Shut Up Tom

a/n: This was started at 1-2o'clock in the morning. Really. While listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkin Park, and of course, the gods Savage Garden. Any insane-ness is the result of that late hour, but this will probably be some of my best work. However, most of it is due to Tom screaming in my ear at this late hour, telling me to get a move on, or I will NEVER remember this good plot.

disclaimer: Ginny Weasley is not mine, nor is the Slytherin God...err Tom Riddle(how did that happen? Tom, stop possessing my typing skills. Tom:*sulks*), Harry Potter, or anything else from that world that makes a appearance in this story. It all belongs to Her Majesty J.K. Rowling. Alanis Morissette owns herself. Oh, and the book Virginia is reading belongs to Echo from her Gryffindor Girls story.

Virginia Weasley looked around the common room, taking in all the happiness. It was the day after the winter holidays, and everyone still had a slight aura of Christmas Spirit around them. Except you... whispered a voice in her mind

Shut up Tom. She internally glared at the disembodied voice in her head. Yes, it was the one and only Tom Marvolo Riddle, future Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Voldemort. He was also, the person who had possessed her, and caused the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco four years ago.

Continuing her scan of the scarlet and gold (she nearly grimaced from the colors. How she hated them, let her count the ways...) that littered the Gryffindor common room, she caught sight of the Dream Team. Namely, Hermione "I'm a prefect, so bow down to me" Granger, Ron "I'm so whipped by my girlfriend the prefect, that I make circus lions look free" Weasley (one of her numerous brothers), and Harry "The Boy-Who-Lived" (what was with the ministry, the newspaper, or whoever handed out nicknames and hyphens?) Potter.

It seemed that, like they were prone to do since becoming a couple last year, that Ron and Hermione were snogging. Harry, being the third wheel, and looking very disgusted at what his best friends were doing, was also looking around the common room, and caught sight of her. His eyes were pleadingly, obviously wanting someone to talk to. All Virginia did was smirk, one that could match the best of any Slytherin's.

Let him be alone, that'll do the prat some good, she thought, grinning wickedly at the thought.

I agree wholeheartedly. You've been alone most of the past few years; it won't hurt him to have some time to himself for twenty minutes. Virginia snorted, which, to any other person would think she snorted to herself.

"Time to himself" you call it. Well, be that as it may, I don't think I get my wish of being left alone. She thought sadly as Harry walked over to her. IT seemed, like Golden Boy took her grin the wrong way. Virginia now lamented letting her thoughts show up on her face, no matter how true they were. "Hey Gin," the 'Great' Harry Potter greeted her. She looked up at him, "Hello Harry," she said wearily, looking back at her book, trying to get the hint across to him.

Why don't you just tell him to leave you the bloody hell alone, and that you are trying to study? Or at least you would be if I let you. *giggle*

Did you just giggle? And I thought I was losing it. Anyhow, wonderful as that option sounds, it is nothing that "sweet, wonderful, lonely, insane, doesn't-have-feelings, polite, Ginny Weasley" would do. Virginia informed him

Fine, but if he doesn't get the hint, don't complain to me.

"What are you reading Ginny?" Harry asked, sitting down next to her. He obviously didn't get the hint.

See I told you so, and look at that! He even got your name wrong, Vir-gin-ia.

Virginia sighed, both from being called the ever-so-childish "Ginny" and "Gin" that she got from every one except for Tom, Bill, and Percy (there was a reason they were her favorite brothers), and, secondly, from having to put down the oh-so-interesting Potions for Non Imbeciles by one Professor S. Snape.

First of all, Tom dearest, I am NEVER alone, no thanks you. Second of all, he's not the only one who gets my bloody name wrong, Thomas!

Oh, really? Who else gets it wrong? And don't call me Thomas! You're lucky I let you get away with even Tom.

Only nearly every member of my immediate family, and I'll call you anything I damn well please. She nearly screamed back to him in her head. "Ginny?" Harry asked, bringing her back to earth. "Oh, just a book for a potions essay I have to write," she finally answered Harry, trying not to look into his enchanting green eyes, so she could easily lie to him. How could she tell him that she was reading a book (and a fairly good one at that) by his least favorite teacher, because she felt like it?

And her being a Gryffindor, too! She thought absently before accidentally glancing into the emerald orbs that looked so deeply at her, almost reading her soul by gazing into her dark sapphire eyes, which were just as dark blue, as her hair was Weasley-Red. "Oh," he said dully.

Damn him. Damn his eyes. Those gorgeous Slytherin-green eyes. Virginia thought savagely at Tom.

Sounds like somebody still has a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived, Tom answered back in aN almost singsong voice.

"ARG!" She thought back. Or at least she thought, she had thought back. Apparently she had said it out-loud. Very loud. "Ginny? Is everything alright?" Harry asked her calmly, blinking a few times ((a/n: yeah, you know. THOSE blinks, the ones that people give you when you do insane things. They go along w/ the STARES and the LOOKS! Yeah, I knew you would get my drift)). "Oh... um,.. yeah, just a headache that won't go away," she said, rubbing her eyes.

Only a headache Virginia? I thought I was a major migraine. At the least. *sniff* I'm hurt; I'm going to go sulk like a heart-broken teenager now.

"Oh, okay. Do you want to go to Madame Pomfrey?" Harry asked worriedly.

No, not Madame Pomfrey! ANYTHING, but Madame Pomfrey!

What, pray tell, do you have against her?

I don't know, I just felt like saying that, just to be rude and obnoxious to Potter.

But isn't that rather beside the point? I mean, it's not like he can hear you or anything.

That, my dear, is what YOU think. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I am not even going to ask.

"No, I'm fine, thank you for asking Harry," Virginia said, going upstairs to her private room (oh how she loved being a prefect) to listen to music, and get her mind off certain things. Certain annoying, overly possessive, talks-in-her-head type of things.

Isn't that hypocritical?

What is?

You called Granger "I'm a prefect, so bow to me" type person. Then you go on about how much you love your private dorm, and how much you love being a prefect. That's hypocritical.

Virginia paused in the hallway, thinking. After a few minutes, she simply answered, No.

No? Care to explain?

No, because I don't rub it in other peoples' faces, and I am a hell of a lot more lenient than Granger is. She told him, while she opened the door to her dark bedroom. Walking over to the magicked stereo, she put in her Alanis Morissette CD. After putting up the volume, she walked to her bed and lay down on the bed. She stared at the ceiling while listening to the harsh lyrics of "You Ought to Know." Slowly, but surely, Virginia's eyes shut closed and she fell asleep.

a/n 2: Did you like my story? Did you think it was crap? Pleas Review. Remember, the purple button is your friend.