"Go home? You can't just go home, not now!" Tom stands by the fire place in the Room of Requirement. It's become their sort of shelter from the world.

Many a day, Ginny would wind up skipping Charms or Herbology and she and Tom would sit by the fire, reading through books of Dark spells. Progress in the Room, though, was sometimes scarce. Whenever Ginny would ask a question ("Tom, this jinx, here. Have you ever used it? It doesn't really go into detail about the effects…") the phantom boy would go into great detail when answering. More than once he ended up telling Ginny personal stories he'd never really shared with anyone else in order to properly explain something ("I used that particular jinx a few times, yes. Once when a peaky Ravenclaw girl pulled me aside in my fifth year to confess her undying love- it made her feel as if her hair and clothes were on fire if she ever made eye contact with me. She could even see it, too, if I recall. Needless to say, Aribeth Bones never looked my way again," Ginny met his guffaw with a nervous chuckle.)

Tonight, however, he is in no mood for stories. The light from the flames illuminates his face, but somehow his eyes still seem dark, almost frightening. Tom's always frightening when he's angry.

"Tom, I need this. We've made no progress and I need a break from all of the research. You know, we've gone through half the Restricted Section in the last two weeks? Do you know how much reading that is?" Ginny stomps her foot as she stands from the large chair in protest.

Tom Riddle closes his eyes and creases his brow in frustration. A week at that pathetic hobble Ginny calls a home would mean a week away from research, from finding the cure as Tom likes to think of it. It would also mean a week away from Potter. In the few days since that night in the common room Ginny's been spending quite a lot of time with him and it hasn't been a pleasant experience. Aside from being his 'future' self's greatest enemy and the man who killed him, the boy was infuriating. He was self-centered and terribly inconsistent. One moment he's hanging onto Ginny's sleeve, the next he can't spare two words in her direction, spurning her for that oaf and his Mudblood woman.

Is it possible for one to have a headache if they don't have a physical brain? Tom wonders. He plops down on the love seat next to Ginny's chair, silent.

Almost pleadingly (although she hopes it's not very apparent), Ginny kneels down next to him and clasps her hands together. He glances down at her doe-like brown eyes, which Ginny has widened as far as possible for the full puppy-dog-effect, and scoffs.

Silence.

"I've decided," Tom says in an overly kingly fashion, "that you may go- only if you give your word that when we return you'll go straight to the Restricted Section to continue looking."

Ginny can't help but to let out a small "yes!" in triumph. Two fights won in one week; it's progress.

Ooooo

Ginny lets out a sigh as she sets her bag down on a cold stone bench in the large courtyard. Having just gotten out of Herbology, she feels slightly dirty but refreshed; hacking at a squirming Fire Vine, Ginny finds, is strangely therapeutic. She stretches and sits herself down next to her bag,

"Hello, Ginny," Luna Lovegood greets. "How've you been?"

"Luna," Ginny smiles. "It's been ages. I'm good, and you?"

"Well, thank you. And you?" Luna turns her attention to just behind Ginny.

Snapping her head around, the redhead sees that the tall 'ex' Slytherin show himself. He gives the airy Ravenclaw a curt nod, but doesn't say anything.

Ginny lets out a weak laugh. "Him? He's mopey, as usual. I'm going home for a week and he's not too happy about it."

"Oh," Luna scrunches up her face, and leans in to Tom in a conspiratorial manor. "I'm sure you'll find the Burrow lovely. I've been there quite a few times- there're hardly any Nargles and there're quite a few lovely places to haunt since the ghoul left the attic."

"It's true," giggles Ginny. "Perhaps you could fill the position of ghoul."

Before Tom can scold Ginny for comparing him to a lowly creature like a ghoul, Luna, in all seriousness, says, "Oh, no; he couldn't possibly. He's much too handsome to be a ghoul. Don't you think so, Ginny?"

"Wha.. er, well," sputters Ginny. Of course, she would never admit out loud (and especially not in front of him) that Tom Riddle was really quite handsome.

"Don't you have an imaginary animal to observe?" Tom bites hatefully.

"Hey," Ginny scolds as Luna smiles and replies with a fleeting, "I suppose."

For almost a whole minute, the trio are frozen; Tom looking between Luna and Ginny with a stern face, Luna not really looking anywhere, and Ginny glaring at Tom.

"Well," Ginny breaks the silence and gestures to the castle doors. "It's about time for lunch. Luna, want to go together?"

"Alright," Luna falls into step with Ginny, and waves goodbye to the fading figure of Tom Riddle as they make their way to the Great Hall.

"He seems like a bit better," Luna comments as they come into view of the large, ornate doors that lead to the Great Hall. "More open, somehow."

"Really? I don't see it."

"Perhaps not, but if you put a Red-Horned Gerli Frog in water and slowly bring it to a boil, it won't notice it's being cooked alive."

"What?" Ginny asks as they come to a stop in front of the four large wooden tables of the Hogwarts Houses.

Luna only gives a small shrug and skips over to the Ravenclaw table.

I will never understand her, Ginny sighs. She takes her place at the Gryffindor table (Since starting things back up with Harry again, he's insisted she sit by Hermione and Ron, as well) and mumbles greetings to the Golden Trio.

"Hey, Gin," Harry smiles, and squeezes her hand briefly. She flashes a grin before picking out what she wants for lunch.

"So," Hermione starts conversationally, "anything interesting in classes, Ginny?"

Ginny gives the bushy haired witch a short "not really," which is a whole word more than her usual answers, and Hermione seems to take it as a good thing.

"Shmo muof erv og," Ron spouts, little pieces of chewed up chicken and spittle flying from his full mouth.

"Swallow, Ronald," Hermione rolls her eyes. Harry chuckles at his friend's lack of manners.

The freckled boy made a great show of swallowing all of his food before addressing his younger sister, "Mum said in her last letter that you're goin' home on Friday."

"What?" Harry's eyes find Ginny's and he giver her a questioning look. "When were you going to tell me?"

"Today, actually. Thanks, Ron." Her brother grunts his 'you're welcome' and shoves more potato in his mouth.

"Do you have to go?" Harry's green eyes look into hers, looking large and sad.

"Yes," an exasperated sigh escapes her mouth. Unnoticed, of course.

Ginny's 'holiday' isn't discussed further. Nothing is discussed, really, and when lunch is over, Ginny is only too happy to scurry off to Charms class.

Ooooo

Harry, despite his disappointed expression that rather looks like a puppy, is understanding and sends Ginny off to the Burrow with well wishes for everyone there, and even walks her to McGonagall's office, where she is scheduled to travel by floo to her home.

Ginny hugs him goodbye and takes a fist full of floo powder. As she steps into the bright green flames, Harry and McGonagall's faces disappear, and Ginny's flying past countless grates and fireplaces.

The spinning ceases and Ginny steps out of the flames, into the Burrow, and is engulfed by her mother's arms. She releases Ginny from her choke-hold embrace and looks at her as if she'd been gone for years.

"Hi, Mum," she grants her mother with a tight smile. The older witch doesn't notice Ginny's tense attitude, and hugs her once more. "Your father will be home in an hour, dear. He's gotten off early today just to see you come home. Now, why don't you go up in your room, set your bags down and relax until he arrives? I'll have lunch ready in a mo'."

Another weak smile and Ginny heads up stairs, into her pastel, girly room and closes the door behind her.

She throws he small travel bag onto her bed, where it lands with a soft 'thump.'

"Hard day?" Tom drawls sarcastically. He's leaning (he's always leaning on something all haphazardly, isn't he? Ginny idly wonders) on the wall near her bed, looking down at her.

Ginny rolls her eyes. "Yes, as a matter of fact. I haven't had the best relationship with my family in the last few months, if you hadn't noticed. This really could help the strain or hinder it. And, really, my family is all I've got," she sits on her bed, her eyes looking downwards. "What've I got in Hogwarts? I'm mostly only friends with Hermione- or was- and the relationship with Harry is rocky at best. He thinks it'll all go back to normal, but, really, I'm not even sure this is going to work. He's not exactly attentive. My brothers are useless- they completely ignore me unless my virginity or life is in danger and I'm not sure I want to be the type of girl who goes after blokes left and right to get attention."

"Why do you need all of them?" Tom asks, staring at Ginny with a neutral expression.

"Why wouldn't I? Tom, everyone needs someone. Even you had people at your beck and call every hour of the day when you were alive."

"Who's to say you have no one? Just because these heathens don't appreciate you," Tom says smoothly.

"Well, if I don't have those 'heathens,' then who do I have?" Ginny's voice gains a frantic edge. "Even you'll leave me eventually, and you're bloody well attached to my soul."

"And if I don't?"

"Don't what?"

"Leave you," Tom replies immediately. His eyes bore into Ginny's and she has no idea what he's thinking- she nearly never does. He's always so hot and cold- but she wishes…

"I'm not sure what you mean," she whispers.

Tom opens his mouth to reply but is cut off by a shrill, "Ginny, your father's home! Come down and get lunch, dear!"

A/N: Aoooohhhh, my Salazar. Guys. Hi. Haven't seen you in forever! Did you do something to your hair? I like that look on you. Keep it.

So, what did you think? I'm finally nudging Tom a wee bit harder into the romance, I've decided. Yes! OOC for everyone! I'm sorry, I've been so writer-blockey and then the whole issue in my other story (a DG fic) has made me all depressed. Like, that whole "woe, is me! I'll never write again! I'm shit at everything!" phase that everyone goes through.

I re wrote this chapter… gosh, like, three times. Ha, this makes me giggle: In the second version, Ginny wakes up Friday morning all groggy and basically strips in front of Tom, changing from her nightgown to regular clothes. And he notices. Ginny, however, all doped up on "I need more SLEEP!" doesn't. Ha. It was cut out. I thought it was too much.

Thanks SO much to the reviewers of last chapter, SourSugarQuills (Didn't laugh? How so? He looked like my school's old football coach… ah, well. I won't fault you.), Anonymous, Padmeani8, Anonymous (again), Victoria Kathleen Wright, Anonymous (I know this name somewhere…), Anonymous (Fourth time? I like you, too. Really, guys, if this is just one person… *cough*… if it's, like five different people… just type SOMETHING in there… Like 'BananaFanaFoFana' or 'ReadBetweenMyLines is So Sexy.'), Aisha, the ever lovely CupCake, Insanity75, and readingandwriting (I just thought of something. We're, like, User-Name-Relatives. Ha. Cool.)

Thank you, sorry for the wait. Remember to review, review, take a break and review again. Every time I get one it's like an extra life to my Link… or a mushroom to my Mario! I play too many video games. I really don't, I haven't touched one in two months. Seven step program.

All my ink and love, (I need an actual ending, a concrete signature to say "the note ends here!" … I like this one. I may keep it.),

Read.