Summary: Through a sudden twist of fate, Myrtle is spared the deadly gaze of the Basilisk, unfortunately Tom wasn't so lucky.

An: This chapter is for my first Reviewer for this story Honeyduke's Finest! Who not only reviewed this story but also my other Tom story Memory! Kudos, cheers, and all that jazz!

Chapter 2 Restricted

Tom carefully took a page of the book he was reading in-between his fingertips and flipped it. A shower of poisonous spoors were knocked loose at the action but Tom ignored them, a ghost didn't need to worry about poisoning after all. With a glowing white index finger he gently traced each letter in front of him as if committing them to memory before reaching the bottom of the text, turning the page, and starting the process over again. For the last fifty years this had been his undisturbed late night routine, so he was more than a bit surprised when someone edged their way into the stacks.

He was even more surprised when he saw that she, for it was a she, looked to be little older than a first year. Intrigued Tom stood from the small table he had been sitting at and floated through a book case, carefully maneuvering himself into the pale light of the lantern she carried in her small hand. She wouldn't be able to see him very well in the direct light, and he could observe her unseen. Her hair was very red, almost the shade of an autumn leaf, very pretty but unkempt. This was a girl who didn't put much thought into her appearance, at least not yet. Her face was nothing special and the freckles spattered across her nose and cheeks made him think she had spent too much time in the sun. Her eyes were sharp as they scanned the shelves and the tattered books, and her hand was steady as she reached out for one of the cursed volumes.

"I wouldn't do that." The girl froze, her hand inches from the book and slowly turned to look at the place where Tom's voice had come from, she couldn't see him. She instantly relaxed and a defiant glint entered her hazel eyes "If you're hiding then you're not a teacher or a prefect, you can't do anything to me." Tom chuckled darkly and the girl shivered in response.

"You are correct, I can't do anything to you, you can do whatever you wish," he floated into the darkness and came into full view, making her jump in surprise, "By all means touch the book." Her eyes narrowed and her fingers curled back.

"Something bad will happen to me if I do wont it?" Tom's lips quirked but he didn't say anything, the girls brow furrowed and her arm dropped to her side. She scanned the shelves again before pointing to another book.

"Is that one safe?" Tom's eyes flickered to it for a brief second before returning to hers.

"That depends on your definition of safe."

"Can I touch it without something exploding?"

"Yes," she reached for it "Although your skin will peel from your muscles." she yanked her hand back and she shot him a venomous glare. She jerked her head toward the small stack of books on the table he had been using.

"And those?"

"One will make your eyes melt after reading chapter five, another will make your hair fall out-" almost immediately she ran her fingers through her locks, "And the pages of the book that is open is covered in poisonous spores."

"Are there any books I can read." she asked with an exasperated sigh. His lips quirked again.

"You can read any book you desire Miss Weasley, just remember that there may be consequences for doing so." she rolled her eyes before examining him again.

"You know my name?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

"I know your surname, the red hair gave you away." not to mention the shabby clothing and the resemblance to the twins who, on occasion, hid in his bathroom to escape the prefects.

"Oh…" she trailed off before looking up and into his eyes, "I'm Ginny." she stared at him expectantly, as if she expected him to introduce himself and when he didn't her eyes narrowed.

"Well?"

"Well?" he repeated back at her and her cheeks burned red.

"What's your name?"

"What will you give to know that?" she blinked and looked at him with a dumbfounded expression.

"What would a ghost want?" she asked, seemingly to herself.

"Information."

"What kind of information?"

"What are you doing in the restricted section at this time of night?" her lips tightened and her eyes found a spot on the floor to focus on, as if she were too ashamed to look him in the eye.

"My brother dared me to do it."

"Lie." her eyes shot up to meet his.

"What?"

"You are not telling me the truth." she looked startled and in that moment he could tell she was used to lying and getting away with it.

"You sound like my mother," she grumbled to herself "Fine then if you want the truth, I was curious."

"About?" she stuck out her chin stubbornly and glared at him.

"I answered your question, I don't have to tell you anything else. Now tell me your name."

'More clever than the average Gryffindor,' he thought eyeing the crest with distain, 'She should be in Slytherin, she would do very well there.'

"Tom." he finally answered.

"Tom? As in Tom Riddle?" she asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes." She looked suddenly looked embarrassed and he quirked an eyebrow in response.

"You were the one who gave your life to save the school during the Chamber incident. You even got a special services to the school award, it was the most heroic thing a student has done since the eighteen hundreds." Her eyes shone with hero worship.

'My, my it seems I have an admirer,' he thought looking into the glowing eyes of the young girl, 'This could be useful in the future.' he thought and plans started spinning in his head for the first time in a long while.

"Is that so?" he asked distractedly and she nodded eagerly.

"I never expected to actually meet you," she gushed. "No one ever told me you were a-" she paused and waved awkwardly in his direction as if worried she would offend him.

"Ghost?" she nodded. "I can't imagine why they would, most have forgotten me by now. Only a few of the teachers would remember my time here." Her eyes softened in pity and disgust twisted in his stomach. He hated pity, pity was a sign of weakness and his liking for the girl dropped a few notches. 'She could learn to be rid of it though. She would made a very good Knight.' he thought and he mentally shook his head, 'No it wouldn't work. A little girl to assist me in regaining power? The thought is laughable, look at her family, look at her house- who would see her coming?' he blinked as an idea started to form in the dark recesses of his mind. After all his years of reading he had multiple theories about how to regain a mortal body, but he needed someone alive and magical to test those theories. This little Weasley could be just the thing he needed to live once more.

"Tell me why you were curious and I will tell you what books you can read." he commented and Ginny jolted in surprise. She frowned and looked to be deep in thought, Tom didn't push her, he couldn't afford to push her, if he was going to use her needed to be subtle and slow. He would make her believe as he did, have her do the things he wasn't able to, and in the end her loyalty be for him and him alone. It would take a while, but Tom didn't care he had all the time in the world.

"Professor Snape mentioned something about the dark arts in class today, I just wanted to see if it was true." Tom sensed there was something more to her answer but didn't pry, he would find out eventually.

"Alright," her shoulders slumped in what he identified as relief "You see that thin book over there?" she nodded "It is a good place to start, it is all about the theory behind the dark arts and it should go hand in hand with your class right now. You are a first year correct?" She nodded, her eyes already straining to read the text she had snatched from the shelf.

"I wouldn't linger here too long though, the squib and his cat patrol here around this time, go back to your dorm." almost as if on cue there was a loud purring meow and Ginny jumped almost dropping her lantern in the process.

"Mrs. Norris!" Ginny squeaked in alarm.

"Go back to your tower, I can distract the cat." she shot him a grateful look and tucked the book into her pocket and bolted away, her lantern swinging wildly. When she was out of sight Tom went over to the book he had been reading and picked it up. The cat came around the corner its tail in the air, its red eyes glittering and its whiskers twitching smugly. With a quick burst of energy that had left Tom momentarily feeling very week, the book went flying and hit the cat square in the side. The cat hissed loudly and bolted away sneezing loudly, the squib running after it howling for his precious feline to return to him.

But Tom ignored them and gently put the books he had been reading back where they had been before, no evidence left behind if the worst should happen to the cat. When he finished he scanned the room rapidly for anything he might have missed before floating through the wall of the library. He was instantly accosted with the affronted grumblings of the portraits about a rude little redheaded girl who had just ran by. Waking them all from their peaceful slumber.

"No discipline!" One portly man yelled to the woman in the painting next to him. "Not like in our day."

"In our day! Roderick you are seventy years older than I am!" the man flushed and stammered out an apology but the woman wasn't listening to him any more. She simply huffed in annoyance and drew a curtain across her frame.

"Cute aren't they?" Tom glanced to his left to see the Grey Lady hovering there.

"Helena." he responded curtly, her smile widened as she took his hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. It took everything in Tom's power not to pull away from the contact he had grown unused to in his isolation.

"You are out early," she commented "You normally don't leave until the sun starts to come up."

"You have been watching me." her smile turned shy.

"No, I just haunt the library and you come here every night, you're a hard person to miss Mr. Riddle." She shot him another smile "One would think that you were a Ravenclaw with the amount you read." she gently teased as they glided down the hallways.

"I simply like to be well informed."

"That is what I love about you," she said fondly. "I'm sure the others would appreciate it too." Tom held back a sigh, ever since their first interaction as ghosts she had been attempting to get him to interact with the rest of the 'community', as she called it. He thought it was a bit hypocritical seeing as she rarely spent any time outside her own company herself. But he never bothered to tell her that and simply ignored her attempts each time they spoke.

"Your deathday is coming up," she mentioned casually, "Do you have any plans that night?" He grimaced, he had hated celebrating his birthday when he was alive and his deathday was no different. In fact he thought the whole thing rather morbid, why anyone would celebrate the day of their death was beyond him and he tried to ignore his.

"I haven't made any plans, the whole thing makes me uncomfortable, you know that." she frowned and pulled him to a stop.

"Tom death isn't anything to be uncomfortable about, it is a natural part of-" he held up a hand.

"I meant parties Helena, they make me uncomfortable." her cheeks flashed grey and she looked down at the hem of her dress.

"Oh, I thought-" she shook her head. "Well it doesn't matter what I thought, I shouldn't have pushed you." He sighed, they went through this conversation every few years. When would she finally give up her useless attempt to get him to socialize with the other ghosts? He glanced down at her and noticed the stubborn glint in her eye.

'Never then.' he thought with a mental sigh as they made their way to his bathroom.

"It has been wonderful talking to you Tom. As usual." he gave a small bow of his head.

"Likewise my lady." Her cheeks flashed gray again and she floated away back to the library, glancing over her shoulder every once and a while. When she was out of sight his polite mask faded and he glared listlessly after her. He sighed and floated back into the bathroom laying back in the spot he had last been alive. He wasn't tired, he could never be tired but he shut his eyes anyway and began to rearrange his plans to fit the little Weasley.

A small smirk stole away across his lips 'Your future is mine Gin dear, you just don't know it yet.'