A/N: So I did NaNoWriMo which took up November, and had a job for a while there in December, and I'm not so great at the working-and-writing thing. I'm concerned about when I get a real job. But uh, we'll see. I meant to post this earlier, but writer's block.
I always open chapters with apologies, don't I? Hopefully that won't happen too many more times. I've tried to put myself on a writing schedule, and we'll see how it works. To try to make up for the wait, I combined two chapters in one here. And I'm very sorry to the people I personally promised a quick new chapter to. I fail. We all know this.
Three things before we jump in. One, I stole from my fanfiction 'Fatal' here. I knew it was coming since the beginning, apparently I like stealing from myself! Two, I mess around with JK's world a bit, particularly when it comes to Horcruxs. I also ignore a bit of information released in Pottermore. But it's a fanfiction, and in order to make it work I had to do some tweaking. And three, the lovely theMFDgirl has translated my Tom/Ginny oneshot Cinderella and Persephone into French! She's amazing and as far as I can tell (not speaking any French) she did an incredible job, and I'm very thankful for her work. Anyone interested in reading the French translation should definitely look her up.
Otherwise, I own nothing. It's all J.K. Rowling's world, I'm just playing in it.
Enjoy, and please consider reviewing!
"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution." – J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
The pure and simple truth is rarely pure and never simple. – Oscar Wilde
It was almost unbearably warm. Sleepily, Ginny kicked the gold sheet off of her body and rolled over, burying her face into Harry's old winter cloak. She breathed in deep, and through the dusty smell she could almost smell the faint almond scent of the candles they'd been burning last time they'd been at the cabin together. She could remember it all so clearly. Snow was threatening in the dark grey sky, and they sat out in the garden, at a table covered in the almond-and-vanilla scented candles, discussing everything and nothing under the cold winter sun. It was the last time she'd felt really close to Harry, before Tom had really begun to torment her. It had been a lovely time.
Sighing contently, Ginny did her best to keep the memory in her mind, keeping her eyes closed and trying to remember the bite of the cold, the breath on the air, and the warm tones of Harry's voice. But it all began to slip away as she heard movement through the floor, reminding her that she was not alone here.
Slowly, Ginny sat up to kneel on the hard wood floor. The movement was coming from the hallway downstairs, headed for the attic stairs. Quickly, Ginny pushed herself into a corner of her tent sanctuary and covered herself from her shoulders down with Harry's old cloak, then wrapped the sheet around her back, as though these bits of cotton and velvet would serve as armor against her coming enemy.
She held her breath as she heard Tom's whispered spell and the click of the lock. The sound of his surprisingly light footsteps seemed to echo in her ears, as did the creak and click of the closing door. She heard his soft, cold chuckle and closed her eyes as he came closer and closer. She wished with every fiber of her being that he would simply disappear, and leave her with her happy memories of Harry. She was tired. She was so very tired of it all and she wanted more than anything to be away from Tom Riddle. Exhaustion filled her to her core, and she knew this was the reason she had changed so much. More than her fear of going mad, more than her constant fear of Tom, more than anything he had caused, it was her sheer exhaustion of life that had changed her from the lioness she once was to the mouse she was now. She just needed to rest. Why couldn't she just rest?
She peeked open one eye and saw Tom's shadow bend down, and pull open a wall of her tent. He set something on the ground beside him and then slid inside, sitting on his knees then sliding the thing he'd set down in after him. It was a silver tray carrying food, apples and strawberries, cubed cheese and thick slices of ham, muffins and croissants with small white dishes of lavender jam and honey and butter and cream. There was also a pot of tea and two little glass tea cups.
"It's nearly one in the afternoon, dear Ginevra. Aren't you ashamed to sleep so late?"
She refused to reply, but stared at him steadily with narrowed, accusatory eyes.
Her glare didn't seem to faze him, and he pushed the tray towards her. "You must be hungry by now. Eat." It was a command, but Ginny didn't move. The way his jaw was set told her that he wasn't amused by her refusal, but nevertheless he faked a charming smile.
He reached forward and pulled the tray back towards him slowly, inch by inch, until it sat between them. His long, white fingers circled a dark red apple, and he lifted it off the tray and he closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet scent, and then opened his eyes and leisurely took a bite, his dark eyes locked on Ginny's. Just as slowly, he chewed and swallowed, then turned the apple in his hand to reveal the white flesh of the fruit, revealed by the almost heart-shaped bite.
"It is good to eat again," he commented casually, leaning back on his free hand.
Again, Ginny didn't respond, but instead turned her gaze to the tray. She watched as steam slowly rose from the spout of the tea pot, and she felt so incredibly thirsty. But taking something from this tray would feel too much like giving in to him, like saying his abduction of her was okay. So she would wait until he left, then go down and find food for herself.
"Do you remember that lovely little secret you told me not too long ago?" he said, his voice now a little too casual, a mocking friendliness. "What was it…"
She refused to give him a reaction and kept her expression as stoic as she could. The smell of the strawberries and the honey was going to drive her mad…she could feel her stomach preparing to growl in hunger and tried her best to forbid it to do so.
"Come now, little Delilah, you must remember. Something about your first year…"
Ginny's decision to stare at the steam was ruined when Tom reached for the tea pot and poured two cups. After setting the pot down with hardly a sound, he delicately picked up the glass tea cup nearest himself and took a sip of the dark amber liquid.
After savoring the flavor of the tea, he spoke again. "Oh, that's right. You said that you loved me in your first year. I wonder…did you wish I loved you back?"
Ginny blinked and tried to fight back the tears. She had cried more than enough over this…not man, this thing. She refused to do it again.
"There, your eyes tell me I'm right. Just because you aren't looking at me doesn't mean I can't see them, Delilah," he commented, amused.
"I'm not Delilah," she said automatically, and she cursed her voice for speaking again her will.
"Of course you're not," said Tom, setting the cup back on the saucer with a soft 'clink', a tone of satisfaction in his voice. "I wonder if you know the significance of that name?"
She didn't. She didn't know most Muggle stories, which was where Tom seemed to get most of his nicknames for her from.
She bit her lip and curled her legs in closer, resting her chin on her knees.
Tom made a thoughtful sound, then after taking another bite of the apple and swallowing quickly, he spoke again. "You didn't answer my question directly, though, and that's not polite. Did you want me to love you back, Ginevra?"
Ginny didn't respond.
"I see. Well, there's nothing in this for you, is there? Why should you answer me?" Tom set the apple back on the tray. "Well then. Let's make this conversation one worth having. One honest answer is one letter to a family member. Interested in talking now?" When Ginny glanced up hopefully, thoughts of forming some sort of code to tell them where she was flying through her mind, Tom chuckled. "Of course, I'll be doing the writing. You'll tell me what to write. No telling them where we are, Delilah – that would be quite the betrayal."
Of course Tom would think of that. Or perhaps he was reading her mind? Either way, she knew there wouldn't be a code in the world she could slip by him, not with him writing the letter. But it was contact. A form of contact. How could she pass this up?
"Do we have a deal?"
Ginny pressed her lips together, and then nodded. "Yes."
"Yes we have a deal, or…?"
"Yes to both," she said, her voice coming out haggard. "When I was in my first year and I loved you – or who I thought you were – I wanted you to love me back. After a while, I was talking about Harry in an attempt to make you jealous. I would have given anything to make you love me. If you'd asked me to die to make you real, I might have done it just to make you love my memory."
"A memory loving a memory…" the corners of Tom's mouth turned up. "How very poetic of you."
"I wanted every part of you to want every part of me. Is that enough of an answer for you?"
Tom picked up the teacup again, and took another sip, seeming to carefully consider Ginny's answer. "Yes, I suppose. And a deal is a deal – one answer, one letter."
Ginny nodded excitedly, trying to decide whether to write her mother or her father – either way, the whole family was sure to read it, which meant she didn't really have to write another, and then she could finally –
"One letter to Mafalda Prewett."
Ginny's jaw dropped. "What?"
"You know Mafalda – your mother's second cousin's daughter."
Ginny's eyes were wide. "But…I…"
"I said a family member," Tom reminded her. "I did not say you got to choose which one."
"You tricked me."
"You're surprised?"
No, she wasn't, Ginny supposed. But she still felt the sting of disappointment. She knew next to nothing about Mafalda, except that she'd been in Slytherin. She wasn't even sure which year. There was no guarantee a letter to her would get back to her family.
She took a deep breath. "One answer, one letter. Do you want any more answers?" She would just keep answering questions until he ran out of extended family, and cross her fingers he still wanted answers when they finally got to her real family.
"Let's see…yes, I suppose I do have another question," said Tom, who then sipped his tea. "If you loved me now, would you want me to love you back?"
"I wouldn't love you now," said Ginny quickly, feeling nauseated at the very thought.
"Let us say that you did," Tom replied, "Say you love me now as you did then. But now that you know who I am and what I am capable of…would you want my love in return?"
"You are…you are pure poison. All you are is bitterness and fire and acid. Everything you are destroys me, everything you do burns me. Why would I ever love you?"
"You loved me once."
"I hate you now."
"No…" Tom said slowly, his voice almost distant. "No, I don't think so."
Now Ginny couldn't stop the tears from making salty trails along her hollow cheeks, but they were tears of anger and she could excuse them. "You have put me through hell. When I was a child you used me and possessed me and drained me of life. You've gotten my friends and family killed, you tried to wipe out a whole race of people that I love, and kill all those who feel the same way I do. And even after you died you again possessed me and used me and drove my remaining friends and family away from me just to torture me further, drove me mad, nearly used my body to kill the man I love and tricked me into bringing the darkest being all time back to life – and that being is you! Then you abduct me and hold me hostage in Harry's home!" her voice had slowly raised in volume, and now she was shouting at him. "How in the whole of the world could you possibly think that I don't hate you?!"
Slowly, gently, Tom set the tea cup back on the tray, then leaned forward, staring deep into Ginny eyes. She felt like he was examining her soul.
"Is it my turn to tell my side of our story then, Ginevra?"
She blinked several times, and then sighed and leaned back, deflated. Nothing she said seemed to matter. "Fine. I don't care. Say what you want to say."
Tom's eyes didn't leave hers for some time. She stared back for a moment, but they were too dark and intense. His strangely heated gaze made her stomach twist, and she looked back down at the tray of food, and still she felt his gaze.
"Shall we begin at the very start, then?" he said slowly, almost seeming to savor each syllable.
"I don't care where you start. Just hurry up so we can be done with this," she snapped impatiently, pulling the cloak off of her body and tossing it aside in irritation.
She heard a brief, soft chuckle come from him, and looked up. His eyes were closed now, and he was taking in a slow, deep breath.
"There is much you already know, much you have been told but do not believe, much I will not tell you," he said, his eyes still closed. With his eyes closed, Ginny felt safe to watch his face for any signs of emotion, though she doubted he was capable of emotion. The only movements in his face were caused by speaking. "You'll recall that when you wrote in the diary, when I poured my soul into you and used you to open the Chamber of Secrets, that I felt an attachment to you. I felt possessive of you, and eventually I realized that if I'd still had a whole soul, I could have loved you."
His eyes opened to see her response, and she simply nodded.
He reached forward and picked up the apple again, and took a bite. When he finished with the bite, he continued to speak. "I have waited for you…I have given you all the information you needed…and you stubbornly refuse to complete the puzzle. I will put it together for you, and it is up to you to decide whether you accept it, or not."
"Could you just get to it, please?"
Tom Riddle smirked, the juices from the apple still on his lips. She looked away when he licked his lips clean. "Very well. I won't go into complete detail, so all you need to understand is that I now have every piece of my soul back. I have my whole soul."
"You've made that clear, I fail to see-"
Tom laughed, and she was surprised at the genuine amusement in his voice. "Already, you are refusing to put two and two together."
Ginny frowned as she felt her temper begin to flare. "Well, you can't love me, you were always evil, so-"
"I never said I loved you," said Tom. "But I did say that I once could have, had I a whole soul then. Now I have a whole soul."
"What are you trying to say, then?"
He took his time, turning the apple over in his hand. "Are you sure you don't want one, Ginevra? They're rather sweet, and may help you open your eyes to truth."
Ginny blinked, and then looked down at the apples suspiciously. "Did you put a truth serum in them?"
"No," said Tom. "I ought to have expected you to not understand."
Ginny sighed, wanted to tell him to just get on with it again but knowing it was useless. He would talk in circles all day if he wanted to, and there wasn't much she could do about it. She lowered her knees and stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing her arms across her chest.
Tom finally set the apple down again. "It is true, I am incapable of love. I have always preferred causing pain in others to caring for them, even as a child. However, now that my soul is united, the potential for something is there. Not real love, of course, but…something."
"You're not making sense," Ginny said.
He looked her in the eye, and smirked again. "That is often your complaint of me." He folded his hands together in front of himself, and continued. "Very well, I will put it simply. I cannot love, but I can once again feel. When my soul was united, I felt. I felt first a longing for you, then something akin to envy when you did not mourn my death. And then, I had two goals. The first was to return to life. The second was to posses you."
Ginny frowned, and felt lines form between her brows. "But you already possessed me."
"In the physical sense, yes, but I wanted to own you. So I began slowly to test my powers, to practice building them, and to isolate you."
Slowly, Ginny reached to the tray and picked up a strawberry. She took a bite, and the red began to stain her lips. "But…why?"
"I wanted to love you," Tom Riddle confessed, causing Ginny to choke on her strawberry. "I wanted to love you so I could have the greatest witch of modern times as my own. But being incapable of that, the next best thing was for you to have no one in the world but me."
Ginny didn't respond, and watched Tom sip his now cold tea before continuing. "That is why I drove you mad, and isolated you from your friends and family. If you didn't have them to depend on, eventually you would have no choice but to turn to me, regardless of your hatred of me. I wanted you to need me and open up to me. I could always read your thoughts and memories, but for them to be offered would have been…a different experience entirely."
"That's why you told me to tell you a secret," she whispered, suddenly realizing this. "That's why you wanted me to tell you that in my first year I loved you. I knew that you could see it, but…but for some reason you felt that my saying it meant something."
"Didn't it mean something?" asked Tom slowly. "You were much easier to control and posses after you offered your secret to me. And had I the time I wanted…perhaps I could have gained more."
"So…" Ginny began, feeling confused. "Was it about gaining power? Or about trying to own me?"
"Yes," was Tom's reply.
"But I don't understand," sighed Ginny, frustrated, feeling as though she never understood anything anymore. "How does my saying something to you that you already knew make you own me more?"
"Which is better – when you know something has been bothering…Harry," he practically spat the name, "And you discover the cause on your own, or when he comes to you and tells you his problems?"
"But that's different. That's Harry and I."
"And I wanted to replace him."
Ginny's head was swimming. She couldn't comprehend the things he was saying, or what they meant then and now, or any of his motives. Tom claimed to be telling his side of things, but now she felt that everything was more unclear than ever before.
"You do not believe me."
"I don't understand you."
"No – you do not want to understand, there is a difference."
"I don't understand," she insisted, though now she decided to focus on something other than his desire to replace Harry, "How does that give you more power over me?"
"In telling me, you gave me more of your soul," Tom explained. "The more of you I possessed, the stronger I became. At first you only feared you were mad – when you began fearing me, you gave me another piece. Each time you spoke directly to me, I gained another piece. That secret was the last thing I needed to be powerful enough to perform the magic to give myself my own body."
Slowly, Ginny reached for another strawberry. "You were literally owning me," she breathed. "I should have known better. In my first year, you grew strong from my secrets. I should have known that telling you another would give you power."
"And the more I've owned of you, Ginevra, the more I've wanted," Tom said, his voice low. "I have now lost all the pieces of your soul, I was unable to keep them while in my own body. But I will not be satisfied until I own all of you."
"You'll never do that," Ginny spat. "I'll never let you."
Tom shrugged slowly, gracefully, as he pushed the tray closer to her. "I already own your body. It is only a matter of time before I own your mind, your soul and your heart."
"Harry has my heart!" Ginny exclaimed, throwing the strawberry back onto the tray. It landed in his empty tea cup. "And no matter what you do, that won't change!"
"What if Harry was…out of the way?"
Ginny felt her face go pale, and her heart drop to her stomach. She instantly regretted throwing Harry in Tom's face. Of course he would take it as a challenge, of course he would use any excuse to go after Harry. And if Harry died because of her, she would – she would – she'd want to be dead, too.
"Don't you dare," she breathed, unable to come up with a better phrase to stop Tom. "Don't you dare."
"Don't I dare what, Ginevra? I never said I would harm him. Only wondered what you would do if he were gone."
"I'd never love you!" Ginny screamed, rising to kneel. "Don't you get that? No matter what you do, I'll never love you. How could anyone ever love a monster like you?!"
She hadn't expected Tom to react, but he did. It was hardly noticeable, but he blinked his eyes quickly, twice, and his next breath came in a little sharper. This reaction only managed to encourage her to continue. "And as for that stupid suggestion that you'd ever even want to love me, well, I see right through your lies. You've always been incapable of love, you've always despised love and called it a weakness. There's no reason you'd ever want to love, even if you could comprehend what real love is!"
Her throat ached, but suddenly she felt lighter than she had in months. She leaned back, sitting down again and wiping tears she didn't remember shedding from her face. Her outburst should have embarrassed her, but instead, she felt liberated. He could do whatever he wanted to her – she wouldn't be pushed around any longer.
Tom sat silent for a moment, and Ginny thought he could almost resemble a statue with his pale skin and complete stillness. She couldn't even see him breathe, and she wasn't sure if she should feel smug to have silenced him, or afraid of his reaction to her outburst. When he swallowed hard and his steely gaze met her eyes, she felt the latter – the deep, instinctual fear of a predator.
"Very well. Do you want to know the truth?" his voice didn't leave any room for comment. "Dumbledore was right," this he said as though the taste of the words were bitter.
He didn't continue for some time, and Ginny finally felt the need to prompt him. "What-what was Dumbledore right about…?"
"About love," said Tom. He knelt now, as well, and the top of his head nearly brushed the roof of the tent. "I saw it as a weakness, and he saw it as strength. I was far more powerful than Dumbledore could ever dream of being…yet in the end, it was love that defeated Lord Voldemort. I will not make it my weakness again. If I can somehow love, and if I can own love, than I will be the strongest creature on the face of this earth, and no one will be capable of defeating me – not even your precious Harry Potter."
Ginny felt ill, and as she looked down to the floor, she could see that her hands were pale and shaking. "So…so you do mean to continue murdering muggles."
She heard Tom scoff, and looked up at him. "I have no intention of killing muggles or muggle-lovers this time, Ginevra." She couldn't help but not that unlike Hades, he didn't seem to mean to say 'mudbloods'.
"Why not?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her brow was furrowed with confusion, unsure of what else he could intend to do with his own body and seemingly infinite power.
"I no longer despise them," Tom explained, almost casually but with a note of distaste in his voice. "I have no reason to, for I finally see the truth. They are but pawns to be used…as are all of Wizarding kind. Anyone weaker than I is meant to be used by me, which puts them all on equal ground. I hate muggle-lovers no more than I hate the weak-minded."
Ginny was more confused than before. "But…but Lord Voldemort hated-"
"Lord Voldemort is dead, Ginevra," he said softly, almost reassuringly.
"I know that," Ginny insisted, shaking her head, causing strands of red to fall across her face that seemed to fascinate Tom for a moment. "If I hadn't seen him die myself, I would know by the many times you've said that. But you're here! So it doesn't make any sense!"
"I told you," Tom sighed slowly, and she caught a hint of frustration in his voice. "I am not Lord Voldemort. I never was."
"But then how-"
"I will explain again, and you will listen closely for I will not say it another time," Tom said, slowly leaning forward, his dark eyes peering into hers. "I am the fragment of soul Lord Voldemort's memory placed inside you, to use you to open the Chamber of Secrets. I have been there since your first year at Hogwarts. When the other hiding places for his soul were destroyed and then Voldemort was killed, they all united into the one living piece left – me. I have all the memories of those pieces. I have the memories of Voldemort, but also memories of the ring, the diadem, the locket, the cup, the snake, and yes, even the life of Harry Potter from the moment he became a Horcrux. However, having these memories does not make me them – I am no more Harry Potter than I am the diadem - and I am not Lord Voldemort."
Ginny's head was swimming with this information. He'd told her this earlier, she remembered that now, but she had been trying to find a way to escape at the time and hadn't connected all the pieces. But now…he had been inside her this whole time? He knew her whole life since her first year – and all of Harry's?
Ginny closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, to make something logical form. "But- but if you're part of the soul in the diary, you would be Lord Voldemort."
"From the time Tom Riddle was sixteen years old, the name Lord Voldemort was one he used with his classmates. Yes, he was making plans…but at that point, Lord Voldemort was merely a nickname, nothing more. Therefore, I am Tom Riddle, but I am not Lord Voldemort, not as you knew him," he paused for a moment, and then a slight smirk appeared on his face. "I am not innocent by any means, however. Do not let my going by my father's name fool you. At the point I was separated from the rest of the soul, I had already murdered my father, grandfather and grandmother, and framed my uncle for doing it. I have my vengeance on my father – and I feel no great need to add any more deaths to my conscience, if I indeed have one."
"I doubt you do," breathed Ginny, now on her knees as well and leaning towards Tom. "You don't seem to regret the deaths you've already caused, or the deaths the other parts of your soul caused. You're bragging about them."
"Just because the magic hasn't turned me into some inhuman creature, it doesn't make me entirely human, Ginevra," replied Tom, "I have always been fine with hurting others. I merely don't see the profit in pointless slaughter any longer."
Slowly, Ginny drew in a breath, preparing herself for what she knew she had to ask. "If you don't plan on killing muggles anymore, then…what do you plan to do?"
Tom leisurely leaned back, sitting again, his legs sprawled out in front of himself, his shoe nearly touching her knee. "I haven't decided yet," he replied in almost a friendly tone of voice, but knowing him as well as she unfortunately did, she heard the mocking in it. "Though I must admit, I am tempted to take over the world, merely to make you my Queen."
Ginny flinched at the comment, but refused to respond to it. "If you haven't decided yet, then what am I doing here?"
Tom Riddle chuckled darkly, and began moving out of the tent. "I have told you why you're here. Now, you may wish to finish your breakfast – the tea has gone cold," he said as he left her sanctuary. As she listened to his retreating footsteps, Ginny tried not to think of how empty it felt now.
"Oh," Tom said suddenly, from the doorway. "Your room is downstairs, Ginevra, and I assure you it is much more comfortable than an attic floor. Surely you can find some better way to defy me than denying yourself a bed?" And with that, he was gone.
ArtificialImagination: I hope you liked it! I know it came out sort of confusing, but it's meant to be that way. Ginny is confused, and so we should be, too.