A/N: I'm BACK! Okay, this is a short chapter, because its just a prologue… the other chapters will be longer. Promise. If you're coming back from Rewind (COUGHLetterPCOUGH), then HI! If not, HI! You'll like this. You don't have to read Rewind to read this, I guess, as I explain everything along the way, but it is seriously recommended, or you won't like it much… Also, I'm not going to be updating quite as fast for this one, as I only have eighteen chapters typed up. Soooo, yeah, that's it, bay-sih-cer-ly… READ IT.

Sequel to 'Rewind'

BASIC SUMMARY (if you chose not to read the first book):

The War destroyed Hogwarts. The Light lost. Everyone was killed except for Ginny Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Sybil Trelawney and a few other un-named students. A prophecy is found, saying that Ginny needs to destroy Voldemort's heart. They misunderstand, send her back in time to 1959, when he is seventeen (yes, it's AU, move on) and to kill him. Originally they despise each other, but she avoids trying to murder him, and slowly they end up falling in love with each other. Then, just as she is starting to realise that she loves him, time bites her in the arse and drags her back to the 21st century. Nothing has changed, because by leaving the 50's, she broke his heart, and accidentally sort of turned him back into Voldemort again. She returns to 1959, tells Tom she loves him, blah blah blah. Cue the beginning of Press Play.

And no, 1959 is not a mistake.

I intended it to be that year.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ginny or Tom or Hogwarts or the Wizarding World or Dippet or Dumbledore or Flitwick or Slughorn. However, I do quite a lot of other characters, as I made them up, and the plot is entirely mine.

Press Play


Chapter One: Miss You

The train hooted its horn loudly and Ginny Peregrine cursed her wand furiously. "Stupid," she told it. "You're a really badalarm-clock, you know that?"

An impatient sigh came from just behind her. "Ginevra, talking to your wand for the umpteenth time isn't going to get you on the train any faster."

Ginny pretended that she hadn't heard this. Instead, she chose to talk to the train. "Don't you dare leave!" she howled at it. "I'm warning you!"

"People are staring," Tom hissed, following. "Just behave like a normal person until you get on the train."

"Okay, okay," she grumbled. She made to hurry onto the gleaming red-and-black Hogwarts Express, but Tom grabbed her hand and spun her backwards.

"Have you forgotten something?" he asked quietly, his face inches from hers. His dark eyes were oceans; oceans that could be calm or stormy or warmed by a midday sun.

"Um." The wit that she sometimes came up with was astonishing.

One of his eyebrows lifted, and his gaze flickered down meaningfully to her trunk, the handle of which he held in long, pale fingers.

"Oops." Ginny grinned. "Thanks." She took the trunk from him, making a face as its weight shifted from his hand to hers.

In silent reply, the tiniest of smiles pulled at the corners of his lips – he wasn't a very smiley person – but it passed, and he looked down. A fringe of hair so dark that it was nearly black partially hid his troubled eyes.

"What's wrong?" With her free hand, she reached out for his.

He sighed. "I don't know," he muttered. "I just… I don't know if I'll be okay… when you're not here to help."

Her heart sank. Of course. "You'll be fine," she told him softly. "You just need to stop panicking."

It was a problem, of course, that Tom Riddle had a satanic alter-ego that sometimes tried to kill people. It was even more of a problem when she was A) the only one who knew about it, and B) the only one who could help him – because he was a year older than her, and had therefore graduated already, he would have a year without her assistance.

"I'll see you in the holidays, and I'll write to you," she promised. "Pinkie-swear." She held up her little finger.

There was a second or two where her boyfriend stared at her little finger, and Ginny knew that he was focusing on it to regain his self-control. She kept her smallest finger in the air, waiting for him. Then he looked back to her face, his own face smooth and emotionless. "Don't be silly," Tom told her, pushing her finger down. "I asked you to be normal, remember?" There was a joking expression in his eyes, which he was fairly obviously inflating to hide any other emotion of distress that had previously been displayed.

She pouted, playing along. "I'll try," she teased.

The train bellowed its horn from behind her, making her jump.

"Ack! Gotta go."

She turned back to him to kiss him lightly, knowing that he didn't like publicly showing that he was capable of human emotion, and was surprised when he wrapped his arms around her and held her closely, though his eyes were flashing left and right to the other people at Kings Cross Station, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, some of whom were watching the exchange with mild interest.

However, despite their closeness, Tom didn't kiss her.

"Stay safe," he murmured.

"I promise. Anyway, staying safe's not that hard," she replied. "If I didn't find anything dangerous last year, I doubt I'll find it this year."

"You found me."

"Thank God for that."

Now, finally, he touched his lips to hers. Then, barely a split-second later, he broke away and let go of her. "If you don't go now, you will certainly miss the train," he said coolly. "Tell Philips that I left him a suggestion of how to organise the Prefect rotas in the left drawer of the desk."

"Aww." Ginny smiled. "You do have a heart, after all."

He raised one eyebrow. "Go, Ginevra." He handed her the trunk, took hold of her shoulders and spun her to face the train; then gave her a small push towards it.

She obediently hurried towards the Hogwarts Express as the loud chug-chug-chug of it pulling away rang loud and clear in her ears. She pushed her trunk through the folding doors, and then jumped on before it started to pull away.

As it dragged its heavy body from the station, Ginny turned back to the doorway, her scarlet hair falling over her shoulder and into her face, holding onto one of the doors tightly, and watching as the tall, lean figure of Tom Riddle became smaller and smaller. The message finally sank into her brain that she probably wouldn't see that quiet young man until Christmas. She missed him painfully already.

"I love you," she whispered out of the open door, the jolting of the train speeding up swinging her precariously. Seeing sensibility and remembering her promise to stay safe, she shut and latched the door, and dragged her trunk away to find a compartment.


A/N: How lovely. Yeah, it's short, whatever. Get over it. The next one will be longer. Review if you love me! :D

Next Time:

However, her surprise turned to shock as a frighteningly familiar face appeared on an eleven-year-old girl. "Heather Tristanebury!" called Professor Dippet, reading out from his parchment list of names. A hush filled the Great Hall. The girl was easily recognisable without her name being called. Ginny leaned towards Grace, who was staring at Heather Tristanebury with an equally stunned face.

"That's Moaning Myrtle's sister, isn't it?" Ginny verified in an undertone. Grace nodded. And then Ginny noticed something even more alarming.

Everyone was staring at her.