A/N:  Ach!  It took me FOREVER to get this done.  But it is, and I hope you enjoy it.  Hopefully it will get more interesting since I have gotten the introduction out of the way.  I think I have pretty much settled on what the plot will be like, so let's keep our fingers crossed for a speedy next-chapter delivery!  Please review, as they are welcome and appreciated.

DISCLAIMER:  Harry Potter characters and locations are the property of companies including but not limited to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros.  No money is being made from this story.

Draco rolled over lazily on his side, toying with the rope that shut his bed curtains.  He sighed deeply, eyes in slits. He was bored; there was nothing else to it.  It was a usual Saturday morning at Hogwarts, no classes, no trips to Hogsmeade.  He had homework, but that could wait until tomorrow night. He didn't even have to do his potions. He smirked at the thought; Snape would give twenty points for Slytherin if Draco just showed up.

His attention turned to the curtains.  They were of deep green velvet, and when closed, they could block out the light of the brightest fire.  Small silver serpents were embroidered around the edges, marching along in asymmetrical lines.

He sighed again, and sat up, discontent with his surroundings.  What to do, what to do?  He glanced over at the fire, and smiled lazily.  He always loved watching the flames.  They licked at the wood, sending dark streaks across the surface.  The fire would slowly demolish the wood, keeping it in its basic shape until all the substance was burned away, and then it would collapse in a heap of ashes, destroyed from the inside out. 

Destroying from the inside out, Draco mused.  That would be fun.  He had seen it done many times before, people manipulating other people, luring their trust, and then betraying them at the last moment, and watching the sanity of the other slowly crumble, leaving only a mass of broken thoughts and emotions.  It was one of the main ways the Dark Lord operated, and Draco admired him very much for it.  He had always wanted to try it himself; it looked incredibly fun.

His eyes narrowed, and he smirked.  That control, that sheer power over another.  And what a better person to practice it on than an unsuspecting student.  But there was only one question: who?   

Draco thought for a moment.  None of the sixth years, naturally, as they were all in his classes, and knew him too well.  They at least knew enough not to trust him.  The seventh years were eliminated also.  An upperclassman would be too suspicious, and most would not want to hang out with a sixth year.  No one too young; I should at least get some… benefits out of this.  A fifth year, maybe.  A fifth year girl.  But what house?  No Slytherins, I wouldn't betray my house like that.  Ravenclaws would catch on.  Hufflepuffs… no, that would be too easy.  His eyes suddenly lit up in a burst of inspiration.  A Gryffindor!  And not just any Gryffindor, he wanted the Weasel's little sister.  He grinned maliciously.  And what a better way to hit the dream team.  Hurt poor little… Ginny?  Yes, that's her name.  Hurt poor little Ginny, and I'll take Potty and the Weasel too.  Besides, he thought, even for a Gryffindor, she's pretty hot.  I bet she and I could have a little… fun.

He hopped off his bed.  First, to find the little girl.  But what could he do to gain her trust?  Maybe the old 'Oh, I'm just a poor misunderstood boy inside,' girls just love that.  It worked before…

Draco smirked, thinking of some of his last encounters.  A few of the Death Eater's daughters, very gullible indeed.  Of course, he suspected they wanted the same thing as he did, so it really didn't matter.

His grinned widened.  Live prey—this was going to be fun.

*          *            *            *            *

Ginny sighed again, and checked her watch.  Seven-thirty.  He wasn't coming.  She bit her lip to hold back the rage that was slowly building inside her.

Harry was supposed to meet her at six forty-five, to help her study for her Potions test.  He didn't know it as well as Hermione did, but she didn't care.  She was trying to set it up as a 'romantic rendezvous', and hopefully interest him in her. However, the last fives years he had completely ignored her, so why would he do anything different? 

She narrowed her eyes.  Five years, she had been after him.  Five years, and she still had not gotten what she wanted.  Bad things happened when Ginny didn't get what she wanted.

 What I want to do is hurt him, she thought.  Make him feel the way I have felt since my first year.  I want to rip his heart out of his chest and shove it so far up his—

An outburst of giggles interrupted her thoughts.  Damn first years.  She casually aimed her wand at the offending area, and muttered something under her breath.

The giggles were then replaced by high-pitched squeals of terror.  She had successfully transfigured a book on the shelf into a foot-long spider, which now amused itself by jumping off the shelf into the offending student's hair.  Ginny smirked; now that was fun.

Too easy though.

There's not enough good prey at this school, she thought.  Tom was right.

Tom . . .

She smiled; but it was a cold smile that didn't reach her eyes.  It was five years, five long years from the time that she had last seen him.

Oh, she remembered him fondly.  Dark, slightly curling hair, deep brown eyes.  Only sixteen, but still one of the most beautiful people she had ever met.  His youth only added to the splendor.  His young body, but his eyes, intelligent eyes, that showed there was more to him than the longest story could ever tell.  They were eyes of the ages, and when Ginny looked into them for the first time she got lost.  She still would dream about them, meandering through their depths, and feeling peace for the only time in her life.

And he was the only boy—no, man—that she had ever loved.

It was the diary that started it, no denying that.  A simple entry, and then it blossomed into an infatuation and attachment so intense that it sometimes scared her.  The first time he had written back, he seemed so caring, and understanding, that she was touched.  She poured her heart out to him, and he reached back at her.  She grew to love him, and she would spend all her hours in class dreaming about getting back to her diary and writing him, just to see his gently arching script grace the page, words to beautiful to be seen by mortal eyes.

And the first time he controlled her; there was no way to describe it.  He enveloped her; he filled her, with emotions so exhilarating and comforting, sinfully gorgeous and frightening.  It was the greatest experience of her life.

But nothing could compare to the chamber.

The first time she had set eyes on him—breathtaking.  Finally, she was able to meet the one who knew her past the shy exteriors, who had prodded through her very soul.  She was overwhelmed with emotions, so completely besieged it seemed as if she couldn't breath, couldn't blink; it seemed her heart couldn't beat.  And he had walked up to her, and taken her two small hands in one of his own, and raised the other to her cheek.  He had slowly lowered his lips to her own, and kissed her softly.

And that kiss was poison.  It captured her in wild fever-dreams, a frantic, deep sleep.  He still talked to her, though, in the dreams.  He needed her, he said.  She was more important to him than anyone else in the world.  But he wished a favor.  Ginny, of course, was more than willing to agree.  She would have handed him the world on a silver platter if it had been possible.  Tom didn't ask for that much, though. 

He just needed her to be the bait.

Not for any sort of monster, or anything that would physically harm her.  He just needed something to lure the other boy, the only other one who could play with her emotions just the way Tom did.  But the feelings for Harry could have never amounted for what she felt for Tom. 

Tom also gave her instructions for when she woke up.  Don't tell anyone about us, he had said.  They'll never understand.  They'll say you're crazy, and they'll try their best to keep you away from me, and make you forget me.  But don't forget me, Ginny.  I'll never forget you.  I'll still owe you a favor after this.  Anything you ask for, I'll give it to you.  I love you.

She was content with that answer.  She was happy to stay forever in the Chamber of Secrets, just so she could hear his voice and see his face in her dreams.  She was happy until that damn Harry Potter came along, and stole her away from her love.  But Tom had promised he would see her again.

And after that, there was nothing, still was nothing, for five long years.  She sighed, not for the first time that night.  If she couldn't have him, if only—no, it was impossible. It was just a fantasy, but if only there was someone that beautifully cruel, someone so malicious and loving, that could at least take his place, until she could see him again.  But it was just a wistful dream…

And it was about that time her dream walked through the library door.