Ginny's POV
Saturday morning, the day after her conversation with Hermione
Ginny woke up to sunlight streaming through the dormitory windows and the sound of... nothing. She blinked, disoriented for a moment, then realized her roommates had already gotten up and left for breakfast. A glance at her bedside clock showed it was nearly nine o'clock - she'd slept much later than usual.
Must have been more tired than I thought, she mused, stretching under her warm blankets. The stress she had before talking with Hermione had kept her mind racing all day.
As she got dressed, she kept thinking about what Hermione had said about asking directly how to help, about how real friends should work things together. Today felt like the right time to have that honest conversation with Tom.
After a quick breakfast in the Great Hall, where she grabbed some toast and pumpkin juice, Ginny returned to her dormitory. The weekend meant no classes, and her roommates had gone to chat with some older students. She had the room to herself.
Perfect, she thought, settling on her bed with the diary.
Tom, she wrote, I need to talk to you about something important. Something I should have said a long time ago.
That sounds serious, came his immediate reply. Are you okay?
I'm fine. Better than fine, actually. But I've been thinking a lot about our friendship, and I realized I've been selfish.
Selfish? Ginny, what are you talking about?
You've given me so much - magical knowledge, confidence, friendship, support. You've helped me become a better witch and a better person. But what have I given you in return? Just... conversation.
There was a longer pause than usual before Tom responded.
Ginny, your friendship means everything to me. You don't owe me anything.
But I still want to give you something back, Tom. she wrote firmly. You've been trapped in that diary for fifty years, helping me while getting nothing for yourself. That's not fair, and it's not the kind of friend I want to be.
I don't know what you think you could do...
That's exactly what I'm asking. What DO you want? What could I do to help you? Please, Tom, be honest with me. There has to be something.
Tom's POV
I stared at her words, feeling something twist in my chest. She was asking me to be honest about what I wanted, but how could I tell her the truth? How could I admit that what I wanted most was simply to exist again, to feel physical sensations, to experience the world beyond the confines of the diary?
You really want to know? I wrote finally.
Yes. Please.
I hesitated, then decided to be completely honest. If she was offering to help, she deserved to know what that might entail.
I miss... existing, I wrote slowly. I miss being able to touch things, taste food, feel sunshine. I miss walking through the castle, going to the library, having real conversations with people face to face. Fifty years of nothing but darkness and memories - sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy.
Oh, Tom... Her response came quickly, and I could feel the sympathy radiating from the page. I never thought about how awful that must be. Isn't there anything we can do?
There is one thing, I wrote, then stopped. Was I really considering this? But it's dangerous, and I wouldn't ask it of you.
Tell me.
I could... temporarily possess your body. It would let me experience physical sensations again, interact with the world. But Ginny, it uses your vitality - your body's natural energy. And if it's forced too long or too often, it starts drawing from your lifespan itself.
The page remained blank for a long time. I began to think I'd horrified her, that I'd lost her friendship by even suggesting such a thing.
How long would be safe? she finally wrote.
Ginny, no. I shouldn't have even mentioned it.
How long, Tom?
I sighed, accessing the memories of how the possession was supposed to work. A few hours, maybe once a week at most. And only if you're strong and healthy to begin with. Any more than that and it could seriously hurt you.
And what would you do during those few hours?
I... I'd want to eat something. Real food. Maybe visit the library, read some books with my own eyes instead of through memories. Just... exist for a little while.
You'd have to pretend to be me, wouldn't you?
Yes. I'd need to act like you, speak like you, behave like you. If anyone realized what was happening... well, it wouldn't go well for either of us.
Do you think you could do that? Act like me convincingly?
I considered this carefully. I had access to all our conversations, all her memories she'd shared with me, her mannerisms and speech patterns. But actually pretending to be a twelve-year-old girl would be challenging.
I think so. Though I might seem a bit... different. More formal, maybe. I'd try my best to act naturally.
Tom, she wrote, and there was something determined in the way her handwriting looked. I want to do this.
Ginny, absolutely not. It's too dangerous.
You just said a few hours once a week would be safe! You've been trapped for fifty years - don't you think you deserve a chance to exist again?
Not at the cost of your health.
What if I promise to tell you immediately if I feel weak or strange? What if we start with just an hour or two to see how it goes?
I found myself wavering. The thought of actually existing again, even for a short time, was almost overwhelming. But the risk to Ginny...
If we did this - and I'm not saying we should - you'd have to promise me you'd never let me stay longer than you're comfortable with. If I did make sure to throw me away. Even if I begged to stay with you. Your safety comes first.
I promise. Now will you let me help you for once?
Ginny...
Please, Tom. Let me be there for you too.
The simple request broke down my remaining resistance. Are you absolutely sure?
I'm sure. When do you want to try?
Ginny's POV
Now, Tom wrote, and Ginny could sense his excitement even through the diary pages. If you're really sure. It's Saturday morning, most people are probably at breakfast or enjoying the weekend. It would be good to practice when things are calm.
Ginny's heart raced. She was nervous, but also excited to finally be able to give something back to Tom after everything he'd done for her.
What do I need to do?
Just relax and trust me. You might feel a bit strange at first - like you're falling asleep but staying awake at the same time. Don't fight it.
Okay. I'm ready.
Ginny set the diary carefully beside her on the bed and closed her eyes, trying to relax. At first, nothing happened. Then she felt a strange tingling sensation, like gentle electricity running through her veins. The feeling grew stronger, and she had the oddest sense of... drifting? Like part of her was floating away while another part was settling into her body.
Tom? she tried to think, but there was no response. The drifting sensation intensified, and then—
Tom's POV
I opened my eyes—Ginny's eyes—and for the first time in fifty years or so it felt since he had merged / absorbed with that piece of Voldemort, I could see without looking through memories or magical perception. The dormitory was exactly as Ginny had described, but experiencing it with physical eyes was completely different.
I flexed my fingers—her fingers—marveling at the sensation. I could feel the softness of her weekend robes, the cool air on her skin, the weight of her red hair falling around her shoulders. It was incredible.
Easy, I reminded myself. You need to act like Ginny. Eleven-year-old girl, not a twelve-year-old boy.
I stood up carefully, getting used to moving in her body. She was smaller than I remembered being, and her center of gravity was different. I almost stumbled before adjusting to the unfamiliar proportions.
The first thing I wanted to do was eat something properly. I'd missed breakfast, but maybe I could get something from the kitchens, or there might be food left in the Great Hall.
I made my way down to the Great Hall, practicing Ginny's more casual way of walking - less confident strides, more of a bounce in her step. There were still some students finishing late breakfasts, and I managed to get some fresh toast, eggs, and pumpkin juice.
The taste exploded across my consciousness. The richness of the eggs, the crunch of perfectly toasted bread, the sweet tartness of the pumpkin juice. After the memories fifty years of nothing, it connected with his own experience and it was almost overwhelming. I had to concentrate on eating slowly, trying not to draw attention to myself by acting strangely.
This is incredible, I thought, savoring every bite. How did I ever take this for granted?
After finishing breakfast, or rather the amount that Ginny's body allowed since she already had breakfast, I knew exactly where I wanted to go. The library had always been my sanctuary during my time at Hogwarts, and the thought of being there again, physically turning pages and reading with actual eyes, was irresistible.
The library was busier than it would have been late at night, with several students scattered among the tables working on weekend assignments. I made my way to one of my favorite sections - Advanced Magical Theory - and pulled down a book I remembered fondly.
"Principles of Magical Transformation," I thought, running my fingers along the familiar cover. I settled into a quiet corner and opened it, marveling at being able to physically turn the pages again.
I was so absorbed in the sensation of reading - the texture of the paper, the smell of old books, the weight of the volume in my hands - that I didn't notice someone approaching until they spoke.
"Ginny? I didn't expect to see you here so early."
I looked up to see Hermione Granger standing nearby with an armful of books, looking surprised but pleased. Something about her expression was warmer than I'd expected - not the polite distance of acquaintances, but the genuine friendliness of someone who knew Ginny well.
Act like Ginny, I reminded myself quickly, though I was puzzled by Hermione's familiar tone. Nervous around older students, especially ones she doesn't know well.
"Oh! Hermione. Hi," I said, trying to pitch my voice higher and less confident than felt natural. "I just... wanted to catch up on some reading."
"That's wonderful," Hermione said, settling into the chair across from me. "Advanced Magical Theory? That's quite ambitious reading for a first-year."
Why is she talking to me like we're friends? I wondered. From what Ginny had told me, she barely knew Hermione beyond being Ron's friend.
"I just find it interesting," I said carefully. "Magic is fascinating when you understand the principles behind it."
"I completely agree!" Hermione said enthusiastically. "Most people just want to learn spells, but understanding the why behind magic is so much more important."
Her response surprised me. This was exactly the kind of conversation I'd longed to have - a discussion about magical theory with someone who truly appreciated it. But her familiarity with Ginny was confusing.
"You seem... different this morning," Hermione said thoughtfully. "More confident, maybe? Your posture is straighter, and you're choosing a much more advanced reading."
Already? I thought with alarm. I'd only been in Ginny's body for thirty minutes and someone had already noticed something off.
"Different how?" I asked, genuinely curious about what I was doing wrong while also trying to figure out why Hermione was being so friendly.
"You're holding yourself differently," Hermione observed. "More... formal? And the way you're speaking is more direct than usual. Though I have to say, I like seeing this side of you. You seemed so thoughtful the other night."
The other night? I thought in confusion. What other night?
"The other night?" I repeated carefully.
"When we talked in the common room," Hermione said with a smile. "Remember? You couldn't sleep, and we discussed about your 'friend' with her friendship and helping her friend? It was a really meaningful conversation."
Understanding dawned on me. Ginny had talked to Hermione recently, not just exchanged pleasantries as she may have in the past. That explained the sudden warmth and familiarity he didn't know.
"Oh, right," I said, though I had no idea what they'd discussed. "That was... a good conversation."
"It was," Hermione agreed. "I'm glad you felt comfortable opening up to me. I know we haven't been close before, but I'd like to change that."
Ginny must have made quite an impression, I thought, feeling proud of her. She's braver than she gives herself credit for.
"I'd like that too," I said sincerely.
"So what specifically interests you about magical theory?" Hermione asked with her eyes increasingly glittering, glancing at the book in my hands. "I've been working through some Transfiguration principles myself."
For the next hour, I found myself in the most engaging academic discussion I've ever had not counting Tom's memories. Hermione's knowledge was impressive, her understanding of magical theory more sophisticated than what was needed for her age. She approached magic with the same analytical mindset that had made Tom Riddle such an exceptional student, but with a warmth and genuine curiosity that was refreshing instead.
"You know," she said as we discussed the relationship between intent and magical outcome, "you really do seem different today. Much more... scholarly? Like you're seeing magic from a completely different perspective."
"Maybe I'm just feeling more confident about sharing my thoughts," I said, which was partially true.
"Well, I like it," Hermione said warmly. "You have fascinating insights. Have you considered that Transfiguration might not actually change the fundamental nature of matter, but rather convince it to temporarily adopt new properties while maintaining its essential magical signature?"
She's brilliant, I thought with genuine admiration. That's exactly the kind of theoretical thinking that leads to new magical breakthroughs.
"That's a fascinating theory," I said. "It would explain why some transformations are more stable than others - the closer the new form is to the object's natural magical resonance, the less energy it takes to maintain."
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Exactly! You see what I mean about focusing on the principles instead of just memorizing spells?"
We continued discussing various aspects of magical theory, and I found myself genuinely enjoying the conversation. Hermione's enthusiasm was infectious, and her questions often made me think about familiar concepts in new ways.
"You know, Ginny," she said after we'd spent considerable time discussing the theoretical foundations of charm work, "I hope we can do this more often. It's wonderful to have someone to discuss magic with who really thinks about it deeply."
"I'd love that," I said, meaning every word. "You have such interesting perspectives on everything."
"So do you," Hermione said. "Though I have to say, you seem much more... mature today. As if you got a scholar trapped inside your body."
Too perceptive, I thought with a mix of admiration and concern. I needed to be more careful about how I talked with others.
"Maybe I've just been doing a lot of reading," I said with what I hoped was Ginny's shy smile.
"Must be some very advanced reading," Hermione said with a laugh. "Well, I should probably get back to my Ancient Runes book. But this was wonderful, Ginny. I'm so glad we're becoming real friends."
After she left, I spent another thirty minutes in the library, but I could feel a subtle drain on Ginny's energy that I hadn't noticed at first. It was becoming more apparent now - surely not dangerous, but noticeable. I didn't want to push too far on our first attempt.
Time to go back, I decided reluctantly, taking one last look around the beloved library.
Ginny's POV
Ginny woke up in the library chair, feeling groggy and slightly disoriented. It took her a moment to remember what had happened—the possession, letting Tom use her body for a few hours.
She looked around and realized she was alone among the bookshelves, with an Advanced Magical Theory textbook open in front of her. She quickly closed it and made her way back to Gryffindor Tower.
Tom? she wrote once she was safely back in her dormitory. Are you back? How was it?
I'm back, he replied immediately. And Ginny... thank you. That was the most incredible gift anyone has ever given me.
How do you feel? Did everything work okay?
Better than okay. I got to taste food again, spend time in the library, and I had the most fascinating conversation about magical theory.
With who?
Hermione Granger. And Ginny, I need to ask you something - when did you and Hermione become friends? She talked to me like you two had grown close recently.
Ginny felt her cheeks warm as she remembered her late-night conversation with Hermione about Tom.
We talked the other night when I couldn't sleep. I asked her for advice about... well, about friendship. She was really kind and helpful.
That explains it. She mentioned you'd had a meaningful conversation. She's remarkable, Ginny. Her understanding of magical theory is exceptional, and she genuinely cares about learning. I was impressed.
I'm so glad you got to experience that. You sounded like you really enjoyed talking with her.
I did. She reminds me of how I used to approach magic - that hunger for knowledge, that determination to understand everything. But she's driven by genuine curiosity rather than... other motivations.
How do I feel? Do I seem tired or weak?
You seem fine, but there's definitely a drain on your energy. Nothing dangerous. We should probably stick to once a week like we discussed.
That's fine with me. Tom, I'm so happy I could help you experience that again.
You have no idea what this means to me, Ginny. For the first time in fifty years, I feel... hopeful. Like maybe there's still good I can do in this world.
There definitely is. And maybe we can find more ways for you to interact with people, to share your knowledge.
Speaking of which, you should know that Hermione noticed I was acting differently. She said I seemed more confident and mature, and that my way of discussing magic was more advanced than she expected from you.
Oh no, do you think she suspects something?
I don't think so. She seemed to think you were just showing a side of yourself she hadn't seen before. But I'll need to be more careful about matching your usual behavior.
We'll figure it out. Thank you for trusting me enough to ask for help, Tom. This is what real friends do for each other.
Thank you for believing in me. And for giving me the chance to exist again, even for a few hours.
As Ginny settled back into her normal routine, she felt deeply satisfied. Finally, she'd been able to give something meaningful back to Tom. And from the joy in his responses, she could tell it had meant everything to him.
We'll make this work, she thought. We'll find ways for him to exist again while keeping both of us safe.
It was the beginning of a new chapter in their friendship—one where they could truly help each other.
_______________________________________
Author's Note:
So... uhhh this is a bit embarrassing but I kinda forgot to upload this chapter, as in I slept through writing it mid way.
Anyway heres the new chapter, enjoy my people.
Also, some of you may already know but, I like joking around... as example the past chapters cough* MF comment I left, and yes, they may be bad jokes, but I still try, so bear with me... (who told you to enjoy the ff... xd)