A/N: Sorry, for the length and slow updates. This is only about half of what I had planned for this chapter, but I decided to post something, so you wouldn't think I abandoned this story. Unfortunately, the next few updates will probably be slow as well. I broke a few fingers playing ball last week, and needless to say, it is slowing down my typing speed. (Even worse, I work as a transcriber, so now I'm pretty much useless at work as well).

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I'd love some more. Reviews make the pain go away…

******************************

"Who in bloody hell is Tom?" Draco demanded for the fifth time. Blaise just shrugged, and studied his nails, not feeling much like spending the rest of his evening listening to Draco moan about his newest obsession, when he could be taking some pretty, naïve Hufflepuff out to the Forest for a evening of fun. Blaise actually preferred the Death Eater-obsessed Draco to the Ginny Weasley-obsessed Draco.

"There is one way to find out who Tom is." Blaise said, grinning.

Draco stopped pacing and pivoted around to face his friend. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Blaise to continue.

"You could just ask the little tart."

Draco went red. Blaise didn't know if the boy was angrier about the insult or the suggestion that he go talk to the Weasley girl again. Blaise jumped to his feet and patted his friend on the shoulder.

"Well, if you're done with her, I think I might have a go with her. It seems like the thing to do these days."

Blaise didn't have time to react when Draco grabbed his collar and pulled him in so that they were only inches away. There was an unfamiliar glint in his eyes, before he pulled his mask back up. He let go of Blaise and said coldly, "I'm not finished with her yet. Harry seems to think that she wasn't in a proper state of mind when he found us."

Blaise shrugged. It was no loss. Ginny wasn't anything special anyway, and he had an appointment to keep with two delicious fifth years.

Now left alone, Draco returned to pacing as his mind raced through his options. He couldn't just quit now. Malfoys don't quit and Harry had bounced back from the devastating blow far too quickly. Draco had not forgotten that it was his extra barb that had sent his success crumbling around him. As much as he hated to admit it, Blaise was right, yet again. The Weasley girl was the only way to get to Potter, and until he could get this Tom out of the way, and remove all doubts of Ginny's infidelity, Potter was stubbornly remaining in control.

**********

Blaise was early. It rarely happened, but tonight he was impatient for something to distract him. Hopefully the twins would arrive soon for some good old-fashioned debauchery, and he wouldn't have to think about Draco and that little Gryffindor slut.

The fates were not smiling on Blaise as he opened the door to the Trophy Room, and saw a tiny figure with red hair flowing down her back. She was standing in front of a large a giant gold shield. He cleared his throat and he barely held back a gasp, when she turned and he saw her face.

Her eyes were red and bloodshot and her face was ghostly white, with deep purple circles under her eyes, like she hadn't slept for weeks. She seemed frailer than he remembered her looking that morning, and she pulled her robes tighter around her body, as she hurried passed him. There was definitely something wrong with that girl. He'd have to tell Draco if he remembered. His mind started drifting off to the two girls who would soon be joining him, when he remembered that Ginny had been staring at something. He glanced over to the golden shield and frowned. Tom Riddle. He wondered if that was the same Tom who Draco had been asking about, but one look at the date drove that thought from his mind. It had been at least fifty years since Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts, but why was Ginny there?

His thoughts turned from Ginny when he heard the door behind him and turned to see two beautiful women standing in front of him.

**********

Ginny had not eaten in days, not since Harry had caught her with Draco. She also hadn't slept in Gryffindor tower. Aside from her classes, which had become unbearable now that everybody knew about her and Malfoy, Luna was the only person who had seen Ginny at all, and even she only saw the Gryffindor sparsely.

Ginny had found an abandoned room in the dungeons and had been sleeping there, as much as she was ever sleeping. It was the perfect place, where no one would think to look for her. The one downfall was that the corridor took her right past the Slytherin common room. That had not been a problem until tonight.

After running into Zambini, Ginny had taken off running, first without a destination, but eventually, tired and weak from hunger, she turned down a steep stairwell to the dungeons. She didn't even check for anyone as she passed the common room entrance, a plowed right into someone who was leaving.

"Watch where you are going, you bloody bint!" The young man sneered before getting a better look at the girl sprawled out before him. Not that Draco cared for the Weasley girl, but he was appalled by the states she was in.

Without a thought he scooped her off the ground and turned back to the Slytherin common room. No, he couldn't possibly take her there. Maybe he could dump her outside her common room? No, she'd probably end up leaving again, and anyway he could use this chance to talk to her. Then a thought hit him.

He sprinted up the stairs, holding the barely conscious girl, who was too weak to protest anyway, and carefully made his way through the halls without being spotted, until he came to the room of requirement. Opening the room, he came into a large room with an enormous, comfortable He dropped her on the bed, and demanded that she wait for him until he returned.

As soon as he left, Ginny pushed herself up to leave, only to collapse on to the bed again. What was left of her strength seemed to have been knocked out of her when she ran into Draco.

About fifteen minutes later, Draco returned with a spread from the kitchen, which he laid out on a table not far from the sleeping girl. He settled into a chair, and watched Ginny sleep for what seemed to be hours.