Real

Relieving the Past

"Isn't it funny, how in some way, shape, or form, no matter how much we try to stop it, history seems to repeat itself?"

~ Ironic Files

Ginny knew, well the reasonable part of her mind knew, that the person before her was the Dark Lord. But her breath was still caught in her throat and all her mind was screaming was Tom. Tom.

He looked older than in the chamber, only by a few years; probably making him her age. His black hair cascading carelessly around his face in a messy way. His very round dull marble green eyes stared curiously at her and trying to lock her eyes, but she was still surveying him. Tom was leaning back into the chair, his elbows on his upper thighs, and his face resting gracefully on his folded fingers. Ginny finally looked back up and found one of his thin eyebrows raised at her inquiry.

Clearing her throat she tried to find her voice. "What have you done?" was all she could manage to whisper. Ginny observed his features again as his mouth curved into a smirk.

"I've gotten older, Ginny, as have you," he said, his voice pure and rich, like the Tom she knew. He pulled his arms and sat up, placing his elbows on his knees and clearly observed her, taking in her image. Feeling his eyes, she slouched back further into the chair feeling embarrassed for her attire. Finding she couldn't look at him she looked again into the fire.

"How..." she trailed off still trying to bring her pulse to normal. When he didn't respond she turned her face slowly back to him. He was still studying her.

"Why don't we get you into more...appropriate attire," he replied standing gracefully and walking toward her chair, arm extended for her.

"I want an answer, Tom...Lord," she said, catching herself.

"Call me Tom, Ginny," he said reaching down and carefully pulling her up. "I would cut out anyone's tongue who speaks of my real name...but, not yours. For now, to you, I am Tom." Ginny couldn't do anything else but nod. Pure evil did exist; she was arm in arm with it.

"How did you do it?" she asked not letting him snake his way from the question.

"Most people think it impossible to preserve oneself and return to a recent state. But I've done it, Ginny. Evil does have its rewards."

"Is it...permanent?" she asked daring herself to say the word.

"It can be," he said pulling her gently, in his arm, across the room.

"And would you just...get older?" she asked thoroughly confused.

"Magic is a wonderful thing, Ginny. Only certain people truly deserve it."

Ginny swallowed hard again and listened as their footsteps echoed across the room, bouncing off the stone, as they headed to a door different than the one she had come in. Glancing down at her arm, still in Tom's, memories resurfaced again. Memories of laughter sounding through the chamber. Memories that, no matter how much she tried to convince herself weren't, were some of the times she felt most wanted. But then...Ginny remembered how it had ended. She was lying on the cold wet floor dying, rescued by Harry. She ripped her arm from his and stepped away from him.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" he asked looking curiously at her sudden movement.

"I almost forgot...again," she said, trying not to stammer and crossing her arms across her chest. "You're not real...you never have been."