A/N: Um, I suck. I should have updated by now. I didn't. I was in a musical and had to live at a friends house half the time, and I went to Las Vegas to see Phantom before it closed, but I totally had time. My laptops keyboard died but I had another one. I have a bunch of bad excuses. But I just suck. I'm sorry.

I'm even sorrier now that it's almost November and I'll be busy with NaNoWriMo, so there probably won't be another chapter until December. I'm disappointed because honestly, this is more of a place holder chapter and things get more fun next chapter, but…well, I'll try to get it out before the end of the month. We'll see.

This chapter feels…kind of soulless to me. Something is wrong with it but I don't have time to rewrite and figure it out. Maybe I'm just out of practice. I hope you'll forgive me.

All that said – please enjoy, and remember that reviews feed the muse!

Not long afterwards, she found herself sitting on a stool in the kitchen, staring blankly at a raindrop-splattered window. She sat still and quiet, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain and her own sharp intake of breath when her wounds caused her pain.

Tom stood nearby, using both magical and muggle means to heal the wounds her body had received during Tom's fight with Harry. He used a wand that had been concealed in the bread box to cast spells on the abrasions. She considered trying to grab the wand from him, but in her weak state it was much more likely she would just injure herself further. No, it was better to let him heal her and then worry about escape.

She'd tried apparating, of course – but some kind of magic stopped her from being able to leave. It seemed that one could apparate in, but not out. She only hoped there were other ways to leave.

As he healed her, Tom spoke in soft but quick words, explaining things Ginny was sure she'd be confused about if she didn't have more important things to worry her. Things about being in her head, the things he could and did do. Causing her headaches, stretching his power out to cause headaches in Hades, causing the storm that put out the fire when she'd left her candles lit, and perhaps most interesting…

"The maps in the records that you saw," he said, finishing up with the last of her wounds, "Were not maps. I projected the image onto them for your sake. Instead, they were instructions left by Lord Voldemort."

"You're Lord Voldemort," she muttered, more as habit than actually meaning the words. She knew by now that he insisted something was different, but she didn't understand what he meant by that.

Tom only took a second to shake his head, but otherwise didn't respond. "Voldemort had suspected something would happen, though he wasn't sure exactly what. He left behind a list of spells and potions to use in case a piece of his soul survived."

"And it did survive," she said, disgust in her voice as she blinked her eyes and looked at his white face. She couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye, but she stared at his almost unnaturally high cheekbones. "You're the part of his soul he hoped still existed."

Tom turned from her and went to the kitchen sink, turned the water on, set the wand aside and began rinsing her blood from his hands. "The records also contained instructions for Hades, as you know. They said that should Ginevra Weasley ever appear at his door, he was to give her the records and prepare this place as a hideout. He was also to be sure she wasn't dating Harry Potter. Hades assumed that was for the sake of Potter, to break him."

"Wasn't it?" Ginny asked, then as quietly as possible slipped off the stool.

"Perhaps. But there could have been other, deeper motives Voldemort himself-" Tom's words cut off when he turned and caught Ginny by the wrist as she reached for the wand. Ginny immediately kicked his knee, and grinned as she heard the 'pop' that told her some serious damage had been done. Tom winced, but it wasn't until she dropped the wand that he released her. As he moved to pick the wand up, Ginny turned and ran. She propelled herself forward as quickly as her legs were capable of moving her, but she only made it to the entryway when she heard Tom speak, loudly and quickly. He was reciting spell after spell, some she recognized, some she did not. She kept moving anyway, hoping he wasn't cursing her. She reached the door and her trembling hand wrapped around the handle – and the next thing she knew, she was on the other side of the room, her legs a tangled mess on the floor in front of her, her torso arched against the wall, her head aching from where it had hit the wall hard. With a groan, she managed to move her legs back around and under her, and she pushed herself up. Dizzy and stunned, she still moved around the table to the window, and tried to lift it open, but again she found herself flung to the other side of the room and a buzzing feeling filled her limbs as though she'd been electrocuted.

Heavy, steady footfalls told her that Tom had arrived. She could hear him chuckle cruelly. "Care to try again?"

Ginny tried to glare up at him, but her vision was so blurred she wasn't sure if she was staring at him or the fern. "What did you do?" she asked, or tried to. Her speech was slurred so it came out more like 'Wha blib yiw do?', but he seemed to understand her.

In his hand he twirled the wand. "A few protection spells. You can't get out, dear Ginevra. And if anyone gets close enough for you to try to draw the attention of, they won't see or hear you. You could try to undo the spells, of course…but it won't do any good. My magic is far more advanced than yours, thanks to Lord Voldemort."

Ginny blinked a few times and pushed herself back on her feet. She was seeing double and it made her dizzy, and she swayed for a moment and gripped the wall to keep herself vertical. "Why do you keep acting like you aren't Voldemort?" she muttered, still nearly breathless from hitting the wall.

Tom smirked. "Lord Voldemort is dead."

"I know!" exclaimed Ginny, finally meeting Tom's dark, sadistic eyes. "I know Voldemort was dead. But here you stand."

"I am not Lord Voldemort," he said, taking a few steps closer to her. He used the tip of the wand to move a strand of red hair from her face. She reached for it, but grabbed at a nonexistent image. She was seeing double again, due to her sudden movements.

Tom stuck the wand somewhere in his jacket, and continued to speak, his voice now calm and even. "I was once a piece of his soul that his memory hid inside you. But after he died, all of the pieces of his soul came together into the last living being his soul remained inside of…you. I have all of his memories and skills, but I was never Lord Voldemort as you knew him. I only used that name amongst school friends."

Ginny blinked, and her vision finally cleared. Now feeling steady, she released the wall and stood as tall as she could before Tom…but he was still much taller than she was, enough to tower over her. She took in a slow, deep breath, gathered her courage and asked, "What do you intend to do now, then? Become Lord Voldemort again? Kill muggles and muggle-supporters? And why am I here, trapped with you? Why not just kill me?"

Tom took a few steps back to lean against the table, his long, small frame still imposing in this casual stance. "Would death be preferable?" he asked slowly. "Would death be preferable to being trapped with me, dear Ginevra?"

"Stop calling me that," Ginny muttered, and then spoke louder, folding her arms across the front of her body, feeling almost safer that way. "And maybe it is," she said. She was sure he noticed her voice trembling, but she couldn't help it. Her blood seemed to run both hot and cold, her mind unsure whether she was terrified or furious. She didn't want to die, but when she was trapped with him in her mind she'd been ready to welcome death to escape him.

"Is it really?" asked Tom, darkly amused. He also crossed his arms, but where Ginny was defensive he was casual and cold. "Would you prefer I cast the Killing Curse now, or later?"

Ginny blinked, not expecting this answer. Why would he go through the trouble of bringing her here if – if…? "I…I don't mean that-"

"Relax, Elaine," said Tom, standing straight and tall again. "I'm merely calling your bluff. You wouldn't die to escape me before. You won't now, though you are just beginning to understand what it is to be trapped."

"Excuse me?" Ginny practically growled, clenching her hands into fists. "I was trapped with you inside my head for months! For months I could barely see Harry, barely spend time with my family, barely even sleep without hearing you say horrible things or cause headaches or make me say things I didn't want to. I was the definition of trapped!"

Tom gave a chuckle that was empty of mirth and full of a warning of danger. "You do not know the definition of trapped until you've been locked inside someone else's mind, with no body or voice of your own. You could not do everything that you wished, but still you chose when to breathe and what to eat, how to spend your time and where to look. I had no power of my own besides speaking to you and occasionally making you feel and say things. I could barely even appear before you!" In Tom's smooth voice she heard a note of rage she'd only heard before when he spoke about Harry. His eyes narrowed at her to slits that reminded her of a snake. As he slowly approached, she instinctively backed away as though backing away from a flame that burns too closely. "All I was during that time was a voice inside your head with few ways to show I had a will of my own. You do not know trapped until you can make no decisions, have no freedoms. Even now you can choose to move away from me. I could not move from you no matter how much I wished to."

Ginny tried to speak, but the sound got lost in her throat. Attempting to breathe evenly, she stared deep into Tom's dark eyes and recognized his fury, his hatred of living in her all that time and his disgust at the memory of it. "Then why am I here? Why are we trapped together again?"

Tom sighed and the heat left his eyes. "You know the reason."

"No, I don't," insisted Ginny, attempting to take another step away from him but realizing she was up against the wall. "I don't know why you hate being stuck with me yet choose to kidnap me and keep me with you. Stop speaking in riddles and just tell me."

"Because I can't escape you, you damned woman, you Delilah," Tom roared. The fire in his eyes returned, and she could see his hand moving towards the pocket in his jacket that held the wand.

Quickly, Ginny darted to the left and ran around the table, then through the entry and up the stairs. She found her way to the attic – as far from him as she could get – and closed and locked the door. With a quick glance around at the newly cleaned attic, she found most of the furniture Harry had bought. She moved a plush red armchair in front of the door, and then moved further into the scarlet-and-gold covered room. Between gold lion statues and a large cherrywood armoire, she found the red-and-gold pinstriped loveseat Harry had loved the most. She crawled into it and took two red velvet curtains that had been draped over the side and covered herself with them. They still smelled like the cottage when Harry had owned it – like cotton and cinnamon and pine-scented wood polish and apple cider. She took in deep breaths of it and with her eyes closed she could almost imagine her and Harry were just visiting the place one day as a sort of vacation, like they'd planned to do when Harry rebuilt the place. Visions of a life that would never be hers flashed before her eyes, of her and Harry roasting marshmallows in the fireplace, folding air-dried sheets together, sitting curled up together in this chair watching muggle television. It all was too sweet to ever exist in this cruel world.

Ginny began to feel tears prick at her eyes when there was loud movement downstairs – a door opening and closing. She hoped briefly that it was Harry, that he had found her, but realized that Tom's spells would make that impossible. The lack of struggling sounds confirmed this. But what did it mean, then? She threw the curtains aside and crawled off the loveseat, moved the chair and left the attic. Slowly, she looked in each of the bare upstairs rooms, and then moved downstairs. He was nowhere to be found, and she couldn't see him outside any of the windows.

"…Tom?" she called out, trying not to sound hopeful. There was no answer. He'd left her alone.

Immediately, Ginny ran to the front door, but was again flung against the wall. Once she recovered, she tried to open a back window, but soon found herself sliding across the floor with alarming force. She went back up into the attic and there found a hammer. She tried it on the window glass again and again with such force that her shoulder ached from the impact – but there wasn't even a crack in the glass. Desperate, she kept attempting to break the window until the hammer itself came apart from the handle. Angry and disappointed, she flung the handle at the window, but it bounced off and hit her in the chest.

When the pain in her chest had gone from severe throbbing to a dull ache she tried her one, last hope. She opened the grate of the fireplace and stuck her head inside, and looked up. It was quite a long way to climb, but with her situation being what it was she was sure she'd find the strength. Carefully she stood inside the fireplace, leaned against the wall and put her feet up on the other one, pushing herself back to stay up. She moved a foot forward, stepping quickly and carefully, and tried to move herself upwards – but the brick was rough and her back wouldn't slide. She took a deep breath and tried to use her legs to push herself up, but to no avail. With a frustrated cry, she tried to carefully get back on her feet, but in the process of twisting and lowering she scrapped her back and pulled some muscle where her leg met her hip. Nearly blind with hopelessness and tears, she tried jumping and gripping the wall, her feet desperately trying to find some grip but failing.

She really was trapped.

Wiping tears off her face with a soot-covered hand, she headed back to her attic refuge. She closed and locked the door and again moved the chair in front of it. With a bit of inspiration, Ginny gathered together the odds and ends that were left of Harry's things to form almost a circle, then used the gold and white and red bedding to cover the objects and the floor in the middle of the circle. Now she had herself a true sanctuary, a tent of warmth and smells of home and reminders of love. She crawled inside with an old textbook she'd found in a dresser drawer, and began reading, hoping that somehow this simple book of spells would hold the secret of her escape.

It was maybe four hours later when she heard the door again, and she realized that perhaps that was the secret all along – Tom Riddle could come and go as he pleased. Maybe there was some way for her to make it through with him.

Ginny wanted to hide in her sanctuary of fabric and old furniture forever, but curiosity drove her to crawl out of it. She wanted to know what was so important as to make Tom Riddle leave the one place he was sure Harry couldn't find him.

Now barefoot, she walked down the cool wood stairs and moved quietly into the kitchen, where she could hear Tom moving and the rustle of paper. Here she saw him unloading plain brown paper bags, filling the cupboards with food. A quick glance at the other bags showed her male and female clothing, potion ingredients and grey and green bedding. She reached out and touched one of the sheets that looked like silk but felt almost like cashmere.

"That fool Xylander furnished only the downstairs," Tom muttered fiercely, glancing at Ginny briefly. "He completely forgot about bedding or clothes. I had to go out to get supplies myself."

It took Ginny a moment to remember that Xylander was Hades. It took her another moment to realize just how much food Tom had purchased, and how many bags of clothes.

"How long do you intend to hold me here?" she asked, frowning. This was an important question that had nearly slipped her mind, but then, her mind had been damaged by Tom. It was no surprise she was more worried about why she was here than whether or not it was indefinite.

Tom didn't pause as he filled a large wood bowl with various bright and sweet smelling fruits. "As long as it takes for you to accept the truth."

"What truth?"

"Exactly."

"What truth?"

Tom didn't respond, but only began putting away another bag of groceries. Frustrated, Ginny sighed and left the kitchen, settling down on an uncomfortably firm chair in the sitting room. She looked out the window and watched as raindrops fell from the grey sky into the small back garden. The garden itself was dying, uncared for while Harry was away. Flowers were wilting in the cold and bushes were beginning to brown. Only a lemon tree in the back seemed healthy and sturdy without being cared for. Ginny felt sure there was some sort of metaphor there, but she couldn't come up with one.

Her mind was filled with questions. What did Tom want with her? What truth was it that he wanted her to realize? How long was he going to keep her there, and what did he want with his third chance at life? And most importantly – how was she going to escape? Could she follow him out of the house one day, perhaps? Or force him to take her out somehow?

She contemplated these questions longer than she thought, for when she stopped to listen for Tom she realized he was no longer in the kitchen. He'd moved upstairs, and was moving about in a bedroom. She stood and went back up the stairs, and looked into the room. Curtains were up, a wardrobe stood opened filled with dresses and coats, and Tom stood by the bed, making it the Muggle way. That was curious – why would he do it by hand, when he so hated muggles?

But in a moment this thought didn't matter, because she saw the handle of the wand sticking out of his jacket. With more speed then she knew she contained, she took the wand from him and quickly moved back into the hallway so he couldn't wretch it from her grasp.

Tom laughed, turning to face her, the fingers of his right hand stark white against the deep emerald green of the sheets. "And what exactly do you plan on doing with me now, dear Ginevra?"

"Take me out of here," she demanded.

"No."

"Take me out or…or I'll break it."

"You'll only trap us both in here forever. Are you that fond of me, Elaine?"

"I'll kill you, then," she insisted in a burst of courage.

"Will you?"

"Yes."

"Prove it," he said, his voice daring her to try something, anything.

Ginny stood still and stared at him with wide eyes for a long moment, then with a quick breath, she exclaimed, "Crucio!"

Tom Riddle flinched, his muscles tensed, and then he laughed. "That's all, dear Ginevra?"

Filled with anger and hatred at his mocking, Ginny's breathing became shallow, her heart raced, her fury overcame her common sense and – "Avada Kedavra!"

But nothing happened. Again, Tom laughed. "You must have grown more attached to me than I thought."

Devastated at her failure and in tears, Ginny gave one last try, and cast a stinging hex on him, with a bright flash of white light. He winced and began swatting his skin as though he were trying to kill ants crawling on him, and she saw his arm begin to swell. Finally victorious, Ginny grinned.

"Take me out!" she insisted. But she backed away as an annoyed Tom seemed to appear in front of her, and he gripped her arm hard and shoved her back, pulling the wand out of her grip.

"Don't be pathetic," he sneered, and quickly undid her hex. "It's disgusting."

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked as she sobbed. She was horrified at her weakness, crying in front of him…but she couldn't stop her shoulders from shaking or the tears from spilling out of her bloodshot eyes. "Why are you doing this to me, what did I do to you?"

"You know why," Tom breathed, turning away from her and going back to the bed.

"No, I don't," insisted Ginny as she leaned against the wall for support.

She heard him mutter again, but he tucked the wand back into his jacket and continued to make the bed. Surrendering, Ginny turned away, and returned to her attic sanctuary.

Artificial: I hope you enjoyed that chapter! I'm sorry Tom seems a bit…off? I'll get back into it next chapter, I swear!