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

An: Sorry this has been so late but school had taken over my brain! But now that I have some free time this week I will be able to get more done. This story is not abandoned!

Chapter 6 Fantaisie-Impromptu

The quiet sound of scuffling feet was the only warning he got before Ginny snuck around the corner of the bookshelves. She had to scan the area twice before she noticed Tom standing by his usual table. Ginny gave a small smile and walked over to him, carefully avoiding brushing up against the dangerous books.

She had a sheet of parchment in her hand that she carefully opened and held out for him to see. It was the potions assignment he had assisted her in writing earlier that week, next to the title was a giant Oand a hastily scribbled Well Done next to it. Tom examined her face, the smile she was wearing was not a happy smile, it was more- resigned.

"This does not please you?" Ginny sighed and took a seat at the table, brushing her long bangs out of her eyes and trying to find a comfortable spot in the too big chair.

"It does but..." He gave her a questioning glance that she caught.

"I've been trying to avoid doing anything there," she started, laying the small scroll down on the book covered table, drawing her finger over the dry ink of the O "I was doing too good a job though and Professor Slughorn sent a letter to mum to tell her my grades were slipping." She gave a shaky sigh, pulling her hand back into her lap and closing her eyes at the memory of some past upset.

"She sent a howler," Ginny whispered softly, eyes taking on a watery sheen "At lunch and everyone heard." The horror in her voice and the tears that were starting to slowly spill down her slightly rounded cheeks both appalled and fascinated him. Ginny never seemed the type to cry over someone yelling at her, in fact he was positive she was more the type to fight back. 'Perhaps when a mother does it, it is different?' He quietly mused.

"Is there any particular reason you don't do well in potions?" She glared blankly ahead.

"It reminds me of home." Tom frowned, when most children spoke of home it was usually with great fondness, even joy (Except for those like Tom who had no real home in the first place.) so why would this upset the girl whose entire family was (seemingly) dedicated to each other?

"That is a bad thing?" She let out a sharp "Ha!" that echoed through the empty library.

"For my brothers no, for me it is a special brand of torture." Intrigued he pressed on.

"What makes it so?"

"You wouldn't understand." Something in him snarled furiously, he was Lord Voldemort, heir of Slytherin; he could understand anything her pathetic childish mind could come up with, especially if it pertained to torture.

"Explain it to me then." His tone was void of emotion and she looked curiously up at him, he cursed himself for letting his anger show.

"I don't know what it was like for women in your time," she started slowly, almost cautiously, like he was a wild animal about to bite at any sudden action "But here, there is opportunity for me to be anything, I could be a curse breaker like Bill or a dragon keeper like Charlie, hell I could even work in the ministry like dad." She grimaced, her eyes looking distant again as she continued to speak.

"But mum doesn't seem to care about that, she wants me to be like her," there was venom in her voice, "She wants me to cook and clean and have babies." She hissed out babies as if it was the foulest word in her vocabulary. Her eyes were wild as she continued "I can't do it Tom, I can't clean and cook huge meals all day and be happy, I would be bored to tears, and babies- Merlin's beard do you know how they are made? It's disgusting!" She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself.

"How does this relate to potions?" He asked, mind spinning wildly trying to make the connection between her fear of being a housewife and potions.

"Well it seemed so much like cooking that I thought…" She trailed off, understanding flickered through his mind.

"If you were bad at it you wouldn't have to do it anymore?" She nodded.

'I can use this.' he thought, even as a sympathetic smile graced his lips.

"It seems foolish I know I just..."

"I was rather good at potions in my day, but there was someone better," It stung to admit it but he had to force her out of the aversion of potions she had, she looked curiously up at him "A girl named Eileen and she was brilliant, beyond brilliant with potions, but she wasn't a weak woman. She would always threaten to castrate any man who came near her and pickle the body parts." Ginny laughed and a painful hope started to dawn in her eyes.

"Really Tom?" He nodded and she smiled brightly, to his relief he could see no threat of more tears. She stared lovingly at him a moment too long and she blushed when she realized what she was doing.

"I-I only came down here to show you the O and to thank you again; you've been kind to me and helped me when you didn't have to." With that she collected her paper and left as quickly as she came. Tom smirked and shook his head; the little girl was much too easy. He contently settled back down to his books. The peace didn't last though; he had only read ten more pages before he was interrupted again.

Unlike with Ginny he had no warning to her approach and startled horribly when she placed a hand on his shoulder.

He tensed as the Grey Lady softly laughed at his reaction and floated around to his shoulder to peer down at the book, eyebrows quirking.

"'Torture Spells of the Twentieth Century' Interesting reading choice."

"I was curious, I'm sure you can understand my thirst for knowledge." He bit out, trying to soothe his frazzled nerves. If his heart was still beating it would be racing.

"Well yes, but torture spells?"

"I have never been shy about reading whatever caught my interest, no matter how gristly the material, you know this," she nodded contently "But I'm sure you are not here to simply talk about my reading material."

"Ah yes, I am here to ask you if you are free Thursday night."

"I have no pressing appointments." The sharp look she gave him let him know she didn't approve of his sarcasm.

"Well I can expect you to be in the unused classroom on the third floor around midnight then."

"Why?" She smiled a mysterious smile and drew the hand she had not yet removed from his person across his shoulders before letting it fall to her side.

"It's a surprise Tom." Tom hated surprises. His first instinct was to say no, but there was a sharpness to her expression that made him pause. If he didn't turn up to whatever she had planned it would quite literally haunt him.

He sighed, "Very well." The triumph in her eyes grated at him, and he wanted nothing more than to grab her dainty little wrist and twist until it broke, but she wouldn't be able to feel it anyway.

"Very good then, midnight, don't forget Tom." She didn't bother waiting for a response and floated through the book shelves, one volume shivering as she passed.

Tom gave a small annoyed sound when he was sure she was gone and shut the tome he was reading, he wasn't in the mood for it after his interaction with the Lady, and he had much to think about. First and foremost he had to find out what she had planned that Thursday, but before he could do that he had to find out what the date was…

He carefully put his books back into their places and floated out into the ordinary library and made his way over to the newspaper archives. Sure enough the latest copy of the Daily Prophet was displayed and in the upper right hand corner was the date; Wednesday April 14th 1993. Whatever he had agreed to was tomorrow, he had twenty hours to figure out what she had planned. He was about to leave when the headline caught his eye. Terrorist Attack Endangers Muggle Family below it was a picture of a small house on fire and a family of muggles fleeing the scene. He couldn't help but be interested; the last time anything truly noteworthy appeared in the news was seven years ago when a man attempted to take up the mantle of Dark Lord. He had failed miserably, but not before taking out a large chunk of three small wizarding towns in France.

Perhaps another was planning on trying again? He hoped so; things were always more interesting when one was. With that thought he left the library carefully turning over the idea as he wandered the hallways. He thought long and hard about Dark Lords, and he wondered if the circumstances had been different would he have become one.

He paused where he was and played with the idea, carefully turning it over and over again in his mind. 'I think I would have liked to be one.' Tom decided with a small smile before looking around at where he was and promptly frowned, his bathroom again, fifty years of habit had brought him back to his death place once more.

Suddenly angry at himself he turned away and floated through a wall into an empty classroom. It was the charms room, books were pilled everywhere in a half hazard fashion and a giant chalk board outlined the proper wand movements for enchanting objects. He sat down at one of the desks and stared at the animate image of a wand periodically twirling in a counterclockwise movement on the board. He had died the day before they were going to practice advance enchanting. The thought stung as he watched the wand move over and over again, Tom's fingers gave a noticeable twitch and he wondered for the first time in a long while of where his wand might be.

'Did they burry it with me, or did they perhaps resell it?' His fingers twitched again at the thought of another wizard using his wand. 'I don't have time for this.' He thought crossly and stood, it didn't matter where his wand was- he couldn't use it anyhow. What was important was finding out what the Grey Lady was up to, he started to leave the classroom glancing back only once as the charm keeping the notes broke and faded and the board was wiped clean.

'A blank slate.' He thought without humor and his mind turned instantly too little Ginny Weasley. She was empty of knowledge, of anything other than her mother's hopes and dreams for her, but Tom would offer her the escape she craved, show her another way. 'And in return she will assist her savior in his bid for life.' He had the time and the will to mold her and he would, he thought contently, and when she was old enough he would have her start the experiments to bring him back to life. Those thoughts made whatever the Grey Lady had planned for him seem insignificant in comparison, besides that it wasn't as if she could actually do anything to him besides grate on his nonexistent nerves with her presence. Feeling more relaxed then he had all night he left the classroom and made his way back to his bathroom, finding the spot where he died and laid back contently. He would rest until tomorrow night and deal with what would come. He shut his eyes and fantasies of a future played like dreams across his mind.