Disclaimer – I own nothing of the HP books or whatever associated, blada blada blada, you know the drill…

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Author's Note:

Creatress: SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!! SORRY!!!

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Chapter 10

Ginny braced herself for she thought she may feel as soon as her lips touched his, but the feeling that shot through her was a far cry from anything someone may brace herself against. As soon as they kissed, she suddenly felt relieved... Not pausing to wonder on this feeling, she moved her lips against his as he devoured her mouth. Raw passion and longing - something that they'd held back for almost seventeen years - spilled through them.

She wanted him - she wanted him physically. She didn't love him - she hated him. But she needed him.

"I knew you missed this, my Lady," Voldemort gasped as he pulled away.

If his words had affected her, she didn't let it show. She immediately turned her attention from his mouth to his robes. In her haste to get them off of him, she was almost clawing at him. Voldemort, who was enjoying her behaviour and the fact that the pure young girl who had written to him so long ago was now enjoying purely physical sex, had the grace to help her. As soon as his upper body was bare and his belt was off though, he suddenly barked at her to stop.

As aroused as she was, Ginny was smart enough to know when to obey him. As soon as she tried moving away however, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her off the bed, ignoring her screams of pain. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he forced her down onto her knees between his legs. A few flicks of his wrist and his member was free.

He'd thougtht he may have to force her a little here, but the Dark Lord was mistaken.

His wife glanced up at him once with her wide, chocolate brown eyes before reaching out to gently stroke his throbbing member with both hands. Above her, the Dark Lord hissed in pleasure.

Ginny, edged on by this reaction, pressed her lips to the head, evoking another pleased sound from her husband. Without warning, she started an onslaught on kisses and licks all over him as she used her hands as well to pleasure him. His hands were in her hair the second she swallowed him and he started controlling her movements by pushing her toward and away from him. Everytime he thrust into her mouth, he hit the back of her throat, but his wife wasn't making any complaints - not that he was even giving her a chance to. But, if her sudden moan was anything to go by, she was enjoying this as much as he did. He finally let her go when he came into her mouth and Ginny showed her first sign of displeasure as she started coughing. She had managed to swallow most of his cum however and only a small trickle escaped from the side of her mouth, which she wiped away.

The Dark Lord waited patiently for her to calm down. When she did, he eyed her. "Into the bed, Ginevra," he stated.

The redhead glanced at him with an unreadable expression and quietly climbed back into bed. As she did, Voldemort got up and zipped up his pants before turning around to look at her. She'd pulled the sheets to her chin and her eyes still held that undefinable inertia. He ignored it - another attempt at hiding her true feelings. He knew as well as she did, she had enjoyed every minute of that. She'd been without a man for the last sixteen years and he'd used their mind connection to trouble her to the edge of sanity in her sleep. She may not admit it to herself, but she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He gave her a small smirk. "Well, Ginevra, you just might have convinced me to let the boy live... But you want to be with him and watch him grow up, do you not?"

Ginevra quickly nodded.

"That'll take a little more..."

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"SHOW... S..." Charlotte murmered. "URE. SURE." Doing some quick calculations in her head, she added up her score and wrote it down on the piece of paper with the teetable that displayed their scores so far.

Tom eyed the board and frowned. A long, silent moment later, he added PRES to the beginning of her SURE to make "pressure."

Because both were Prefects, they were allowed to venture anywhere in the castle and were sitting in Tom's dormroom, on the bed, playing Scrabble.

Charlotte quickly tallied this and added it to his side of the teetable before looking up at him expectantly for a smug smirk or a bragging comment, but it didn't come. Tom was staring out the magiced window, which showed the grounds even though they were under it, and it was obvious that his thoughts were far away in some unknown place. The girl was almost disappointed in herself for forcing him into a game of scrabble at this time, but it was the best way she could think of to keep him from formulating some crazy plan to do something like run off to the Dark Lord. Sighing, she put the score card down.

"You know..." She began.

Tom started a little, and turned to meet her onyx black eyes.

Charlotte started rearranging the scrabble letter squares into random designs on the board, not caring that she was messing up the game that had been in progress or the fact that she wasn't making any words. "If someone was kidnapped and was to be used as bait for someone or something, the kidnapper usually makes their ransom demands clear. The headmaster and the Order haven't heard anything from the Dark Side yet." She paused, carefully choosing her words. "So maybe your mother was kidnapped for a whole other reason altogether? I mean, my mother did say that this war's been going long before you were born..."

"I just keep wondering," Tom suddenly said. Charlotte looked away from the board and looked up at him, expectantly. "Why would your mother say that he was the reason I exist today?" There was no reason to state who 'he' was.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "Maybe your parents met during the course of the war."

Tom shook his head. "But that's so wierd. That means anybody could be reason for my being here today. Even Harry Potter - he had done a lot during the wars. His work could have orchestrated my parents' meeting. Why would Miss Granger point out - " Tom suddenly stopped and looked at the board. In her careless placing of the squares to make something that looked like the beginning of a house, Charlotte had placed MANIGMARVOQWER along one line and under it: JFHBTNFBLEDB.

Charlotte glanced at the board, noticing that Tom was staring intently at it. "Is something wrong?"

Tom didn't answer her. Instead, he reached out and brushed MANIDG and QWER from the first line to be left with MARVO. He then took away JFHBTNFB and B from the second line and pushed LED a bit higher to place it beside MARVO. MARVOLED. He shuffled the squares, starting to grow a little cold. ARVOLDEM. He vaguely heard Charlotte say his name, but ignored her as he added more letters and rearranged them until he got LORD VOLDEMORT along two lines, LORD on top, VOLDEMORT on bottom, surrounded by dozens of stray letters. Heart pounding wildly and a frantic voice repeating the word "No" over and over again in his head, he started to rearrange the letters.

TOM

"...he's the reason you exist today..."

In this war we're in, there are two sides - the light and dark. Voldemort heads the Dark Side.

"Whose side was my father on?"

"He was on his own side."

RVOLO RDDLE

When he'd pushed MANIDG away, the letters had gotten scrambled. IAM sat innocently to the right of where LORD VOLDEMORT used to be.

Fingers shaking, Tom pushed the MA infront of RVOLO and the I between R and DDLE.

Oh, Lord...

No.

No.

Lord...

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Ginny cried out at the sudden intrusion. She should have known he would have entered her like this - quickly, without warning. She threw her arms around him and shrieked when he reamed into her again, sending a wave of pain and pleasure rolling over her.

"You love this, don't you?" Voldemort hissed above her. "You. Fucking. Love. This." A thrust on each word. "Answer me, Ginevra."

The lady was sobbing now, chest heaving with each shuddering breath she took. "Yes," she managed before she yelped as he rammed into with a particularily hard thrust.

"Of course, you do," Voldemort said. He suddenly pulled out of her and she whimpered. "How about twenty-two years ago? Did you love it then?"

"My lord..." His wife wasn't about to answer.

"You did, didn't you, Princess?" He leaned in close to her and let his lips run along the side of her face and around her ear as he spoke. His voice was soft, but it was laced with a kind of malice and evil that even Ginny hadn't heard before. "Let's make one thing clear - I never raped you then." He placed one soft butterly kiss at the corner of her eye, kissing away a stray tear that had fell. "Like now. Am I raping you now?"

Ginny didn't respond, only cried out against another hard thrust. He was going faster and harder now.

"Answer me, Ginevra!" the Dark Lord snapped. "Is this rape?!"

Her head was swimming... She was so close... "No..." She could hardly believe it as the word left her lips.

"You've always thought yourself the victim. The poor, unknowing damsel - but you always knew what was going on, didn't you?"

Ginny let out one sob. Gods... "Yes."

"You want this. Tell me you want this," Voldemort hissed.

"This... I... I want this." Her voice was shaking.

"Tell me who you belong to - body, mind and soul." His voice was hard and even.

Ginny could barely come up with an answer. He was going at her so hard, he was really starting to hurt her...

"Tell me!"

Tom. "My Lord..." She whispered and came, bringing him with her.

He collapsed, half on top of her and half on the bed, and both lay silently for a while as they caught their breaths. Ginny felt him inhale and exhale against her throat and the strong, steady beating of his heart against his ribcage, going quickly at first and then slowing down as he relaxed. About fifteen minutes of silence passed, before Voldemort pushed himself up a little so that his face hovered over hers.

"It's your own fault that you're here, my sweet," he stated evenly. She met his gaze and held it. That emotionless inertia was gone from her eyes. Her chocolate orbs were nows shining with a mixture of emtions that he would find impossible to correctly identify. "I may have hurt you. But you let me." He pressed his lips against her and spoke the next words against her mouth, his eyes never leaving hers. "I kissed you; you let me taint you. I touched you; you let me violate you. I fucked you and you let me hurt you."

"Because I loved you and wanted you to be happy," her voice was soft and a little bit hoarse. The Dark Lord smirked at her words and raised an eyebrow, but she was undaunted. "Excuse me for, at the age of twelve, having the mind of a child."

"And your reasons now?" A cool, amused smirk on his lips still.

Ginny looked up at him and suddenly saw the young boy she thought she knew. She'd wanted so much to please him when she was younger - as much for his approval and love as she wanted to see him just be happy. Being a child hadn't stopped her young mind from acknowledging that 1) He'd been in a diary for fifty years, that 2) He'd led a hard, arduous life with little pleasures and 3) He was almost always angry or depressed or something negative and this dark aura seemed to leave him whenever he got his way...

She actually gave him a soft smile and reached up to lightly run her fingers through his hair. "Doesn't it still make you happy?"

He gave her a lazy half-grin. "It does, Ginevra. Very."

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Charlotte stood silently, knowing she should say something but not knowing what to say, as Tom went through his dorm room, cursing up a storm and hurling objects in his rage, hatred, sorrow and feeling of utter betrayal. Letting her gaze stray away from her seething friend, her black eyes fell on the Scrabble board and pieces that were lying mostly near the front door. The game had been the first to fly, but books, ink bottles, quills, games, and other objects soon joined the mess.

Charlotte was almost shaking in her shock, lost in her thoughts at the magnitude of the situation. How? How? A sudden explosion snapped her out of her thoughts. When she looked up, Tom had his wand pointed at his desk and was muttering a spell to send it to the same fate the chair had just been doomed with - bursting into splinters all over the room. The table soon exploded and Charlotte scrambled off the bed and grabbed his wand arm.

"Tom, stop! Stop it!" She ordered over his yells at her to let him go. She looked up at him, and was suddenly thankful that looks couldn't kill. Her eyes brows furrowed a little in worry as she looked into his eyes. His pupils were dilated and his irises looked almost bloodshot. She'd noticed them tint red before, but never this much. "Tom - " She began in a whisper.

Tom suddenly let out a short, cold laugh and looked away for half a second before fixing his eyes on her. "I'm fucking named after him." He said this in an enraged whisper, a voice filled with so much anger, it almost scared the girl he was with. "Did you realize that, Charlotte? I am named after the most evil, most sadistic sorceror to have ever walked on this earth."

"Gods, Tom - "

Tom looked at her, sharply. He appeared calm, but the amount of venom in his voice was astounding. "Don't call me that."

Charlotte was silent for a moment. She didn't know why, but those words chilled her to the bone. "What?" she asked, softly.

"I want nothing to do with him," he stated, his voice even. He looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to say she understood. When she nodded, he turned away and looked at the spot where his desk and chair used to be.

"Listen," he heard Charlotte say. "I can't even begin to understand what you're feeling right now - "

"I'll tell you what I'm feeling, Charlotte," Tom suddenly snapped, turning toward her. "I feel like... Like tearing myself apart. Like I'm an abomination or some... Thing. I'm his flesh and blood. His blood is running through my veins and it feels... It... Fuck." He turned away and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Nothing makes sense anymore. What the hell was my mother thinking?! Was she evil?!"

"No, she couldn't have been..."

Tom rounded back on her. "What the hell would make her go sleep with the enemy?!"

Charlotte looked at him, worry and hesitation clear in her eyes. "Maybe she was raped - "

"Why would she name me after him?!"

Charlotte knew her next argument was weak, but it was the only one she had. "A lot of people are named Tom - "

"Riddle?!"

"Maybe she made a mistake..." Charlotte murmered quietly. As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it sounded wrong.

Tom glared at her. "Finally catching on, are you?!" When she didn't reply, he turned away.

No wonder he was hurt... Gods, his eyes... Charlotte didn't have a reply, but she noticed that his wand arm, which was still in her grip, was starting to tremble. Not entirely sure that it was the right thing to do, she stepped up in front of him and wrapped her arms around his neck. When he didn't respond, she pulled back a little and looked up at him. He was looking down at her with an unreadable expression, but it looked as if he seemed lost and angry.

Tom's mind was reeling. He had been unwanted - he had to have been a mistake. There was no other word for it. This is the lowest anybody could ever feel. He felt like he didn't deserve to exist - it wasn't as if he was ever meant to. His friend's sudden embrace caught him off guard and he turned his attention to her.

Tom was very interested in psychology - the workings of the human mind fascinated him and he'd read about what he was feeling now. There were a million things rushing through his head, but, though it seemed completely insignificant to anything, he focussed on the fact that there was a single chestnut hair against Charlotte's lower lip. He reached out and gently brushed it away. Merlin, her lip was so soft.

Forgetting his parentage and the horrid mess that the world was currently in, he suddenly realized that he wanted to kiss her. She had always been there for him, and he was quite certain that anybody else on God's green earth would have bolted rather than be alone with the only known offspring of a man so cruel people refused to speak his name. This thought triggered another one about his parents and he suddenly thought about how lucky Charlotte was - the Order had been right. Not knowing was a good thing. Ignorance was bliss. Charlotte was so damn lucky, he was suddenly feeling angry at her again. Angry that he was the one to recieve such news, that she never gave him clear signals on whether she wanted something more than friendship, that she wasn't the one suffering right now, that she - Oh, her lips are soft...

Charlotte felt a rush of relief when she felt him respond to the kiss. When she pulled away and he looked at her, she felt an even greater relief at seeing that his eyes were no longer red. His eyes just looked dark again and his pupils were visibly smaller. She didn't have time to dwell on this before he pulled her into his arms and started kissing her again. After a few moments of getting personally aquainted with her lips, he moved his licks across her cheek, along her ear and into the side of her head, where he buried his face in her chestnut hair as she burrowed in forehead in the crook of his neck.

"You aren't a mistake," Tom heard Charlotte murmur. "Nothing about you is a mistake."

Tom smiled a little. "Oh?"

Charlotte laughed softly here and pulled away a little to look up at him before gently poking him in the chest. "You know I'm a perfectionist. I just don't do mistakes." She gave him a quick kiss against his lips again, but was stopped from anything else by a gentle rapping at the door.

Tom looked down curiously at Charlotte, whose eyes had widened. Realization dawned on him too as she glanced around the room. "One second!" he called. Splitting up, they both started levitating and cleaning items up off the floor, putting them away in their proper places as best as they could. The rapping sounded again, this time more impatient.

"Just go open it a crack," Charlotte said. "I'll finish up here."

Nodding, Tom walked to the door and opened it a little. At first, he didn't see anything, but then his eyes fell on a small, brown owl which was standing in front of the door, looking indignantly up at him. "It's an owl," Tom announced, opening the door some more, wondering exactly how he could tell such a look on an animal's face.

The owl flew in and perched on Tom's desk, which Charlotte had just thrown back together. Tom undid the piece of parchment that was around its leg and the owl took off. He straightened it, his heart immediately starting to hammer as he started reading.

There's an old chestnut tree with a snapped branch near the Whomping Willow. Be there at 6:45pm sharp. Tell anyone about this letter or be one second late and you can consider yourself motherless.

It was 6:32. Fuck.

"You can't go!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"I have to! My mother - "

"What if it's a trap?" Charlotte pleaded.

Tom was silent for a second. "I know this is incredibly stupid, but what other choice do I have?"

Charlotte turned her eyes back to the letter. "I'm coming with you."

"No, you are not!"

"Am so!" Charlotte retorted, eyes snapping back to his.

Tom conceded - just a little though. There was no arguing with Charlotte sometimes, and he knew a lost cause when he saw one. "Fine, but - you stay hidden. Don't come out, no matter what happens. If anything goes wrong, you can run for help."

"And leave you?!"

"What else could you do?! If something happens to me, something'll happen to you, as well, if they find you," Tom reasoned.

Charlotte sighed. "Fine."

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Tom walked along nervously, glancing this way and that way for Charlotte. She was under the disillusionment charm, so he couldn't see her, but once in a while, he thought he saw a glimmer here, a few grasses bending under nothing there... But maybe it was just his imagination. The sun was just setting and the long shadows made it even harder for him to see. For a few seconds, he played with the idea of casting a lumos, but he decided that he didn't want to risk being seen from the castle or risking the light bouncing off Charlotte. Both situations were highly unlikely - however, either or both could still happen.

As he neared the chestnut tree, Tom could make out a figure standing there. He drew closer, and saw that the man was wearing long black robes, but his black hood and the shadows it caused covered his face.

Tom stopped a few meters away and stared at him, feeling a bit of adrenaline start to rush through him.

"Mr. Riddle." The man said in greeting.

"Who are you?" Tom asked.

The man didn't reply, only cocked his head a little. "Can you not see me?"

Tom narrowed his eyes. "No. Show yourself."

"I can not."

"Why?"

"I do not have a wand. Use yours. Use lumos."

Tom lifted his wand before raising an eyebrow. "Why don't you?"

"I am not capable of using one."

"Why?"

The man let out a noise that sounded angry and impatient. "Will you stand there and question me all night or will you help in saving your mother?"

That did it.

Tom raised his wand. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he heard Charlotte yell 'no' as he murmured 'lumos.' As soon as he did, he was thrown back to the cold ground by a curse by the mysterious man in black. For a few seconds, Tom felt like he couldn't breathe and his vision grew blurry. He was vaguely aware of the stranger walking up to him, his hood having fallen back to reveal shoulder length black hair and a silver skeletal mask over his face.

But for one second, Tom's vision cleared and before he slipped into blackness, he focussed on this man's eyes and a feeling of familiarity washed over him as he thought of the blackest, glittering onyx.

"Charlotte..."

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Snape looked down at the Dark Lord's son and briefly wondered where the name Charlotte had come from before a number of victorious cheers resounded behind him.

MacNair appeared beside him. "It looks like your plan worked," he remarked.

Snape smirked. "Of course it did."

MacNair smirked. "Terribly sorry I ever doubted you. It just seemed that luring the boy out and coaxing him into casting a spell at the Kardrik Wall to bring it down... Seemed a little too simple."

"And now you know better," Snape responded. "I have to take him to the second floor girls' bathroom. You all know your orders."

"Of course, of course. Just be quick about it. We want you to take part in the fun," MacNair said, making his way to the castle.

Snape simply nodded once and, allowing himself a small smirk, levitated the boy off the ground before making his way to the castle.

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When Tom awoke, he thought at first that he was quite comfortable. He was laying against something soft, and the hand was running through his hair was soothing and familiar. There was vibrant red infront of his right eye, and for a second he thought his eye was bleeding before he realized it was hair. "Mum!"

"Hush," Ginny whispered, quietly. "It's okay. Calm down." Despite her words, her voice was shaking and her eyes were watery.

"Mum, you were kidnapped! I - I - "

"I know, I know," Ginny murmured. She pulled him into her arms and Tom buried his face into the red of her hair and the dark forest green of her robes as he realized how glad he was that she was okay. "I'm so sorry..."

Tom looked up at her. "What for?" When she didn't respond, he looked around. They were on the stone floor of a huge room. "Where are we?" he asked quietly. Still she didn't respond. "Mum, what's happening?!"

"She won't tell you."

Tom looked up, vaguely aware of his mother clutching him closer to her, as he met the eyes of the man who had just appeared a few meters away from them. He started a little. Though he seemed older, this man looked just like him.

"She doesn't know. Do you, Ginevra?"

Ginny was now quivering, and Tom didn't say anything, but her arms around him were tight enough to hurt him a little. "Don't do this," she whispered.

Tom didn't need to ask who this man was. It was painfully obvious. "Mum?" he ventured, though he was looking at Voldemort.

"Your father."

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Creatress - Once again, soooooooooo sorry!! Uni just started - I'm overwhelmed, seriously!!! (sigh) But don't worry, I promise to get the next chapter out within two weeks!! I swear!