Prologue: Here's the new chapter. It's shorter than the last two because, well, life's been getting pretty hectic. It's a pretty meh chapter, but I hope you enjoy it. That being said I've got to say this:updating this more regularly is going to be more difficult than I thought. At the very latest, a new chapter will be up every seven to ten days. Oh, and I don't think I'll be naming the chapters after this. I suck at naming things as it is(IE Professor Mertenson, I just borrowed two names on a psych textbook.). In the market for a Beta Reader/editor. Probably for this story and others in the future. Send me a message if interested. No compensation, but a friend said I should get one. Beta Reader must be okay with cliff hangers. They happen. Deal with it.

Questioning your own sanity is the single most annoying thing you could possibly do to yourself. While you're standing there, looking into the eyes of someone you'd considered long gone from the corners of your mind, you ask yourself "Am I going crazy?" While he puts his hand on your cheek, and says he loves you, you have to ask yourself "did I hit my head on something?" The good news is that if you're asking these questions then odds are that you are sane. If you're not, then you really need to get yourself checked.

"Ginny." Tom whispered my name, never taking his eyes from my blanched face. His hand, like a dream, lingered on the periphery of my sensations. He stroked my cheek and I got goosebumps. "I've waited so long for you to feel me. To know I'm here."

"How are you here? You were in the diary. Harry killed you. You and what you become."

Pain flashed through his face. I don't know if this was because he remembered the pain of death, or from my words. "That doesn't matter. I exist because you want me to. Some part of you could never let me go, and I stayed. Hidden deep in your mind."

"You should be gone. Obliterated. There should be nothing of you left. Why have you decided to come back now? Now that all of your horcruxes, both your bodies, after almost everything that made you what you are has been destroyed!" At this point I was almost shouting, terrified by my own lack of sanity. And my attraction to him.

"I don't know. I can't answer you. Horcruxes are pieces of magic that have never been researched seriously. Too dark and evil. If I had to guess, I'd say it's because a sliver of me lived on in your memories, in your heart. Even after the diary was destroyed. If this held true for the diary, then maybe it held true for my other horcruxes. Like Potter. The more time you spend with him, the more that piece of me still in him resonate, and make themselves known. That, or the piece of soul in you, bolstered by your love for me and the support of Potter's piece, has finally gotten strong enough to make itself known."

One explanation questioned the nature of dark magic. The other questioned my mind. Either way, there was nothing I could do but accept the situation. Sure, I could have fought him, but talking to a voice that only exists in your head is weird enough. Fighting it would have thrown me overboard into the loony lagoon. And there was no point, I didn't have the desire to fight him. There was nothing in me that wanted to struggle against these constraints, to free myself from the grasp he had on my mind.

"How... how real are you?"
"Pardon?"

"You heard me, Riddle, how real are you? How can I feel you? Can I feel all of you? What are the limits of this takeover?"

While he considered these questions, his face showed nothing. It was a blank, pale mask. As it had been in life. He was controlled and patient.

"Once again, I don't know. I suppose I'm the result of my conscious, and your will. While I live in your mind, I can interact and communicate, and you can feel me as if it were a dream, but I have no physical presence. I am part of your mind, and nothing more. At least, I think. I cannot act with your body, but I am still a part of it. It's rather confusing."

My head swam. The implications of what he said were great and terrible. He had no physical presence, but I'd still be stimulated by his touch, and he existed as I wished him, although acted as he so chose. Sanity be damned, this was something I could live with.

Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted, and it snapped me out of my realizations. Without a watch or clock there was no way to tell the time, but it was late. Sleep was battering at my mind, threatening to break in at any moment, and I was all but powerless.

"So if you exist because I want you to, how do I contact you? It's late, and I don't want this to be our last chance."

"If I am what you wish, I'll be there. You only need to think of me."

With these final, comforting words, it was time to leave.

"Good night, Tom."

I turned around, but he was gone, replaced by a broken mirror with the romantic appeal of... well, of a broken mirror. Good night, Ginny. The voice was back in my head, and I was soon on my way to the Girl's dormitory, and into a rather reluctant sleep.

The next day marked the first day of classes. Although undoubtedly interesting, potions passed by in a bubbling blur. I concocted some poison or another, doing a mediocre job(despite Slughorn's praise). In transfiguration, McGonnagal showed us how to change our physical appearances. It was nothing like turning into animgaii, but I did manage to give myself a ridiculous poof of jet black hair and an orange skin tone. Overall, the results were horrendous. After a lively History of Magic class, the day was almost over with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Mertenson walked in five minutes late, reminiscent of a zombie, revived just that morning to teach this class.

"Sorry I'm late, class," he said, running his hands through his dirty blonde hair, "I was busy doing awesome things you're too young to understa- oh wait, this is the seventh years... Okay, well I was busy finding a way to slap that poltergeist."

It was love at first sight. Everything about him, from his lazy demeanor to his dislike of Peeves demanded that everybody love him. He's not that great. A strange twinge of envy flashed in my mind, like Tom was jealous of Mertenson.

I rolled my eyes, although part of me doubted Tom knew that.

"Now then. This is Defense Against the Dark Arts, and you're going to be learning more about the Dark Arts and how to fight them. Some of you, mostly those of you in Dumbledore's Army, don't need this class that much. Still have to take it. First, we're going to be talking about werewolves..." and from there the topic at hand became more and more in-depth. At the end of class, when we are all packing up to go, Professor Mertenson spoke up. "Ginny. A word?" Confused, I stopped, dropping my bag back on my chair.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Congratulations on your fame. You are now one of the best students I've had, simply because you fought so hard at the battle of Hogwarts. That being the case, you will be expected to be my dueling partner. Obviously you've got great skill if you're still alive, and dating Harry Potter."

It was strange to hear Harry's name. My mind flashed to him, images of him stalking through my room in some pathetic attempt to feel me. I imagined him sitting at the dining table, writing a letter about how much he missed me. Stop. Please. Anymore sappy love scenes and I'm bound to vomit. Or whatever it is I can do in this state. For the most part, Tom was right, but that didn't change the fact that I still felt guilty. I was technically cheating on him with someone that only existed in my mind.

"... Ms. Weasley? Are you there?" Professor Mertenson was snapping his fingers in my face, trying to get my attention.

"Oh. Yes, yeah I'm here."

"Anyway... yeah, be prepared to fight next class."

"Yes, Professor." I slowly turned and grabbed my bad, walking out of the class without looking back. 'Well... that was less awkward than expected.' It was still awkward to be thinking a conversation. Tom's reply was cool, almost menacing. Keep an eye on him. He knows something more than he should. With that, the discussion was over. I went to the Great Hall, and sat with some of the leftovers from Dumbledore's Army. We chatted incessantly about our days, nothing of particular interest coming up, then we helped each other with homework in the common room. I set about on the impossible length of essay McGonagall assigned. Tom proved to be more helpful than expected, flooding my mind with pictures and sensations related to the essay. Overall, having one of the most powerful dark wizards as your inner tutor was going to be helpful. At about midnight, with my essay finished and the fire dying down, it was time to go to bed. The common room was empty, save two sixth years in the corner snogging. Tom seemed bent about this, complaining about some mistake or another he saw in my paper 'Oh be quiet, you sound just like Hermione.' I started up the stairs, getting half way up the first flight when the stairs turned into a slide, and I slid back smoothly to the entrance.

The sixth years in the corner looked up as I fell back, their eyes closed in silent giggles. Disoriented, I looked back up the entrance to see that, yes, there was a slide in place of the usual stairs. It's a magical secret of the castle. Boys aren't allowed in the Girl's dormitories. The castle knows I'm in here, and they won't let you go up as long as I am. This was disconcerting to say the least. If the castle knew that my mind was filled with Tom Riddle, could others? Did I ever have this problem second year, when I was being possessed? 'This is different. Did this happen last time?' No, but I was in the diary then. I guess, now that I''m in your head, and have a more substantial physical form, the castle can sense me more easily I struggled to think through this, sitting in a couch by the dying fire. The magical defenses around the castle were centuries old. The castle was a fortress of powerful magic that not even Voldemort, at the height of his power, could have broken through. Needless to say, a seventeen year old slightly-above-average witch wasn't going to be able to outsmart it.

Then I remembered something. He exists because I want him to. I was in the middle of talking to him, so he existed then. When I was on my way to the dormitory last night, he lay dormant, my ind sealed to him. I needed to close my mind and not let him exist as much as he did. I needed to seal my mind from his touch. Crap.

I sat on the chair for another half hour, trying not to think of him, ignoring his thoughts like the buzz of a mosquito by my ear. When the staircase reformed, I began walking, taking extra care to not think of him. At my door my defenses weakened, and the slide reformed, but with the door open and my hand on the knob, I was able to pull myself into the room. Adrenaline pumping through my system(once again) made it impossible to sleep, so I spent the next two hours practicing hiding my mind from him. It was difficult work, but necessary.

When I'd finally managed to seal my mind from him for more than five minutes, I was exhausted. Good Night. He was fuming. There was a mild fury coursing through me, although "mild" may be putting it too lightly. This was powerful, cold, and it still felt like only a portion of what he was capable of. At the same time, it felt weak, like it took strength to summon his anger. Like his touch was slipping away. I'd forgotten that he exists because I want him to. Hiding his existence was necessary for me, but hiding him too long would end him. Talk about a double-edged sword.

Three days later, I got my first letter from Harry. As expected, it was full of the sad groveling, the "romantic" lines, the declarations of love. Disgusting, as they had been in person. I reached the bottom of the letter and saw something of note.

Ginny, I've talked with McGonagall. She said that my coming to the

school was allowed and acceptable. I will be visiting by the end of the week

and cannot wait to hold you in my arms. Until then, each moment apart is

just another moment of agony for me.

All my love,

Harry

Since today was Thursday, this meant that Harry was due tomorrow. In one day I would be smothered, possibly for the entire weekend, one I'd devoted to homework and "experimenting" with the "you can feel me but I have no presence" thing Tom told me about. So I was going to be stuck with Harry and desperately horny for the entire weekend. Both aspects of this weekend sounded like absolute hell. I contemplated the upcoming arrival of the famous Harry Potter, and his unbearable wounded puppy style of love making. Ginny. And suddenly my hormones were raging, just like that first night when he spoke through Harry. Tom was snapping me out of my teenage trance, alerting me to the end of yet another History of Magic class.

Ever since that first night, Tom hadn't physically manifested, despite my wishes. Although Tom worried about tipping of Mertenson, I tried my best to summon him without the professor knowing. Forty minutes into class, and not even Tom's black eyes were visible.

"Ms. Weasley, would you come and help me demonstrate?" Mertenson's voice cut clearly through the fog of my demands, and I found myself in front of the class for reasons I can't quite remember. Apparently(and this was explained after putting the fire out), I was supposed to properly demonstrate how to use a Shield Charm to seal someone in. The curse Mertenson used blasted a hole in the wall behind me, ignited several papers, and singed the ends of my hair. Chaos erupted fast.

"Well... seems someone wasn't paying attention. Oh well." With a sweep of his wand, everything was put back in its place, and the fires were put out. "That'll be all for the day. Please practice your Shield Charms, and be ready to be tested."

I left the room in embarrassment, keeping my head bent in hopes of not being stopped. I looked up when Mrs. Norris crossed my path, and looked around to find myself in the hall with the Room of Requirement. I turned around, and fell on my butt. Standing before me was a suit of armor, like all the others. It was freshly polished, reflecting everything around it. And things that weren't. Tom was reflected in the suit of armor, sitting on some unseen chair, flipping through a book.

"How are you reading when there are no books in my mind?"

"Oh, it's not a book. It's a memory of a book... how can you see me?"

"You're in the armor... Well, not in, but on."

"Ah." He tried to step closer, but when he moved out of the edges of the armor, he disappeared.

"I think I can only see you in reflections. At least in the physical world."

"Ah," he said, disappointed. He stayed his head in the armor, his eyes unfocusing as he thought more on the subject. "We'll have more time to think about this later. That cat always creeped me out. Let's go."

At his request, we left, heading towards the Great Hall.

"Hi Ginny." said a voice behind me. It was Luna. She had been walking out of Charms class, her shoes missing yet again. "How have you been?"
"Fairly well, just getting by in classes. It feels weird being back. How have you been?"
"Pretty lonely. I never realized how much all the seventh years meant until they left. I suppose that's the nature of these things, to not realize how much they matter until they're gone."

Her comment hit home. Since returning to the castle, I'd realized how empty and quiet it was. There were few rowdy discussions at the dinner table, no jokes, no secret missions to go on. Most of my days thus far had been lived in my head, with Tom as my only company. I missed them all, Hermione, Ron, even Harry a little.

"Oh, Luna, that reminds me: Harry's coming to visit tomorrow." Instantly, her face lit up, happiness pouring from every pore as she thought more on Harry's arrival. I envied her.

"That'd be lovely. When is he expected?"

"I'll let you know when he gets here, okay?"

"Okay. Can't wait. Well, I've got to go find my shoes. Have a nice day."And with that Luna was gone.

That night, I dreamed of Harry. He and I were dancing at some kind of yule ball. I close my eyes to enjoy the sounds of the music, and he kisses me. I open them again, and in his place is standing Tom Riddle, his wavy black hair shifting in the breeze we make, and his eyes closed as he dance in circles, enjoying the strings of a discordant waltz.

I woke up to somebody violently shaking me. "He's here he's here he's here" was all this random someone was saying. After three years, "he" typically meant Voldemort, and I reached for my wand instinctively, pointing it at the shaker's face. It took a few slow seconds to realize that the "he" in question was Harry. I dressed in preparation for school, and went downstairs, where Harry sat in a chair by the window, enjoying the glow of dawn.

"I've missed you so much." He got up and moved towards me, pulling me in a gentle embrace and holding me firmly against his chest. I hugged him back, although with less passion. He lifted my chin up and kissed me on the lips, slipping his tongue between my teeth. I closed my eyes.

"This is almost disgusting to watch." I snapped my eyes open, and saw Tom Riddle sitting where Harry just was. This Tom, however, was no reflection. This was a physical manifestation, the thing I'd spent so many minutes trying to make in Defense Against the Dark Arts. When Harry and I pulled away, Tom stood up and grabbed my opposite hand.

"It seems I was right about spending time with Potter."