Riddle's smile broadened.

'You won't be needing it,' he said.

Harry stared at him.

'What d'you mean, I won't be –?'

'I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter,' said Riddle. 'For the chance to see you. To speak to you.'

'Look,' said Harry, losing patience, 'I don't think you get it. We're in the Chamber of Secrets. We can talk later.'

'We're going to talk now,' said Riddle, still smiling broadly, and he pocketed Harry's wand. Amelia had a strong urge to punch this guy.

Harry stared at him. There was something very funny going on here.

'How did Ginny get like this?' he asked slowly.

'Well, that's an interesting question,' said Riddle pleasantly.

'And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.'

'What are you talking about?' said Harry.

'The diary,' said Riddle. 'My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes: how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books, how –' Riddle's eyes glinted '– how she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her ...'

'Oh, God!' groaned Amelia. 'Please tell me YOU didn't help her write that poem!'

Riddle grinned.

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

'It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl,' he went on. 'But I was patient. I wrote back, I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom ... I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in ... It's like having a friend I can carry round in my pocket ...'

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry's neck.

'If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted. I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her ...'