(A/N: So my friends Hephaestusdaughter and vexhiveu1 have been pestering me about this at school, so here it is. My second Ginny fic, I vaguely remember promising a certain friend of mine named Xx-Artemis75-xX that I'd make another Ginny fic. So all my friends out there, enjoy and R&R. Especially those three, I made this for you!)

Tom Riddle was patiently sitting on the foot of his ancestor Salazar Slytherin's statue in the Chamber of Secrets; waiting for The Boy Who Lived to come. As Tom sat, he thought about his perfect plan. Honestly, Tom couldn't believe how beautifully it had worked; tricking a gullible, naïve little girl to do his bidding through his old school diary was pure genius. You'd think the girl would expect it was filled to the brim with Dark Magic and hand it into a teacher, but she was so desperate for a friend that it never crossed her mind. Now, after months of meticulous planning, all he had to do was wait for Harry Potter.

A small groan interrupted Tom's train of thought. He turned to face the stupid little girl whom without, none of this would've happened. Little Ginevra Weasley was lying on the damp, gray stone chamber floor in front of him. He stalked towards poor Ginny and studied her. Her once vibrant red hair now resembled a dying fire, and her frayed hand-me-down robes were dirty, bloody and tattered. Her light brown eyes seemed dreamy, but not so tranquil, it was as if they were witnessing a never-ending nightmare. They probably were. What Tom found amusing, was that in Ginny's arm, clutched closely to her body, was the little battered black diary that started it all.

Ginny looked into Tom's emerald-green eyes as he stared back into her light brown ones, and a single tear streams down her pale face. Tom felt compelled to wipe the tear away, and as he reached down to do so, he suddenly remembered Tom wasn't necessarily human, still only a memory and transparent, he would just phase through her. But before he could stop himself, Tom's long fingers swept over Ginny's pale, cold skin and caressed her gaunt cheek. As he did this, the small light of hope that glinted in Ginny's eyes disappeared, and she softly continued to cry. These tears, however, were not tears of sadness; they were tears of pain. Ginny was slowly dying as Tom grew stronger. He once told her that death was like falling to sleep, but, though she did feel drowsy, Ginny had no intention of dying, and trying to fight the fatigue was hurting her. Because the moment her eyes slid shut, Tom was free to drain the rest of her life. And she made herself swear she'd never fall asleep.

Tom, on the other hand, was quite impressed with how long Ginevra managed to stay alive. Maybe he underestimated his stupid little girl, but, nevertheless, Tom could not rise at full power if she didn't fall asleep. And the question rung in his head, how was he going to get her to sleep? Tom sat himself at Ginevra's side and picked up her clammy hand, then began to think. He remembered that muggles would sing lullabies to their children to make them fall asleep, as his mother once did for him before she died, and most of the time it worked.

Tom didn't want to sing, but he was desperate. So Tom, still holding Ginny's hand, picked Ginny off the ground so her waist wasn't touching, and placed her head on his arm, then he cradled her rocking gently back and forth. In a charismatic tone, he softly sang to her,

"Go to sleep, my love.Let your eyes forget.
The love you know
will not leave you.
Rest forevermore."

As Tom sang, the sewer water kept the time, and his own body was like a metronome. He noticed Ginevra shiver, and re-secured her robes for better warmth. Then he tucked a few strands of red hair behind her tiny ear, and continued to sing.

"Go to sleep, my girl.
Close you eyes for now.
This pain you feel
comes from your heart.
Let it slip away."

Tom could feel the faint heart beat of Ginevra's become steadier, and her chest was rising up and down gently. Just looking at the girl made Tom feel tired.

"Go to sleep, I ask.
The deed is almost done.
This world you see
waves goodbye now.
Rest your little head."

Ginny's eyes were fighting to stay open, but they were loosing as she slowly nodded on and off.

"Soon enough, you'll be forgiven,
but for now, dear child of mine.
Oh, my Ginny..."

Tom leaned his head forward until his forehead touched her's and whispered the last line.

"Sleep tight."

Ginny's eyes finally gave in and closed, and her head went limp. Tom ceased rocking and gently lowered Ginny back onto the ground, but he never let go. He held her hand for what only seemed like minutes until, with one final squeeze from Ginny's hand, it went limp as well. Tom placed the hand as if it was as precious as gold on Ginny's diaphragm and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. Tom stood, his throat tight with tears, and took one final glance at Ginny Weasley.

With tears threatening to spill, Tom whispered to the unconscious body, "Goodnight Ginevra."

...

When Harry Potter arrived too late to find the body of the youngest Weasley, The Boy Who Will Be Voldemort cried.