Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Envy and Manipulations	By : rrabbit Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Ginny Views: 8376 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters from it.... therefore I do not receive any payment for this writing.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
The record player kept going, playing those old songs as I watch the battle from my hidden spot at Folk Hills.

It wasn't just wizards and witches in the battle... it was all kinds of dark creatures. Trolls, spiders, dementors, house elves... they were all fighting on each side and dying because of it. I spotted Hermione and Ron in the third floor bathroom, disappearing into the chamber with a small golden cup. When they returned the cup was gone but they both looked wide eyed and red faced as my bother held onto a series of basilisk fangs.

I wish there was a view from the chamber. I want to know what they just did.

I spot Harry by the room of Requirement where he met up with his two greatest companions. They disappear into the room and afterward, I can see Draco and Blaise go in as well. They were in there for a while... almost too long and I couldn't stand it anymore.. I turned the mirror again and I watched as people I knew... people I loved... were dying... hurting... running for their lives.

I can't take it anymore... I should be there to help!

I send a sideways glance to Wormtail. He's off to the left now, picking his teeth with his metallic hand as the music echos off the wall, covering up most of the screams from the battle.

"Why aren't you there?" I ask him as I try to think where his wand might be stashed. If I can get it away from him, I can get out of here. "Does your Great Lord not trust you enough to fight on his side? Afraid you might turn coats like you did to the Potters?" I ask and his lip turns up in an ugly sneer.

"I am a very capable wizard, highly regarded by His Grace," he snaps. "But I have been assigned a very important task that I don't need to explain to you!" he shouts and I look at the box under his arm.

"You're my babysitter?" I ask spitefully, trying to belittle him and it's working because his face is getting hot. "How highly he must regard you to watch a defenseless teenage girl."

"You know nothing," he says, sending me a look like I was dirt on the ground. That's rich, coming from the man who pretended to be vermin for thirteen or so years. He cradles the box to his chest and sneers at me. "The Dark Lord trusts me above all else!"

I snort and cross my arms. "Hardly," I say with and eye roll. "What's in the box?"

"You have no authority here," he says and I hear the people crying again so I glance at the mirror.

I see Tonks get blasted against a wall and I feel the fire in my veins.

"What's in the box?" I repeat as I take a step closer to him.

"Step back," he snivels at me and I glare.

I take another step closer and he removes his wand. I nearly smile when he sees it as he points it at my chest. The record player starts to skip, replaying one word in the same song over and over again as I approach him slowly.

"I said step back!"

"You aren't going to curse me, are you?" I ask softly. There are a lot bigger and badder people in the world. I refuse to be afraid of a person like Peter Pettigrew. I take a step closer. "I doubt that would keep you in his good graces."

"You know nothing, you stupid girl!" he hisses at me.

He takes a step back and the box fumbles in his hands. I take the distraction to lunge at him. I grab his wand hand, and he drops the box as he tries to wrestle with me. He's much larger than me and he has a lot more pounds on his frame than I do, but I try to use what I have in my favor.

We fall to the ground as I try to pry the wand from his fingers, using my agility to wiggle and move around. Our magic is coursing through us and it's shooting off random spells to the ceiling from the tip of his wand.

I almost have it out of his sweaty hands by the time we roll to our sides. He cusses and spits at me as sweat starts to gather on my brow. I... almost... have... it... I bite his wrist and then he brings his knee up and slams it right into my stomach.

It knocks the air out of me and my fingers slip from his wand as I roll away from him and curl into myself to deaden the pain.

Fuck, that hurts.

"No," he whispers to himself, seeming panicked as he hovers above me. "You're fine," he says as he touches my arm. He's sweating and a few beads of his sweat drip onto my arm.

That's my breaking point.

"Get the fuck away from me!" I hiss at him angrily as I clutch my stomach.

He scrambles to get away from me and then he starts apologizing over and over again, begging me not to tell the Dark Lord.

If I ever see the fucking Dark Lord again, you can bet I'm fucking telling.

I inhale deeply and go to stand up... .that's when I notice the noise.

It's like an odd little girl scream and I furrow my brows as I get to my knees and look around. I finally focus on the box Wormtail had been clutching so closely. It's laying open on the floor and inside is a sparkling crown with a blue sapphire set in the middle. That's where that noise is coming from and I frown as I get to my feet, still holding my stomach, as I start to walk towards it.

Why is it making that noise... and why have I seen that before?

"Harry Potter is dead!"

My neck snaps to the mirror when I hear that sentence and my heart falls. I run towards the mirror again, forgetting that damn thing in the box as I put my hand on the surface to turn it a million times so I can figure out what's happening. People have stopped fighting on both sides and I think there's an announcement going through the loud speaker because the female voice is cracked sounding, like it was filtered through a speaker.

"Let us all lay down our wands and join our new Lord in the courtyard! Any drop of magical blood spilled is a tragedy..." the voice goes on, but I can't seem to hear it as I try to make sense of what was just said.

Harry can't be dead.

He's Harry. He's doesn't die... he's the boy that lives!

"Our Lord has prospered, like I knew he would," Wormtail says as he stands and picks up the screaming box, snapping the lid shut, leaving us with just the skipping record player. "When we wake tomorrow, the world will be brand new."

"Stop talking," I hiss at him in a low and dangerous voice.

He obeys and I would have smirked a little if I wasn't so devastated. People started to gather in the courtyard and I watch as people I know and love look full of despair as they wait for the Dark Lord to come back from the forbidden forest... a place my magical mirror could not see.

Eventually, the Dark Lord and a majority of his army come back into view... along with Hagrid who's tied with ropes and chains... and in his arms... lying limp and dead... is Harry Potter.

I cover my mouth again and tears sting my eyes.

Any hopeful thought I ever had about the war seemed to have come to a stand still as I watched the progression to the castle. I felt my shoulders slump even more when I saw the gloating face on Lord Voldemort as Nagini slithered triumphant by his side.

I'm never going to escape that mad man.

I feel like crumbling to the ground, but I'm too stunned to move... and I don't want Peter Pettigrew of, all people, thinking I'm so weak.

"They deserved it, you know," Wormtail says thoughtfully as he watches the Dark Lord make a speech about greatness of the wizarding world and urging the rebels to join his ranks. A few cowards throw down their wands and run towards his army, falling in line and bending their knees in submission.

I feel like someone just ripped out my heart and ate it for dinner.

"For thinking they were so much better than me... so much greater..." his lip curls back again and his eyes are glassy, like he was stuck in a memory that was all together unpleasant for him. "And look at what I've done. I've brought back the greatest wizard the world has ever seen and now they're all dead."

He starts to laugh, a loud and annoying laugh.

"Dead!" he says with a grin like a pleased school boy. "All of them dead and me, the one they thought was the weakest... alive! And honored by his lordship."

God, he's pathetic.

I turn back to the mirror as he places his metallic hand on it and starts sifting through the images as the Dark Lord starts talking to the rest of the war torn people in the courtyard, mocking them and burning the dead with fire. I can practically smell it from here as the black smoke billows in the air.

I see Draco with his face covered in ash and blood standing... standing next to my father... and I cover my mouth again just because I can see that, he too, was surprised by the turn of events.

Wormtail turns the mirror, going over the rooms and corridors of the castle as Tom's dark voice booms through the halls.

I can see the dead people that I had loved, their bodies pale and bloody against the floors.

"Remus... Siruis... James... All dead!"

He's laughing so hard that he didn't notice the door to the club house open. He was too busy gloating to see it.

But I did.

To my utter surprise, I see a man in a wheelchair in the door frame, blocking out the light behind him so he falls into silhouette. I only know one wizard to use one of those and I feel something like hope stir in my chest as he makes himself known. Abarax Malfoy rolls himself into the room, wearing a brown tailored suit and matching fedora as Wormtail hisses hateful slurs at him.

When he sees me, he smiles and put his hat on his lap, ignoring Wormtail.

"Hello, Ginevra," he says pleasantly like the only hope in the wizarding world didn't just get snuffed out. He looks at Wormtail with the same pleasant smile. "Oh, and the ruffian is here as well. Joy to the world," he says with a smirk and I give him an odd look as he pulls out his wand. "Did you all hear the good news?"

I nod my head... feeling the sob get stuck in my throat.

After all, I really don't know what side Abarax Malfoy is on. Their family dynamic is so different than mine that I wouldn't be surprised if they were all fighting for different sides.

"Potter is dead!" Wormtail yells. "The Dark Lord has achieved his goal and those who have remained loyal will be rewarded. Money can not buy that!" he says and Abarax rolls his eyes and gives me a private smile like Peter Pettigrew was a simpleton who couldn't be helped.

I look at Wormtail, the corners of his mouth are white with dried spit and I can't say that's too far off.

"Your blood traitor family will be slaughtered!" He yells and Abarax nods his head.

"Yes, indeed," he says coldly. I feel my heart clench at the thought. "I'm afraid that will come to pass... Of course, that will only happen if Our Lord captures them and you know how slippery my Lucius can be, " he says with a laugh, like it was funny... like it wasn't a serious threat.

That shuts Wormtail up rather effectively but I don't care. I turn back to the mirror to see what's going to happen next. If my family is going to be okay... If Draco is going to be okay...

I can't tell now. The smoke from the burning bodies is blocking my screen. I start turning the mirror to see a different angle but nothing is showing up and I feel frustration make my heart hammer.

I want to know what's happening!

I clench my fist and resist stomping my foot. I just keep on turning the mirror to try to see something when I notice the jet of light behind me. When I snap my neck to the side, I see Wormtail get a whole chest full of curse from Abarax's wand and he goes flying back, smacking against the wall with a sickening crack of bones. My mouth falls open with surprise and I look at Draco's Grandfather, frozen to my spot.

"Rebellion is for the young," he says as I give him a wide and questioning look. "But treachery," he says as he puts his hat back on. "Now, that is for the old like myself."

"What?" I whisper softly, confusion lacing my voice as he smiles at me.

I see so much of Draco in it that it hurts my heart.

"Apparently cripples and the feeble minded," he says, nodding to Wormtail, still knocked out against the wall. "Aren't allowed to fight in any great battles. So I'm here to escort you."

"To where?" I ask softly, hope soaring in my chest for the first time in days.

"Home," he says with a smile and my heart warms over. I almost run to him to hug him, but I hold myself back. "Until the Dark Lord is defeated."

"But... Harry is dead now," I say softly and he shrugs.

"But my Grandson is not," he counters. "Wars are not won in a day, Ginevra," he says gently. I nod my head and look towards the box that Wormtail dropped. I should take that as well. I walk towards it as he continues talking and I bend down to pick it up. "It takes time. There is more than one-"

A shot of green light blasts right by me. I snap my head up and watch as hits Mr. Malfoy right in the chest. The blasts throws him back, making him fall out of his chair and his body thumps to the ground with a sickening crack of bones.

Oh my God.

I drop the box and run over to him, kneeling by his side as I tentatively touch his chest. His eyes are open and staring ahead of him in a flat stare. I try to find his pulse on his neck, but I feel nothing.

He's dead.

Wormtail.

Fury rises in my chest and I look over my shoulder at Peter Pettigrew as his hand shakes around his wand. There's blood dribbling from his nose and his complexion is a sickening shade of green. I don't even say anything my anger is so fierce and I pick up Abarax Malfoy's wand and I point it right at Peter Pettigrew and his stupid rat looking face.

I want to kill him... I want to kill him so badly but I just can't, so I turn my wand to the pillar beside him and blast it apart. The rubble falls on top of him and he screams loudly, but I don't even care as I run to the door. The water is still there, but now I have a wand and I jump in before Apparating.

I land right in front of the castle of Hogwarts and I start running towards the courtyard. As stupid and rash as it is, I don't care. I just want to see my family again... I want to hurt Tom Riddle.

As run up, I end up right behind the hoard of Death Eaters who are standing behind Tom Riddle on the bridge to the castle. He's still talking, giving a detailed speech about a better tomorrow as I weave my way through the dark cloaks and hateful sneers. I even use my wand to send a few of them flying off the bridge to their certain death below.

When I get close enough, I can see Hagrid to the side and I can see Harry's feet dangling from behind his large form.

I swallow the cry in my throat as I push against Death Eaters. I have the wand clenched in my right hand and when I get close enough, I lift my wand right at the back of Tom's head.

The movement didn't go noticed, of course, because before I could utter a spell, a Death Eater grabbed my arm.

"My Lord!" the tattletale in the silver mask grips my arm so hard that it burns.

Tom looks over his shoulder curiously and then he smiles when he sees me, like we were old friends about ready to reunite.

"Ginevra Weasley," he says as he walks towards me. He snatches the wand from my hand with out a fight and then he runs it under his nose, like he could smell who it belonged to. "Abarax Malfoy," he says thoughtfully as he tucks the wand in his pocket. "That family has turned out to be my greatest disappointment."

I hear a roar of the crowd behind us, and the Dark Lord snaps his head to Hagrid. Harry has jumped from his arms and I feel my heart leap in hope as he falls to his feet like a cat pouncing.

He's calling to Volemort now and then, as quickly as it started the first time, the battle comes back to life. I was pushed aside and I fell to the ground as magic started to blast around me. I crawled backwards, my skin scrapping against the rubble as I tried to find a safe place to hide to get my barrings.

Harry's alive.

That one thought alone puts fight back into my system and when I find a rather large stone that had fallen from the castle, I hide behind it and try to catch my breath.

Harry's alive. Hope.

"Ginny," I hear my name being said and I widen my eyes as I turn my neck to the right.

Charlie... "Charlie!" I yell with a smile as I jump up and pull him to me in a tight hug.

I haven't seen my favorite brother in so long I barely believed he was real. A nasty curse has caused boils to grow on his right forearm and he cringes when he pulls back.

"It's so good to see you," he says, grabbing the back of my neck and kissing my forehead. "Jesus we thought you were dead... or worse."

I nod my head knowing exactly what worse could be because it happened to me earlier. When the Dark Lord used a curse to look like Draco... to... to do that thing he did... I hold Charlie's hand against my neck for a moment before a blast from a nearby curse makes a rock nearby explode. Charlie pushes me down and covers my head.

"Come on," he says as he takes my arm. "If I can get you in the castle... to Mom... she'll take you home."

Home.

I nod my head. I don't care to fight now. I want to see Mom.

He peeks his head out from around the rock and then he clenches his hand around my arm. "Now," he whispers and I follow with out question.

Curses blast at us from all sides and Charlie uses his wand to deflect the worst of it. As we run through the courtyard, I see Romilda Vane, dead on the ground from a binding curse to the throat. She still has scratches from her fingernails along her neck, trying to get the curse from strangling her.

I see Remus' dead body still bleeding from a wound to the chest...Some kind of Dark Creature is eating the flesh from his leg and Charlie kills the thing with a blast of red light. We run past Pansy' father who's struggling with a festering wound in his stomach and beside him is a dead spider the size of a muggle car.

There was so much blood shed I could hardly wrap my head around it.

"There's a medic station in the Great Hall for our side," Charlie whispers as we run through the front doors of the castle that have been blasted off of their hinges, splintering the wood. "The wards are strong," he adds.

I see Slughorn slumped against the stairs, half of his guts spilled out and falling around him like bloody ribbons. I stumble on one of the steps and fall down sharply on one knee as my wide eyes take in the terrible image. I feel the bile in the back of my throat as I stare at him with out blinking.

"Just don't look at anything but me," Charlie says once he notices my hesitation on seeing such a sight. He grabs my face and forces me to look at him. "Just me," he says and I nod my head.

I watch the back of his copper colored hair as we run, trying not to see the terrible outcome of the battle that litters my peripheral vision.. Charlie was a meaty man, tall and broad in the shoulders, and even though I know this was a war won by magic, not brawn, I couldn't help but feel safer in his company.

He was a dragon tamer after all... He could tame the worst of Death Eater's as well.

Or, I just like to think that.

When I was really little... I can remember sneaking into his room late at night when I was afraid and finding comfort from his strength. Ron was always such a scardy cat in the middle of the night and he would slip into our parents room and sleep in between them, leaving no room for me. So Charlie became my safe haven.

When there are so many children in one family, the older siblings always seem to fill certain rolls the younger ones need but can't get from their busy parents. Charlie was like a substitute father to me at times.

I love him.

I miss him.

I squeeze his hand and he glances at me as we run up the second set of stairs, headed towards the Great Hall. He gives me a sad little smile and squeezes back.

"Your nightmare will be over soon," he says and it makes me think about all the times I ran into his room, scared from my dreams... Even before the chamber I had a terrible nightmares. "I promise."

I nod my head, my voice getting stuck somewhere deep down in my body.

Right before we enter the Great Hall, Charlie stops me with his arm across my middle, making me fall back from it's suddenness. Something was off and he sniffed the air for a moment before raising his wand.

"Get down," he whispers and I obey immediately.

I crouch by the wall and cover my head as three Death eaters run towards us with their wands blazing.

Charlie starts fighting them off with deadly curses and he takes one down in the matter of seconds before another runs up to take it's place like a hydra. Charlie is a great wizard and his curses hit home multiple times, but there are too many of them for one wizard... even I can see that.

I crawl towards one of the fallen Death Eaters and pry the wand from his dead fingers.

I'm so over the horrors.

I throw a curse to one of the men in a silver Death Eater's mask and it hits him in the chest. He cusses and then his attention turns to me.

"Ginny!" Charlie yells at me, but I don't listen to him as I help his duel.

We take down the rest of the duelers after a long fight and one of the men managed to take a chunk out of my arm that caused me to scream so loud I'm sure the whole castle could hear it. Charlie killed him quickly and then put his hand on my face.

"Let's go inside," he says, nodding to the Great Hall as he glanced at the missing flesh of my arm that was hurting so badly I thought I was going to die.

We turn to run, but right before we reach the well warded door, a cloud of black smoke appears before us and we both stop short.

When the smoke clears and I see who it is, I feel my insides ice over with fear.

I was almost there.

I was almost safe.

I feel like crying.

"Where are you going?" Tom asks with his dark brow raised as he looks right at me, like he was looking deep into my soul. "I hope you don't think you would be able to get away from me that easily. I can find you anywhere, Ginevra."

Charlie steps in front of me and pushes me behind him. I shake my head and try to move around him because, after all that I've seen, I know Charlie is no match for Tom Riddle. No matter how great I know my brother to be, I know that the Dark Lord is greater.

There's no use denying that fact.

"Leave her alone," Charlie says in a deep and courageous voice and the Dark Lord smiles at him, like a cat ready to play with the mouse.

"Really?" Tom says as he taps his wand against his lips. "That is very sweet of you to try to help, but you're wasting your breath. Judging by the hair color I can assume you're related, yes?" he asks, looking over my brother's shoulder to catch my eye.

I don't respond.

"I will give you this one out," he says, giving me a charming smile like he was doing me a favor. "Run. Run now, boy, and your life will be spared from my wand."

Hearing Tom call Charlie boy seemed ridiculous, but I couldn't get over the fear that had seized my heart. That was a good deal. A great deal my brother needed to take.

"Run, Charlie," I whisper as I reach forward to embrace his hand. I know what the Dark Lord can do and we have his undivided attention right now. Charlie doesn't stand a chance. "Run."

"Listen to your sister, Charlie," Tom says with a smirk. "And perhaps you may survive this battle."

"I'm not running and leaving my sister with a tyrant like you."

"Tyrant?" the Dark Lord snaps and the venom in his voice makes me flinch. "I am hardly a tyrant. But... if it's a tyrant you want..."

He lifts his wand and I can see it coming. I push Charlie to the side and deflect the curse quickly, much to the surprise of Volemort, who raises his eyebrows.

Then he starts laughing.

"You will have to do much better than that, my sweet, to stop me."

"My sweet?" my brother says in disgust as I redden in embarrassment.

"Didn't you know, Charlie?" Tom asks cruelly as he takes a step closer to us. "Your sister and I share a very special bond," he says with mirth in his eyes as he leers at me, no doubt remembering what he did to me earlier.

I feel like I need to take a shower again and he smiles when he sees me cross my arm over my stomach.

Charlie doesn't bother with a response as he lifts his wand to throw a curse at the always diligent Dark Lord.

Tom deflects it and, with the same swish of his hand, rips the wands from both of our hands. I barely have time to blink as he shoots a curse right to Charlie's chest to kill him.

"No!" I scream as he falls to the ground, the green from the killing curse still burned into my retinas. "No!" I scream again as I run to kneel beside him, only to get tugged back by Voldemort. "No!"

His strong arm snakes around my middle, flushing me against his chest. "No!" I was sobbing and I fell limp in Tom's arms as I kept repeating that word over and over again as I stare at my brother. "No..."

"Hush now," Voldemort whispers against my ear like I was being silly about the matter. "Come, I will have someone take you home," he says and I scoff at the word coming from his lips. "This is no place for a lady and I have a teenage boy I must kill again."

He lifts me easily and my rage returns as I look at Charlie, huddled on the floor. Dead.

"No," I kick to get out of his arms and he lets me drop to the ground, landing painfully on my knees. I get up and start running as he laughs, telling me to run all I like because he will get me in the end.

He always gets me in the end.

I sprint down the stairs, flames from the nearby torches flicking far into the air as I run.

One of the towers collapses on top of the trolls outside as the windows shake and shatter down the hall. Green flames start to eat up half the castle as I blast Death Eaters across the hall with sobs in my chest. Bones crack and crunch with each step of my feet.

Blood. Flames. Sweat. Tears. Blood. Flames. Sweat. Tears.

Screams.

Screams.

Screams.

Screams.

Darkness.

I make it all the way to the courtyard and I can hear people yelling my name as I try to find myself again. Trying to focus as the world around me spins and blurs in front of my eyes. I hear my name once more and I turn to my right. I see Draco running towards me, my tunnel vision bringing him into focus as he calls my name.

Then he stops short and his eyes narrow at something directly behind me.

Then I feel the pull around my middle once more, a familiar icy arm around my waist, as a wand gets pressed to my neck.

"I told you I would catch you," Tom whispers against my ear, his voice low and dangerous with hate. "It was only a matter of time."

He shoots a curse right into my neck and I slump in his arms.

Darkness.

Darkness.

Screams.

When I dream, I dream flying. High and far above an ocean of blood.

When I wake up, I find myself in an unfamiliar bedroom that has deep green curtains and a small fireplace against the opposite wall. I get up quickly to survey my surroundings at a more agreeable position and I cross my arms over my chest as I back myself against the wall.

It was just a plain old bedroom, nothing too grand or too suspicious about.

I try to remember what happened last... How I ended up in this place.

The battle of Hogwarts. Charlie dying... Draco running towards me.

I stand against the wall for a while, letting my despair over take me as I remember all I had seen and all that had been done to me. All the blood... so much blood... Sobs wrack my body into a sniveling mess of tears and snot with my grief over what I had lost. After ages of crying, I find my resolve once again. I stand straight, on my guard, and I try to find out where I am.

After deciding there are no threats visible in the room, I look down at what I'm wearing. At the battle, I was still wearing the dress from the Malfoy Christmas party... some pleated cranberry colored thing that Ruth picked out...

I wasn't wearing that now, though. I was wearing one of those thin night slips and I put my hand up to my mouth when I realize what that meant.

Someone had changed me while I was blacked out... someone... I lift the slip... someone had changed my knickers too.

That made me very... very...very uneasy. My skin seems fresh and clean and my hair smells like strawberries... I run my hand over my right arm where that curse had taken a chunk of my flesh, but it was gone... it was healed and not even a scar was left to make it real.

I look around the almost too perfect room again and realize something.

I have to get out of here.

I run towards the door. It opens easily and I pause in the hallway to take in my surroundings. It was just like any other hallway in a grand house... but it wasn't like Zabini's mansion or Malfoy Manor... it was a different home all together and as I tentatively walk though the halls, I kept up my guard.

Thoughts of Charlie, Abarax Malfoy, and the countess others I had lost during the battle swim in my mind.

I wish I had my wand...

I grab a candle stick from a nearby table and hold it up like a Quidditch bat. If I can't do magic, I can sure put up a good fight. I'm tired of being the victim in my own story and waiting for someone else to save me. No one can save me but myself, I've decided.

I sneak down the hallway, waiting to hear voices to give me a clue to where I am... but the house is silent. The place is bare. In fact, a lot of the rooms don't even have furniture in them.

The house has an odd smell to it as well... like fresh paint and newly cut wood...When I was young, my parents added a new level to our house to give Charlie and Bill their own rooms. That smell was in the house for months...

I don't see anyone and when I get down stairs, I look out of one of the front windows. All I see is a large velvety green lawn as far as the eye could see, surrounded by a gathering of trees far away from the house, making a wall of wood to keep people out... or people in for that matter.

I frown and then go to the front door with the candle stick held loosely in my right hand. I hesitate one moment before bringing my hand out to the knob and turning.

It doesn't open. I guess, deep down, I knew it wouldn't.

I go over to the window and try to pry it open. It refuses to budge and I inhale a deep breath before picking up the candle stick and bashing it against the glass.

It bounces back, like the window was made of rubber, and I hiss in pain when my arm twists oddly from the impact. I try again on another window, only to have it do the same thing and I bite my lower lip with a hand on my hip as I try to figure out what I should do.

"The miss can never leave."

I jump and look over my shoulder in surprise. There, standing right behind me, is an albino elf wearing a tea cozy dress. I thought for half a second that it was Zabini's elf, Franklin, but upon closer inspection, I realized that this creature in front of me was of the female variety... even if her voice sounded like a deep dark pit.

"What?" I ask stupidly as I clutch the candle stick once more, ready to strike.

"The miss can not leave," the elf says, her voice low and raspy like a life long smoker. "The Master of Lords does not permit it."

"But..." I lick my lips. "Where am I?" I ask, changing my tactic as I scoot back against the door, checking the corners of the hallway to make sure no one can sneak up on me.

"This was not a magical house," she says, her tired eyes taking me with disdain. "The Master has made it a wizard's home now and gotten rid of all the muggle filth," she says and I furrow my brows. "Faun is to show you where you eat, sleep, and change, and then you is to by yourself."

"By myself?" I ask and she nods her head, her large ears dropping with the movement. "No one else is here?"

"No visitor, no owls, no leaving," she says and then she turns her back to me and beckons me with her hand. "Faun will show you now. It is time for breakfast."

I pause a moment before following her. I'm not exactly sure what my next course of action is, so I follow with the candle stick still in hand. When we get to a large drawing room with ornate golden carpets, Faun... I guess is her name... waves to a set of book shelves set into the right side of the wall.

"The miss can read," she says and I almost snort. I guess I won't be entertaining any guests in this room, after all.

That leads up to the dinning room, which is a bit smaller than the one at Zabini house, but still big enough to be intimidatingly beautiful. The windows are large and let the sunlight in and there's another fireplace... not big enough to be a floo connected one, but it still had an elaborate looking marble mantle that had cherubs and 'R's molded into it... Above the mantle it was uncomfortably empty, like a photo or painting had hung there once but had eventually been taken down... and never replaced.

In fact, it made the whole room seem off and when I finally see the warm food still steaming on the table, I raise my brows.

"This miss will eat now," Faun says and I make a face.

"I'm not hungry," I admit and Faun shakes her head again, her purple eyes bugged out in anger.

"The Master of Lords says the Miss is to eat every meal!" she yells and then she snaps her fingers.

The chair that I was standing beside suddenly creaks to life and I give it a surprised look before the elf uses her magic to push me into it.

"What are you doing?" I snap. I can't believe a house elf is treating me so roughly.

She snaps again and the arms of the chair comes to life and fold around my waist like a chain that was binding me.

"What is this?" I ask as I try to pry the arms away with my fingernails. "Stop this!"

"Eat."

"No! I'm not hungry!"

"Eat!" she yells at me and I give her a look because of the way she's talking to me.

"I will not."

"Fine," she says and then she pops away. I fight with my chair captive and claw at it until my fingers bleed.

She doesn't come back and the arms begin to tighten around my midsection, making it hard to breathe with each creak of it's wooden arms. It's starting to hurt too much, so I pick up my fork and take the first bite of eggs in hopes that it will loosen it's grip.

The arms loosen.

Another bite... more room to breathe.

By the time my plate was finished, the arms were back in their original place and I looked at the elf when she popped back into the room with her bony arms crossed.

"Now Faun will show you your room."

"I think I can find it on my own," I say in a deadly voice.

"No, Faun will show you."

Fuck off, Faun, I think darkly in my head but I don't want to be out magicked by a house elf again, so I follow her up the stairs to the room I had woken up in. She goes over to a wardrobe and opens it. All of my clothes are there, hanging and sorted by color.

"Where's my wand?" I ask and Faun shakes her head.

"No magic for Miss."

Of course.

"What about the rest of the things in my trunk?" I ask, thinking of my notebook and the velvet bag of potions.

"They are in your drawer," she says, pointy a knobby finger to a desk along the wall.

I go over to it and open up one of the drawers. There's my notebook. I pick it up quickly and open it to the middle. I sigh in relief when I see my words are still in there. The elf says something about leaving, but I don't care as I start sorting through the other drawers. Then in the bottom right one, I find the bag Ruth Davenport had gifted me.

I sigh out loud as I take it out and then I dump the small vials on my bed once the elf leaves.

Thank god.

I pick up the birth control and down it quickly. I will take NO chances now... Would it work if I was already pregnant? I'm sure I'm not. I couldn't... I would know, right?

I pick up the one that will abort a pregnancy and I read the back. One dosage is the whole bottle and it will kill the fetus at any stage in the womb. I make a face as I imagine that... What if it was Draco's baby? I would never kill something that I made with him... but Tom...

My stomach turns and I place my hand over it.

That didn't feel good.

It turns again and I drop to my knees with one hand on the bed to support myself as I let my head drop. I start breathing a little bit heavier and then... and then...

I cover my mouth and run to the bathroom.

The potion I just swallowed starts to come right back up along with most of my breakfast. I drop to my knees in front of the toilet as I heave and make odd choking noises until all the contents of my stomach are expelled. I can see the gold of the potion throughout the mess and shake my head weakly with sweat drenching my face.

No.

No.

No.

I throw up one more time before I slump against the floor, exhausted and burning from what I just did. Why did that happen? I wasn't feeling sick.

I look towards the toilet once again and I cringe.

Did that mean the potion... did that mean the potion won't work now? I only had one bottle!

After I calm myself down I lift off the floor and flush the mess. I wash my face and I brush my teeth quickly before going back into the bedroom.

What now?

I sit on the bed and take out my notebook and a pen. I start writing about what happened at the battle. I leave out the rape at Folk Hills... because I can't... I can't write that down. It makes it real. It makes it solid. I shake my head and start writing down the people who I had seen at Hogwarts. All the Order members who had died... my brother...

Tears swim in my eyes again, but I push them away.

I cry too much.

I keep going until I pass out from exhaustion and when I wake in the morning, I take a shower that lasts for hours.

After scrubbing my body raw, I realize something very troubling.

No matter what I do... no matter how many times I wash or clean or bathe my body... no matter what... I was always going to feel dirty now.

And it was his fault.

The days mash and fold together in a long continuous stream of nothingness. The books in the drawing room were hardly entertaining... most of them are books about purebloods and the importance of genetics in the creation of magical children.

It was ridiculous and I didn't want to read any of those damn things. I never saw Faun again, but a bell would ring for each meal, breakfast, lunch, dinner and like Pavlov's dogs I would respond to it readily.

I ate everything placed before me because I didn't want to chance getting trapped by the chair again and I knew that I wouldn't be permitted a snack later because there was actually no food in the kitchen. I found that out when I finally found it on a lower level. In fact, there was nothing in the kitchen and I started to wonder where my food came from. Who made it and how did they transport it here?

There was no getting out of here... I tried. I tried each day only to fail and fail again.

I was getting terribly lonely. All that I had was my notebook and it would keep me company as I wrote down my story in striking detail because I had the time to do so.

I wonder sometimes, if this is what my life will be. I will be forever in this house... forever alone for the rest of eternity.

Sometimes I wonder if I actually died during the battle of Hogwarts and this was my own personal hell.

That thought makes me sad.

I traveled every inch of the house and found nothing of interest, that was, until today when I found the hidden door to the attic. It was hidden behind a very out of place wardrobe in an empty wing of the manor. I just happened to peek behind it and saw the hinges of a door.

It's taken me hours to move the damn thing and I'm sweating like a madwoman by the time I have it scooted far enough away to get to the green door it was hiding.

I open it, it wasn't locked, and I smile to myself as I start up the narrow stairway. There isn't much up here, honestly. I see a few bits of furniture covered in sheets and a couple of white boxes with lids covering them from debris.

I uncover a wing backed chair and pull one of the boxes towards me as I take a seat. Inside is nothing really interesting... just old photographs of people I don't know and ancient looking receipts handwritten on yellowed paper. Who ever this family was they were loaded and bought the most expensive things imported from France and the America's in the early twenties and thirties.

A name on one of the ledgers stopped me for a moment and I furrow my brows as I read it a few times.

Riddle.

That was too close to be a coincidence and I start to comb through all of the boxes of the prior muggle owners of this house with a fever until a find a muggle photo of a man who looks suspiciously like Tom Marvolo Riddle. It makes my heart stop, it's so dead on. It sends back violent memories of the chamber of secrets and I start to have a panic attack as I put the photo down and clench my eyes shut.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

After a few moments, I finally get myself under control and I open my eyes to look at the photo again. It has the name 'Junior' written along the bottom in spidery handwriting and I lick my lips before stuffing it in my notebook.

Half blood... Draco had called him that time and time again... and now I knew why.

It was true.

There were a few wooden chests that held the papers and personal belongings of a another muggle family called the Wrigleys. I suspect they lived here after the Riddles because the dates were a little later on their papers. A teenage girl named Mary had lived here during the sixties and she had a whole collection of records that were in an old milk crate hiding under one of the tables.

I brought them with me downstairs and listened to them on a record player I found in one of the bare rooms on the lower level.

Most of them were soundtracks from musical muggle films and I would listen to them with my eyes closed, pretending like I was living in one of their stories, dancing and singing and enjoying life.

That was about as interesting as the house got and the time flew by slowly... a loud ticking clock above the fireplace in the drawing room is the only thing that lets me know that time moves forward.

It felt like I would be stuck for years alone the house, until a large Death Eater named Yaxley came to receive me one night while I was writing by the fire. He has a nose that looks like a pig snout and his presence frightened me because he looks so firm and serious.

He tells me to put on a nice dress.

I didn't even question it.

I refuse to wear something that was bought with the Dark Lord's money, so I pull out the red polka dot dress my mother had made me for my birthday.

I had hated it then, but now I feel like it's better than any armor I could have. It makes me remember who I was... who I am still, and the death eater raises his brows at me when I come down the stairs in it and a pair or riding boots just in case I have to run.

I look at Yaxley and his unfortunate appearance as he Apparates us to a large manor house surrounded by a few large lakes.

I look up at the unfamiliar home as I swallow hard. Why was I being dragged here? What was the purpose? With dread in my stomach, I'm pulled inside and into a dinning room. There was quite a spread of Death Eater's in dark robes with the Dark Lord keeping house at the head of the table.

I feel sick again.

This was all too similar to a very vivid nightmare that had terrorized me in my youth. I'm made to sit at the other end of the table and Yaxley pours red wine into the glass in front of me, over shooting it and spilling some wine on the white table cloth. I send a shy glance around the table as I try not to tremble like a frightened little girl... but deep down I just want to hide under the table and never come out.

The Malfoy's were no where to be seen, of course. They were officially blood traitors in the eyes of the people I was sitting around. I see Wormtail at the end of the table, his body swollen and bruised from the tumbling pillar. I was hoping he would be dead, but there he is... sitting there... eating a greased leg of some kind of bird. I feel the anger boiling in my heart again and then I sense someone's stare so I turn to Tom.

He gives me an amused smirk and he winks at me.

I look away quickly, a blush staining my cheeks. The other people left from the Dark Lord's original inner circle are Millicent's Uncle Damian, who sat to the right of the Dark Lord with a piercing gaze. Crabbe Sr. and Gregory Goyle's parents who looked hard pressed to speak at the moment because they look so pale.

My stomach twists in knots as I look around me. His inner circle was dead, but there were others who would readily take their spots and every seat was full of dark and menacing looking witches and wizards... including the Carrows. Alecto smiles at me as I glance at her so I quickly look away.

What was the meaning of all this?

"Ginevra," the Dark Lord says my name and I look over the display of food to see him at the other end of the table.

He's wearing another dark three piece suit made of a material that almost looks plum when the light catches it just right and he's drinking a glass of wine that he lifts in my direction.

I swallow hard... this is all too close for comfort. My dream... my nightmare... becoming a reality.

"My beautiful, my sweet, my darling..." he says mockingly and the others laugh.

I know they aren't terms of endearment coming from his heart. He doesn't have a heart. He's just making fun of me in front of his raving fans and my cheeks heat in embarrassment.

"It is so good to see you again. How are you liking your new home?"

I don't say anything. I can't.

"I imagine you love it," he says with a smile. Wormtail laughs around a mouth full of food and I give him a disgusted look. "I do hope that you aren't ungrateful. I could have sent you back to that pathetic shack your family called a home," he snaps and everyone laughs again.

I would rather be there than anywhere in the world right now.

He hisses something. The door opens and his snake slithers into the room. When she gets by me, she runs her body across my foot.

"Oh, how Nagini has missed you," he says as I cringe.

Nagini's tongue feels around my calf and I clench my eyes shut before she slithers to the other side of the table... by him.

"You are looking well," he says, giving me a once over that makes me want to melt into the background. "I see three square meals a day have really made you look more healthy. I dare to say that you are glowing. There is nothing less attractive than a skinny woman made of bones and skin."

They all agree, the mindless masses, and I lick my dry lips as the Dark Lord watches me. It's uncomfortable to have his undivided attention... and it's made even more uncomfortable when the others notice his long stare.

Suddenly, his attention shifts to a long and lanky Death Eater who has a rather round ended nose. The man produces a letter from his breast pocket and hands it to Tom.

I watch, fear making me shake, as his sharp eyes scan the page and then he crumples the letter in his hand.

"It looks as though Malfoy Manor is still unattainable," he says with a grim smile as he throws the letter behind him.

It hits the floor and rolls away towards the fire.

"Abarax was always very talented with his ward spells," he says and I can detect the displeasure in his voice as he tries to smile at the other Death Eaters. "It's a shame really. I wanted to use that grand estate for my own pleasure and then I would burn it down for all the world to see. Pride was always the worst of sins with that family."

"We would all help, my lord!" some pinch faced looking woman with a high voice says eagerly from her chair. "The Malfoy's are the worst blood traitors!" she pretends to spit on the ground and the Dark Lord gives her a crooked smile before taking a drink from his glass.

"If I got a hold of that Lucius traitor I would snap his neck!" another one said.

"Make them pay!" screamed another. "Skin them alive!"

I swallow hard and look at my lap as I imagine all of these things coming to pass... but then I feel something warm settle in my chest as they all speak of the terrible things that are to be done to Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco Malfoy when they're finally caught... I think it's because I know they're alive now... they have to be considering all the rage that's being shot around the table right now.

I almost smile.

"Yes, I'm sure you all would do a great many things if given the chance," he says sarcastically putting his attention on another death eater who has one milky white eye. "Donoholv," he says and the man bows in head in respect. Ugh. "Would you say that the goblins at Gringotts are still firmly under your control?" he asks as he puts his chin in his hand like he was having a casual conversation.

"Yes, my Lord," the man named Donoholv says with a sharp nod of his head.

"Hm," Tom nods his head and then looks down at me as he fiddles with the stem on his wine glass. I look away again before he turns back to the Death Eater in question. "If that is true, then I find it very odd that they didn't alert you when Lucius Malfoy went to Gringotts two weeks ago and withdrew everything from all five of the Malfoy family vaults."

"Umm..." Donoholv's face colors immediately and I can see the sweat forming on his brow as he sputters for an explanation.

I don't foresee this ending well for Mr. Donoholv.

"Did the Goblins alert you to that fact?" he asks with a dark brow raised in question and Donoholv struggles with the answer. "It's not a hard inquiry," he snaps. "The Malfoy's have a rather substantial fortune and if they were to pull out all their valuables from the bank, someone would have heard about it."

The man can't seem to find his voice and I look at him from the corner of my eyes as he brings his napkin up to his upper lip to wipe the sweat.

"If what you say is true, and the Goblins are firmly under your control, then I must see that as a form of treason for aiding a traitor to my regime."

Donoholv pales at that and starts sputtering again.

"But if the goblins did not tell you about Malfoy's movements two weeks ago, than I can only deduce that you, in fact, do not have them under your control as you had told me. Making you a liar to your Lord and a lazy follower who I should replace."

The Dark Lord removes a wand from his pocket and puts it on the table. We all watch him as he rolls it back and forth on the table cloth.

"So, which is it, Doloholv? Are you a traitor or are you a liar?"

The choices were not good for the nervous looking Death Eater and even though I knew he probably deserved it... even though I knew he was a terrible person... I felt kind of bad for him. He just looked so... fucked.

"No answer?" The Dark Lord mocks. "Well, how about some time in the pit? I think that will help," he says and then he waves his hand. The Carrows get up and drag the man from his seat.

He yells and pleads the whole way as they remove him the from the room and I feel my hands shaking under the table as I try not to cry. The pit must be a terrible place to make a middle aged death eater with one terrible looking eye scream and beg like that.

A silence falls over the hall once he's gone and my breathing starts to quicken as I try not to break down and have a panic attack in front of all these... people...

I start scratching my nails over my thighs, hiking up the skirt of my dress so I can get to my skin... making it burn.

"What has you so disgruntled, my darling?" The Dark Lord asks after a lifetime and I look up at him as he swallows more wine from his glass.

I scratch so hard I feel like I might break skin.

"You seem to have such delicate sensibilities," he says with a mocking smile and I ball my hands into fists. I shouldn't scratch... Dr. Carole wouldn't like it.

Tom killed Dr. Carole.

"Did that display upset you?" he asks, making a sweeping motion to the door where the man had been dragged. "My poor girl," he says with a twinkling smile.

I'm sweating... I can feel it on my brow and I resist wiping it off.

"Perhaps it was a bit premature of me to bring you out of your secured little home. "

I look down and wish to blend into the background as he taps his glass with a silver knife.

He pulls something from his pocket and I flick a glance up as he puts the golden compact on the table. I had almost forgotten about that... I had forgotten that he took it. "Do you remember this, my love?" he asks with brows raised.

Is he really going to call me those kinds of names all night?

He turns it in his hands and I watch as Wormtail eyes it curiously.

I don't know who I hate more...

Tom stands up and holds it in his left hand as he starts walking around the table... right towards me.

"Of course you do, my Ginevra," he says in a softer voice and I can feel the chills in the room as he passes by each person, his fingers tapping against the heads of the chairs.

When he gets right beside me, he places the golden compact on my empty plate and he puts some of my hair over my shoulder. The movement sends a chill down my spine and I inhale a shaky breath as the back of his fingers brush against my neck... where the marks of his bite are still healing.

"You are a clever little thing, are you not?" he asks gently as his fingers trail down to my collar bone. "But not as clever as that mudblood Potter runs around with. You see," he says, bending down so his cold breath is against my cheek.

He clicks open the compact and I'm left staring at my terrified reflection.

"She knew right away when we presented Harry Potter with a false you," he says, his lips turning against my temple and I feel my eyes getting wet. "Barely even got a word out before the connection was blocked."

"What do you want from me?" I whisper.

He smiles. "I want you to leave him a message," he says, tapping the table with his fingertips.

He stands up straight and makes a motion to the door.

Three odd looking people start to file into the room like they just happened to stumble upon it. One is a large man with no neck and he's looking around the dining hall full of the worst witches and wizards in the world with his bushy brows raised like he was appraising the room of it's worth. The woman by his side is much taller than him with a thin upper lip and a rather unpleasant looking face.

"Quite gaudy, don't you think, Vernon?" she says with her hand through the arm of a meaty looking boy with blonde hair that looks like straw. He's younger, around my age. "Too dark for my tastes and can you imagine! Purple walls!"

"It is rather dark," the man says. "Look at all the candles, Petunia. What is up with that? Do they not believe in electricity in this part of the country?"

"Probably got the power cut," the woman says with her nose tilted in the air... totally oblivious to the others in the room. "This place smells dirty."

Petunia? Vernon?

I know those names... I look at them again, and then it hits me.

I do know them.

They have to be Harry's aunt and uncle... and... I look at the confused beefy boy again... and his cousin.

The Dursleys.

"Muggles," the Dark Lord smirks against my ear as they look around the dining room, touching tables and commenting on the tapestries on the wall. "Easily fooled by magic. Unable to hold off even the simplest of imperious charms," he adds. He shakes his head as they walk about the room, not knowing they had just stumbled into a snakes den. "Such simple creatures."

"Why are they here?" I ask with a troubled frown as they continue on like they were the only people in the room.

He makes another motion with his hand and the doors open again. This time someone I recognize right off the bat comes into the room and I can feel my chest pull when I see Blaise...

He doesn't look frightened and he's not being dragged in.

In fact, he looks perfectly pleased as he comes in, his face as perfect looking as ever.

"Zabini?" I can't help but say and he smirks at me. "What..."

"I told you that there is always a rat, Ginevra," Tom says as Blaise approaches with a small box in his hands. "And it's always surprising, is it not?"

Suddenly I feel the most overwhelming desire to hurt Blaise Zabini. I know Draco may be alive... but he might be hurt... I don't know who in my family survived the battle at Hogwarts and I blame all of that... everything... on him.

He was the rat.

He was the Wormtail of the group and anger blinds me.

All of his riddles and annoying words...

When he gets close enough to hand off the box to the Dark Lord. I push myself out of my seat. The chair skids across the floor and Blaise doesn't even have a moment to defend himself as I hold onto his shoulders and knee him square in the crotch. I was pulled back before I could inflict more damage and I even think I spit on him as Tom Riddle laughed.

"How very muggle of you," Tom smirked as I was pushed back into my chair by a faceless death eater.

My breath was heavy as Blaise recovered from my attack and his had was still shaking as he put the box on the table.

"I can't believe you," I hiss at him, ignoring the others as I send him waves of negative thoughts.

He refuses to look at me as he pours himself a glass of wine and I take pleasure in seeing his hand shake with the movement. I know that I hurt him and I hope it takes a crew of healers to fix it.

"I knew I hated you for a reason," I tell him and then he finally looks at me, his golden eyes hard and unforgiving.

I hate him.

I hate this place.

I hate everyone.

I didn't want to be here anymore.

It was a split second decision and I aimed for the dining room door as I got up, covering my ears while I ran so I wouldn't hear any demands that would make me come back.

I made it all the way to the front door before I was tackled to the ground and I hissed and fought with my captor before I realized it was Blaise.

"Calm down, Weasley. You know you won't be able to get far," he says as he struggles to keep me still.

"You're a traitor!" I yell at him as I bring a hand up and scratch my fingernails down his perfect looking face.

He hisses in pain as blood starts to bead from the wounds, but he doesn't back up. It just seemed to reinvigorate his efforts and I whimpered when he wrestled me to my back and put his knee on my sternum.

"Traitor to whom, Ginny?" he hisses in my face. "Huh? Traitor? What do I believe in?" he snaps at me, his eyes looking wild and full of emotion. "The Order? Draco? Purebloods? What did I go against?" I twist in his grasp but he holds firm.

"Stop fighting," he snaps at me, his face twisted in anger around the violent red scratches. "You know he's going to make you go back... and trust me... you don't want him to be the one looking for you."

"Let me up," I struggle. "I can't breathe. You're too heavy!"

"Shut up, Weasley," he sighs loudly and then he moves his knee, letting me breathe before laying on top of me, keeping me in place with his weight.

He's too close to me... he's laying on me too intimately and I try to buck him off, but he bends down and presses his lips close to my ear.

"You need to start questioning things," he whispers sharply. "The Dark Lord... Draco... they had the power to make you do anything they wanted... they could make you a soulless creature in Azkaban who had no say or drive in life... they could do that... but they didn't. Do you know why?"

"Get off of me," I snap at him as he presses his leg between mine to hold me in place.

"They didn't, Ginny. Not because they didn't want to. Not because it was better off if you came around on your own. Why didn't they do it? And why hasn't the Dark lord done it himself? You're just a girl, Weasley. Nothing special, right? Just a girl with some strong blood... Why haven't they swiped your mind...Why has the Dark Lord propositioned to train you... why haven't they killed your family?"

I hold still now.

"Because they know what's boiling under the surface. You touched it a little bit at Hogwarts..." he trails off and pulls back to look into my eyes. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do," he says gently. "Bond... no bond... whatever. They have no real power over you and they know it. They're just hoping that you never find that out."

"I..." I trail off, confused by what he's telling me and then I raise my brows in surprise as he bends down and plants a soft and quick kiss against my lips before pulling back with a pleased little smirk.

"Just thought I'd throw one of those in there," he adds as he loosens his hold on my arm. "Who knows when I'm going to get the chance to ever do that again," he says with a shrug as he helps me to my feet.

"I never know what you're talking about," I admit and he watches me as I wipe off my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Didn't anyone tell you, Ginny?" he asks with a brow raised as I look into his eyes. "I'm a liar," he smirks a devilish little smirk. "And I'm damn good at it too."

What?

He lets that smile drop as he looks me over, his eyes looking much older now than they ever did before. "Wars are not won in a day," he says softly, gently. He reminds me of Abarax at club house five. "They take time and everyone has to do their part. Like chess, remember?" I nod my head as I think of his analogy. "We're just getting into position."

"I don't want to play anymore," I whisper and he gives me a sad look. I don't want to receive looks like that from him of all people.

"That's not your call, I'm afraid."

A second later, I hear the slithering of a large snake and I look down the hall to see Nagini headed towards us.

I glare at her and Zabini takes my arm roughly.

"Aren't you glad I volunteered to grab you?" he says, pulling me down the hall with the snake close behind like a guard. "You know she would have bitten you."

When we get back to the dining room, Tom was speaking to the others at the table over a map and Blaise practically threw me into my seat. It hurt and I whimpered as I tried not to show how painful it was.

"Take a seat, Mr. Zabini," Tom said, making a sweeping motion to the unoccupied seat by my own. "Before she decides to make it so you never have children in the future."

They all laugh like puppets and I glare at Zabini with everything I have. I hate his riddles. I hate his lies... he does lie, right? Isn't that one of his things? How am I supposed to know what's real?

"Enough of that," Tom taps my shoulder so I reluctantly tear my glaze away from Blaise to focus on him as he clicks open the box. "Be cordial to my guests."

Inside of the box is a dagger, and when I see it I send a panicked look to the Dursleys, who are still mulling about the room like it was afternoon tea. I've seen a dagger like that some where before... but I just can't place it right now.

"I am tired of playing this tug of war game with Harry Potter," he says with a sigh. "It must end now. I have more important things to do than worry about a young boy ruining all of my very thought out plans," he says as he removes the dagger from the box and he holds it up to the light. "I want to bring him out of hiding again... and I need you to do that for me."

"Why are they here, then?" I ask with a dry throat as I nod to the Dursleys. "Harry doesn't even like them... they were so terrible to him. They hate magic."

"Yes," Tom nods his head, mocking sympathy. "But you see, the thing about you little Dumbledore lovers is that you will do anything for anyone if you think it's your fault they're in pain."

He hands the dagger off to Alecto Carrow. "Kill the young one," he says and I go to stand up as she takes off towards Dudley Dursley, who's staring at one of the moving paintings with a quirked head. "Make it bloody."

Tom puts his hand on my shoulder, keeping me in place with his iron grip and a silent demand that my body listens to with out my consent.

"This is an odd telly, don't you think..." As soon as the youngest Dursley turned to speak to his parents, Alecto Carrow came up behind him and slashed his throat with one sweeping motion of her hand.

The vomit got stuck in my throat as blood started to spill from the gash like a waterfall. He gargled and fell to his knees as he tried to reach for something... anything to help. Right before he died... he noticed all of us and he was looking right at me as he slumped against the hard marble floor... dark blood pooling around his body and spreading.

I will never get used to seeing such horrors and I felt tears blurring my eyes as the Dark Lord petted my neck.

"Do you suppose this is real silver?" his mother asks, walking right past her dead son. Petunia Dursley steps in the blood and her shoes leave bloody foot prints as she walks towards one of the candle stick holders.

"Good," the Dark Lord claps his hand before turning to me. "Now, press that button and leave Mr. Potter a message for me, will you, my love?" He blinks at me, red eyes almost black with magic. "Let him know that I am tired of playing this game... let him know that it is time for him to die."

"I don't... What am I suppose to say?" I ask with a shaking voice and he reaches down and clicks the button on the side of compact.

It doesn't ring, of course, it goes straight to recording a message.

Tom stands behind me and puts his hands on my shoulder as I stare at the reflection, knowing that it's saving it like a memory so the person on the other side of the mirror can watch.

"Tell him what just happened," he says as he bends down to whisper against my ear. "Or I'll kill someone else to encourage you."

I look at my reflection.

"Harry," I start out awkwardly. "Your... they just... your cousin just was killed," my voice sounds odd to my ears... like it was almost too high for it to sound normal.

"Tell him that I will kill his aunt and uncle as well," he whispers, just soft enough for me to hear as he runs his hand over my neck and collar bone.

It made me sick thinking someone else would be able to see him touching me so intimately. When his fingers started dance along the top of my dress, I felt my face pale and when the hand went further down, dancing over my breasts before resting on my stomach, I feel tears sting my eyes. What would Harry think? Would my parents see this? Would Draco.?

I felt the cry get stuck in my throat again and I had to cough before I could continue.

"They have your aunt and uncle too... they might kill them."

He makes a motion with his hand and then I hear screaming. I ignore the compact and my head snaps to Petunia Dursley as the Dark Lord finally removes his hand from my stomach. One of the Death Eaters woke her up from the curse and she noticed her dead son... She dropped to her knees by his side, her pale pink skirt becoming saturated from the blood she's kneeling in.

I put my hand on my heart at the sight and I blink back more tears.

The Dark Lord hums a little song to himself as he turns the compact so it will record the image as Petunia Dursley screams so loud that it makes the room vibrate. The pain in her voice is real... so real that it's heart breaking and even though I knew she had been terrible to Harry his whole life... I still felt horrible for her. For having to see her son like that... for realizing as she looked up that she was in a room with the things she despised most in her life.

I wonder if she feels justified in her hatred of wizards and witches and all things magic now? She looks at us like a scared animal backing up in a corner and I can't say that I could blame her if she thought that.

"Hello," Tom says pleasantly when she notices him finally, standing by me at the head of the table.

He picks up the compact and turns it towards her again to catch the expression of pure terror on her face.

"I'm not a boy," The Dark Lord says and I figure he must have pulled a thought from her mind. He tisks his tongue and looks at the table of followers. "Stupid muggle," he says. "She thinks I'm just a teenage boy like her nephew."

They all laugh again and then he turns back to the frightened looking woman. I can't say I blame her for thinking that. Tom does look young now... like a young man just out of university and his mocking remarks and smirk do little to deter from it.

"I can assure you I am no boy," he says, taking a step closer to her. "I am Lord Voldemort," he says proudly. "And you, pathetic woman," he adds insult to injury as he eyes her tears in distaste. "Have had the mass misfortune of being related to Harry Potter."

"I knew that boy was no good," she says as she crawls backwards until she's by one of the pillars that holds up the fireplace mantle. She puts her arm around it like it would protect her from the darkest wizard in history. "We didn't want him from the start! No good wizard like his father..."

"Do you hate wizards?" he asks curiously, like he was concerned by her opinion.

"Magic is the work of the devil," she says in a hysterical voice as she hugs the pillar like her life depended on it. "Demons the lot of you!" she screams as she points a shaking finger to the table of the worst witches and wizards a muggle could point an accusing finger at.

"Well," the dark lord smiles with the compact still in hand. "In that case..."

He makes another motion with his hand.

Harry's uncle was still talking about the tapestries on the wall and he had walked closer to me to admire the meal set on the table. He had ended up right between me and Blasie and he was eating a chicken leg, oblivious to anything happening in the real word.

He was talking to his dead son about how the chicken was good despite the surroundings as the Death Eater named Yaxley stood up and removed his wand. Tom circled the table for a better view to record what was about to happen.

He lifted his wand to Harry's uncle and shouted a spell.

I don't know the spell he used, but the impact was instantaneous. Gashes opened on Vernon Dursley's face and neck and I could see it saturate his white staunch shirt as he kept talking about the chicken, still under the imperious curse. Too far gone to realize he was going to bleed to death. Yaxley did another curse that took a chunk out of his neck, and the attack made blood from the muggle spray over my face.

I was too shocked to move and I just sat there with Harry's uncle's blood splattered on my face as he started to bleed out. Petunia Dursley was screaming so loud that I couldn't even hear him drop to the floor.

I was frozen in my spot with my hands halfway to my face as I stared ahead of me, trying to dissociate myself from the horrors that were happening in front of me. Tom was talking to the compact now... I don't know what he was saying and I don't really care... I just couldn't... I might throw up. I turn to the side and dry heave a few times, but nothing comes so I sit straight and stare down at my lap with my eyes clenched shut, trying to pretend like I'm some where else.

Somewhere safe. Somewhere warm. The Burrow... Draco's bed... anywhere but here.

I start thinking of songs from the record player at Riddle Manor... living in a beautiful land like in the Sound of Music. My favorite of Mary Wrigley's records. I can hear the songs floating in my head as I place myself away from where I am in reality.

I would be perfectly content to live in a dream.

Someone said my name, so I opened my eyes, pulled back to the real world of darkness and blood.

Then the Dark Lord was back by my side, turning the compact towards me to show my shocked and blood splattered face.

"Say goodbye, Ginevra," he says and I glance at the compact, at my reflection.

My face was stark white... even my lips are pale with fright and it makes the blood on my face stand out alarmingly. My eyes look glassed over and if I wasn't breathing so loudly I would say I looked like a dead person... a corpse walking around like a zombie.

"You look ravishing, my love," he jokes again with a cruel smirk. "I've always liked you in red."

I don't respond, I just keep staring at my dead eyed expression in the mirror. I want to be saved now. I want Harry, the Order, Draco... I want them all to come and rescue me. Please. Just save me.

He snaps the compact shut after that and then a few of his followers lift their wands to get rid of the bloody mess and bodies.

"Take her away as well," he says, motioning to the frantic and hysterical woman sobbing on the floor.

He reaches in front of me to grab my glass of wine, downing it all in one gulp.

"You won't be able to kill Harry," I say flatly, bravely, as I feel the hatred for him boil inside of my heart.

He glances at me as he swallows.

"You can't beat him. No matter what you do. He's proven himself against you time and time again and I think deep down you know that he will kill you in the end. Harry will win this war... not you.. Never you..."

Blaise kicks me under the table... I guess to get me to shut up, but I ignore it... I ignore him all together.

"Harry is going to kill you."

He laughed, a short bark of a laugh. "Just like your Mr. Malfoy was going to beat me?" he asks and I feel the pang in my chest at the mention of Draco. He laughs again as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and he throws it on my plate. "Clean yourself," he says with amusement clear in his voice. "You look like hell, Ginny bean."

That did it.

That was the name only my father called me and I knew that the Dark Lord had pulled it from my memories to play with me... to torment me... to embarrass me.

"I hope you die soon," I say with bitterness lacing my every word.

"I can't die," he says, talking to me like I was a child and he touches my face quickly with his finger tips before pulling back. "Have you forgotten that already? The world is such a big scary place for such a frightened little girl, isn't it?" he asked tauntingly. "Things must get so confusing for you."

"I hate you," I hiss at him and then I couldn't stop... the words just kept coming.

I didn't even know what I was saying... I just kept talking about how Harry was going to beat him and how he was weak in comparison. How a boy with with half his experience has gotten the best of him yet again and will continue to do so because...

I started thinking about the house I was staying in and the boxes in the attic... the boy in the diary. Tom Riddle.. Riddle Manor... Tom Marvolo Riddle...I will not follow a half blood, Gin... Draco had said that... he had meant it.

"You will never beat Harry," I tell him as I aim for the jugular. "Because your father was a muggle and you're even more of a half blood than Harry is." I can feel the hush fall over the room as the Dark Lord's eyes narrowed into slits. "You're nothing but a dirty half blood."

I intended the admission to stun... and by God it did.

As soon as that slipped from my mouth I knew I was going to regret it because a silent chill had fallen across the room. Voldemort had a very dark expression on his face as soon as I stopped talking and I thought he was going to hex me, but instead he gently gripped my chin and tilted it towards him.

The calm fury in his eyes was almost too frightening and I wanted to pull away, but I knew I had crossed the line and there was no going back.

"Why do you say such hurtful things?" he asks softly as he runs his knuckles over my cheek with feather light touches, smearing the blood that was starting to dry there. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that if you can't say anything nice, then you shouldn't say anything at all?"

Him mentioning my mother infuriates me... I have no idea what condition she's in.. if she's still alive. I hate him for doing this to us... to me... to the people that I love and when he gives me a cruel and mocking smirk, I can't help it. I don't actually know what came over me, but I narrow my eyes and then I spit right at him.

I was aiming for his face, but it landed somewhere on the lapel of his jacket.

The silence was deafening.

Tom let go of my chin and then he looked at the spit, sliding down the fine material of his jacket. He looked murderous for a moment and then he laughed, a light and humorless laugh as he took the green kerchief from my plate to dab his lapel.

"Oh, how you make me laugh," he says and then the others laughed uncomfortably because they think they should.

I don't. I just stare daggers at him and once my spit is cleaned from his jacket, he puts his hand back on my face. He starts to caress me gently, his finger tips gentle and searching as they run up my neck and over my cheek. He stares into my eyes for what felt like a lifetime before smiling.

"You are such a pretty little thing," he says before bringing his hand back and swiftly smacking me across the face.

It was a surprise attack and it sounded like the crack of a whip, echoing off the walls.

The impact sends my face flying to the side and I bring my hand up to cover the burned cheek as everyone in the room holds their breath. I have never been struck before... not like that... not deliberately in the face by a grown man... I felt like crying, but no tears came out and I glanced at Blaise because...

I don't know why I looked at him... I guess just because he was the only person I knew in this room of snakes...but be wasn't looking at me... he was looking at his empty plate and I hated myself for being embarrassed.

"Why do you do things that make me want to hurt you?" Tom asks thoughtfully as I gather up the courage and the pride to glare at him again, still cupping my throbbing cheek. "You brought that on yourself."

There were chimes of agreement by his followers and I felt a stray tear leak from the corner of my eye with out my permission. I saw him take pleasure in the tear, following it's progression as it dripped down my face... He looked triumphant when another tear fell, thinking he had won the battle of wills and I looked down at my lap... out of shame and anger.. as I plotted my revenge.

Most of it involved sending a large spike right through the bastard's heart.

I can't believe he smacked me... I close my eyes to regroup and inhale a shaking breath.

Tom grabs the back of my neck and I flinch when he squeezes, thinking he's going to hurt me again... like smack my face into the table to break my nose.

"Go to sleep," he says flatly and because of the bond, I feel the itch in my chest and then I close my eyes and slump against the table.

I don't dream about anything or any one. Just blackness... empty cold darkness all around me.

I wake in a soft bed with a man with thick glasses hovering around me. I blink a few times, knowing that my waking hours can be manipulated and when I find the strength, I fumble around until I push myself up in the sitting position.

I'm in the green room at the Riddle house again and a rather pudgy man with sausage fingers is poking around my stomach.

"Stop," I say as I smack his hands away. My voice sounds muffled, like I swallowed a bunch of cotton.

"Let him do his job."

I close my eyes when I hear that voice. I must be stuck in a nightmare and when I see the fat man move to the side to grab something from a leather bag, I notice Tom sitting at one of the wing back chairs by the window. He's reading the newspaper with the fingers of his left hand pressed against his temple.

"Don't give him any trouble." he adds flatly and I let my hands fall weakly to my sides as the man comes back with his wand to run over my midsection. "I have no problems using more persuasive means of getting you to obey. As you know."

I lay back against the pillows and clench my eyes shut as I wait for the strange man to finish whatever the hell he's doing. I don't care. I give up caring. When the wand work is done, the man nudges me and when I open my eyes, he's holding a vial of a glowing green potion in front of me face.

He doesn't say anything, but I know what he wants me to do.

I shake my head. "What is it?" I mumble out and he pushes it at me again, forcing me to hold it. "I won't drink something I don't know."

"You may go now, Talbot," Tom says as he folds the paper over the arm rest. The man named Talbot gathers up all of his things in that black leather bag and then scurries out of the room.

Leaving me alone with the devil.

I stare at my lap as his polished shoes carry him across the floor boards until they reach me. He sits beside me on the bed, the mattress sinking with the weight, and he takes the potion from my hand. He uncorks the vial and then he holds it under my nose.

"You will drink this because I am telling you to," he says flatly. "You will do as I say because I am Lord Voldemort and anything I say goes," he licks his lips and I feel my stomach turn. "You will start listening to me unquestionably. I am not your enemy," he says and I nearly laugh at the tenderness in his voice as my bruised cheek screams in protest.. "And you definitely do not want me to think of you a such," he says darkly. "Now do you?"

I shake my head.

"Good," he smiles pleasantly. "Drink." I hesitate. "Now."

I bring it to my lips and tilt it back. It tastes like citrus and mint and when I swallow it all, I feel his icy hand on my wrist, pulling the vial way.

"Good girl," he says and he reminds me of Draco.

The main difference being that I love Draco... I do not love the Dark Lord. I hate everything about him. I know he heard that because he smiled again and brought a hand up to my face. I flinched because it hurt and the smack resurfaces in my memory. I still can't believe he hit me like that... but he is the dark lord... I shouldn't be surprised.

"I have a gift for you," he says as he reaches into the front pocket of his waist coat.

I watch nervously as he starts pulling out a long golden chain and dangling from the bottom is a oval yellow stone.

"You will wear this," he says as he puts it over my head until it's resting against my neck. The yellow stone lays against my chest and Tom picks it up and runs it through his long fingers. "A gift from my family to yours," he says with a little smile on his face.

It makes me think of the bracelet that Draco gave me and I start fiddling with the dragons on my wrist. Accepting something from him would cement our bond even more... but I don't have a choice. Why even fight it? He lets the the stone rest against my chest again and then he studies my face with his eyes slightly narrowed.

"You still have blood all over your face," he says as he lifts his wand. He flicks his wrist and I can feel a cleansing spell clean my skin from all the blood, sweat, and tears.

He touches my cheek again.

He doesn't say anything, but I can feel his magic as it runs through his finer tips and heals the bruise forming there. Then his hand starts to drift down my neck and then to the strap of the ridiculous dress I'm wearing.

I go to stop his hand, but it's a weak attempt and his evil eyes snap to mine.

Why?

That was my one thought and he started to lower the strap as he pondered my question that I know he heard.

"Because," he says flatly as he watches as more skin is exposed to him. "I told you there were great magical benefits to our union. If your blood can make me whole again, imagine what the blood of a child with both of our magical capabilities would do."

All that I can imagine is a baby with tubes running in and out of it's arm to collect blood. The Dark Lord sees the image and laughs as he goes to pull down the other strap.

"I would hardly keep them alive," he says and I furrow my brows.

"What do you mean?" I ask with a hoarse voice and he smiles again, a cruel look hardening in his eyes.

"The greatest evils produce the most powerful magic," he says as he leans in and inhales against my neck like I was a steak he was going to devour. "That's why no one would ever be as powerful as me. Because they are cowards and there are lines that cowards won't cross. I will be a God," he says softly, like it was a day dream. "I will be invincible. Isn't that something your Gryffindor mentality can respect?"

It takes me a few seconds to realize what that would mean and then I feel the revolting feeling squeezing my stomach.

"You..." I trail off as he runs his nose against my cheek, his hands disappearing to my back to work on the zipper. "You would kill them?"

The thought is too great of an evil to even understand and I just couldn't get my mind to wrap around it. For a person to have a child just to kill them for their own benefit... for their own magic... how could one person be that evil?

"You're still young," he says as he slowly unzips the back of my dress, one of his cold hands disappearing under the fabric to run across my skin.

It causes my skin to prickle with goosebumps.

"Your body has plenty of time to reproduce. I might let you keep one or two," he says and I feel like my throat is so tight that no air can escape. "If you're good," he smirks against my ear.

He pulls down the top of my dress, exposing one of the lacy bras that Ruth made me buy and I feel a very embarrassed blush staining my cheeks. I watch as he looks down at it, licking his lips in a very human fashion as that golden necklace he gave me falls between my breasts. God or not... he was still a man under it all and I was regretting that fact right about now.

"I..." I trail off as I think of what Blaise said as he held me down in the front hall of that house. I don't have to do anything I don't want to do and I know where this might be leading. Tom runs his hands up my back to take off my bra and I grip his upper arms, digging my nails into his flesh. "I don't want to."

"Don't want to what?" he asks casually, like he knew I wouldn't want to say it.

"Get away from me."

He smiles in amusement, like I was a puppy doing something adorable.

"Get away," I say again trying to focus my magic like I did when I closed the curtain.

He laughs, no doubt feeling the tingle of magic I was trying to use and then his face turns serious as he grabs my arms and throws me down on the bed.

"You can't use that against me, little one," he mocks as he wraps his hands around my arms so tightly that it starts to hurt. "I think you forget who I am."

"Get away," I say flatly trying again to focus my magic.

"Make me," he says in challenge as he rips the covers away from me. He releases one of my hands and I take that opportunity to punch him directly in the jaw.

It feels like hitting pure marble and I whimper like a weak thing once I pull back.

The pain ripples my hand and I hold back a cry as he glares down at me, red blossoming on his skin.

"I guess you owed me one, yes?" he says with his jaw clenched in anger as I bring my hurt hand up to my lips like it would deaden the pain. I feel like I broke a finger. "How about you act more like a witch and less like a muggle. Make me stop with magic, Ginevra, and I will never try to touch you again. I can swear to you that."

I try to push him off again, but he pins me to the bed, his eyes almost black again as he tilts his face to the side.

"With magic," he repeats. "Use magic to stop me and I will let you walk away from this house. No strings attached."

He starts to tear the dress from the rest of my body and I kick at him with all my might. It's no use... he's physically stronger than me anyways and I was totally naked and full of fresh bruises within two seconds of fighting. He was unbuckling his belt by the time we fell off the bed and onto the ground. I was trying to focus my magic... but I couldn't do it... my mind was too frazzled... I was too scared...

I'm too weak.

"You can't win," he says before biting down on my ear in a mock imitation of Draco's soft kisses there. "No one can beat me."

He's holding me down again as he unzips his pants and I look away... to the left...under the bed... his wand... I feel hope in my chest and I even dare the corner of my lip to turn up in a smile. It must have fallen from his pocket when we fell from the bed.

That I could do.

He frees himself and I can feel him pushing into me. It hurts. I'm not turned on at all and completely unprepared for the intrusion. I've never really felt this kind of pain before but it spurs me into action. I reach for the wand and I can feel my magic move through me. The wand is just out of my reach, but my magic pulls it to my hand. I have it against his neck before he's able to press the rest of his body into mine and he freezes.

Then he laughs, pulling back to look down at me.

"What are you going to do?" he asks as he looks into my eyes. He pushes into me a little bit more and I wince at the pain. "Kill me? You know you can't do that," he says sharply as he pulls back and then he slams into me so hard I nearly drop the wand. "Don't you remember?"

A memory surfaces in my mind. Of being eleven in the room of requirement. The Dark Lord using my hand to kill a squib and him pulling a piece of my being from my chest to place with his in that beautiful head piece... The lost diadem of Ravenclaw he had called it.

"We're bonded in more ways than one now."

He starts showing me things... He shows me memories of his life... how he killed so he could live forever... how he hid away his soul in objects so he could rule the world... how he made me do the same.

Suddenly I knew everything... what Harry was doing when he traveled with my brother and Hermione... killing the objects to kill the dark lord... but they didn't get to he crown because it was hidden... because it was with Wormtail..

If they want to kill me, they will surely kill you... his voice echoes in my head and I clench my jaw.

If they want to kill him... they'd have to kill... I shake my head. No. It's too horrid to think about..

He's right, I can't kill him. Not now anyways, but I can't have him this close to me anymore. I can't have him almost inside of me.

The only spell that comes to mind is one that will get him far away from me. I shout it and the spell blows him across the room, making him hit the small fireplace, shattering most of the decorations on top.

I stand up and grab the cover, wrapping it around me quickly as I run from the room. I can hear him hissing behind me and then I hear Nagini.

Fuck.

She's faster than I am but I sprint towards the stairs and jump down three at a time. I nearly trip over the blanket, but I keep going until I use his wand to blast open the front door. The wood splinters and the magic holding me in breaks as I run over the threshold. I keep running even though I can hear him calling. I keep running even though I know deep down I won't get far.

I need someone to save me... I'm no good at saving myself. That much is obvious.

Why hasn't anyone come yet?

I keep lifting the wand to Apparate, but the magic fizzles off. I'm not at a safe app zone yet and I curse under my breath when I look over my shoulder and see Nagini right behind me...

I catch my foot on a rock and fall on my knees. It sends a shock of pain right through my system and I know I've lost when Nagini curls herself in front of me and gets up so her head is waving in front of my face, hissing and spitting at me.

I bet she's cussing at me in snake speak.

"That was a nice try," Tom is right behind me as I clutch his wand to my chest while holding the cover in place with my left hand. He starts petting my hair as he sighs loudly. "But, I must say-"

The sentence gets caught in his throat as I make a swishing motion with his wand. The spell slices off the head of that fucking snake and there's a deafening pause as Nagini's head slides from her body.

A white mist escapes her neck and her body slumps to the ground as her head rolls to the side, her face still open in a hissing expression.

Tom grips my hair tightly then and yanks my head back. The pain from it makes me drop the wand and it clatters to the ground.

"You fucking bitch," he snarls and I feel a little smile on my face when I see his anger... there's none of that mocking tone in his voice... there's no playfulness... just a deadly rage that lightens my heart.

I had just done something that was unexpected and it had pissed him off.

I kind of felt like I won this battle.

He throws me to the ground and tugs the cover from my body. I don't even resist that much as he crawls on top of me and holds me down, forcing himself into me for the second time in one day. He's merciless in his movements and it's one of the most painful experiences of my life... but I don't even care.

I'm laughing... and crying at the same time... but every time I look to the right and see Nagini's dead body I can't help but feel pleased.

This time it was definitely rape and he was doing all that he could to make it hurt.

And it did hurt... it hurt more than I could imagine and I knew that once this was over and I was by myself that my heart was going to break into a million pieces, but I couldn't think of that right now... I just had to focus on Nagini's dead body to bring me some peace.

It was surprisingly easy.

I was laughing when he pulled on the chain of the necklace he gave me and he twisted it in his hands until it was nearly choking me to death. It didn't stop me from being pleased, but it did hurt like hell.

When he was finished, he didn't say one word to me. No cutting remark or quip. He just transported me back into the bedroom and then put up the wards again as I laid on the bed and stared up the ceiling, laughing like a maniac.

When he's gone, my laughs turn into sobs and then I stand up on wobbly legs to make my way to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and don't even dare look at myself in the mirror before climbing in.

The water's hot and it burns every bruise and cut on my body. When I wash between my legs, I pull back to find blood there. The shower washes it away, making the water by my feet almost pink and I feel my eyes start to burn

It all hits me like a ton of bricks and I slide down the wall. Once sitting at the base of the tub, I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs. I start to cry like a child. The water beats down on me until it turns ice cold, but I don't move...

I stay for hours.

The pain was worth it, I think, just to see that surprised rage on his face.

I doubt much surprises the Dark Lord.

I smile a little to myself before I put my forehead on my knees, pretending like I'm somewhere else.

I imagine I'm a child again going to Yellow Springs with my family and riding the Ferris wheel with my father.

I imagine I'm happy and smiling and laughing.

After this year... I don't know if I'll ever be able to laugh again.

Another sob gets stuck in my throat and then I remember how Nagini's head thumped to the ground.

That sob turns into a laugh.

I think I might be losing my mind.

Days over lap and time stops ticking as weeks pass by with out incident. No one comes to see me... not that I really care, but I do find myself reading some of those ridiculous books in the drawing room. I agree with none of it and it makes my heart burn. How could anyone believe that crap?

The necklace he had given me refuses to come off. Every time I try to pull it over my head, the chain gets smaller until it almost chokes me...I have a constant red ring around my neck because of the violence I seem to inflict on myself. Like I was hanged until the point of death only to be revived again. It's no use. I know deep down it's not coming off. I stopped caring about that too.

I take my meals each day in the dining room and each morning with my breakfast there's a small vial of that green potion that Talbot gave me before the Dark Lord...before he...before he did that evil thing that he did to me after I killed Nagini.

It hurts too much to thinking about, so I try not to.

I try to ignore it even though the soreness and bruises that followed the violent act made it hard to pass over. I try... even though sometimes in the middle of the night, I wake in a cold sweat, feeling the weight of his body on top of mine, screaming as he holds me down.

I try to ignore it so much that I refuse to even write it down in my detailed accounts in the notebook.

It never happened.

It was a time that doesn't exist anymore...even though sometimes I can still feel him inside of me... pushing... hurting... laughing...

It's too much for me to bear.

I spend most of my time stuck in a day dream. I fantasize about living a life with Draco... the life that he wanted... where I could spend my days writing and raising our two maybe three children while he does something amazing in politics.

Something that changes the world for the better because being stuck here... away from him and everything that he was makes my mind view him more and more favorably with each passing moment.

I miss him so much that it hurts. I want to see him again, just one more time.

Sometimes I live in memories of my childhood when things were normal... when I was normal... when life made sense. I live in my thoughts about Charlie and Tonks and Remus and everyone else that I had loved who was taken from me violently.

Sometimes I don't think at all... I just stare out of the windows in the drawing room... hearing nothing... seeing nothing... becoming nothing...

I feel like I'm turning into a piece of furniture in this well furnished house. Just Ginny... in Riddle Manor... left to rot like a lamp or a table.

Just Ginny.

In fact, it was when I was staring out the window one afternoon when I heard a very distinct jingling coming from the kitchen.

I stand up with the book in my hands to investigate the noise and when a cat comes running towards me my mouth opens in shock.

"Henry?" I whisper in surprise as the fat cat hops in my arms. "What are you doing here?" I ask with a brow raised as I scratch his head.

Of course he doesn't answer and I hold him close to my chest.

I look around me, to find some clue as to where he came from... I check the kitchen and the upstairs... every nook and cranny... but nothing turns up any answer for me.

I shrug it off. I guess I don't care about that either.

I bring him with me to the drawing room to finish up my afternoon routine and when night comes he snuggles down with me on the bed. I pull him to me and nuzzle his fur as he paws at the covers. I cry some more as he curls into my arms. I'm so glad to have another thing to talk to, it's almost pathetic, really.

More days pass... night turns to day turns to night turns to day... a continues stream of nothingness.

I start feeling more alive with my favorite companion, though. He gives me a purpose and a reason to get out of bed.

He makes me feel like I'm not a doll, living forever in a play house owned by a demented child. I owe him my life for it, honestly. Good Henry. I feed him bits from my plate in the dining hall and I speak to him in soft whispers about how I fantasize about decapitating the Dark Lord with an ax.

All that sunny teenage girl stuff.

I bring him to the room with the record player and I hold him against me as we dance to the music. I like to imagine that the fat old thing likes it, but deep down I know he hates it. I don't care too much and sometimes I sing to him as he plays with a tassel on a pillow... Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens... I laugh at his bitter looking face as he tries to wiggle away from me...Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens...

I dangle my necklace in front of him and he hops to it, landing on my lap as his claw-less paws bat at the yellow gem... Brown paper packages tied up with strings ...He's the only cat I've know to be de-clawed like that and it makes me think of the Zabini's... of course they would domesticate their pets like that... These are a few of my favorite things...

I stop singing as I scratch behind his ear.

Thinking of the Zabini's makes me think of Blaise and thinking of Blaise makes me think of how fond he was of Henry. Thinking of that makes me think of his albino house elf Franklin and thinking of Franklin makes me think of the female albino elf that harassed me my first day here.

Is she related to Franklin? Did she bring Henry to me?

I want to ask her. Maybe she'll bring me other things... maybe she'll help me leave this place.

I call for her all the time, but she never shows and finally I figure out how to get her attention.

I stop eating.

On the third day of my fast, weak with hunger, she pops into the dining room, a face of fury. "The miss must eat!" she screeches as Henry hides underneath my chair. "The master wants the miss to eat so the miss will eat!"

"Are you related to Franklin from the Zabini house?" I ask, licking my dry lips. I haven't brushed my hair in days and my lips feel cracked and dry from chewing on them so fiercely.

I must look a right mess to this little elf and she's doing a terrible job of hiding her disgust with me.

She looks upset for half a second before snapping her fingers. The chair traps me again, and I know what it means so I pick up a fork.

"Are you a house elf owned by the Zabinis?" I ask because albino elves are hard to come by and... it would explain Henry.

"The miss will eat," she repeats as I put some noodles on the fork.

"Faun," I say, looking into her purple eyes as I bring the fork closer to my lips. "I order you to tell me," I say flatly knowing no elf could resist an order like that. "Tell me what I want to know."

She struggles for a moment before shaking head. "Frankie belongs to Master Zabini, so does Faun," she says as Henry runs across my legs, weaving his body between them.

"Does Franklin ever come into this house?" I ask.

"Frankie does the cooking for the Miss!" she calls, her hands clenched in fists at her admission. "Frankie does not like the new master. Frankie wants Miss Georgina back! Frankie gave miss the cat even though it is forbidden!"

"Why is it forbidden to give me a cat?"

She doesn't say anything.

"Can I talk to Franklin?" I ask and she snaps her fingers, making the bonds on the chair tighten to a painful degree.

Right.

I don't press the matter. I don't want him taken away and I've learned what I wanted to know. I know why I had gotten Henry.

It was because of Blaise and I almost felt bad for kneeing him in the crotch.

Almost.

I take a bite of food and the bonds loosen as Faun watches me with narrowed eyes. She's getting added to the list of things I want to kill.

Right up there with Tom Marvolo Riddle.

I lick my lips before taking another bite... my throat is dry and it feels like I'm eating sandpaper, so I take a quick drink from my water glass before looking at her.

"I would like to talk to the Dark Lord," I whisper. I don't know where it came from but I just can't... I can't just keep doing nothing. "Can you tell him? Can you tell him I want to see him?"

She eyes me for a few moments before popping away.

After I eat the rest of the meal, the chair finally releases me and I pick up Henry.

"Now we're getting somewhere," I whisper to his fur.

I run upstairs to make myself presentable and then I run back down with my heart beating a mile a minute...

I wait in the drawing room, staring at the buffet along the far wall as I try to come up with something to say if he comes. Should I tell him that I want to follow him? Should I swear my allegiance just so he'll let me out of this freaking house?

There's a tumbler full of amber liquid with four glasses set around it on the buffet. I gave it a curious look before walking towards it and pulling the cork from the top.

I sniff it.

It's some kind of alcohol. I'm nervous, so I pour myself a glass with shaking fingers and hold it up to my lips.

Liquid courage, right?

I take a tentative sip. It burns my throat but I know what it is right away because I had it before over the summer at one of the parties Draco took me to. It's firewhiskey. I have no idea why it's in this house with me, but I don't mind as I take another sip.

After finishing the glass I start thinking of why it would be here. Not for my benefit surely... I start thinking of the only person who would come here... the Dark Lord. I have never seen him eat, but on several occasions I had seen the Dark Lord drink.

At the Zabini house he was drinking some kind of alcohol from a very similar looking tumbler and at the Malfoy's Halloween dinner he was drinking wine... even at that terrible dinner where the Dursley's were murdered he was drinking.

He likes alcohol.

If he came, I bet he would drink this.

I put my glass down as I stare at the amber liquid inside. I know instantly what I should do. I bound up the stairs and dig through the chest of drawers until I find the bag of potions Ruth Davenport had given me. I shift through the until I find the poison and I lick my lips before running back down stairs.

I look over my shoulder quickly before uncorking it and pouring it all into the tumbler. I put the stopper back on and shake the alcohol around to mix it up before throwing the potion bottle into the fire to hide the evidence.

I sit down on one of the chairs and start biting my finger nails until they're so short that it almost hurts.

I fell asleep in the chair after waiting well into the night.

He doesn't come for three weeks.

I'm in the drawing room again, wearing one of those ridiculous dresses my mother had made me when he comes into the room wearing a black fur lined cloak that has snow clinging to it's fabric. Henry's on my lap and he tenses his furry body as the Dark Lord approaches with quick and dominant steps.

"You wanted to see me?" he asks flatly and I'm actually kind of surprised that he came considering... considering what happened last time and how long it took for him to get here.

"Yes," I stand up and the cat drops to the floor.

He eyes him for a moment before looking back at me.

"How did that come into your possession?" he asks, nodding to the cat who's hissing at him from under the chair. I don't answer and he nods. "It seems as though there is a house-elf I must punish, yes?"

"No, don't," I shake my head and then inhale sharply as I find a lie. "I found him in the basement. He must have crawled in through a hole."

"I doubt that," he says flatly, clearly not believing me. "What did you want?" he asks, changing the subject.

"I wanted to speak to you."

"Well, by all means, speak," he says as he walks towards the tumbler of firewhiskey. I hold my breath as he takes off the top to pour himself a glass. "I'm on a schedule."

He walks over to the fireplace so he's standing in front of me, demanding my attention in a way only he can. I sit down just because his presence is so imposing.

"I wanted... I wanted..." I trail off, trying to find the words as he holds the glass to his lips. He pauses for a moment and I look away so he doesn't see what I have done. "I wanted you to show me magic," I mumble as he puts the glass down on the mantle.

I look at it as he takes off his cloak and eyes me suspiciously. I hate this man with a passion and I start knotting the skirt of my dress as I try to stamp down my emotions. I hate everything he's done and everything he is, but I try to keep it down as I inhale deeply through my nostrils.

"After the stunt you pulled?" he questions as he throws the cloak on a near by chair. "I think not."

"I've been thinking..." I pause again as he looks to me with his brows raised.

He was wearing a more casual outfit today. When I saw him before, he was always wearing a well fitted suit, but today he wore a pair of darker khaki slacks and a black pullover sweater. I must have caught him on a day off from taking over the world and for some reason that thought amused me.

But only for half a second.

"Thinking is always a dangerous business," he comments as he studies me. "I never recommend it."

I ignore his joke as I bunch up my skirt again.

"I've been thinking about you... and magic..." I say. "And how powerful you are. You're right... Harry... no one will ever beat you. Your power is too great," I lie as I flick another small glance to his poisoned drink. "You're too... powerful..." that's all I could come up with. I figure stroking his ego could never hurt. "I've been wrong to resist," I lie again and he narrows his eyes, catching it easily. "I've been stupid. I don't want to be stupid anymore... or weak... I want to be great like you."

"So you can use it against me one day?" he asks as he picks up the glass again. "Why even put in the energy when you have no intention of actually following me? Why waste my valuable time on you? I could keep you here, you know," he says as he looks around the room before taking a seat and crossing his legs. "Forever. No one could stop me... no one could find you."

"I know," I say weakly because a part of me believed it.

"Why should I?" he asks after a long pause. "What do you have to offer me?"

I couldn't actually think of anything and there was a long pause before I spoke again.

"What do you want?" I ask and he looks at me before sending a glance down to my stomach.

Oh.

"I've placed you here without magic at your disposal," he says thoughtfully. "I wonder if you have taken my advice and practiced doing wandless magic?"

"I..." I trail off feeling stupid because I haven't.

What have I been doing my with my time? Sleeping... day dreaming... playing with Henry... crying...

"I thought so," he says flatly. He stands up, his glass untouched. "I will come back when you're serious about learning something. I will not waste my time."

I stand up as he puts his cloak back on and starts to walk from the room.

"Wait," I plead and he glances at me over his shoulder.

I can't find any words, so he raises his brows before walking off again.

I don't want to rot in this stupid house any longer and with that thought in mind I tried using magic. I felt the desperate tug in my chest and just before he left, every curtain in the house closed, cloaking us in darkness.

I hold my breath as he removes his wand to open the curtains again, letting in the bright winter afternoon as he looks back at me with an appraising look in his eyes.

"Well," he says as he tucks his wand in his sleeve. "That is something."

I watch him as he looks me over and then he walks back fireplace and takes a seat across from my reading chair. I watch as he picks up the glass and takes a drink.

I feel the pleasure seep through my body as he sets it down, not noticing what I had put in here.

"Take a seat," he says and I nod my head, sitting down at the chair across form him. "Knowledge is power, Ginevra," he says and I agree. "And I will not give you that power unless you show me you can be trusted."

"What does that mean?" I whisper and he gives me a charming smile.

I don't want him to force himself on me again. I couldn't handle that.

"How about we play a little game?" he says as he takes another sip.

I watch his throat as he swallows and when his eyes turn to me, I give him a little smile back. It's painful for me to do, and it felt like daggers in my chest as my lips turned up.

"I will show you how amazing you can be," he says as he leans forward to address me more earnestly. "If you tell me your secrets."

"I don't... I don't have any secrets."

"You're wrong," he says after licking his lips. "Everyone has secrets. I just want full access to your mind. No resisting."

"Can't you do that anyways?" I ask gently as he watches my profile.

"The mind is like a large house," he says as he sits back and crosses his legs. "Like this one," he adds as he waves around him. "There are basic rooms everyone can go in with ease. The front hall... dinning room... even the bathroom," he says with a smirk. "But there are always hidden rooms, locked doors where no one should venture."

I nod my head in understanding, thinking of the hidden door to the attic.

"There's always a room with forgotten things just waiting to be discovered. Give that to me, and I will show you magic."

"Okay," I say softly as I glance at the drink on the table.

"Good. It's an understanding then," he says and I watch as he downs the whole glass with a flick of his neck. "Let's go somewhere more comfortable," he says and I snap him a surprised look. "Go upstairs. I will be up momentarily."

"But..."

"I thought we agreed there would be no resisting," he says and I swallow a large lump in my throat.

I nod my head again and try not to shake as I scurry up the staircase. I don't actually know where he wants me to go, so I end up in my bedroom. When he comes in a few moments later I feel my hands start shaking as I remember the last time he was in here, when I had to fight him off of me... only to lose in the worst way in the end.

"Lay down," he says, nodding to the bed as he pushes his sleeves to his elbows.

"I..." I trail off and look at the mattress. "Um..."

"Lay down," he repeats sharply

I lay down nervously and put my hands on my stomach, knotting the fabric as he sits beside me on the bed, running his hand up my arm.

"I thought-"

"Hush," he cuts me off sharply as he runs his fingers up until they rest against my temple. "Close your eyes."

I close my eyes and lick my lips with my breath coming out in short gasps.

I might have a panic attack.

"That's a good girl," he says as he leans over me more and I can feel him staring at my face. He doesn't smell like anything... it's kind of odd, actually. "Now, just relax. This is going to hurt."

It did hurt. It hurt something terrible, like someone was taking a scalpel to my brain and slicing it to pieces. He spent the better part of an hour intruding in my brain as he sorted through memories and dreams and fantasies.

When he finally pulls out, I'm sweating and breathing heavily.

So's he, to my surprise.

"I'll come back in a few days," he says as he stands up, trying not to sound winded as he rolls his sleeves back down. "Try practicing wandless magic. If you can break yourself out of this house, I will be impressed," he says with a charming smile.

When he's gone, I sleep for two days.

More time passes... days turn into weeks turn into months... January passes without incident and February brings a flurry of snowstorms that chill my bones. Tom comes to me very once and a while to see my progression and rape my mind. I have no idea what he's looking for, but I don't resist. He knows everything about Draco anyways and that's the only secret I've had.

I've mastered closing curtains without a wand and have moved on to lighting candle sticks and fireplaces. A thing that has come in very handy on the cold winter nights after the fire had died out. I'm miles away from being strong enough to break the wards around the house, though, but I keep trying.

Every time Tom comes to visit me, the tumbler of firewhisky goes down... I can see the change in him with each passing session. The poison doesn't kill him, of course, but his skin has started to take on a more waxy sheen and he uses his wand more and more... like the wandless magic that he was trying to get me to master was going away from him.

Even simple spells seem to be a struggle for him and I can see the frustration in his face every time he tries to do something. I don't think he suspects me of anything because he keeps drinking from the tumbler. He keeps going until it's all but empty.

I don't point out my observations in fear of being found out, but I couldn't help but be happy. I would replay my pleasure to my ever present notebook and I would whisper about my conning to Henry who turned out to be a very good listener. He hates Tom and hisses every time the Dark Lord is near so I've taken to hiding him in the attic so he doesn't get killed.

The Dark Lord is not a cat person.

No surprise there.

The sicker Tom gets, the more desperate he seems... and he starts taking my blood two... sometimes three times a week.

Sometimes he drinks it straight from my wrist like a vampire and I just pretend he's Draco kissing me a little too passionately. That's really easily, actually. He reminds me so much of Draco anyways and I just have close my eyes and pretend it's Draco's sharp voice dictating to me instead of the Dark Lord's smooth drawl.

They have so much in common, but some how they're still miles a part.

I still bleed some each month, so that kills any other kind of fears I may have about what's been going on in this house. Even though I still find that green potion resting by my plate each morning during breakfast. I take it even though I have no idea what it is, and I take it even when the potion color changes from green to red as the time passes.

I figure it must be something to keep me healthy or something because I can see no other changes.

When March came with it's rain showers, I start to lose faith in being rescued and when April brought with it the spring time heat... I just knew there was no hope.

It was a stupid thing to wish for anyways and I was musing over it after one of my lessons and the Dark Lord had heard it. They had to care, though... people had to me missing me, right? Why have I been here so long?

"I can assure you that if they had cared for your well being you would not still be here," he said sharply, his eyes were rimmed in red and black. He was getting weaker. "You think that the order with all of their resources would have been able to find you," he says, nodding to the bracelet Draco had given me.

It also made me think of the necklace of my mother's that was still up in my trunk. Of course, they would know where I was. They had to know how to find me and it made me feel sick when I realized that.

"With as diligent as they are, one would wonder why they haven't put in the time and energy to save one abused little girl?" he asks flatly, tilting his head to watch my pain.

I don't respond and he smiles.

"If you take something they actually care about... something they love... I promise you they will come running."

"They love me," I say fiercely, breaking my good girl routine as I glare at him.

He smiles that charming smile again as he licks his lips. "You wouldn't be here with me if that was true," he says, making my thoughts go dark because a part of me couldn't help but agree.

He stood up then and walked towards me. I knew what he was going to do, so I put my hair over my shoulder and tilted my neck to the side as he pressed his wand against a vein there. I cringed from the pain that punctured the holes in my skin and I tried not to make a noise as he bent down and started to drink from my neck.

Like a Vampire.

I fucking hate vampires.

When he got what he wanted, he pulled back and I glanced at him. Some of my blood was smudged at the corner of his mouth and he smiled at me as he ran his hand over my face.

"I will show you," he says as he reaches for his glass of firewhisky on the side table. "And you will see," he adds before swallowing it all in one go to wash down the taste of my blood.

Successfully drinking a the rest of the poison with that last gulp.

"I will show you, my darling," he mocks as he stands up, bringing a handkerchief to his mouth to clean the blood. "And you will see that, after all of this, I am the only one who cares for you."

I nod my head, because I can't do anything else, and then I look at the empty glass as he sets it on the table.

I start counting down in my head, waiting for him to fall down dead... but he never does.

"Your nose is bleeding," I say softly as he turns to me.

"What?" he asks sharply as I grab his discarded handkerchief and I stand up until I'm right in front of him.

"Your nose," I whisper as I bring the cloth up to wipe away the blood. "Is bleeding."

He grabs my wrist with his ice cold hand and he stares down at me with narrowed red eyes. For the first time in a long time he looked down at me with suspicious eyes and I held my ground, staring right back until he pushed me back.

He left then, with the handkerchief falling to the ground.

I pick it up as I hear the front door slam and I smile a little to myself when I see his blood smudged on the fabric, right by mine.

...So long... fair well... au revoir... auf wiedersehen...

I smile to myself again, my thoughts dark and brooding.

All the chairs in the dinning room are floating three feet above the ground and my forehead is beading with sweat as I hold them there, suspended in the air with my magic. I lick my dry lips. I'm getting stronger... I'm kind of pleased by my accomplishment and when Henry meows beside me, I smirk down at him.

"What do you think?" I ask as I turn my hand, making the chairs turn with it. "Do you think I'm getting better?"

I pretend he nods in agreement and I go back to the chairs. At the beginning of the week, I could only raise one... and here I was... raising all twelve.

Maybe the Dark Lord was right... I did have a lot of potential hidden away.

I lick my lips, my cheeks feeling hot. It's a warm day out and I haven't mastered any cool air charms, so the house is like an oven on hot days like today. I can't open the windows and there are no fans to cool me. I just sweat and feel miserable all day.

I hate the humidity.

I pulled my hair back in a loose braid this morning and I'm wearing a yellow sundress my mom had made me that has daises printed on it. It's on the shorter side because I have grown since I wore it last, but I don't mind too much.

It's too hot to care.

I hear the front door slam and all the chairs fall to the ground when I lose concentration. It had been months since I had seen anyone who wasn't the Dark Lord, so when I saw Yaxley with his pig snout and glare, I raise my eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" I ask I pick up Henry and hug him to my chest.

"His Lordship has asked me to retrieve you," he says as he holds out his hand so I will go with him.

I don't take it right away, so he walks towards me to take my arm like I was a rag doll.

I hesitate and he grips my arm, making me drop Henry. I don't say anything as he roughly pulls me from the house, not even giving me time to grab a pair of shoes. When we get outside, I pause a second to look at the sky. I haven't felt the actual sun on my skin in ages and I close my eyes to inhale deeply, but Yaxley tugs me sharply, shaking me from my daze.

I try to keep up with his long strides and when he Apparates up in front of Folk Hills... I tilt my head in question.

"What-"

Yaxley cuts me off with another tug to my arm and I don't bother asking again.

On the way in, my unprotected foot catches the end of a rather sharp rock and I hiss in pain before limping along. Hating Yaxley and his disregard for my well being shoots him to the top of my kill list as well. I narrow my eyes at the back of his thinning hair and wish him deadly thoughts.

Death Eaters in black robes are wondering around the grounds when we get in and they look so out of place among in the sunshine and beautiful flowers.

It's almost funny, actually.

Death Eaters in Springtime.

When we approach club house five, a very odd feeling starts to settle in my stomach... Something close to fear and when the door is open and I'm pushed in, I swallow hard. Death Eaters are crawling all over the place like roaches and there, sitting at the center of it all in a metal high backed chair is Tom Riddle.

He doesn't frighten me like he used to. I'm too familiar with him now, but I do feel a very primal urge to turn around and hide as he looks up, right into my eyes.

He's leaning back in the chair with his foot tapping impatiently against the marble floor. His elbow is leaning on the arm rest and he's tapping his fingers against his lips, like he was keeping time with music only he could hear.

He looks horrible. Like a gaunt ghost of his former self.

His skin is even more wax like and pale than I remember it being just a few days ago and his eyes are rimmed in dark circles... like a corpse...

As I approach with burning feet, I can see that the veins around his temples and jaw are almost black in color, like a person had drawn them on with a fine tipped quill and mapped out their progression all across his face.

The once handsome Dark Lord looked positively ghastly in this light and when his blood red eyes snapped to mine, I gulped.

He didn't say anything, he just looked at Yaxley as he gripped my arm and then nodded to the place right beside his feet. Yaxley seemed to understand what that meant and he pulled me closer to Voldemort, pushing me down to my knees by his chair.

Seriously?

"Sit," Yaxley orders gruffly and I feel my brows furrow as I try to adjust myself into a comfortable position by his feet... like a dog.

"Do we not believe in getting the lady shoes?" the Dark Lord asks flatly as he looks at my toes peaking out from underneath me as I move my skirt so I'm not flashing the entire hall my knickers. My feet are almost black from dirt and I'm sure my right foot is bleeding from that sharp stone. "Surely there was time for that."

"I am sorry, My Lord," Yaxley bows his head and I glare at him. He's not sorry at all.

He gets waved off and I look around me questionably.

It's cold in here, like an icebox, and I cross my arms as I glance at the darkly robed death eaters... some of them are even wearing their silver masks for the occasion. Even the Dark Lord is wearing a dark set of traditional wizard's robes that show a hint of green in the thread every time he moves.

I look back at my own yellow dress, thinking I must look sorely out of place. I finger one of the stitched daisies as I imagine what I must look like to an outsider around all this darkness. I'm not wearing any make up either and with out mascara my eyelashes are almost blonde, giving me the look of a twelve year old.

I wonder if any of these Death Eaters feel sorry for me. Here I am, just a young girl in a stupid flowered dress with no shoes on...who was in way over her head in the darkness.

"My Lord!" A young Death Eater with his hood up comes running into the room and he falls to his knees when he gets close to Tom.

When he puts his forehead on the cold ground to get into an even more submissive pose, I roll my eyes.

"The rebels have surrounded the grounds, sir!"

"Of course they have." There's a smirk in Tom's voice and he pulls a piece of hair loose from my braid, twirling it in my fingers until I look at him. "Didn't I tell you?" he says and I frown in confusion. "Take something they actually care about and they will flock to it like a moth to the flame."

What did that mean?

He makes a motion with his with hand and two men come from the shadows with a body lying limp between them. I know instantly who that is, and I try to get up to run towards her, but the Dark Lord grips the back of my neck viciously to keep me in place.

"We only caught her a couple of days ago," he says flatly as he squeezes my neck painfully hard. "And do you see how they gather already?" he asks as they throw Hermione on the ground. "Does it hurt, Ginevra, to know that they were perfectly content to leave you with me, but take their precious mudblood for one day and they're already on the attack. It's depressing... how little they care for you."

A part of me believes that, but I won't tell him he's right.

"I'm the only one you can count on. I'm the only one who cares."

A death eater raises their wand to wake my old friend and Hermione blinks a few times before licking her dry lips and turning over on her back.

"Open the roof," the Dark Lord says and a few of them lift their wands to scale back the roof so the hot spring time sun illuminates us. "I want them to hear this," he says as he stands up and raises his wand to Hermione.

He starts to torture her with his wand and I can't take the screams so I retreat into myself and cover my ears. I start rocking back and forth, wanting it to be over, wanting to be somewhere else. I start singing those songs from the record player again... replaying a few of my favorite things in my mind to make things be alright.

"Stop it!" I hear someone yell. "Stop it, Ginevra!"

It was the Dark Lord and I felt someone tugging my hair back. When my neck snapped to look up, I saw Tom, his face drenched in sweat and an angry scowl on his face.

"You are going to set the whole building on fire. You will stop it now!" he shouts.

I didn't even know what I was doing, but when he stepped back, I could see. The torches that were on the wall were blazing with green flames, rising high into the air. Some were bursting with magic, making random things in the room catch fire as the Death Eaters scurried to fix it.

"As your head of house, I order you to stop," he hisses as he bends down to get into my face. "Now."

I can feel the itch in my chest and the fires start to die down to normal flames. He stares at me for a long time and I can hear Hermione whimpering behind him as he runs his thumb over my lips like he was contemplating something serious.

Just when I thought he was going to say something of importance, the Order busted through the front doors.

Tom jumped away from me and someone from behind grabbed my arm and started dragging me behind one of the large Corinthian columns, far away from the struggle. I leaned against the pillar and tried to catch my breath as the person who dragged me pulled back their death eater hood.

It was Blaise... and he was smiling.

"Hello, lovely," he says with a smirk as he opens his cloak. Strapped across his chest was a leather satchel and he lifts it over his head to hand to me. "Will you hold this for me?" he asks as he dumps it on my lap.

He takes out his wand and blasts a wizard who was running towards us before turning back to me.

"What is this?" I ask as I reach into the bag to pull out a wooden box.

He smiles as he kneels in front of me. "Another fabulous lie," he says as I pop open the lid... inside is a crown... the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. My soul keeper. "I let him believe my mother was trustworthy," he says with an eye roll. "She's probably in the south of France right now, working on husband number nine."

I don't even crack a smile and he gives me a fake pout.

"Your total disregard to my humor hurts my feelings. I only risked everything to save your life," he jokes with his hand on his heart as a battle wages behind us. "This is your rescue mission, doll," he says, pinching my cheek. I push his hand away. "You should be a little more happy."

Not my rescue mission, I think bitterly. The Dark Lord's words are making my thoughts dark and I try to shake it off.

There's a duel happening beside us and Blaise stands up to help. I can see the blue cloak of an order member fighting Wormtail and when they kill him with a death curse to the throat, the person who he was dueling with turns to Blaise, his hood falling back.

"I don't see the snake anywhere."

I know that voice.

My breath catches in my throat when I see Draco turn his head to look at me.

"Must be hiding her," Blaise says, lifting his wand to another death eater who's calling him a traitor.

They both come back to me in my little hiding spot and Draco kneels in front of me to study my face. He looks older some how... more world worn and his hair is a bit longer than I remember it being... but his features are still as proud as ever, even with the tired rings under his eyes.

He looks me over closely and then I can see the corner of his mouth turn up in a relieved smile. He leans in like he was going to kiss me but I turn away quickly because I just... I just can't.

"I killed Nagini," I say to cover the slight and to get the look of hurt off Draco's face .

He sits back and they both raise their brows. "What?" Draco asks softly.

"I cut off her head..." I start counting the suns cycles and moon changes on my fingers. Trying to place the time when it happened... seconds before the violent rape. "Weeks... no... months ago."

Months. God, that one word sent a pain right through my heart.

"How did you manage that?" Blaise asks over Draco's shoulder like he was impressed.

"I cut her head off with his wand," I say and my voice sounds weird... it sounds detached and far too high for my liking. "He wasn't very happy about that," I say more to myself as I remember what happened directly afterward.

I haven't even thought about that brutal rape since the night that I cried in the bathtub. I just viewed it with cold indifference because I had to, because if I didn't, I felt like my emotions would suck me dry.

With Draco here, staring at me so closely, it was fresh in my memory, like every bruise was back and every wound was open so someone could pour salt all over them.

I hated the feeling and I felt dirty all over again, so I curled a little more into my self as Draco watched my face with an intense look in his silver eyes. Blaise ran off to fight, leaving me alone with Draco. He licks his lips before bringing a hand up to cup my cheek.

"I missed you," he says so softly I barely hear it, but him touching me like that... it reminds me too much of Tom... the way he touched me right before he smacked me and I push his hand away.

He looks heartbroken for half a second before hardening his eyes.

"Here," he says as he pulls something from under his cloak. "Stay here and wear this."

It was Harry's invisibility cloak and when he starts to put it around my shoulders, I still his hands.

"Just stay here," he repeats with his hand on mine. "As soon as they get Granger to safety, they'll be coming back for you."

I felt fire in my veins at that statement. Of course they would get Hermione first. My eyes started to water and my lip started to tremble with out my permission. Why wouldn't they get me first? Why wouldn't Draco just get me out of here now! I've been with Lord Voldemort for months. Months of my life... months!

Months being totally alone.

Months of having him rape my mind whenever he wanted.

Months having to heal my wounds by myself.

Months having to do what he wanted me to do.

Months at the total mercy of the Darkest wizard the world had ever known and still I'm not top priority.

Tears slip from my eyes and I hate myself for the weakness but I can't help it. I just want to go home! Why is that so hard? Hermione had only been tortured for a couple of seconds and the Dark Lord said they had only caught her a couple days before so even if something more happened... it hadn't been that long.

My torture had been a slow burn over the course of this entire year... and maybe even since I was eleven if you want to view it closely.

Maybe Tom was right. I doubt this would have even happened if Hermione was never caught... they would have just let me rot at that house.

Draco watches the pain slip over my face and I can feel his stare as I close my eyes and clutch the box to my chest.

"Voldemort's men are under strict orders not to harm you," he says gently, his hand squeezing around my arm. "They would have no qualms about killing Granger. That's why she went first."

I nod my head and open my eyes to look at him. I wanted nothing more than to kiss and hold him, but I just couldn't. There was too much broken inside of me to do it. "I understand," I answer flatly because I do understand.

I get it.

It makes sense.

I just wish someone would take all that logical thinking and throw it out the window. Can't they all see that I'm drowning, that I've been drowning on my own now for a while? Why can't someone do that for me? Because I need it. Because I already feel like I'm dangling off a cliff, holding on by my fingertips.

I just want out of this place! I don't want to be here around these people anymore!

Draco leans in and kisses my forehead quickly. Someone from the Order gets blasted against the wall nearby and we both look at him. I don't know who it is, some black fellow with dread locks and Draco squeezes my arm once more.

"Just stay here, babe," he says as he stands up and removes his wand. "Wait for them to come."

I shrug in indifference and push Harry's cloak off my shoulders. "It hardly matters," I whisper, but he caught it because he gives me a troubled look as I turn against the pillar a bit more.

"Ginny..." he trails of and I glance at him.

"I've been poisoning him, you know," I say softly as I swallow hard. "That's why he looks so terrible. His magic is weak. Even a lumos spells tires him."

He's still just staring at me, his eyes hard and calculating.

"Now would be a good time to kill him," I say coldly as the box Zabini gave me weighs heavily against my lap.

He's in front of me again and he takes my head in his hands, placing a firm kiss against my lips before I can pull away. Then his hand slides down to my neck where he feels the raised punctures that mark my skin.

He pulls back and moves my braid over my shoulder to see them better. I know there's a whole litter there now... Tom had been drinking more and more from my neck with each session and would never heal them. Draco's face changes to something I can't readily identify as he looks at the places where the Dark Lord would take my blood. Then his fingers trace the bruise that rings around my neck from tugging on the necklace.

"This..." he falters for a second as he presses his forehead against mine. I'm not sure if it's because there's too much emotion in his voice, or he's not sure what he wants to say. Either would be surprising for me. "This shouldn't have happened this way."

I put my hand on his as it rests on my neck. He smells like Draco and I lean in and hug him, my arms wrapped around his waist. Hadn't I dreamed of this moment? Didn't I want him? Why was I being so weird about it?

"You're... this is real, right?" I ask pathetically as I pull back, letting him run his hand down my face. "This isn't like... a spell or anything? This is real?"

He studied my face for a moment and then realization set in. Why would I ask such a thing? He must be wondering that... and after thinking it through... I think he found the troubling answer. An answer I would never ever tell him.

"This is real," he says firmly, he jaw set in an angry line. "I will never let us be apart again," he says dangerously. "This is all my fault."

He whispered that last part, like he was talking to himself.

Draco stares at me until the fight drags him back to the center of it, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

The fight wages on behind me and I feel useless once again, but I don't want to fight any more. I don't care about any of it. I just want to go home. Someone gets killed to my left and I watch as a dagger gets dislodged from the death eater's hand. It skitters across the floor until it lands somewhere close to my foot. I eye it... and then pick it up, turning it in my fingers.

I remember this.

It was in the box that Zabini brought out at the dinner. It had killed Dudley Dursley. It must have some kind of magical properties for a wizard to hold on to it. I hold it up and look at my reflection... dark eyes stare back and a strand of red hair falls across my cheek.

It reminds me of a dream I had.

The Serpent and the Queen.

I know where I've seen this dagger before and I play it through my mind once again. The woman with dark hair stranded on the boat. The Dark wizard coming to her and giving her a choice to bring back her children. Blood for Blood... this dagger against her throat... a promise.

I feel a chill go up my spine.

Looking at my reflection with dark and tired eyes staring back... my reflection... his reflection. The man had red hair like mine... red hair like a Weasley. Tom... and a promise and a dagger... I bring the dagger down and look back at the crown still resting along the velvet lining.

The necklace Tom had given me weighs heavily against my chest so I clutch the yellow stone and hold it up to the green light. The firelight catches the cuts in the gem and scatters it across my face.

The woman wore a necklace like this in my dream as well.

A long golden chain and a yellow stone dangling at the end.

I bring the dagger up to my neck and push the blade against the golden chain. I pull at it as the chain digs painfully into my neck, leaving an angry red mark to add to the already painful bruise. I keep going until the necklace snaps and it goes flying off of me... landing somewhere against the wall with a hiss of dying magic.

I stare at it as I rub my sore neck.

Then I look back at the diadem.

If they want to kill him... it will surely kill me because I was bonded with him in more ways than one. The ancient promise... the forbidden magic in this crown... the bonding through our bodies... I stop crying, resolve settling over me as I stand up with the box and dagger in hand. Knowing what I have to do, I walk around the dead and wounded bodies to the heart of the room.

I see Millicent fighting her Death Eater uncle who had introduced her at her coming out during the summer. He kills her when she's too slow to deflect his quick curse and she slumps against one of the pillars. She wasn't the traitor I thought she was and I feel bad for my hateful thoughts towards her, but there's no time for that now.

I'm on a mission, the music in my head playing loudly over the carnage, spurring me forward.

….You wait, little girl, on an empty stage... for fate to turn the light on...

I take no caution with my steps and curses go flying close to my body, some actually hitting the skirt of my dress and tearing holes in it. I can hear my father calling to me, telling me to hide... to run away, but I've already made a decision and I know what the outcome is going to be.

….Your life, little girl, is an empty page... That men will want to write on...

Harry had already played the martyr card against the Dark Lord... and I'm not Harry... I'm not lucky... Dumbldore never prepared me for anything that would happen like he had prepared Harry Potter. I remember after the Chamber of Secrets, Dumbledore brought Harry to his office to talk to him, and he didn't say anything to me. He let McGonagal handle my trauma.

Now they're both dead.

...You are sixteen, going on seventeen...Baby, it's time to think...

I'm not Harry. I will not be coming back from this. I have no one who loves me enough to protect me from it and I think I'm okay with that. I think I've known for a while this was going to happen.

…. Better beware... be canny and careful...

It just took me a while to figure it out. I'm slow on those kind of things... I'm not smart like Draco... or lucky like Harry...

... Baby, you're on the brink...

I wonder if they knew this was going to happen. I wonder...

….You are sixteen, going on seventeen...

When I get to the center of the room, right under the opened roof with the sun beating down, I drop to my knees and carefully open the box again... the crown whining at me as I hold the dagger over it.

….Fellows will fall in line...

I lick my painfully dry lips.

...Eager young lads and rogues and cads...

I tighten my shaking hand around the dagger.

...will offer you food and wine...

"What are you doing?" I snap my head to see the Dark Lord right in front of me, a nasty gash along his cheek that's oozing dark blood not natural for a living creature.

…. Totally unprepared are you...

I lick my dry lips again as I hold the dagger tight, poised right over the crown that's home to our mangled and tangled souls

... to face a world of men...

"Don't be foolish," he says darkly, his wand lying in his right hand.

...timid and shy and scared are you...

I can hear the hall become quiet... the fight had stopped for both sides and they were all watching me and the Dark lord.

...of things beyond your ken...

He glances down to the box and then to the dagger in my hand.

...You need someone older and wiser... telling you what to do...

"Give me the crown," he says softly, looking me in the eyes. "Give it to me... now," he orders more sharply.

...I am seventeen, going on eighteen...

I feel that itching in my chest...

...I'll take care of you...

I hesitate and he clenches his fist.

"Now!" he shouts in anger and my resolve falters as our bond fights to obey him.

"Don't speak to her like that," I hear Draco somewhere behind me, but I ignore it.

He was just as bad, ordering me to do things that he wanted...

Tom holds out his left hand and offers me his open palm. "Give it to me now... and the dagger," he says, looking at the shining blade I have hovering over his precious soul. "Remember," he says darkly. "I am the only one who cares for you. I'm the only one who wants you to be at your best. The others hold you down, the others put mudbloods ahead of you when they all know what a powerful pureblood you are."

I swallow hard. I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. Thinking of my dream and the man in the boat... I know I have the power to do it.

I don't want to be weak anymore.

"No."

I said that so plainly and so firmly. I could feel it then... the bond that was between us broke... Like it was that easy. Like there was a taunt string connecting us together and that one word was a knife cutting through it.

The Dark Lord must have felt it too because he came closer to me and lifted his wand to my chest.

"Ginevra," he says in a dark and deadly voice as the world falls away from us, just leaving him and I to stare at one another. "As your head of house, I command that you give it to me."

I licked my lips again and shook my head. "No," I whisper.

His eyes were enraged and his wand hand shook, but he dropped the hand to his side. He probably wanted to save his magic, not wasting it on me because he was as weak enough as it was.

"No?" he says smoothly, his taunting voice back as his upper lip curls up in a sneer.

"No," I say again, trying to sound stronger.

...I am sixteen going on seventeen...

I knew he was going to hit me the split second before it happened. His anger was practically vibrating the walls and I clenched my eyes shut, waiting for the impact as he raised his left hand. He smacked me hard across the face and I fell to the side but caught myself with my arm.

...I know that I'm naive...

I didn't cry or feel embarrassed like before... In fact, the smack seemed to spur me into action and the flames of the torches were roaring high into the air as I lifted the dagger and slammed it down at the heart of the crown.

….Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet...

I felt like the air had been sucked out of my lungs as the crown hissed and cried out. I felt dizzy as smoke clouded my vision... the building was on fire, but I didn't really care as I slumped to the side.

...and willingly I believe...

People started screaming again, curses were thrown above my head as I curled my body.

When I closed my eyes, I was brought back to a memory of me and Draco right after we went boating on that river.

I was sitting in between his legs eating an apple as he told me about our families history... why we hated each other and what had happened years before either of us were born. It was all about love lost, of course... like it always is. Our families were fighting over the Black Hills that was home to one of the purest pockets of magic in the world... If you said the right words any wish would come true.

Black hills... Folk hills...

I curl a little bit more and wish to go home.

I just want to go home.

….I am sixteen...

I wish I could go home.

...Going on seventeen...

I want to go home.

...Innocent as a rose...

I need to go home.
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Envy and Manipulations