McGonagall told me what you are.

Tom recognised the writing as Ginny's, even though it was shaky, and even though she seemed to be putting a lot more pressure on the quill than she usually would. It was a wonder she hadn't gone through the page. Tom lifted his copy of the diary, and reached for a quill.

And what's that? he asked her.

You're the Heir, she wrote. And Hermione said the Heir is You-Know-Who, so that means you're him-

Clever little thing, aren't you? he wrote, but didn't think he sarcasm would be conveyed very well through the page.

It's been you all along, you're the one that attacked Colin, and-

Wrong. I didn't attack your little friend. You-

You can't trick me, Tom. He could imagine her face, red, and angry, maybe teary. He could imagine the way her hand must have tightened around the quill, the way her eyes must be about ready to shoot sparks.

No trick, he wrote. I haven't attacked anyone. I don't have a body, remember?

There's the monster, though. If you can talk to me, you can talk to it, make it do what you want.

Or that I could make you do what I want, he said. Ever been tired, and achy, and had odd dreams, or had bits of your memory seemingly missing, Ginny?

There was silence for a long few seconds, and Tom would have given anything be in her head for that. Ginny's distress would be as nice as Harry's, he was certain. Then, Tom blinked, a little startled as a small hole appeared in the page she was writing on, and the slightest stabbing sensation went through his thigh. It healed itself at once, obviously, and the sting faded from his leg. He frowned. It seemed her quill had gone through the page.

Please don't, Ginny, he wrote. That hurt. Holes began to appear in the diary in quick succession, and Tom felt them like little pinches, all over his arms and back and neck and legs. He snarled under his breath, and launched himself out of the diary. Ginny seemed ready for him; there were walls up in her mind, walls of fear and anger. Once, Tom might have soothed them down, but he'd had quite enough of Ginny for the moment, so he put pressure on them, and kept it there. They shattered, and Ginny's mind flared with pain. What part of 'Please don't' did you fail to understand, Ginny? he asked.

GET OUT! she shouted at him, but her voice was shaky with tears. He'd hurt her, he knew. The thought pleased him. She started to stab the diary with her quill again – and it was obviously just brute force behind it, because the tip of her quill had snapped and cracked. The pinching sensation started again, and Tom endured it… and shared it, so that she felt it too. She winced – he felt that, barely – under the pain of his intrusion, but kept at it. Tom didn't think there was anything sweeter than her horror, as she watched the pages fix themselves. She started trying to shred it, and the page would tear, but fix itself before she could get the page out.

She was sobbing now, quietly, and one of the girls knocked on the bathroom door.

"Weasley?" she called. "Are you all right? I need the bathroom." Tom could feel Ginny weighing up her chances. She'd just decided to call for help, when Tom seized control, and forced her mouth shut.

Say you're fine, he said. He could feel her fury. Do it now, or we'll go out there and put her in the hospital wing with Creevey.

We're not doing anything, Ginny snapped at him. You're getting out of my head, now-

And he'd give her credit for trying. The broken shards of her wall came together again, into a barrier that tried to push him out, but Tom waved it aside. Not easily – his visit into Potter's mind had tired him, somewhat – but he knew Ginny, and he knew her mind and how it worked. The barrier shattered again, and Ginny whimpered.

"Weasley?"

Say you're fine, Tom told her. Now.

No.

Tom braced himself, and loosened his hold on her jaw.

"Fine," he forced out through her mouth. Ginny was fighting with everything, trying to take control back, but he had her now. He was stronger, and he couldn't lose now. "Just stubbed my toe. I'll be out in a bit."

You can't! Ginny shouted at him. This is my body, you can't-

Watch me, Tom said. He forced her to stand. It wasn't nearly as easy as when she was sleeping, because here, she was fighting him, but at least he didn't have to shield her. There was something so lovely about letting her see everything that was happening. He picked up the diary with her shaking hand.

Stop it! she shouted. She was throwing all of her mental strength against his, but it wasn't enough.

Make me, he said. She sobbed internally; Tom wouldn't let a sound of it pass her lips. Poor Ginny. Hatred boiled in her, stronger than he'd thought she was capable of. He tucked the diary under her arm, and forced her to the door. This was dangerous, he knew, but it was more dangerous to stay in the bathroom. People might ask questions. One of her brothers might send Granger to check on her, and if Granger was suspicious, or Granger was worried, Granger would talk. He knew she would. He opened the door, and Georgina brushed past, looking impatient, and closed the door. Tom walked Ginny toward her bed.

"Demelza," she said, and loudly, as he concentrated on dodging a loose shoe, and Tom jammed her mouth shut before anything else could come out. When he was confident he had control, he forced out a "Goodnight." He needn't have bothered; all he got was a sleepy mumble from inside the other girl's curtains.

He put Ginny into her bed, and had her draw the curtains.

Sleep, he told her.

No.

How very predictable, he sighed. It was frustrating. If she was asleep, Tom could keep her asleep by blocking all of her senses, but he couldn't put her to sleep – at least, he didn't think he could. He supposed he'd just have to wait for her to tire herself out. Well, if we're staying up, we might as well talk. Do you have anything you want to talk about? Ginny ignored him, and Tom had her tuck the diary under her pillow. This is going to be very dull if you just sit here silently.

If I was asleep I wouldn't be talking either, Ginny said. She would have folded her arms and put her nose in the air, but Tom still had control of that, and wouldn't let her.

Ginny cried all night, and silently. She didn't think she'd ever been so scared, or betrayed, or angry. She'd known McGonagall wouldn't give them a name if she hadn't been sure, but part of her had hoped that it was wrong. That Tom – her friend Tom – wasn't, couldn't be the Heir, that he couldn't be You-Know-Who.

But he hadn't even tried to talk his way out of it, or deny it, and then he'd told her that it was her – and she couldn't see why he'd lie about that, so she thought it might have been true – and then she'd known it was true, because he'd proven that he could walk and talk for her, that she was nothing more than a puppet, and he'd hurt her, and the diary hadn't even had a hole left in it, despite the fact that she'd stabbed it over and over with her quill. And now there was nothing she could do, she was trapped, a prisoner in her own body, and she couldn't believe she'd been so stupid.

She should have gone straight to Dumbledore or McGonagall, or even to one of her brothers or Hermione or Harry or Draco, and Tom wouldn't have even known that she knew. She wasn't sure what Tom wanted – from her, or from anyone – but she knew it couldn't be good, and that Harry was probably in danger, and Ron and Hermione and Draco, because they were Harry's friends.

She'd cried for all of them, because she couldn't help them right now, and they couldn't help her. She didn't know when or how this would all end, but if she survived it, and if her family did, what would they say? Mum and Dad would be so angry and disappointed, Percy would never be Head Boy because his little sister had been friends with You-Know-Who and had attacked people, and Ron would never talk to her again because she'd put Harry in danger. And Colin… when they woke Colin, what would he say? He'd be terrified of her, and she'd ruined his entire first year, with all the school he'd missed. And what if his family didn't let him come back to Hogwarts at all?

You've ruined everything, she told Tom. My family, my friends- and now I'm going to lose them all, because who will want anything to do with me after this?

Tom didn't respond. Ginny listened for him in her mind as best she could, and when he didn't respond, tried to move her arm. It moved, just the way she wanted it to. Tom, it seemed, was gone.

She didn't waste any time at all. She launched herself out of bed, snagging the diary and her wand from her bedside table as she went, and wiping her eyes with her other hand. She skidded out onto the stairs and took them two at a time. The fire was still going in the dark common room, and she threw the diary into it, and then turned around when she heard movement.

"Percy," she croaked. He was sitting in an armchair, with bags under his eyes, but looked alert all the same. He stood and moved toward her.

"Ginny," he said, staring past her into the fire, where the diary was. "That's the diary?"

Ginny stood, frozen for a few moments, wondering what to say. But then she remembered that Percy had seen the diary, in the summer, and must have put some of it together. He hadn't run from her yet, though, or tried to bind her. And Percy was a Prefect. He'd help her.

"Percy," she sobbed, "it's him, he's in the diary, and he's made me do awful things- I have to- before he comes back, I have to-" Percy wasn't an overly affectionate person – certainly he'd never hugged her as much as Bill or Charlie – but he hugged her now, and Ginny clung to him for dear life. "I just want him gone," she said. "Please, Percy-"

"I might need the diary," Percy said, with a rueful look at it.

"You can't, you don't understand-"

"Only to give it to Professor Dumbledore," Percy said gently. "I'll say I found it, and recognised the name. You can even stay here, that way, they'll never even know you were involved-"

Ginny took a deep breath. She went to the fire and pulled the diary out with a pair of tongs. She wasn't entirely surprised to see that it was as good as new. Percy held his hand out for it, but Ginny held it away from him. "He'll know," she sniffed. She was a Gryffindor, she could be brave, she had to be. "I-I'll hold it until we get there, and then you can have it. I'll- hide or- something. I don't want them to know that I-" Percy took her hand, and squeezed, and led the way toward the portrait hole.

"Where are you going, dears?" the Fat Lady asked.

"My sister's not feeling well," Percy told her, without even hesitating. "I'm taking her to the Hospital Wing."

"Be careful, then," the Fat Lady said.

"Thank you," Percy replied, and tugged Ginny's hand gently to keep her walking.

For a moment, Ginny thought everything might be all right. Then, Ginny felt Tom, trying to get back into her head.

No! No, no, no, no, no-

She scrunched up her face as he burst in, and felt him seeping into her arms and legs, felt rough, phantom fingers take control of her mouth.

NO! She tried to tell Percy to run, but Tom wouldn't let her.

Haven't we been naughty? Tom sounded furious. He kept her hand in Percy's – and she tried to squeeze it, but that didn't work either – and kept her walking. I don't like it when you try to ruin my diary, Ginny. Not at all.

I don't like you, Ginny told him.

How did you force me out?

Not telling, Ginny said, though she didn't know. She'd thought he'd just left on his own, or lost focus.

How? he demanded. Ginny tried to say something to Percy while Tom was distracted, or to throw herself on the ground, but neither worked. Her traitorous feet just kept moving, one after the other, over and over. And where are you going? Off to see the Headmaster? There was a bit of fear in his voice, and that comforted Ginny.

No, Ginny said. Percy came to see me, and I said I wasn't feeling well, so he said he'd take me to the hospital wing-

With the diary. Tom's voice was hard and flat, and she knew he didn't believe her.

I didn't want to leave it where Georgina or Demelza might see it. I couldn't leave you near them- Tom was silent, probably trying to work out whether she was being truthful or not. Then, Ginny's mouth opened.

"How long until we're there?" Tom asked, with her voice.

"Not long now," Percy said. "I hope he's still awake, though I'm sure, given the circumstances, he'll be understanding if he's not-"

Madam Pomfrey's not a he, Tom said angrily. You lied to me! How much does your brother know?

Enough, Ginny said fiercely. Enough that if you hurt me, or say anything, he'll know and he'll go straight to Dumbledore. That was true, and she'd learned enough from Fred and George to know that bluffs were best mixed with truth. And he knows about me, so if you try to draw my wand, he'll put a Body Bind on me, and still go straight to the Headmaster. And that was the bluff, but Tom seemed to be believing it. Ginny could taste victory. It's over, she said.

Tom had her stop walking, and Percy looked back at her in askance. She wanted to tell him to Stun and Disarm her and go, but the words didn't come.

"I'm scared," was what she heard herself say instead. "I just want this to all be over, Percy."

"It will be," he said. "I promise. In an hour, you'll be tucked up in bed, nice and safe, and we can forget this ever happened." Sometimes it frustrated Ginny that Percy was so certain of himself, but right now, Ginny loved him for it. She just wondered what Tom was playing at.

"Do you promise?" Tom asked through her.

"Promise." Percy gave her hand another little squeeze, and Tom yanked hers free and grabbed her wand. Percy frowned, his hand going to his own wand.

"Percy, look!" Tom had her gesture – at what Ginny could see was nothing – and Percy, poor, poor Percy, who'd never have fallen for something like that if it was the twins saying it (because he knew better than to listen to them) spun around.

"Stupefy," Tom said, and Percy sagged to the ground without a word. Ginny thought she felt her heart break.

Now what? Tom asked her. He stepped forward, and rolled Percy over with her foot. Percy wasn't even frowning, though his glasses were askew. He hadn't even suspected.

Leave him alone! she snarled at Tom. She fought for control, and for a moment, her hand twitched and she thought she'd won, but then Tom clamped down on everything and Ginny felt control slip away again.

I can't do that, Ginny, he said. He knows too much – you said so yourself. Ginny's body knelt down, presumably to give Tom a better look at Percy's unconscious face.

Make him forget tonight, then, Ginny said desperately. She didn't like Tom's tone, not at all. And then Percy would still hear the name tomorrow – everyone would be talking about Tom – and he'd still remember the diary from summer, and maybe he'd go straight to Dumbledore.

It wouldn't be enough, Tom said. Memory charms can be broken by strong feelings, or visual associations, and you would be one of them. I can't risk it… Something more… permanent-

You don't mean-

I'm afraid so, Ginny, Tom said, though he didn't sound at all sad. He just knows too much to be allowed to wake up.

You can't kill him, Ginny said. You can't!

And why not? Ginny didn't think begging would do Percy any good, so she racked her aching brain for something, anything-

Because then they'll know, she said. They'll know it was you that did it, and the Fat Lady knows we left together. She'll tell Dumbledore, and once they have me, they have you.

Clever, Tom said, and Ginny couldn't tell if he meant it or not; either way, he sounded annoyed. I could have the basilisk do it.

They'd still know. Ginny's heart was racing, and she tried not to sound desperate, but if she could convince Tom of this much, Percy might still have a chance. He's a pureblood. There's no reason for him to be the monster's target. He'd said basilisk, just before. Ginny stored that away for later. You can't do anything to him at all, actually. If you do, Madam Pomfrey will wonder why he didn't come in with me.

Heart still racing, it occurred to Ginny that, while Tom was the Heir, and was You-Know-Who, he wasn't that much older than her. He was just a boy, and Ginny had enough brothers to know that boys didn't always think things through, particularly when they were angry, and Tom was angry at the moment. She could feel his fury bubbling in her head, adding to her splitting headache.

Tom was silent for a long while, and Ginny hoped he'd forget about Percy, and that Percy would wake up before Tom could make up his mind. He didn't. Tom lifted Ginny's wand and pointed it at her still unconscious brother. She could only watch, helpless and sick, with her heart in her throat as he made a funny little movement and said, "Imperio."

Talk, Tom told Ginny, while Madam Pomfrey looked on, concerned. He was exhausted from fighting her all day, but couldn't afford to let her know that, and she'd realise if he had to control her for much longer. But one misstep, and I'll take control back, and I'll change my mind about your brother. Percy was off to Myrtle's bathroom to stare into the mirror and wait for the basilisk to petrify him. Much as Tom hated to admit it, Ginny was right that killing him would stand out. But, the basilisk also would have instructions – delivered, hopefully coherently – by Percy, to roam the school tonight and petrify or kill – Tom didn't care – anyone else it came across, muggleborn or otherwise. That way, Percy's attack wouldn't stand out at all, but it would serve its purpose; by the time Percy could be restored with mandrakes, Ginny would be dead, Tom would have a body, and it wouldn't matter what Percy knew.

"I-" Ginny hesitated, apparently surprised to have her voice back. It was too late for Tom to change his mind and kill Percy, but Ginny didn't know that, so he knew she'd behave. "I've just got the most awful headache." Tom was almost impressed with her composure. He'd expected tears at the very least, and maybe a tantrum at worst, but she'd been oddly silent. He preferred her that way, it was just… unnerving.

"Drink this," Madam Pomfrey said, pushing a glass of water into Ginny's hand. "And I'll be back with something for the pain. This is the fourth time this year that you've been to me with headaches." Madam Pomfrey started toward her office. "I don't recall ever having your brothers for it, but did either of your parents ever have trouble with migraines?"

"No," Ginny said. "I don't think so. I can write and ask, though."

"Might be worth a trip to St Mungo's at some point," Madam Pomfrey called, sounding thoughtful. Tom could hear her rummaging through her potions cabinet. "Just to get them to have a look at you."

"Maybe over the summer," Ginny said quietly, and Madam Pomfrey made an affirming noise. Tom wondered if Ginny had realised that she wouldn't get another summer.