'll see. Oh, yes my princess. Fear can turn to love. She hadn't understood what he meant by that at the present time. Did he want her to love him? For she did. And after she had said so to him, she could feel his happiness. Arms wrapped around her waist from behind them, offering her warmth. And even though she knew these hands that she admired so were not at all alive, she could tell, she would be safe.

Those same hands had held the wand pointed at her heart earlier that morning.

The room she was in was beautiful, well, as beautiful as something can be when it traps you like a prison of stone. She was on a low flying cloud it felt, there was an eighteenth century bed with cedar wood for the base and little pieces of heaven as sheets. Either it had been redecorated when the chamber was first opened half a century ago, or Slytherin must have entertained a lot in bed, enough to go out of his way to buy a future-esque bed. And she was almost quite certain from what she had read that this was the Chamber of Secrets.

All that was actually in the room besides her bed was a small shelf on the wall and two mysterious doors. One, she knew, led to where Tom had brought her from yesterday when she was unconscious from the cursing. It led straight to the center of the Chamber. She was foolish if she thought her knight in shining armor would rescue her from here. The door was hidden within the shadows of the Chamber, visible only from the head of Slytherin's statue. The other door in the room with her led to God only knew where!

Ginny never did appreciate mysteries.

"Curiosity killed the cat." Preached every parent who had ever known her and her inability to handle not knowing. A small sneer darkened Ginny's face for a second as she remembered those good-for-nothing "teachers" who thought enough of themselves to push their ideas onto others. Well, she thought, blasphemous against all her teachers. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back.

Long ago she had abandoned the idea of trying to force her way out from the doors. From testing each one, she realized that they wouldn't open now, nor when she had bruised her side trying to bang it open. So the only thing to do was wait, and maybe read one of Tom's books.

Creaking as her weight shifted, the bed relented its prisoner to silently creep across the freezing stones on the floor. Amongst the few books on the shelf was a small handheld mirror; her pale face startled even herself as she gazed at her reflection. Her hair hung limply onto her shoulders and her face looked as pale as the marble freezing her feet. Small cuts from when she had thrashed against the curse's hold covered inches at a time over her skin. The red staining her pale face made her gingerly touch a cut that stretched from under her hair to a freckle halfway to her lips. It was awfully… thrilling. It made her feel as if the pain she had felt inside for days now was seeping out in the form of blood.

Putting aside the mirror that must be charmed, as she could not possibly look like that, Ginny frivolously picked up a leather-bound book. In shock of seeing a mirror image of her own diary, the diary fell from her hand onto the floor, lifting a light mushroom cloud of dust. This must be the diary Tom writes in. But that would mean that within her ink lived not a friend. Merely a boy who was tickling her fancy by responding to her when she wrote. No. He must have been in the diary at some point.

With a long eagle pen she stole from beneath the shelf, covered in the dust, she tested her theory half-heartedly. But unlike her hypothesis, the words she wrote on the last page of this diary stayed put and never even showed the slightest trace of ink in her own pages. So, she looked to see if maybe there was still writing on the other pages. From the beginning was the rambling of a person to their journal. However, later on, the boy seemed to start talking and arguing with himself on paper. Certainly these conversations were just another situation like Tom and she had had. But then a new handwriting would spark from Tom's quill. About halfway through, Ginny recognized Draco's handwriting amongst Tom's. So Draco did know Tom. Well, Tom did say that Lucius had given him to her. In respect for Draco's privacy, she skipped over his section.

Near the end, about three fourths of the way through, she saw her own conversations with Tom. This diary had a record of each conversation Tom had ever so much as set his quill down to mark the pages. Maybe if she talked first in her diary, the words would appear in the other. Sure enough, the test became a success. Biting her lip, Ginny searched the room with her eyes for her wand before screaming in frustration. Of course a smart wizard like Tom would never leave a prisoner with their wand. But his had to be in here somewhere…

After carefully checking around, Ginny sighed and closed her eyes, intent on using all of her energy to perform this small bit of magic. Latin flowing lazily from her mouth, Ginny erased the cloaking spell that kept her from seeing what he wrote. No longer would she see only what he wanted her to see. Now Tom could never write in his diary without her seeing it. There would be no more secrets. A deranged smile of sorts was on Ginny's face as she climbed back onto her position on the bed.

A click sounded from the Chamber door, causing Ginny to clench the post so tightly her knuckles were white. Footsteps pounded on the floor, growing closer and closer in a painstakingly slow rhythm. They stopped right up next to the bed, and Ginny felt herself shift slightly towards the center of the bed, towards where a new weight rested. An ice-cold hand brushed her cut. Holding back a shiver, Ginny clasped her eyelids together and feigned sleep. "I know you're awake, Gin." When she allowed him to see her eyes flutter open, Tom was face to face, lying next to her on the bed. "Good morning, princess."

So as to not scream, Ginny bit her upper lip, and willed herself to not scramble away. Bottle-green eyes mesmerized her plain brown doll ones. "Tom…." Ginny began with wide eyes. He wasn't watching her face, but was focused on his hands traveling to her cheek. Even from a few centimeters away, the cold radiated from his fingertips. With her small word, Tom moved one finger from side to side and put it up to her blood-red lips.

"Shush, princess." With the hand not being used to silence his captive, Tom reached into his back pocket and brandished a large, silver key to her. He let the light glint off of it; he was enticing her to it. "I don't bother with wizard locking spells, Gin. You might have figured that out when you tried every one you knew on the doors." Why did he feel the need to mock her again with his laughing grin? "There are enough dark Slytherin locks around this place to ward off any… er… 'Unsuspecting' trespassers." He half-laughed, half-hissed sarcastically. Her hand lifted to touch the hoary key, and Tom smirked as he offered it to her. "But," he withdrew his hand and the key, "I didn't want to have even a dark Slytherin like myself to get to whatever-" he paused, eyeing Ginny up and down. "Or whoever I had in here by inheritance alone. Muggles are very smart for their own protection." Ginny remained hushed throughout his explanation, except for her slightly staggered breathing. She was still in such a state of shock that she couldn't comprehend anything Tom was saying.

Seeing the stilled calmness and shock at the same time on her face, Tom let out a quiet cackle, obviously thinking that he had terrified her. He laid his hand on her shoulder. "What's the matter, princess?" Get your perfect hand away from me. "Princess?" Dipped in blood… streaking my white nightgown with fresh blood... "Princess!" His commanding voice quavered her body as the person inside her head took away her poise, and she crumpled into a ball on the corner of the bed, shielding her face.

"Salazar, Gin." He hoisted her upright against the bedpost and gave her an irritated look when she gaped, open-mouthed, at him. "Surely I'm not that hideous that you have to gawk at me whenever I try to articulate with you." Always the eloquent speaker he was to Ginny. With a finger placed on her chin, he snapped her mouth closed. Self-conscious, Ginny averted her eyes.

"Tom," she said, already pushing away. "I… I think… I need to go. I have to- I need to do… I just have to go." His eyes sharpened for a moment before returning to their typical, placid state. He clambered off the bed, holding out a hand for her to do the same. Reluctantly, she took it and allowed herself to be pulled towards his body. Upright, her hair cascaded down to her coin-sized waist. Grinning, Tom took a moment to congratulate himself for getting this girl so close. His arms wrapped around her emaciated waist.

Taking a slow, audible breath, Tom was caught by Ginny's eyes, as he was captivated by the way her flame danced in the eerie light of the Chamber. The flames licked her waist as she swayed side to side in an intoxicating dance. With her red hair the color of flames, a dark sort of red-orange, many were enticed and mesmerized by its constant fire. It smelled like fresh apples, Tom noted as he sniffed daintily at her beautiful hair, causing her eyes to go wide. They glistened like glass balls, like eyes tend to do when they fill with tears but refuse to let them fall.

"You should stay." Tom put his arm across the doorway, barricading her path. "Stay with me." Ginny held her chin high. He couldn't diminish her like that. She would not bow to his every will at the snap of a finger. His hand reached out to feel the warmth of her body against his yearning skin. To avoid his touch, she turned her head, offering to his view her profile. His lustful eyes bored into her and Ginny shuddered, closing her eyes to avoid the desire in his.

In her fear, the lights flickered on and off in their room as a result of their mixed emotions. Ginny stumbled backwards and hugged the bedpost from the ground to not scream. Her eyes were darting back and forth for a place to protect herself in as did not want to be with Tom, weak, in the flickering lights. He just laughed an odd and somehow frightening laugh.

Then the lights went out and plunged them both into darkness.

Ginny's coarse, shallow breathing filled every nook and cranny of the room. Tom took a step backward and let the wave of power wash over him, overwhelming his senses. The power knocked him into the doorframe, and he laughed in spite of it all, frightening Ginny into letting the tears form a puddle by the base of the bed. Ahhhh, he breathed with ease, each second feeling the door solidify around his hand. The wonderful feeling of running hot with magic coursed its way through his bloodstream, pumping the blood to his heart. With her magic, at least at this time, he was alive.

"Wonderful panic." He gloated, bringing back the glow of a few candles with a wave of his hand.

"I'll tell. Do you think I don't know your plans?" she whispered. Tom squatted to better hear his princess with a frown on his face. "How do you think you can leave me in a room with that diary and not expect me to find it. Every word you've ever written… every conversation you've had with yourself, Draco, or me; it's all in there. You want to know what else was in there? Your words when you scratched the pen across the pages in an effort to stop from going mad, all your plans from when you were first imprisoned in there, and everything else is still in that tiny, stupid, Muggle book!"

Imprisoned… Why did she use that word? There was something familiar in that truth… "I know your plans! I'll just take the diary up to Dumbledore and tell him everything. He'll send you away! You'll never see me again! I will tell." Ginny's shaky voice broke at the end of her brave façade and she slumped against the bed, giving up everything to Tom to do as he wished with her.

No matter how uncertain her tiny threat was, still, if she told even one other soul, news would get to Dumbledore. That old coot had always hated him. And if she told, all of the plans he had so carefully detailed, despite being careless with their safekeeping, would all shrivel up and die. There was no way in all of the seven hells Tom Marvolo Riddle would allow that to happen.

Walking swiftly over to the bookshelf and pocketing his diary, Tom took a few seconds to pause and register her words and her threat so he had it perfectly in his mind. And as he did, he realized what she had truly said. "Fool! You foolish, foolish girl! You can't tell Dumb-as-a-door about me! He'll send me back to my own time, leaving you here all alone to bear the weight of this Chamber of Secrets on your shoulders. As long as I am here, I can make it easier for you to shoulder that load. But you cannot and will not live without me!" His voice was fierce and was darkening the room all over again. He grabbed her forearm, causing her to wince when he grabbed a part where her skin had been torn open by the unforgiving chamber floor.

Ginny whimpered as he twisted it ruthlessly, quickly biting hard onto her lip so that he could not hear her. She knew from the conversations between Draco and Tom if you showed you were being hurt, that they would just make it worse for her. She could almost envision his face contorting in anger; his hand lashing out strike her face, but hopefully, the harder she bit down, the less he would hear.

His hand released her arm and he put his hand to the corner of her closed lips. A trickle of blood was making a path down her chin and he used his forefinger to wipe it off and inspect it. After a moment, he seemed to come to a decision and his arm really did lash out this time, hitting her right where the bloodstain was, causing her teeth to chatter against each other.

Her head reeling, Ginny collapsed to the floor, a brief smile lighting up her face before disappearing into the dirt on the floor. A few seconds afterward, the room's light sputtered on, spreading light over Ginny's body, face down on the floor, and the look of utmost horror on Tom's face. "Ginny!" His voice still seemed brutal, but when she looked back to at him, his hand was at his throat, confused at the voice coming out, masking as his own. "Dear Salazar, I am so sorry." He gave up on trying to get his normal voice back and just knelt down to her, turning her softly so she was facing him. "Are you all right?" One of the only persons to ever pay attention to me has just abused me for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, Tom. Do you think I'm all right? These were the words that Ginny desperately wanted to rub into Tom's face, along with some of the dirt on the floor.

But Ginny Weasley was a good little girl.

A hand slipped into hers and, unwillingly, she felt her body react automatically and take it. Tom pulled her up to the bed by her hand. She just flopped down where he pulled or pushed her, massaging her arm. Brown marks showed where his fingers had gripped so tightly. "It'll never happen again, princess. Never. You're too important." Looking into his honest, green eyes, Ginny could see he was lying, but at the moment she didn't care. She wanted- oh how much she wanted- what he said to be true. Maybe her instinct was wrong.

"I won't tell." Tom's face grew into a gleeful smirk.

"Good girl," he whispered into her ear as he stroked her copper hair. Shivering, Ginny cracked her lips trying to smile at Tom. He should think that she wasn't scared, that his lesson wasn't learned, that she was still just as innocent as she was when they first met…

She was his Trophy Bride. He didn't want her for Ginny. Although she loved him, she knew he only wanted someone innocent at his side with power when he triumphed. And by being the last female heir of Rowena Ravenclaw… who better to have as an accomplice?

Tom pushed himself off the bed and extended his hand to her. Confused, Ginny gingerly placed her hand in it, eyes widening as she found herself wrapped up in his arms. "Dance with me, princess." It wasn't a proposal. It was a command. A command issued in a sweet breath, but a command nevertheless. Ginny tried to push the arms off of her but the furthest she could get was about two feet away, their arms remaining entwined.

"I can't dance, Tom. There's no music." Tom smiled in a way that made him seem innocent even to her. All that he did was pull her back to him, swaying slightly from sided to side, humming a simple tune. The tune was familiar… a classic for formal dances, but as he began to make his own accompaniment, an invisible orchestra of elaborate harps, violins, and other instruments Ginny couldn't recognize all joined in. He smiled into her hair, swinging her so that he was no longer behind her. It was a great pleasure for him to see her eyes light up at the music in awe and wonderment.

"Come…" He pulled lightly on her hands, pushing open the door with his foot and leading her into the main Chamber. Expecting an amazing illusion to overtake her, Ginny was surprised to see the snakes and stone surrounding her. But out of Tom's hand came a mask, white with gold sequence around the border, tinting the cheeks slightly pink. When he swung her around to where he had full control over her from the back, he slipped the mask over her head, tightening the band.

Immediately when she looked through the small holes that posed for eyes, marble washed over the stone, and the many snakes carved into the wall changed into beautiful carvings of angels. They weren't alone either. They both faced the grand mirror that reflected the entire ballroom from the east wall. And in the mirror, dozens, maybe hundreds of couples danced perfectly in the rhythm, each wearing a mask, a ball gown, or black dress robes and a tie. Ginny blushed and shut her eyes, embarrassed for still wearing her school clothes from the night before. But when her eyes were reopened, a green dress hung from her petite frame, swirling with the lightest movement.

"Oh," she gasped, delighted for once to be the princess she had always pretended to be. Behind her, she could feel Tom's glee. Her arms were covered in elegant white gloves that went to the middle of her forearm. She felt a hand slip into her gloved one and turned to face Tom, who was the only one not wearing a mask. "Well, if you're not wearing one, I refuse to." She made a move to take off the mask, but his hands clenched over hers when she moved it a tiny bit. From the view under her mask, the Chamber was still there, not this grand hall. Tom smiled nervously and he led her into a marvelous dance on the dance floor, ignoring her wide-eyed, questioning stares as he fixed her mask.

"Just keep the mask on," he said through his teeth. With each move, this all seemed so unreal. The pillars had gargoyles, nearly hidden in the shadows, all watching her. The hold on her hands lessened and Ginny found that Tom was nowhere in sight. Instantly, a nameless masked man forced her to rejoin the dance. He wore a Ravenclaw tie over his dress robes and, startled, Ginny realized that all these people were her schoolmates. Harry's mop of untidy black hair stood out from a corner of the room. He was wearing a white mask over his face, but his eyes followed her progress on the dance floor. With him stood her brother, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys, even Bill and Charlie!

The boy leading her in dance leant down as they twirled and whispered in her ear, "He's looking for you." At Ginny's surprised glance back at him, he continued. "He doesn't like sharing his toys. You're ogling Potter over there, and he's watching you from above."

Another man cut him off and stole Ginny away. This time, it was a Gryffindor tie that caught her attention on the boy's chest. "Forgive my friend. He knows not of what he speaks." Ginny's eyes wandered the crowds and even the high walls for Tom. But there was no need. His face was still as the couples went in circles around him. He never moved, only watched her. The boy dancing with her twirled her and let her go as she tried to make her way to her family. No one picked up the dance this time though.

A pair of hands took hers, and when she looked into the face of this man, Tom's eyes looked back at her.

"Not trying to run away, are you?" Her eyes went wide at his mocking tone, and she struggled against his hands. One hand was freed and she tried to run to the other side of the room where her family and Harry all watched her with growing interest. "Dance with me, princess!" The commanding voice was back again in his words as he tried to grab back her free hand. Thoroughly frightened, Ginny used her hand to wrench off the mask.

The marble dissolved back into stone, the exquisite angels all morphed back to snakes, and Ginny could breath easier without the green gown hugging her body. The sequenced mask in one hand, Ginny turned to Tom who was slapping himself on the forehead for letting her come back. The other hand that Tom had dropped when the Hall disappeared, Ginny held to her chest, trying to stifle the sound of her pounding heart.

"What happened to my little Ginny who would laugh until the sun came up?" Tom asked lamentably, staring at the stone under his palm. Ginny lowered her eyes, focusing on the memory of their entwined hands and spinning bodies. If she thought very hard on the memory, she could feel the blood twirling around in her head like it does when one spins around really fast. "You're ignoring the question." He sighed, annoyed. "Ever since you met that Malfoy brat, you've changed."

A sort of laugh mixed with a sob croaked from Ginny's throat and she realized her eyes were watering. Damn tears. Tom's eyes widened as he saw the tears falling off her face and he inched further away, always making sure she didn't come near him. "Tom, I've known Draco even longer than I've known you." Remembering, Tom saw in flashes being pulled out of Lucius Malfoy's pocket and slipped into a secondhand book. Ginny's book. How clever it had been!

As he saw the tears drift less and less frequently down her face, Tom grabbed her hand and proceeded to take a section of her robe to wipe all remaining traces of tears from her cheeks. Struggling, Ginny wrested her hand away from his grasp and fell down onto the stone floor with the effort. Seeing her there, trying to crawl away on the floor, Tom knelt down beside her, wanting to remind her what would happen if she decided to leave him.

"You will die without me," was all he said. Ginny was still catching her breath and only looked at him solemnly. If I'm with you, I'll die as well. The last thoughts of that angelic dance glided out of her mind and it only made the moss-covered ground and walls seem all the more darker and ominous. His bottle-green eyes locked with hers, never flinching away or even blinking. There was no speculation that maybe he was lying. She could tell when he was lying because his right eye twitched slightly if she ever stared at him.

He may have lied to her about the date or that he would never hurt her, but this one thing that she wished with all her might was a lie, was the one thing that was the truth. The tears grazed at Ginny's eyelashes but with a will like she had never felt before, she was able to make them disappear again. She used to be strong, and independent, and rebellious. Now she would contort herself to match the expectations Tom set for her. Their souls were tied so tightly in a knot now that she couldn't escape with both of them alive.

Making his eyes sparkle, Ginny reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled back into the dance. Green is such a pretty color to shine, she thought, although his smirk did not reach his eyes. Like always, they were separate. Widened eyes showed amidst a gasp of fear and surprise as Ginny pushed Tom away. He looked at her, confused, as she held herself. "Your eyes, Tom. They're green…." Lacing their fingers together, Tom pulled Ginny back towards him, smiling through gritted teeth. He kept trying to force the mask over her head as he began to dance with her again, but she refused, insisting that she see what was really happening. "Please, Tom," Ginny pleaded, dragging her body to keep up with Tom's ever moving body around the floor. "Please, can we stop and… talk? Please."

Immediately, he dropped her hands, plopping "elegantly" onto the bed with a sigh. In silence they waited for a few seconds before Tom sighed again and summoned her to his side with a pat at the spot next to him. Whether in relief or fear, Ginny let out the breath she had been holding and obliged, curiously gazing at him.

"What?" he snapped. Ginny was taken aback but hid her surprise behind the glittering mask of discomfort. Taking her hand, Ginny reluctantly raised it to Tom's cheek, pausing when he flinched away.

"Your eyes, Tom. They're green," she stated hesitantly, flipping his hair out of his eyes with the back of her fingers. Tom tried humoring her by goggling with widened eyes so she could clearly see all of the green that was physically possible unless she spooned out his eyes and put them in a jar on her desk. But there was no flush in Ginny's cheeks or a change in her expression as she expected an answer, so he just rolled his perfectly green eyes at her.

"Talk about a news flash, my brainy little alchemist. It just so happens, that my eyes have always been green." Frowning, she grabbed both sides of Tom's face and forced him to remain staring into her eyes as she dived into the depths of his soul through the empty green eyes he wore. With a soft snarl, Tom pushed her hands away, causing her body to fall against the bed as he stood up and leant against the wall. But as she continued to watch him wearily, he began to grow aggravated. "What?"

"They weren't green before. They were a sort of… coal, or maybe dark blue. How is it that your eyes can change color overnight if you aren't a metamorphosis or something like that?" Throughout this talk, a look of shock was blooming more and more apparent on Tom's face.

He murmured nonchalantly to himself, allowing Ginny to pull him back down next to her on the bed. "It can't… too soon… Ginny? No… It's just… it can't happen now… Not now… Oh God, not now!" He just kept muttering to himself, no matter how many ways Ginny tried to soothe him.

"Breathe, Tom. Take a long, deep breath." At her sweet-talk, he inhaled sharply a few times until his lids opened to reveal green eyes tainted around the edges by brown. With another breath he was able to form an intelligent sentence for the first time in the past five minutes. "What happened? When my eyes were coal or blue, or whatever else you said, I mean." Somehow, a mocking quality had crept into his voice when he mentioned the supposed colors of his eyes the other day. Ginny had paused, her hand halfway through his silky waves of midnight black when he had spoken. Her hand trembled, slightly mussing up the somewhat crimped style Tom's hair took as she thought of what to him. How in the world can he not remember? Taking the hand from his hair and gently rubbing her arm, Ginny was uncomfortable with the thoughts eagerly bouncing around in her mind; wanting to get out. I can still feel it? How can he not remember? I can still feel it…

"You…." At his face, she decided that he needed to know everything. Whether he couldn't remember it, or he was just playing the innocent victim, Ginny didn't know. But she didn't care. She just hoped that Her Tom was different than the one she had met the previous night. "You slapped me around a bit. Hurt me a lot…" He had wondered where that gash on her temple had come from. Her neck was red and her voice hoarse from the screaming. Following his gaze, Ginny uncomfortably ran her fingers over the wound, wincing slightly. "Then you cast a spell on me." Those seven words brought out a panicky side in Tom that Ginny had never seen before.

"And what spell would that be, princess?" Trying to keep his cool, Tom nervously wrung his hands in his lap; missing the confused look Ginny gave him as she eyed his hands. All she did was blink, her doll eyes glassy yet beautiful even though they were blood-shot from all the sleep she had lost. "What spell, princess?" He asked again, taking her arm in his grasp, his fingernails leaving small marks along her arms. If her eyes had been wide before, you could now see all the white around her irises as she stared at the marks growing darker and darker in color. "What was the fucking spell, Virginia!"

Shivering from the flaming roots of her hair to the soles of her worn-out hand-me-down shoes, Ginny tried to pry his hand off of her, looking at anything but his mossy green eyes. She did not need another bruise from him. "What spell?" he questioned again, his breathing uneven as he tried to calm himself; the grip on her was relaxing. Ginny began rubbing out the marks on her arm, but Tom, his eyes wide open, caught both her hands and pulled them to him. "Don't do that."

Defiantly staring up at him, Ginny held her gaze for a moment before lowering her head and spitting on the floor, right under the shadow of Tom's dangling feet. His eyebrow rose curiously, but still he held her hands, taking in some of their warmth gratefully until she tried to claw his face with her nails. With a hiss, he let her go and spitefully wiped away the blood from his cheek. Using her nails this time, Ginny tried to cut open her own flesh over his mark and something on her skin that Tom couldn't see. Angrily, he grabbed her hands again, making her glance at him. "I said, don't do that. Stop hurting yourself!"

"Oh, like you've never hurt yourself?" Ginny sarcastically whispered to him, trusting her voice to crack if she raised it. His eyes flickered to his own arms, and with a sigh, he let go of her arms to pull up his robes. On his arms, bare from his Slytherin robes, there were scars. Silver scars. Red scars. Brown scars. Faded scars. For a second, Ginny just traced some of the prominent ones. At the indifference in his eyes, Ginny lowered her head to his arms and did something she had learned as a child that would heal wounds. She kissed each scar she saw lightly- innocently- and when she finished, her smile glowed again. He sneered to himself at her naïvety but at the same time, he wanted to caress this child that was there, watching him with doe eyes.

That's what she is, Tom. A child. An innocent baby that you stole from her cradle, making her face the world. She'll never feel for you! Tom swatted away these thoughts. I do not feel for her! He argued to himself. Love is a weakness! I just want to use her to get a body of my own! I just want her to… I mean, it wouldn't hurt if she loved me. Idiot! Leave her! Don't take a second glance back. Kill her and go get Potter. Kill her, Tom. You knew didn't you? Tom thought after a moment of consideration. You knew I would feel and sent her as a challenge. You can't make me love her! But… if she loved me… we could use that to our advantage. We could use that trust and get her to kill Potter for us. She doesn't have to die… Yes she does, Tom! She's your bloody weakness! She has to die! No, she doesn't. Oh dear lord, old chap… You have just become schizophrenic! Tom yelled at himself, his hand beating against his forehead.

Ginny almost laughed as she saw his head being knocked toward to one side or another with each thought that popped into his head. Shaking the stray thoughts out of his head, Tom was reminded of what had started all of this when he saw Ginny laughing like a five-year-old. The spell. "Princess?" Tom asked, taking a tuft of hair and pushing it behind her ear. Still chuckling every now-and-then, she looked up at him, all the laughter still evident in the way her eyes danced. Her lips were parted slightly, revealing perfect teeth. She was a little princess. His princess. Realizing he couldn't hurt her like this made him clench his hands into fists.

"Tell me a story, Tom," she asked, laying her head on his lap and looking up at him. He gulped, hoping his shock did not show on his face. She wanted a story? He used to tell her stories when nightmares came. Now her life was a nightmare, and she wanted a story from him again. She needed a story to lull her to sleep. Well, he supposed he had promised her one…

"A story?" Rubbing her eyes, she nodded. "Well… all right then. Once upon a time," he began, "a king and queen wished and wished for a child. At last their wish was granted; a princess was born. To celebrate this joyous occasion, the king and queen decided to throw a great party, and sent out invitations to all corners of the land. The queen even asked the three fairies whom resided in the Enchanted Wood to attend; this proved to be a grave error, as the queen had forgotten about the mountain fairy, a jealous creature prone to anger…" Her breathing was even by this part, and Tom knew she must have fallen asleep in his arms. Uncomfortable at how to deal with this angel, completely at his mercy, he just continued in his recitation of the classic Muggle fairytale he had heard narrated in sweet whispers to distraught orphans.

By the end of the story, Ginny was cuddling tight against Tom's chest, her hair falling daintily over her face. The light made the Weasley hair seem blood red, running down her face like an omen. Shaking the thought out of him, Tom was surprised to find that he was saddened to see Ginny's eyes opened, watching him through the web of her hair. Not quite awake yet, she tried to blink the sleep out of her. Tom moved her weight closer to him and moved away all of her hair to gaze upon her face. "Five more minutes, Mommy…" Laughing slightly, Tom nodded, watching Ginny's eyes flutter as she tried to stay awake.

"Go back to sleep, princess. I'm sorry to have woken you." Ginny smiled before snuggling against him. The cold in the room made her breath show in crystallite clouds and Tom carefully laid her on the bed, pulling the covers over her. He would just have to wait until she awoke again after a night of restlessness to ask his question.

Her dreams were different this time, and when she awoke, a smile was on her face. For the first time that month, her dreams did not have snakes in them, or monsters, or even that evil Tom. No. Her dreams that night were filled with fairies and dancing. She had been a princess, wearing beautiful gowns and all, but that evil fairy had made her sleep for a long time before Harry came on his horse and kissed her back to life. At least she thought it was Harry? She had awoken as she received the kiss. All she saw of her rescuer was his head, silhouetted by the light on the ceiling. She could clearly see his green eyes and black hair. Oh, she just knew Harry would save her!

Tom was fitfully sleeping on one of the chairs by Ginny's bed. Cocking her head to the side, she watched him momentarily, knowing he had been guarding her while she slept. Careful to be quiet, Ginny slipped out of the covers and let her feet fall to the ground without a sound. Slipping past Tom without waking him was another story altogether. But she managed it, and headed for the door before looking down when she felt the chill. Her school clothes were gone and she was wearing a petite white nightgown that flowed when she walked. Her eyes flickering to Tom's restless body, Ginny was unnerved. Had he undressed her while she slept? Had he done anything else to her?

Tossing in his sleep under the careful watch of Ginny, Tom snapped his eyes open and for one moment seemed perplexed at where he was. Then he saw Ginny watching him. "Princess…" he started, rubbing his eyes before sitting up, moaning slightly as his back cracked. There was a scrunchie around her wrist, and Ginny whimpered to herself as she realized someone had put her hair into pigtail braids while she slept. But she hadn't written anything on the wall. The dream couldn't come true. Could it?

His lips curved into a smile as he eyed her body through the near-transparent nightgown. Blushing, Ginny tried to cover as much of her body with her hands as she could. "Can I have my clothes back, Tom… please?" His eyes were traveling up and down her body, and despite the persistence of her hands, they did not help to cover much from his gaze. "Please… stop looking at me."

"I for one did not take your clothes, princess. And I doubt that your parents would buy you such a… skimpy outfit to sleep in." Even with her scowl, Tom couldn't help but laugh. "It must be the bed. I mean, from what I hear… Slytherin was a big person in bed. He had himself two… sometimes three girls a night. Only half were willing, but…" His voice trailed off as her eyes widened at the mention of Slytherin's name. "Oh, bloody hell."

"So this is Slytherin's bed. And this is the Chamber of Secrets." Tom seemed annoyed at her constant talking, and he dug under the bed until he found a latch. When he pulled it, Ginny looked down to see that her clothes were back on her and the nightgown was nowhere in sight. Although, she wasn't so sure she'd be able to forget the… yearning look in his eyes when he first noticed the nightgown. Seeing she would not get an answer, Ginny shuffled her feet, embarrassed.

"Let's talk about something else, shall we?" His voice was still amused, but Ginny ignored it as she dejectedly nodded her head. "So, Gin, what spell did I use on you yesterday?" Tom was harsh with his words, but he had waited hours to find out, and she wouldn't distract him this time. "Tell me." He reached out for her arm, but with her eyes wide, she yelped out her answer.

"Cruciatus."

All was silent as Tom watched Ginny breathe in and out, refusing to believe what she had just said. Her eyes kept darting to the corner of the socket to see what he would do and then back to her flexing fingers before repeating the cycle. An intake of breath from her launched him into his current state of shock.

"I-" Tom sputtered, unable for the first time in his life to speak coherently. "I…" Sniffing in a great deal of air, he closed his eyes and finished his sentence. "I couldn't have done that, Gin." His head was shaking and out of his mouth came a laugh too nervously given to be natural. "Why do you have to lie to me?" His fingers were clenching and unclenching in a pattern as he stood and walked through the open door to climb up his ancestor's statue. Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously, taking a leaf out of Tom's book as she stalked after him, yelling up to his perch from the ground.

"Oh! Why do I have to lie to you? You can't even truthfully tell me whether its Saturday or not!" Tom froze, glaring back at the fiery young girl. Such an outburst, while once common and frequent with the youngest Weasley, was now seen very sporadically. Her nature was becoming more timid and untrusting, and Tom could see that when she was not fighting the control over her mind, she was basically just a body for others to inhabit and nothing more. Right on time too…

He smirked. "Well, well, well. Is my old Ginny back to haunt me?" Ginny lowered her eyes and gave the silver ring on her left ring finger a twirl. Following her gaze, an odd smile came upon Tom's face. "Wherever did you get such a gorgeous ring, princess?" She pulled off the silver band and inspected it. Having not given it any former thought, as her attention had been on more important things, she never really saw the rose on it.

The silver shined and glinted off what light it could gather in the Chamber. On the plain, average band, was a silver rose bloom engraved in black at the edges. Just the edges alone, but it made a great contrast against her pale finger.

"It was… on my hand in the Hospital Wing after Halloween… and," Ginny squeezed her hand, trying to remember where else she had seen it. It was like the memory was right at the edge of her awareness, but the more she reached for it, the further away it receded. Soon the memory would slip through her fingers like running water. Water… "And it was there when I tried to get the red paint off my hands. I don't remember where it came from." An evil grin wormed its way onto Tom's face in place of his smile.

"Well, now that's interesting." He took a section of her hair and began to twirl it until it bounced into a curl from his finger. "Such a pretty little thing." Ginny wasn't sure if he was talking about her or the ring. "Let's not lose that." The flash in his eyes when he gave her an innocent smile- the one that, a month ago, would have melted her on the spot- surprisingly gave her chills.

Shaking her hair until it slipped from his fingers, Ginny moved his hands off of her shoulders before one latched onto her right arm. Wanting to get away, she tried to pull her arm from his hold and ended up skittering across the puddles on the floor, spiraling headfirst into the freezing water.

Splashing around and gasping for air, Ginny managed to pull herself up onto the dry floor and she lay there face up, her eyes closed, shivering in cold- or was it anticipation? Fighting laughter, Tom covered his mouth with his hand, hiding his smile from her sight.

But she had already seen it, and she could not be angrier.

Glaring at the laughing Tom Marvolo Riddle, she pushed herself into an upright position, and with just a teeny bit of help from a snake statue, she stood defiantly in front of Tom. All he did was brush his icy fingers across her cheek, straying a little at her gash, and then winked before letting the laughter fill his mouth.

Ginny stepped backwards in a moment of fright before regaining her composure and smiling in the place of screaming for help. No one would ever hear her screams for help no matter how loud she was, so she might as well save her energy to stop her dream from happening. She had unconsciously splashed some water at Tom, and it made his hair dangle annoyingly before his eyes. Tom tossed his locks out of his face and stared straight into her eyes with a glowing passion. The intensity behind those shining green orbs startled her.

"Tom…."

"Yes, my princess. My little Sleeping Beauty." Why did he have to go and comment on her beauty? Virginia knew that she was plain, and she accepted it as a part of life. She was grateful for her fiery hair to give her some form of loveliness, but it was always hidden in hairstyles that would show no one the color. Now that she was at Hogwarts, she didn't care much for standing out.

But every time Tom went and called her beautiful, she felt so embarrassed and like such a fraud for letting him lie to her like that. She was taught that lies were horrible, and he lied to her almost every day, mainly for her own conscience. And she let him. When she first met him, she had stolen some of her mum's makeup and put it on, just to feel more sophisticated when he talked to her. She mentioned the eye shadow and lipstick she was wearing and he had told her to take it off; that she didn't need it. Tom was kind in this manner.

"Tom… I have to go. I'm… late. Yes, that's right. I'm late for mass. I go every Sunday." Tom drew up to his full height, towering over her. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, stumbling as she backed away. She only stopped when the distance between them was enough so that she could turn her back to him and run with the speed of a wind fairy.

"Ginny!" she heard Tom call from where he stood. He wouldn't come after her. As soon as she left the Chamber, she'd be back in her own world, and he was too weak to follow. "Gin! Don't cry, princess." Her legs protested, burning angrily, but she was so near the exit. Only five more steps. Four more. Three. Two. As she slipped around the corner and out of sight, she covered her mouth to stifle a sob so he would not hear her. She fell against the wall, her legs too weak to support her weight. The reason she cried was because she had heard his last pleading cry as she rounded the corner. "Virginia!"

Making her way up to the dormitory, Ginny trudged along, dragging her feet behind her. Light was filtering oddly from the many windows and she half-heartedly eyed the oncoming sunset. Sunrise to sunset, she had been in that Chamber, missing the glorious day and coming out only to dance about in the shadows. Mass was soon. Every Sunday, the church in Hogsmeade held a huge Sunday night mass for all the townsfolk and their children. Besides being the only fully wizard-inhabited town in the United Kingdom, Hogsmeade was also the only town in the United Kingdom that was still fully catholic.

Hogsmeade took great pride in their beautiful cathedral. Witches and wizards of all ages and backgrounds would come to ogle at its splendor. People who came on a regular basis were scarce and mainly consisted of Ultra-orthodox families and teachers from Hogwarts.

Ginny was raised within one of these families and at her mother's coaxing and her own intuition, she had begged for permission to go to Sunday night mass every week. Professor McGonagall approved of this and supervised her personally, as she always went to mass herself.

Years ago, all they had in the town for religious purposes was the cathedral. But for the spiritual benefit of the students and to persuade them to have religion away from their families, the town had added many new Protestant churches and even one small synagogue. Her brothers would accompany her grudgingly on special occasions and when their mother heard of what they really did in Hogsmeade during the time when they were supposed to go to church. But generally, they spent the entire time at Zonko's joke shop and Honeydukes.

Weasley boys were different from Weasley girls. Weasley girls were raised from a young age to have their religion enforced upon them. Whereas… Weasley boys spent every Sunday fishing or whatever their father felt like doing. And because of that, all of Ginny's brothers except Percy and Charlie, who would bring her to church when she was little, did not even believe there was a God.

Ginny, however, went like a good child should every week in the new clothes that her mum would sew especially for her. It was all she had as a link to a world she had never truly explored. A world outside the Burrow…

The bells from Saint Sebastian's, the cathedral in Hogsmeade, began to ring, startling Ginny back to reality. They rang a powerful, enchanting melody, bidding and hypnotizing the entire town to come. "Miss Weasley, are you coming?" Professor McGonagall's rough voice came from the doorway to Gryffindor Tower, where she stood wearing a conservative purple dress robe with a collar that made her look like a vicar.

Surprisingly, all of her brothers were standing beside the upright woman and a few obscure other teachers, looking eagerly at the money they had 'hidden' in their pockets for later. Ginny lowered her eyes to see what condition her clothes were in, but deemed them appropriate and took Ron's hand to walk down the stairs. No one else seemed to be coming. No one besides them ever came.

Ginny's POV: Reverend Lawrence had us all standing, heads bowed to look at the Bibles open in our hands. No one but the professor was really speaking the words, but the rest, looking around in boredom and were mouthing along half-heartedly.

"And Jephthah vowed a vow unto the Lord, and said, 'If thou shalt without fail deliver the children of Ammon into mine hands, Then it shall be, that whatsoever cometh forth of the doors of my house to meet me, when I return… I will offer it up for a burnt offering.'"

At the front of the church there was a stained-glass window of an angel with black hair and green eyes. There was a large chip of glass missing from one of the angel's eyes, leaving only shards of jade like a gaping wound. I stared at the hole and said nothing, following everyone else's example and mouthing along to my Bible verse, listening as the rhythmic words swirled around me.

"…and the Lord delivered them into his hands…"

Professor McGonagall turned slightly to look at me awkwardly. Normally I participated eagerly, drowning out the words of those around me. She must have thought something was wrong.

"And Jephthah came… unto his house, and behold, his daughter came out to meet him… and she was his only child…"

If I stared too hard, the hole grew and the angel disappeared into the darkness. But if I accidentally blinked, I saw the angel once again, not the hole, and I had to start all over again.

"…when he saw her… he rent his clothes and said, 'Alas, my daughter! Thou hast brought me very low… for I have opened my mouth unto the Lord, and I cannot go back…"

I tried to close my book then and walk out to go find my brothers, but the professor turned to inspect me from her position, still praying. Hurriedly, I buried my face in my Bible and read along with renewed fervor.

"… And she said unto her father, 'Let this be done for me: let me alone two months, that I may go up and down upon the mountains and bewail my virginity…'"

Some girls in the back row started to snicker at this. Following their escaped laughter was a loud chorus of shushing from teachers from the school along with some parents and citizens of the town.

"… And he sent her away… and she went with her companions… upon the mountains."

Reverend Lawrence closed his Bible. "Thus sayeth the Lord. Let us pray."

There was a wave of shuffling and thumping as everyone sat and made to pass their Bibles down to the end of their corresponding row. McGonagall was still praying silently and I held my frayed book in front of her. With her eyes closed in prayer, she did not see me.

Wanting nothing more than to leave this place where a brilliantly lit crucifix looked down on me, judging my every move, I let go, letting the Bible crash onto her unsuspecting lap. Freed from the weight, I ignored her glaring and went back to staring at the angel. I stared so long and hard that the angel seemed to move. It was the dark coming in, I guess, making everything hazy. But for just a moment, I swear that I saw the angel's wings fluttering and the hands tighten on the ruby-encrusted sword. The sword, wanting to be noticed, cleaved through the snake on the ground quick as a scythe. I looked away and it's all gone. A trick of the light…

I saw, too, for a few moments, my vision fall upon the seven tall candles upon the table. At first they wore the aspect of charity, and seemed white slender angels who would save me: but then, all at once, there came a most deadly nausea over my spirit, and I felt every fiber in my frame thrill, as if I had touched the crack in a broken wand, while the angel forms became meaningless specters, with heads of flame, and I saw that from them there would be no help.

And then, there stole into my feelings, like a rich musical note, the thought of what sweet rest there must be in the grave. The thought came gently and stealthily, and it seemed long before it attained my full attention; but just as my spirit came at length properly to feel and entertain it, the figures of the angels on the walls and everywhere else vanish, as if magically, from before me. The tall candles sank into nothingness; their flames went out utterly; the blackness of darkness supervened; all sensations appeared swallowed up in a mad rushing descent as of the soul into Hades. Then silence, and stillness, and night were the entire universe.

Ginny slumped into her chair just as the bell rang, echoing loudly in the prison that was the Potions classroom. Beside her, posing as her partner was the ever-happy Tirza who was too busy chattering away with Blaine and Nessa, a row behind them, to notice.

Blaine and Nessa quieted upon seeing Ginny. Nessa kept exchanging nervous glances with Blaine and the back of Ginny's head. Blaine, however, slammed her book shut and glared angrily at Ginny, notifying Tirza of who was there.

Snape stormed into the room, and noticing the tension between the four roommates, he switched Lesley and Ginny to avoid a confrontation. Curiously gazing at the exhausted Weasley, Tirza's smile made him try and forget that this was the innocent little girl who had called his unfortunate daughter a slut.

Tirza 'discreetly' switched with Blaine, who was watching Lesley with a silent horror, to talk with Ginny.

"Hey Ginny. Feeling better? I guess you are. How are you holding up?" Groggily lifting up her head, Ginny noticed Tirza smiling like some chipper, deranged Barbie ® doll. She wished her a thousand deaths. Opening her mouth to answer, Ginny bit her lip. Tirza had become distracted in a heated conversation between Nessa and the Slytherin twin. She hadn't even bothered to wait for the answer. Little Miss Snape was too good for a pathetic little Weasel like Ginny.

"Weasley!" Snape bellowed from his desk, causing her to jump. Blushing, Ginny closed her eyes from the laughing and giggling that resulted. Blaine looked smug, whereas Tirza and Nessa continued to converse with Lesley.

"Yes, Professor Snape?" Snape's eyes floated over to his daughter's section, but then he focused on Ginny.

"I do believe your assignment is clearly written on the board." A ruler by his desk was whapped onto the chalkboard, making Ginny jump once more. More laughter… "Get to work!" And her life was back to normal. Well, as normal as it was to be a Weasley.

An uncomfortable sensation started in the pocket of her robe. It was a prickling or a burning of sorts. Realizing what it was, and at the same time, her stupidity, Ginny emptied everything from her pockets until she could feel the leather diary. Like it was a prize, she laid it out carefully upon her potions textbook.

The Slytherin beside her, an Asian pureblood witch named Kim Van Tranh, gave Ginny the oddest look for practically idolizing this book, which, by the name engraved on it, wasn't even hers. But Ginny ignored her and kept her busy by adding all her fifty rat-skulls to the potion at the same time. Needless to say, nearly half the castle was blown up.

Tom was writing in his journal, something that Ginny should not have access to. Something he didn't want her to see… Something that he didn't want anyone, not even her, to know.

Ginny was disappointed when she saw that only three words were written.

It was Voldemort.

That was all she remembered…

"The time is approaching, Milord." The servant bowed ceremoniously before his master's throne in the darkness. A smile grew on the master's shadowed face as he observed the far-off silhouette of the looming castle out the window.

The servant joined him in staring at the dark figure in the distance. "And the girl?" the master asked, growling instead of talking with his voice only half-present. But the way he spoke- the happiness evident in his tone- sent chills of terror down his loyal servant's spine.

"Please, Milord. You must be rested in order to regain your strength; the girl is trivial compared to your well-being. Please allow us to nurse you back to health tonight." The master let out a cold laugh.

"But I am strong. With every breath that girl takes, I get stronger." He casually dropped a question to his servant. "The time is approaching, is it?" Uneasily, the servant nodded.

Turning away, the master made sure that no one in the room saw his evil smile, the smile that wizards everywhere would soon have nightmares about seeing.

"Excellent."

Happy late Valentine's, or commercialized lovers', day to all! Here is my present to all of you. Chapter 6! Read (well, if you are reading this, I think you read the chapter but I don't know how you readers work.) and review to your heart's desire. A big thanks to my new beta whom I have been searching for someone like for over a year and a half. I love you Rea! (Rea Yume is her penname on here and fictionalley) and a special thanks to kittybro for being the only reviewer last... er... note. And she made me feel special. You inspired me kittybro! And now, reviewer response time!

strawberry-heavens: You were my first reveiwer for the revised edition of my baby. Thank you so much. I tried not to fumble with details so much, as you put it, and thank you for the critisim because my beta said the same thing.

Blair A.: Thank you, and as you can plainly see, I am keeping it going.

smelly old men that shout: er... I've been meaning to mention your... interesting penname. I love how original it is. I did read your stories, don't know if I reviewed or not, but they were very nicely written. And I invented those puppy dog eyes.

your bff, right: Hey Leslie, I already clarified about the mix-up. Thanks for the compliment and I passed on the message. And I did 'hurry the hell up' as you put it.

Vanessa Nicole Sisseck: Thank you so much. I love you and I'll see you soon. P.S. Have I reviewed your fic yet?

Rhysenn Riddle: Well, thank you, I know. Here's more for you.

CPegasus: I try. I hated the first chapter though...

Just Kate:takes a bow: Thank you so much, I know there are mistakes, but I have been trying since my fic was first on this site in August 2003 to get a beta and I only just got one. Thanks again.

kittybro: I'm glad I caused an obsession. I have OCD so I'm always obsesed with things, you can ask anyone who knows me. I'm not too fond of Potter either. I'm a complete Riddle freak. I update as soon as a procrastinator like me can. And thanks again for being the only reviewer on my note.

Emmie-poo: Yeah, I know he's in hiding and thanks for the comment. Oh and P.S. why are you using my penname cookiedough?

Caity: I didn't mind you reading it, just not around me. Yes, we are still on my baby.

someone: Thanks. I'm trying to cut down my chapters though. Like, if it's more than fifteen typed pages now, I'm cutting it in half.

Riddled-Slytherin: I try to make an intricate web. Sorry, I had to use that phrase at least once this reviewer response time. I will.

halfdemon-kasumi: Thanks. Feel free to review as well.

Sienna: I'll be more cautious next time. Thankyou.

If you ask questions in your reiew, I will answer them. Loosely or specifically, it depends on the questions. But whether in email, AIM, AOL, or reviewer response time, I will answer all of your questions.

Disclaimer: I totally ripped off Phantom of the Opera for the whole ball thing, but I found it worked quite well with my fic. Parts of the church scene are taken from a book by Libba Bray. I don't know if they're real Bible verses or not, and if I messed up in the church scene, it's because I'm Jewish. Okay...

Bye y'all. See you soon, I hope. And I hope you all had a happy singles awareness day! I mean... er... Valentine's day.

Emma Riddle