A/N: Not much to say here, except that I changed the title of the last chapter (didn't seem to match to mood of the rest of my titles).

Enjoy this chapter!

"Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasely a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…"

Tom Riddle, Chamber of Secrets

Three days later, Harry sat in the kitchen of the Burrow, pushing a slice of banana around his oatmeal with a spoon. His attention was focused outside, where Ginny flew in small circles on her broom. Mrs. Weasely had decided to let her out into the yard but no further. For the last three days Ginny had been making those little circles…from sunrise to sundown, barely taking the time to eat or bathe. For the last three days she'd worn a pair of pajama pants that Hermione had given her two years ago, a black pair with little white and pink clouds on them. She wore the muggle tshirts Luna gave her that had been decorated to keep some mythical magical creature or other away.

It was obvious Ginny was depressed. Not taking care of herself made it very clear. But the constant circles were just…a little…

Crazy.

And nothing Harry did could help. He'd gotten on his broom and followed her, offered a game of Quidditch, tried talking to her…nothing. She barely even looked at him.

What was going on? What was wrong with Ginny? Maybe the shock of Fred's death was just hitting her…or how dysfunctional her family suddenly was…maybe he should take her on vacation.

"The Chamber of Secrets…" he muttered to himself before taking a bite of the cold oatmeal. That was another mystery. Why the sudden interest in what had happened all those years ago? And who was it she muttered to in her room late at night?

What if she was crazy? What would they do?

Harry set down his spoon. This was all too confusing. It was time he talked to someone about his concerns – he needed help.

She knew she was a mess.

Tom Riddle's soul is inside me…

Her hair was in tangled knots, her skin was paler than ever. She barely ate or bathed or did anything at all. All she could do was sit on her broom and spin those circles in the frigid air, again and again and again. She couldn't even think right.

Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me…

She had never gotten a confirmation from him, but his silence was confirmation enough. He hadn't spoken since those words – 'You can't be rid of me, Ginny darling'.

It was all connecting now.

Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me…

When she'd written in the diary, she was pouring her soul into him. When he'd shared his secrets with her, he'd poured some of his soul into her. When Lord Voldemort died, part of him was still alive. They hadn't killed the part of him trapped inside her.

Tom Riddle's soul is inside me…

If it was just part of his soul from the diary, then technically he wouldn't know everything Lord Voldemort knew. But he did somehow. That was the confusing part. But she didn't have the energy or desire to ask, to understand exactly how much of Lord Voldemort lived inside her.

Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me…

Part of her had a theory. That when Voldemort's body died, all his soul gathered to the one living body his soul was still contained in. And he sounded like Tom because his soul reverted to what it was before he tore it to pieces. But then, the point in time he'd possessed her – his sixteen-year-old self – he'd already murdered somebody.

Tom Riddle's soul is inside me…

It was a magic she didn't understand.

Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me…

After she'd talked to Harry, she had gone and taken a bath in the hottest water she could stand. She scrubbed her skin raw, burned it with the water but still felt filthy. She tried steam to sweat out her toxins, meditated, bathed herself in perfume, vomited, tried to create new spells, prayed, everything she could think of to force Tom out. Nothing worked. When she'd found herself standing over the bathroom sink with a knife in her hand ready to bleed him out, she knew she had to give up. She set the knife down and begged her mother to let her out of the house.

And then the circles began.

Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me…

She couldn't stop them. Maybe part of her thought the cold would freeze him out, the repetition would bore him and somehow he'd leave. But she still felt him with her. He was always there, speaking or not.

The circles kept her busy, at least.

Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside me, Tom Riddle's soul is inside –

"Hey, Gin," came a voice below her. It wasn't Harry's voice, which she heard dimly from time to time. It was George.

"George," she breathed, looking down at him, following him with her eyes as she continued to circle. George held his broom in his hand.

"Care for some Chaser practice?"

Ginny slowly closed her eyes as she continued to spin. She needed to do something new. And George needed this.

"Sure," she said, finally going down to the ground. "One on one?"

The sound of glass breaking from somewhere inside the house. Ginny panicked until George shook his head.

"Ron and Percy's fights are escalating," he explained. "I don't think they'll be joining us."

"Harry?"

"Left a bit ago, didn't say where." George shrugged.

Ginny pursed her lips into a thin line, and then nodded. It had once been her dream to be a professional Quidditch player. She still longed for it.

"Let's play."

George and Ginny set up rings on either side of the yard, and began to practice. They played for hours and the sun shone brightly as it moved across the sky, finally beginning to sink to the other side of the sky. It was hard to practice…George didn't go easy on her. But it was fun, enough to shake her from her conscious coma. She had just began to smile when a sudden, intense headache formed in the front of her head.

"No!" she cried, landing and then gripping her head with one hand "No!"

"What is it?" asked George, landing across from her.

It was one of those headaches, the kind caused by him. He had been quiet all this time and this is how he decided to return?

He couldn't even let her smile! He wouldn't let her be happy or even just sane. She wasn't allowed to spend time with George or Harry or anyone!

Ginny threw her broom to the ground in frustration.

"Do you want me to spend the rest of my life alone? Is that what you want?" she screamed down at it.

The headache stopped, and everything seemed suddenly quiet as Ginny realized what had just happened. She looked up wide eyes, pale and shaking. George stood perfectly still, staring back at her, his mouth slightly open.

You can never be alone, Ginny.

"I…I-I was just-" stammered Ginny, but there was no explanation this time. Instead, she turned and ran into the house.

Ginny sat on her bed, bent over with her head between her knees. Her door was locked and she'd moved her dresser in front of it.

"Now even George will think I'm crazy," she muttered, fighting tears back. "You just want me alone, don't you? You want my family and friends to leave me so I'll always be alone."

You can never be alone, Ginny, Riddle repeated. I will always be here. I will never leave you alone.

"Shut up," muttered Ginny as she began to sob. "Please…please, just leave me! Let me be!"

I will never leave you.

"I can't live with you in my head…" she gasped between sobs. "Please…they'll lock me up…"

A low cry came from across the room. Ginny jumped to her feet and turned, and saw Shikoba sitting on the other side of her bed. He walked across the bed and softly pecked her waist, asking for attention. Since he had led her to the Death Eater's house, she'd tried to ignore him, but the bird kept coming back to her.

Perhaps he was just a bird, and not a Death Eater in disguise somehow. But how had it known where Hades lived? And how did it walk?

"You'll never answer those questions, will you?"

You do not need to know the answer.

"Yes, I do," insisted Ginny. "I need to know if I can trust Shikoba."

You wish to know; it is not the same as needing.

"Tell me!"

You must learn to trust yourself, Ginevra. Do you believe the bird to be evil?

Ginny held her breath for a moment and then knelt to the floor. She was now eye level with Shikoba, and the diver stared back at her. After a few seconds it gave a soft cry and moved forward a few steps.

"No," breathed Ginny, patting the bird on the head. "No, I don't."

She grabbed Shikoba off the bed and set him beside her. Then she took a pillow off the bed and laid down, exhausted. The practice had taken a lot out of her, a lot she didn't really have in her. Three days of doing nothing had been hard on her body.

"Goodnight, Shikoba," she mumbled as her eyes began to close.

From outside the room, George heard Ginny talking to herself. He had followed directly behind her but she didn't notice him calling for her. He stopped in the hall when he heard her dresser move. Now he stood with his ear against the door, his fist raised to knock as he had intended to before hearing Ginny's voice. Before she said such unusual things to herself…

There was a creaking noise behind him, and George turned to look.

"Harry," he whispered. "Do you know..."

Harry shook his head. "Something is wrong. We need to find out what's happening with her."

"'We'?" asked George.

"Yeah," sighed Harry, motioning for George to follow him. "'We'."

George followed Harry upstairs to Ron's room, where a group was gathered. They talked in whispers until late in the night, when the moon was shining brightly despite the heavy cloud cover.

Nothing was decided when the group went their separate ways. But they planned to meet again, to discuss again. A solution would have to be found.

Everyone crawled into their beds, the redhead girl on their minds. The redhead girl who talked to someone who wasn't there, flew in circles, seemed to have forgotten herself. The redhead girl who might have gone completely mad.

But soon they were all asleep, under a dark cloudy sky that threatened a storm.

It was the next day that the body was discovered.

Artificial: Please review!