A/N: Well, this chapter might betray how long it's been since I've read the books, but hopefully it's all relatively canon and doesn't break continuity.

Thank you for all the lovely reviews, they really make my day and some have made it into my positive thinking journal! I hope you can review this chapter, too, though it's short and there's not much to comment on, haha.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all save for Lancelot and Elaine, which is by Tennyson.

Enjoy!

Do you really think that I will ever let you go

Do you think I'll ever set you free?

If you do, I'm sad to say, it simply isn't so

You will never get away from me.

- Jekyll and Hyde, Leslie Bricusse

"Who was that?" Harry shouted, but Ginny heard the note of panic in his voice that told her he knew exactly who it was.

Ginny's lips trembled before she spoke. "H...Harry..." she began weakly, then she forced more strength into her voice. "It's Voldemort."

"Ah-ah," chided Tom gently, raising a finger and shaking it back and forth as a way to say 'no, you're wrong'. "Lord Voldemort is dead, remember, precious Ginny? I am not the Dark Lord Voldemort."

"Then who are you?" Ginny whispered as she attempted to take a step back, but her shin hit the frame of the bed and she winced.

Tom smirked. "Tom Riddle, of course."

"But Tom Riddle is Voldemort."

"No," said Tom, shaking his head as he began to approach her. The smoke was clearing quickly, only wisps of it disappearing around his head. "Lord Voldemort is Tom Riddle, but Tom Riddle is not Lord Voldemort."

Ginny blinked, and took a step away from the bed to keep herself away from the voice that had tormented her all this time. "You're not making any sense."

"Not to you, perhaps, not yet. But you'll understand soon enough."

"I don't want to understand," Ginny insisted. Her numbed shock was fading away, being replaced by fear and anger at herself for being tricked like this. Of course the spell wouldn't just get rid of him. Of course he would know another way to stay alive. That was what he'd wanted most of all – to stay alive. "I don't want to understand any of it. You're supposed to leave me alone!"

"Now, whenever did I agree to that?" Tom laughed, his eyes narrowing to slits. "I said you would be rid of me – in your head."

With a gasp, Ginny spun around to look for Harry. He was standing, watching in confusion from the other side of the room. But now he seemed to realize that he had to act – and fast. But without his glasses, he stumbled forward clumsily.

"Leave her alone, Riddle! I don't know how you did this, but I – but-" Harry stammered as he ran into a bed.

Tom Riddle laughed. "Yes, very good Potter, will do." It was strange, hearing Tom laughing almost casually as though Harry and he were two schoolmates playfully teasing each other. But Ginny could see the murderous glint in Tom's dark eyes.

"Harry - stay back!" she said, looking from Tom to Harry.

Harry shook his head. "No, Ginny. He's used you to somehow come back. And now I'm going to kill him again."

Ginny heard Tom move closer to her. "With what wand, Potter? And how, without even being able to see me clearly?" He was amused.

Harry ignored Tom. "Ginny, run and get help!"

"No, don't, Ginny dearest," said Tom. She turned to discovered he was standing close to her, so close that she could feel his breath like a breeze over the top of her head. "We have important calls to make."

Ginny's eyes widened and she tried to step back, but Tom grabbed her arm, and in that instant she knew what he was about to do.

Harry seemed to realize it, as well. "Gin, get away from him, quickly!"

"Harry, I-"

And the world swirled together, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. A moment later, she was somewhere else.

She didn't recognize it at first, except that it was some sort of fancy entryway. It had been redecorated since she last saw it, with dark greys and silver and emerald green instead of the scarlet, cream and gold she'd grown used to. The comfortable, homey furniture was replaced by wood-framed, ornate pieces, a little more in the Louis-Philippe style. The windows were covered by large, dark draperies and the room was lit by cold, extravagant brass and crystal chandeliers rather than the faux oil lamps that had lit the rooms with warmth.

Even the smell was different. Before, it had smelled of fresh linen and wood polish and cinnamon; now it smelled of leather and fauna and burning sandalwood.

Ginny's eyes grew wide when she recognized the place. It was the cottage in Godric's Hollow...the place where James and Lily had been murdered by Lord Voldemort.

Immediately after the war, Harry had come back to this place. It couldn't be rebuilt properly due to the dark magic that had torn through it, but he built walls over the holes, cleaned it up, put in a proper garden and the sort of furniture he'd thought his parents would've liked. He had no intention to live there, but he couldn't leave his parents' memorial in such a wreck. It was a nice place they visited together sometimes. But it had all changed now. How could it have all changed?

Spinning around, she saw Tom standing behind her, leaning against the wall and smirking. Her eyes narrowed at him and she reached for her wand, but realized with horror that it was still at St. Mungo's. Desperate, Ginny decided to do the next best thing – lunge at him. She began beating his chest with her sore, bleeding fists, and winced when the deep fingernail marks on her arms stung from the effort.

Tom's laughter should have slowed her, should have told her that what she did to him didn't hurt him in the slightest. But still, she hit him with what strength she had left. After some time, he put his hands on her aching shoulders and shoved her away, with such force that her protruding hip bone hit the table behind her and she winced.

"Why?" she cried out, her fiery gaze resting on Tom's white forehead. She was unable to look him in the eye. "Why would you do this? Why am I here, why have you taken me here, why didn't you just leave me alone?" What had begun as a choked whisper changed to a harsh, throaty scream.

Calmly, Tom slid his hands in his pockets – it just now registered to Ginny that he was wearing what he might have at the orphanage, a pair of nice but casual black trousers and a button-down off-white shirt, a grey wool jacket and a brown newsboy cap that barely sat over his dark hair.

"Do you remember the story of Sir Lancelot and Lady Elaine I told you?"

Ginny blinked, and then nodded. Yes, she vaguely remembered him telling it to her while she ran from home just after nearly killing Harry. She hadn't paid very close attention, feeling panicked and angry and a little bit doomed.

"The Lily-maid Elaine loved Sir Lancelot, but at first she did not know he was Lancelot," said Tom, moving closer to Ginny. Ginny backed away, and he instead moved around the table, heading through a low archway that led to the sitting room. Ginny followed hesitantly. "She didn't discover this fact until after another knight came and told her. This knight – Gawain was his name – wanted Elaine, but when she spoke of loving Lancelot wanted to know if his pursuit of her was in vain. Do you know what she said?"

"You know I don't," breathed Ginny, watching him casually take a seat on a dark green leather settee that hadn't been in this house a few months before.

He crossed his extraordinarily long legs. "'I know not if I know what true love is. But if I know, then, if I love not him, I know there is none other I can love.'" Tom finished the quote with a contented sigh, like someone who'd had a taste of the finest wine. "That is why."

"Stop it!" screamed Ginny, her hands closing into fists despite the dull pain of doing so. "Stop speaking in bloody riddles, I've had enough of it! You're not a voice in my head anymore, you're an actual person now, so speak like a real person damn it!"

Tom sat in silence for a moment, his head slightly cocked as though he considered Ginny's anger amusing.

"Very well then," said Tom, and she could hear laughter in his tone, "What she is saying there is that she doesn't know what love is, but regardless there is no one else she could love."

Ginny clenched her jaw, trying not to yell at him again, hoping he would get to the point. "And?"

Tom's narcissistic smirk faltered for only a moment. "And, that quote applies to how I feel about you."

Ginny felt dizzy. Not just dizzy, but sick and wounded like someone had just hit her over the head. Little white spots appeared in her vision. She couldn't deal with this, she couldn't she refused to.

She opened her mouth to change the subject to the first thing that came to her mind, but closed it a second later. The first thing she thought of was to ask him what he intended to do now – not just with her, but with the world. He had life again, and magic too. What was he going to do with it? Was he going to return to his old ways? Form a new army of Death Eaters and once again bring misery to the Wiarding and Muggle worlds alike?

But she was too afraid to ask these questions. If he did choose to kill and torture people again, to tear apart even more families...it would be her fault entirely. Her fault for being so selfish as to be willing to do anything to get him out of her head.

And look where that got her. She still didn't have her freedom, not really.

"Why have you brought me here?" she demanded, moving forward a few steps until she stood in front of the wood-and-glass coffee table. "Why are we at the Potters' memorial cottage?"

Tom stood slowly, his eyes locked on her and finally Ginny had to look him in the eye – though his were dark and looked almost as though he were drunk on power. "This is the last place the remaining Potter will look for us, isn't it? Do you really think he'll expect me to go to the place of Lord Voldemort's first great downfall?"

Again, he was referencing Lord Voldemort as if they weren't one and the same. But there were more important things to comment on. "So...you are kidnapping me? Even now that you have your own body and don't need me anymore, you won't leave me alone?"

Tom smiled, and she could see how he'd managed to charm his professors and classmates so easily all those years ago. "What I told you before is still true, Ginevra – I'll never leave you alone."

Artificial: I hope you'll forgive the shortness, but it's the best place for me to end this chapter. Oh and - if you have any suggestions for a cover, I'd love to hear them. I need the rights to the image, so some sort of stock image idea would be great. xD Thanks! I hope you liked the chapter, and please review! Have a great day/night!