Obviously this idea got a hold of me and wouldn't let go.

Enjoy... Reviews and such welcome. Flames are cool as I enjoy S'mores...yummm!

This is a sequel to The Taking of Ginny Weasley.


The first time he saw it was during their, what he had begun to call, experimental dates.

His thumb moved over it. It was small and insignificant, it was jagged. A half moon impression on her upper arm, really just a curiosity. He did wonder how she got it but the though was pushed away as she began to pull him forward and he blindly followed.

Sometimes, they would experiment with kissing styles. Eyes closed and noses barely touching. Butterfly and Eskimo for variety. Sometimes he would play with her lung capacity and she teased and experimented with his facial expressions.

The more serious experiments such as how they felt about each other or how much skin to skin contact was safe for his teenage mind or her greedy little hands were excluded to when they were sure to be alone for hours.

They would absconded to a rarely used storage shed. Here they would talk and kiss and talk and touch and he inspected her in ways that would have shortened his life dramatically if her brothers ever found out.

His hand had been slow but insistently pulling the clips from her hair. The red curls bounced wildly into his hands, grateful for their freedom.

His hand curved to her spine, raising all the little hairs on the back of her neck. The pressure of his hand, inched her forward. Her skirt shortened as she straddled his lap. He let her remove his glasses and he blinked at his fuzzy surroundings. His hands moved to either side of her, sliding the fabric off her shoulders.

He kissed the blush that stained her shoulders. His fingers shoving aside the narrow strip of blue cotton that interrupted her skin. He nipped at her collarbone, one hand caressing the fallen straps against her arms.

She tugged his shirt from the waist band of his jeans and he reciprocated with her blouse.

He laid back and rolled bringing her underneath him. He traced her hairline, placing kisses every few moments. He bent kissing the hollow at her throat, he moved down. He kissed the stomach that hopefully one day would house his children. She squirmed and laughed in response, he moved his hands up, it was then he felt something on her arm.

'A nail mark maybe?' He fumbled for his glasses, she reached away from him. His dark expression was enough for her to stop, unaware of what was making his eyes so stormy. He had seen this mark before of that he was sure. It had to be infused with something, the last he had seen of it had been several months ago and yet it still looked angry and new.

During one of these rare moments, he talked and asked her for the first time about her past. "Gin, where'd you get that scar from?" She pushed his hands away," I don't know, accident." she shrugged.

She sat up and Harry reluctantly moved off her. She stood up, covered in a pale blue bra and black skirt. She reached for her blouse, roughly putting it back on, "Harry, they'll be back soon."

He held her back, his arms wrapping around her. "It couldn't have been an accident. I saw this mark a while ago, it looks exactly the same." he answered. Ginny rubbed her arm, "I don't know then. I've had it for sometime." she replied.

"How long have you had it?" he let go, annoyed by her obvious ignorance. "I don't know, Harry. Why is it so bloody important. Just let it go, ok!" Ginny began gathering masses of her hair and clipping it, her back to Harry.

He studied her attitude, she was hiding something and he didn't like it. "You can tell me, I'm not going to get angry or anything." he said wanting to bite his tongue the moment the words left his mouth. "Oh, well since you give me permission, who the blazes do you think you are?" she shouted, whirling on him.

"That's not what I meant," he interrupted, his hands raised in defense. "What did you mean then. Go on." her hands had gone to her hips, her stance channeling her mother. "I meant, you're my mine…" at her thunderous expression he backtracked. "You're my girlfriend, I just worry when mysterious marks show up and …that's all." he whispered.

"Get this straight, Mr. Potter. I am not your property and for how well you know my body, you have not had the full scope of it all. So for all you know, I…" Ginny shut her mouth, her hands balled up and staring at Harry in horror.

"What exactly wouldn't I know, Miss Weasley?" he asked his tone dangerously smooth. "Never mind we better leave." she shakily replied, pulling her shoes on and stepping towards the door.

Harry eyed her, 'What did she mean? as far as I know?' He abruptly turned her, his green eyes pining her to the door. "What are you not telling, huh?" he asked. His face was inches from hers, his arms effectively trapping her against the door. "What deep dark secret can you have. Ginevra." he muttered. He watched her face pale, she shook her head, "Tom…".

Harry felt the black bubble of hate stir inside. He reared back, his hand pounded on the door behind her making her jump.

Her look of terror undid him, he fell to the floor ashamed. He saw her kneel but flinched angrily at her voice. "Harry…I'm so sorry." she breathed. He looked up to those chocolate brown eyes, saw his own turbulent green reflected in their depths. "Do you…?" he swallowed the painful question, he didn't think he could handle the answer.

"I have no control over it." she hiccupped, fat tears dripping down her face. "You are mine, Gin." he cupped her face, sliding his hand against those pretty little freckles. "Harry." she began but he interrupted her. "No! You are mine. The moment I saw you running after that train." she gasped.

He gripped her shoulders, his nails marking her skin, "The moment I saw you laying on that Chamber floor, the moment." Harry spit the word, " He told me off how he had persuaded you." Ginny hid her face away from him, her sobs echoing in his ears. "When he described how he made you …how he…" he could not say it. If he said it, it would be true. "Listen, you are only mine and nobody else's no matter what happens," he took a deep calming breath.

"You remember that, just like I belong to you." He took her in his arms, her sadness sending tremors through his body. He saw his fingerprints on her, mirroring the one he had noticed before. 'That bastard, he marked her.' The reality hit him, visions of Tom's hands on her very young self.

Another more disgusting thought, 'he had said she had enjoyed it. Did she? What had she done?' When he had handled her roughly, she had called out the other's name. Harry looked at her, a new light shinning on her. 'What else had she kept from me.'

He stood up, not able to tolerate her so close. His jealousy was eating at him, throwing all sorts of suspicions on her. He could not handle this betrayal from her. Anybody but her, she looked fearfully at him.

Instant guilt crashed with his other emotions, he had never meant for her to be afraid of him. He could not trust himself if what he thought had even a speck of truth.

If she had willingly fallen with Riddle could he walk away from her, more importantly, would he want to?

to be continued...