A/N: I have no idea how it came to pass that I haven't updated since September, but there's life for you. I started and finished my first semester of college since then. My father trained and went to Iraq since then, and is coming back in a few months. Hopefully the next chapter will be out well before then!

Speaking of the next chapter, this one is really short, but it leaves off in the perfect place for the next chapter.

Thank you to all my readers and reviewers – you guys are amazing.

Hopefully this isn't too jarring. I think my writing style has changed a bit since…plus I'm really not paying much attention to the quality tonight. I just want to get this chapter uploaded. So it might suck, but whatever, it's here at last!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, and Mythology is by Edith Hamilton, the publisher is Warner Books.

Enjoy.

As Ginny slept, her candles continued to burn. Wax dripped down them, forming pools on her windowsill and dripping down the edge like a water droplet. The smoke from the candles curled high into the air, and the smell from the smoke, wax and the sweet smells of wine and roses and wildflowers filled her room. Hours after she'd fallen asleep, the flame on the blue candle began to grow as it ran out of wick, sparking bits of fire around it. One of the sparks touched the curtain, which caused a spark. That spark grew into a flame. The flame fed on the fabric and oxygen around it, slowly building until it was more then a single flame, but a bright fire that sent dangerous sparks around the room.

Smoke began to fill the small bedroom, and Shikoba woke, uneasy. It nudged it's sleeping mistress, but she didn't stir. She was deep asleep, lost in the kind of dreams that hold you down in them no matter how you try to escape. By the time she would wake, her bed could be aflame. The bird squawked, trying to wake her again to no avail.

From somewhere above Ginny, soft thunder sounded. The air above her bed began to swirl and then to form white clouds that turned to silver, grey and then nearly to black. Heavy raindrops fell from the clouds above her, putting out the fire and soaking everything but the books and the bed, including Shikoba and Ginny. The flames gone, the storm dispersed and the thunder rolled one last time. A bright flash of lightning and it was over.

While Ginny slept, she had pushed her blankets to the foot of her bed. Now her quilt seemed to float along the surface of the bed and around Ginny's body, protecting her from the now chilly air in her room. Ginny groaned, and then rolled from her left side to her right. Shikoba curled up beside her and fell back asleep.

Ginny woke the next morning, blinking from the sun streaming in through her window. Odd, she thought the curtains had been closed…she turned her head to glare at them, and sat up suddenly when she noticed that half of one was missing. Further examination showed the evidence of rain everywhere but her bed and bookshelf.

She threw the quilt off of her and leapt out of bed and then ran her hand over the ledge of her window, feeling it still slightly slick, like the floor beneath her bare feet. Her candles were almost completely – oh. Oh. She'd been so exhausted, she left the candles burning all night. They must have caught the curtain on fire. And then…what? Had she cast some sort of spell in her sleep?

You are not quite that powerful yet, dear Kore.

Ginny's eyed widened. For a little while, she'd almost forgotten all about him.

"Wait…" she mouthed the words more then said them. But that didn't matter; he clamed to hear her thoughts anyway. "Did you – did you st…?"

Start the fire? Or stop it?

"Start," she said, but immediately shook her head. "Stop. Both?"

Why would I both start and stop the fire?

"Stop, then," Ginny decided, staring blankly out her window and the wide open field that was filled with sunshine. "Did you put it out?"

Yes, I did.

"But…why?" she asked, genuinely confused as to why the Dark Lord would put out a fire in her bedroom, after all the rest he'd done to her. There was a long silence, and Ginny reached up to touch the bottom of what was left of her curtain. The blackened edge of the curtain fell into her hand and turned to ash.

The voice of Tom Riddle did not answer. She sighed, rolled her eyes. He had been lying. He must have started the fire. Voldemort would never –

Lord Voldemort is dead.

"Would you stop saying that!" she exclaimed, bringing a fist down on the ledge.

"Stop saying what?" came a confused voice behind her. Ginny whirled around to face Ron.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Um, I just keep thinking about a fight I had with – with Percy. What is it?"

Ron shrugged. "Harry, Hermione and I are headed to the Ministry today for another interview about what happened. D'you want to go? We could all meet up afterward, maybe go to Diagon Alley."

She desperately wanted to say yes. She hadn't been out in ages, and to see Harry would be wonderful. But as she opened her mouth the reply, a chill overtook her. She'd seen Tom Riddle's outline in her mirror out of the corner of her eye. She turned to look as her mirror, and instead of the image disappearing as it always did, it solidified. For a brief second, she looked directly into Tom's eyes. He winked, and disappeared.

She must have turned white, because Ron's eyes narrowed and lines appeared between his brows. "Gin? You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she forced out, but it wasn't very convincing. This was getting worse. Soon she wouldn't be able to go out at all…maybe she couldn't already. "I think I'll skip this one. I'm not feeling very well."

Ron nodded. "Okay. See you later." He turned, but then paused and turned back, staring at her floor. "Hey, Gin, why's your floor all wet?"

Ginny swallowed. "I was um…mopping. You know, the muggle way."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"It helps me think," she responded quickly. "You better go and meet Harry and Hermione."

Ron just nodded, and closed the door behind him. She listened to his foot steps as he walked away, and once he was down the stairs she turned to face the mirror.

"Why do you keep doing this to me?" she demanded. "Why are you trying to isolate me, to drive me crazy?"

You know that already, Kore.

"Stop calling me by everything but my real name!"

I've called you your name before, Ginevra.

"That's not the point," she said, practically growling. She walked to the dresser and planted her hands atop it, staring into the mirror as though staring into Tom Riddle's face. "Why do you keep talking in code, Tom? Why don't you talk to me straight?"

No response. How irritating.

"Fine, I'll go figure out your little code," she spat, turning around and heading out the door. "And then I'll figure out how to get rid of you once and for all."

Finally, after four hours searching the library, she found it.

It was inside an old, worn copy of a book called Edith Hamilton's Mythology. At first the only thing she'd found was 'Kora', but after talking to a librarian she discovered that 'Kore' was another name used for the same person (and that 'kore' meant 'young maiden').

The reference for 'Kora' in the book led to 'Persephone', another name Tom talked about often. First she read the story of Persephone from the point of view of her mother, Demeter. This was not terribly interesting, but it gave the basics. Persephone had been a young goddess, who was out playing in the fields when she was kidnapped suddenly by the Lord of the Underworld, Hades. She was forced into marriage with him, and when the King of the Gods, Zeus, ordered Hades to return her, he tricked her into eating a seed of a pomegranate. She was then condemned to living in the Underworld for four months of every year, since the food grown in the Underworld was cursed. So she spent part of her life with her mother at Olympus, and part trapped in the Underworld with her husband.

The only part that reminded her at all of Tom was the part where Persephone was sometimes referred to as 'the maiden whose name may not be spoken'. But Tom seemed to find other things he liked, repeating them in her head after she'd read the passage.

" Her husband knew he must obey the word of Zeus and send her up to earth away from him, but prayed her as she left him to have kind thoughts of him and not be so sorrowful that she was the wife of one who was great among the immortals.'" He quoted after she'd flipped back to the index, searching for more about Persephone.

She didn't even attempt to understand. She knew that if she told him toe stop speaking in code, he would stop speaking to her altogether. Which would be nice if it was permanent, but he would reappear at some inopportune time. It was better to keep him talking and try to find some clue about how to get rid of him.

Admit that the reason you refuse to think on my comments it because you are afraid.

"Afraid of what?" she whispered back bitterly, glancing around to be sure no one could overhear her.

Afraid of their meaning. Afraid of what it means for me to speak them.

"Like what?" she said, but still, at the edge of her mind she remembered the two quotes she had read the night before. But she refused to pay attention to them, to give them any weight. They were just words, words that were meaningless to someone as heartless as he was.

Lord Voldemort was heartless.

"Lord Voldemort is dead," she whispered, knowing it was coming. "You are dead."

I am not ghost, nor Inferi, nor a portrait. How am I speaking to you if I am dead?

"I don't know," Ginny admitted, slamming her book closed. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

Maybe you should ask Hades.

Ginny rolled her eyes, deciding she was finished with pointless discussions with dead dark wizards inside her head. Besides, Shikoba would be hungry by now. It was time she went back home.

Artificial: I really hope you guys come back for this chapter. I'll kick myself if you don't!