A/N - Warning, this chapter is what the M rating is for. It is a violent chapter and contains physical and sexual abuse. You are warned.

Chapter 7 – Desperation

The end of May found Ginny almost feeling as if she could survive in her new life. She had found at least a few good things on which she could focus in order to manage. She doubted she would ever be happy, but her new life had settled into a routine of sorts.

Weekends were still difficult, however, and she depended on thoughts of the short notes from her family, or the memory of peaceful afternoons with Draco, or watching her swamp to draw her attention away from the more unhappy events in her life.

This particular weekend had started off normally. As was typical on weekends, she and her husband dressed to attend one of the social events that were common among Voldemort's inner circle. Attendees at these parties were the elite, the most loyal, the most vicious. Ginny hated every last one of them – both the parties and each of the guests.

She spoke little during the events, having nothing in common with the other attendees, but she did listen, hoping to pick up information that might someday help in defeating Voldemort.

The highlight of that particular weekend was a Saturday evening dinner party which happened to be more boring than usual. Ginny spent much of her time standing in the corner, warily watching the other guests and imagining ways that she might poison the lot of them. She wondered if they suspected her motives and amused herself with the thought that that was the reason that she'd not yet been requested to host a party at Malfoy Manor.

She endured her usual trials during the course of the evening. There were the open taunts and insults against her friends and family, the sickeningly glowing praise of their Dark Lord and, of course, there was Augustus Rookwood, giving her his usual leering looks.

Weeks ago, she'd found the mental resolve to turn off her emotions during these soirees. She had started developing an alter ego of sorts at the parties, and it became a game where she secretly thought of herself as being superior to them all and internally laughed at their stupidity.

As usual, she didn't eat or drink anything at the dinner, out of caution that the food might be tainted in some way. Instead, she pushed her food around on her plate, giving the impression of eating. Over the weeks, she'd practically mastered it. It was becoming quite routine.

The party ran extremely late, dragging well into the early hours. She saw nothing particularly intriguing about the party, yet the guests remained, driving Ginny almost mad with boredom and an overwhelming desire to go home.

Finally, the reason for the late evening became known when a special guest arrived to join in the festivities. She felt herself shiver as the atmosphere in the room drastically changed. Looking over at the entryway, she soon realized why. Lord Voldemort himself had entered the room.

She'd known him and loved him and feared him once, when she was eleven, the cursed diary having made her far too familiar with the madness behind the man. But the creature entering the room was not a man. She cringed.

Fortunately, he paid her no mind, as the others in the room were far too busy fawning over him. She barely contained her feelings of disgust.

That was when he turned and looked directly at her.

"You disapprove of me, my dear Ginevra," he stated. Those in his inner circle fear even a stray thought, she remembered hearing Draco say. Suddenly she was well aware of her mistake. She'd allowed her thoughts to become too rebellious at these gatherings, by not fully realizing the power that Voldemort wielded in this area.

She said nothing, standing and staring wide-eyed as the most evil, loathsome man in the world stepped toward her and her husband.

"Lucius, a word," he said.

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius said, stepping forward and bowing low before him. She thought he looked like a house elf.

"And yes, they are, Ginevra," Voldemort responded to her unspoken comment. "Everyone in this room understands their position in my world," he said, motioning about the room as others bowed around him. "Everyone, except you."

She realized that she was the only one clearly not paying homage to this creature. She looked about hesitantly, and then gave a shaky, low curtsy.

"Better, Ginevra. Better, but your thoughts give me cause for concern."

Internally, she cursed herself for never having learned any form of Occlumency. Voldemort turned back to her and gave a slight chuckle. "It wouldn't help, Ginevra." Damn!

He turned to Lucius. "Lucius, my loyal servant, you've ensnared a beautiful bride," he said.

"Thank you, my Lord," he responded respectfully.

"After all these months, however, she seems to remain as willful as ever," he continued.

"Yes, My Lord."

"And that is the problem, isn't it?" he said turning and addressing everyone in the room. Ginny cringed, as Lucius took a moment to give her a dark look.

Voldemort continued, and she got the distinct impression that this particular exchange had been planned. He didn't need to speak louder, because every ear in the room was aptly tuned to his every sound and movement, but he was clearly a master of theatrics. He raised his voice, just a bit to make sure that the crowd understood that he was now addressing them all. "There are far too many who remain unwilling to accept that we are molding the world for the greater good of all wizards."

The murmur of agreement at his statement echoed throughout the room.

The creature who was once Tom Riddle now ignored her as he played dramatically to his audience. "Ginevra is not the only problem, however. We have too many desirable, pure-blooded witches and wizards who refuse to succumb to the inevitable. That fact makes them undesirable as spouses and even more undesirable as parents to our future generation."

Ginny felt her blood run cold at his words. Something bad was going to happen, and she had a terrible thought that it might be about to happen to her.

The crowd continued to make approving noises in agreement at Voldemort's speech, and he was giving the appropriate theatrical pause to allow his words to sink in.

"Idealists, such as our young Ginevra, give us cause for concern," he said, motioning toward her as she stood frozen in place, unsure of what she could possibly do to rectify her mistake. She quickly realized that her best course of action was to do nothing as the monster in front of her continued his speech. All eyes in the room were now focused on her as he continued, "While they may be managed in the current times, they will pass down their misguided idealism to their children, creating a further rift in our world."

Again, murmurs of agreement.

"Dear Lucius has already seen the results of how disappointing a child can be as a result of a mother who is too soft," he said, motioning toward her husband. She looked over at Lucius, trying to discern any expression on his face, but she saw nothing. Once again, she wondered if Narcissa had been murdered because Draco was a disappointment as Voldemort's words and tone implied.

"But, I am a man of peace," he said. Ginny just about gagged at hearing the words.

"Therefore, it is my privilege to announce plans for the betterment of our future. As of today, my loyal followers, I wish you to be the first to know that laws will soon be drafted to allow our benevolent government to obtain custody of all children under the age of five."

Ginny felt her blood run cold at the words.

Voldemort's face then twisted into an evil smile and Ginny felt bile rise in the back of her throat at the sight. "In the very near future, every child with an appropriate blood background will have the unprecedented opportunity to be raised in an environment that is best suited for their talents and heritage."

She forced herself to breathe as she processed the madman's words. They were going to take the children. They were going to kidnap the children and brainwash them to follow Voldemort. A deep panic at the realization began to run rampant through her body.

She didn't hear the rest of the speech, something about him calling for volunteers to be the first surrogate parents. All she could think about was Bill's son and Fred's daughter, both of whom might soon be taken forcefully from their families.

She had to do something.

Her mind darted hysterically back and forth with desperate ideas. She started calculating how close she was to Voldemort, what she could use as a weapon...

"Lucius!" she heard Voldemort say loudly, stopping his speech as well as interrupting her frantic thoughts.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Your wife is planning to murder me. Remove her from my presence and teach her some respect. Now!"

She stood, stunned for a moment, cursing the fact that she was so very easy to read. Then, she looked over at Lucius. She only had a moment to process the fury in his eyes before he grasped her arm in a painfully tight grip and Apparated back to the manor.

They landed in the entrance hall, Ginny falling from being thrown off balance as Lucius released her.

"Get up!"

He didn't wait for her, instead, reaching down and hauling her to her feet.

"You have embarrassed me!"

She'd finally lost her temper. It was one thing to hear those fools talking reverently about Voldemort at their prissy little parties, but it was another to hear the inhuman creature's clearly insane plans. She hadn't thought it possible, but her opinion of the lot of them had actually dropped even further. She could no longer hold her tongue.

"In front of that THING? You must be joking!" she spat back.

"You have shown a lack of respect for the Dark Lord. Not even Narcissa was allowed such leeway."

"And what do you intend to do about it?" she challenged, her temper finally gone well past its limit.

His response was a powerful strike across her face. She saw stars.

She'd cowered in the past. Over the weeks, he'd stopped beating her because she'd willingly fulfilled her duties as his wife but she could not, would not, stand down in the face of the atrocity that had been announced. For the first time in her marriage, she struck back, landing a punch on his jaw that would have made her brothers proud.

"I will not be treated that way!" she shouted, watching him stagger back in shock and pain.

He'd only been stunned for a moment and, unfortunately, she hadn't had time to formulate any kind of plan as to what she might actually do after striking him. His gaze only darkened as he stepped closer to where she stood her ground.

"You'll be treated as the Dark Lord dictates," he said, wiping blood from his lip. "And the Dark Lord has stated that you need to learn respect."

She backed away, having no wand, her only defense being her own small body. Lucius wasn't an overly large man, but she knew she was no match for him.

The struggle didn't last long. He grabbed her arm and she immediately began to kick and claw, only earning her another blow across the face. She continued to struggle but was unable to break free as he hauled her up the stairs. She tried to collapse, making herself a dead weight and slowing his progress, so, he dragged her, twisting her arm painfully in the process. Somewhere in the journey, her head collided with something hard, possibly his boot but most likely one of the marble steps and she almost blacked out entirely.

At the top of the stairs, he tired of trying to haul her toward the bedroom as she continued to resist. Instead, he grabbed her hair and lifted her. She managed to land a few kicks, but she was now dizzy and disoriented from the blow to her head. Still, she fought with every ounce of strength she possessed.

He finally turned her away from him to minimize her ability to strike out and forced her against the banister at the top of the stairway, her ribs smashing hard into the elaborately carved stone. She felt a crack and a sharp stabbing pain in her side, which sucked the wind from her lungs and crippled her with an agonizing pain, but that was the least of her worries as the upper half of her body was now far over the railing and she was more concerned about falling five meters headfirst to the marble floor below. She grabbed onto the railing desperately to prevent herself from going any further.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, growling into her ear. "I've been too accommodating to you, Ginevra. Your only use to me is to bear a child, which, I must say has been an abysmal failure up to this point. We will have to work harder at that, won't we?"

"No," she sobbed desperately, knowing that her protests were useless. He'd won. She had nothing left to fight with.

Forcing her torso over the banister to keep her off-balance and unable to resist, he lifted her skirt and tore at her undergarments in order to complete his work. Her hands frantically grasped the railing with every last ounce of her strength to prevent her from toppling over each time he pressed into her. When he finished, he pulled her up from her position on the banister and turned her to him. She was limp with fatigue and pain as he held her up to speak to her.

"Let us hope that we do not have to repeat this lesson, Ginevra," he said harshly and with that, he turned and left, presumably to return to his Dark Lord's side.

She stood there for a moment, stunned and whimpering. Her thoughts torn between the nightmare that was her life and the need to send a message to her family to warn them. Physical need overcame as she desperately needed to find a way to heal herself in order to function. She tried to turn to her bedroom but the dizziness overcame her. Before she moved two steps away from the banister she'd been holding for support, she lost consciousness and dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

She woke once or twice, first noticing that it was dawn, then again at midday. Each time, she tried to get up, but the pain and dizziness were too much.

- x - x -

Draco didn't know why he'd started returning on Sunday evenings instead of Monday mornings. His weekend retreat had always been a welcome haven, but for some reason in recent weeks, he found himself drawn back to the Manor by thoughts of seeing Ginny. As the weeks of spring came, not only did he return on Sunday evening, but he found that he arrived earlier and earlier.

As he walked into the house this particular weekend, it was only late afternoon. He moved through the ground floor quietly, hoping to see Ginny working alone in her parlor but was disappointed to find the room empty. Not that he was entirely surprised, it was rare that he encountered her alone on a Sunday evening, but still he held a small hope.

He began to wander back to his room when he mistakenly ran into his father, exiting his own study, Augustus Rookwood by his side.

"Father," Draco acknowledged, giving a curt nod of his head.

"Draco," his father returned, just as formally.

He walked away from the older men, as casually as he could manage, not wanting to be questioned about his unusually early arrival, but slowed his pace when he heard Rookwood's next question.

"So your wife will not be joining us for dinner? I was so looking forward to her company." Draco tried not to cringe at the man's seedy tone.

"She has retired for the evening," Lucius responded coldly.

Draco turned the corner, unable to listen further at the risk of appearing obvious. Instead, he began walking slowly toward his room, deep in thought about his ever growing attachment to the girl.

He reached the top of the stairs and began to turn, sparing a glance back down the hallway toward the master suite. He hoped Ginny was alright, since it seemed rather unusual for her to retire so early in the evening.

A hint of something light colored on the floor caught his eye and he took a step closer to inspect the oddity. It appeared to be Ginny's dress, discarded in a lump on the floor. The sight was more than a bit unusual and Draco swallowed a dry lump in his throat in disgust. Deciding that he would check on his friend in the morning, he was in the process of walking over to pick up the garment when it moved and made a pitiful sound.

He ran the last few steps.

"Ginny, oh my God, Ginny where are you hurt?" he asked, finding her head buried among the folds of golden silk. Her face was bruised badly on the left side, blood had poured from her nose and had run down the front of the expensive gown, her left eye was swollen shut.

"Can't...can't breathe..." she whispered. Her hand weakly reached to her side. Making a quick assumption based on the sight of her bruised face, he tore open the tight bodice of the ruined dress to try to allow her to get some air. She winced as his hand brushed against her ribcage.

"Probably a broken rib," he muttered partly to himself. "Does it hurt anyplace else?"

She paused, looking slightly afraid of responding, then, after a moment, she shook her head negatively.

"C'mon, let's get you fixed up then," he said, lifting her up and helping her to stand. "It's probably better if you walk. If I carry you, I'm afraid of injuring that rib further."

She nodded and he moved to support her as gently as possible. He started making steps toward the nearest guest room and that was when he noticed the awkwardness and pain as she walked. She most certainly was in pain elsewhere. She'd been raped...again.

He bit back from shouting in anger at the injustice of the situation.

Entering the room, he called the house elf to turn down the bed and get him towels and water. As the elf readied the rest of the room, he picked her up as gently as possible and put her onto the bed.

Suddenly aware that her dress was open, revealing her undergarments, she started to pull the torn material together.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I'll be alright now. You better go."

"I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure you're well enough," he said, slightly angry. She allowed his father to do unspeakable things to her, yet, she became modest and shy at him, her friend, getting a glimpse of her underwear?

She turned her head away, apparently not wanting him to see the tears that were now watering her eyes. "Please, just go. I don't want you to see me like this."

He sat on the side of the bed and, for some reason, felt compelled to begin stroking the hair from her tear-stained face. "Ginny, I want to help you. What kind of a friend would I be to leave you like this? Please, don't be shy with me, not when you're hurt."

"I'm just so...ashamed," she sobbed.

He touched the side of her face, the side that wasn't bruised, and gently turned her to look at him. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Ginny Weasley. You are the strongest woman I have ever seen, and I'm a better person for knowing you."

She smiled at that, albeit weakly, the light finally returning to her eyes, or at least the eye that wasn't swollen shut. He leaned forward and gave her a short, soft kiss, ignoring the mess of blood covering her face.

She didn't remember much of the night after that. Draco gave her a potion to help with her mild concussion which put her to sleep almost immediately. She'd tried to push him away prior to falling asleep, she really did, but he'd refused. She'd even tried to argue with him without success.

In truth, it was the simple fact that she'd been unable to handle the situation on her own that made her feel far more vulnerable than she would have liked. That, along with Draco's tender expression of concern for her had left her feeling far too many emotions that were best left alone if she was hoping to remain sane.

Instead, she'd fallen asleep feeling unusually safe. When she awoke, she found that the blood had been cleaned from her face, her rib had been healed and she was dressed in a modest, clean nightgown. Despite all her injuries, it had been the best sleep she'd had since she'd arrived in this nightmare.

It wasn't easy, but she forced herself out of the bed shortly after dawn, unwilling to have Lucius come looking for her. She moved slowly back to her room, trying to assess the remainder of her injuries as she walked. Her face still felt bruised, but was no longer swollen, as she could open her left eye well enough. The concussion was better, but not entirely gone, as she found that quick movements left her dizzy and a little nauseous. The rib was also still feeling bruised and tender, but no longer to the point of interfering with her ability to breathe.

As usual, her attire was out and waiting for her as she entered her own bedroom. Almost immediately, she felt a slight headache begin to return at the familiar sight.

She cleaned and dressed, making her way slowly to breakfast and was unsurprised to find Lucius waiting for her, reading his copy of the Daily Prophet and acting as if nothing unusual had happened.

She wanted to hate him further, but she was beyond that. The sight of him now only brought a feeling of cold emptiness. It was something beyond her ability to categorize.

Taking her seat, she quietly began eating her breakfast, neither making an attempt at any type of greeting.

After several minutes, he carefully folded his paper, placing it to the side and stated bluntly, "Must you appear at breakfast in such a state?"

"I'm sorry, My Lord," she responded calmly. "I am only in the state that you left me."

She wanted to say more, perhaps to add some biting remark about giving more specific instructions while she was unconscious, but she knew that it would only cause her more grief. She reluctantly held her tongue. She even gave a half-hearted attempt to look contrite.

"As per our agreement," he said, with strong emphasis on the word 'agreement', "it is expected that you maintain a proper image at all times."

"Of course," she replied, appearing to be properly submissive, while seething inside.

After Lucius left, Ginny searched the house looking for Draco. She wanted to apologize for her horrible attitude toward him, when he had only been trying to help. He didn't deserve her anger but unfortunately, he'd been her only outlet at the time.

To her bitter disappointment, he was nowhere to be found.

She returned to her rooms and tried to find an appropriate potion somewhere in her cabinets to help with the bruising on her face. Lucius had gotten a good look at what he'd done to her, she didn't need to press the issue and incite further argument.

After a lonely lunch, she went outside an sat on a bench to admire her swamp. She loved it so very much. It was a good reminder that she was here for a reason and that thought helped her get through the day. She was about to go inside when she heard the familiar sounds of Draco's footsteps approaching.

She didn't turn to face him, the potion she'd found had helped, but her face still remained slightly discolored. Somehow, she was still embarrassed to have him see it, even though he'd already seen the damage at its worst.

"Ginny..."

She didn't allow him to finish, cutting in with her apology quickly. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't want you to see me like that. I shouldn't have been so snappish."

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he replied, moving around in front of her so she could no longer avoid his gaze.

There was an awkward pause, neither comfortable with the topic of the previous day. After a few moments she spoke, "I need to ask you, next time you go to Diagon Alley, if you could pick up some more potions for bruising and such. I'd brew it myself, but I was always terrible at potions."

"I'd rather not have to do that," he responded looking at her pointedly.

She was more than a little surprised by his answer. He was denying her a healing potion? Her brow furrowed in confusion and more than a bit of annoyance. She forgot about trying to hide her appearance from him

"Why not?" she finally asked, since he seemed to be unwilling to volunteer the information.

He sat down beside her, his expression seeming a bit contrite. He looked down at his hands almost nervously. She found his demeanor to resemble a little boy who'd done something bad and she found it incredibly endearing.

Her voice softened as she prodded him again. "Draco, why not?"

He took a deep breath and responded, "I was there today, in Diagon Alley. Spent the whole morning there doing some thinking." He sighed again with a small amount of defeat in his voice. "I did pick up some potions for the next time..."

It was obviously difficult for him to say whatever it was, so she remained quiet while he found his words.

Finally he spoke, but his voice was more than a bit shaky. "I don't want there to be a next time, Ginny. I swear if he does that to you again, I'll kill him myself."

"Draco, I know I did wrong. It was my own fault. I provoked it."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Ginny!" he said sharply.

She jumped. It was so unlike him to raise his voice and while his remark hadn't actually been as if he was shouting at her, the command in his voice was something she'd been completely unprepared for.

She stared at him, her mouth hanging slightly open with her momentary loss of words.

He didn't look at her as he continued, "I went to Diagon Alley today to see your brothers. I had a good long talk with them and we've decided that we want you out of here."

"You decided..." She gave a sharp, short, humorless chuckle. "Let me make sure I understand this. You and my brothers decided that I should leave here."

"Yes," he said, now looking at her direction, his expression dead serious.

"I can't believe you just said that."

"I can get you past the wards while he's away at the Ministry. All we need is a few days to get your family into hiding and you can go home."

He'd been expecting to see her face light up with joy, instead, he saw her brow furrow in worry and a bit of anger.

"No, Draco."

"What?"

"I said no. I'm staying here. I've already thought long and hard about something like that. Fantasized about it rather frequently, actually. My answer is no. It's not feasible to hide everyone and, even if we could, he'd find some other way to hurt someone in order to draw me out."

"And he's not hurting you now? Hurting your family by keeping you here?"

"We couldn't hide forever, Draco," she said softly. She turned to him, taking one of his hands, "Besides, what would he do to you if he found out that you'd helped me?"

"I told you not to worry about that. I have my own plans."

"That's why you've been siphoning off money from the accounts every month. Am I right?"

He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"I've been going over the older books to learn. It's rather noticeable that the galleons started disappearing right after you took over the accounting duties. "

He gave a sheepish half-smile. "I'm surprised you didn't mention it sooner," he said.

"Not much reason to," she said. "It's not exactly enough to say you'd be living a lavish lifestyle."

"It's enough to get me started somewhere if and when I need to leave."

She nodded. "Your secret is safe with me. But, I should warn you that if it was easy enough for me to notice, certainly he would find out about it shortly after I left."

"Thank you, I suppose. But we weren't talking about me. You changed the subject."

"I'm not leaving."

"Ginny..."

"Don't fight me on this. And don't you dare bring my family into it either," she said angrily. "I don't need them worrying about me. This was my decision and I'm going to live with it. I just need to be more careful, is all."

He dropped his head into his hands in defeat. "This is not wise Ginny. You have no idea of the game that he's playing."

"And I suppose you do?"

He shook his head no, still hiding his face in his hands. Finally looking up, he said, "You have no idea what he's capable of. He's not sane."

"He killed your mother, didn't he?" she asked, the conversation finally giving her the opening to ask about the topic that had been on her mind almost daily since she'd arrived.

He shook his head, "Not exactly. It's complicated, but he blamed her for my failings. The Dark Lord did the rest. They made her an example."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"It surprised me," Draco said sharply. "He loved my mother," he said the disbelief and grief still evident in his voice. "They loved each other very much."

"Oh..."