AN- my first Tom and Gin fic so please be kind and patient with me. Gin might seem a bit OOC but that's due to the hardships of life during the war which have toughened her up.
Ginny drew her hood closer to her face, her red hair proving to be of great inconvenience in the midst of the billowing storm. Impatient, she treaded on, snapping her fingers and lightly tracing a strand of fire that tumbled down her back, smiling as she watched it turn from red to a deep shade of black.
"Ginny," a horse whisper came from the night, calling her through the wind. "Is that you?"
"Yes, it's me." She halted, looking around. "Where are you?"
"Don't come any closer!" the voice suddenly said, alarmed.
"Why?" Ginny asked, her brows arching into a frown.
"Listen, they're going to kill you. This is all a set up. You and the group have become way too much of a threat. They're not willing to risk it, not even for the sake of destroying Voldemort! There is an order issued for your capture. You have to get away, move out of the country, seek sanctuary overseas. Right now, you're a far worse enemy than even Voldemort."
Ginny felt tears slide down her cheek and she swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Greg and Henry have already been executed Ginny! You're all that's left…and they're not going to stop!" Hermione's voice rose several notches.
"But Hermione, what about my family?"
"I'll tell your parents everything. When you're safe, you can send us a letter. You'll be alright away from here; they'll never know who you are, no matter where you go. You have the ability to change Ginny, so for gods' sakes, disappear!"
Ginny sighed, her mind unable to conceive that her life as she knew it had just ended. Now she was a wanted fugitive, worse than Voldemort even. Ginny scoffed, an unnatural laugh passing her by. The sound of her own laughter even sounded different. Was she really dangerous? She shook her head. It couldn't be.
"Ginny run! They've pinpointed you position!" Hermione's voice flattered and that's all Ginny need to be told as reality really began to sink in. She bolted down the alley and turned at the first left. "Take care, luv!" Hermione whispered softly as her last thoughts touched her mind.
Ginny would've answered her, however, at the moment she was concentrating more on escaping the loose Dementors that were hot on her trail, moving with an unnatural speed to catch up to her rather fast sprint.
The rain had ceased and the ground was now damp with water, the clouds shifting to reveal silver moonshine. She ran head-on, climbed on a ladder and leaped along the silent rooftops that were dead with the silence of night. Upon reaching a dead end, she dropped down three stories, landing immaculately on the empty street bellow.
Sparing a look behind, she noted the Dementors hadn't flattered on their chase. But she wasn't getting tiered. If they wanted to play, she could play too.
Pushing open the gates of St. Michelle's Cemetery, she threw her weight into the entrance of an ancient crypt, propping the door open. She climbed down despite the numerous cobwebs brought on by centuries of neglect and looked for a way out. Just as she had guessed, a trap door leading outside was hidden by layers of dust. Noises from outside brought her back to the matter at hand and she hurried over, pulling the latch loose and pushing herself through, slithering onto the grass up to a point where she could get up on her feet, and continue running. However, no such thing happened. She was wrenched out violently, dragged into the moonlight by her shoulders.
Ginny looked up, her hood slipping away from her, black tendrils of hair whipping around her face. Shock gripped her entire being and anger perturbed her mind as she gazed up into the face of none other than Harry Potter, draped in his auror clothing, his Thunderbolt at his feet.
Ginny's eyes narrowed and changed colours, from the peaceful brown, to a deep shade of cool blue. "I can't believe you, Harry! After all my family's done for you!" she yelled, now fully aware of the looming presence of other aurors and Dementors shuffling nearby.
Harry's voice remained impassive, not a tinge of emotion staining his features as he threw her onto the ground, her face landing into the mud. She spluttered, pushing herself away as she turned around just in time to see some sort of commotion behind Harry.
Harry himself drew his attention behind him and Ginny, not bothering to wait for a second chance at freedom, picked herself up and bolted into such a fast sprint she could've rivaled even the speed of a broom.
However, wand magic could still reach beyond far distances, and she stumbled into the muddy grass as a spell hit her back, her conscience slipping away from her.
She hurt everywhere. It was as if a monster had churned her bones with its massive teeth and then spat her back onto the ground. Her muscles ached, she was sore and a bump was forming atop her head. She groaned, looking around in the darkness.
Despite there being no lights in the room, Ginny's certain abilities allowed her perfect night vision and she observed that her situation was far worse than before. She was in some sort of dungeons and there was no door or any means of escape. "Hello!" she yelled in the dark, feeling rather foolish for screaming out. "Anyone there?"
It was worth a try and she didn't expect a reply. Actually she was rather surprised when an invisibility cloak was thrust at her feet, the motion moving her soft locks, now returned to their original red.
She squinted and instead of beholding Harry or another auror before her, she was captivated by a sight even more horrific than even Snape in a tutu. Standing there, flesh and bones and very much corporeal, was Tom Riddle.
He smirked at her blank and confused look and walked around her, taking hold of a few strands of her hair. "Impressive, I though you had dyed it black princess!"
She snatched her head away from his cool touch, and glared at him. "And I though you died. I guess we were both wrong, right luv?" she drawled.
Shocking her yet again, he chuckled, a low rumble that came and went innocently enough. "I see you've grown claws princess." He sounded almost appreciative. "However, you should learn against who you're using them so that they don't break."
Ginny never anticipated his next move and stumbled, caught off guard by the blow. As a reflex, her hand touched her cheek gingerly, rubbing the spot where Riddle had hit her. "Chivalrous as always I see."
He smiled, "You know me all to well." He walked in front of her, looking down into her now grey eyes. "Don't dwell in the past princess, it does you no good."
"How should you know?" she pinned him down with a gaze of such intensity that would've had anyone within her sight buried deep, six feet bellow. Not Tom Riddle.
"I am aware of your situation more than you are, Ginny luv. And for that I have a proposition for you!"
"Let me guess," she rolled her eyes, "Join me or die!"
"More or less." He smiled, the calm with which he took in the situation annoying Ginny beyond anything else. "You situation is rather like this my luv: You can either choose to help me overthrow the ministry of fools whom you served with such loyalty only hours before, or you can choose death, either by my hands," he grinned wickedly, bending down and grasping her chin gently, "or by the hands of your beloved Harry Potter." His fingers traced her lips softly, so soft, that Ginny felt herself wrapped up in a spell, electricity running through her veins.
He broke eye contact and straightened up, smiling down on her. Ginny glared at the ground before her, not daring to look up into Tom's eyes. She had already allowed herself to slip control and she wouldn't do it again!
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend princess." His voice was a foreign presence in her mind and she nodded, numbly allowing his words to sink in. He really was her only choice.
"I'll let you sleep on it." He explained, picking up his cloak and disappearing before Ginny could identify what door, if any, he had gone through.
Liked it, hated it? Review and tell me if I should continue it!
Rose