10. Finite Incantatem/Relieve

The door burst open for the first time in more days than she could count. Tom strode in, looking furious. "Ginevra."

Ginny looked up into his face and let her mouth break into a lopsided grin. He gasped. "Ginevra," he repeated. She gestured to her throat.

I can't talk anymore. But I'm glad to see you. I may be in love with you.

"Finite incantatem," he said hurriedly, and she felt something unclench from around her vocal chords.

"Hullo," she said hoarsely. She had to squint against the light flooding in through the doorway. "Am I done being punished now?" Her throat felt rusty from weeks of disuse. "I'm sorry for whatever I did. I won't do it again. I promise."

Seeing the discomfort it was causing her to have the door open, he closed it and went to sit on the floor beside her. "Sweetheart," he breathed, pulling her against him. She furrowed her brow. He'd never called her Sweetheart.

"I knew you were real," she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

"Ginny, Ginny, shh, don't talk." He pulled her tighter for a moment, then held her at arm's length and looked into her eyes, examining her carefully. "Are you okay? Do you feel ill?"

She shook her head.

"Are you sure."

"I'm sure."

"Nothing hurts?"

"No. Tom, I wish I'd known you were coming. I would have washed my hands."

He looked down at her mangled hand and gasped. "Shit, Ginny."

"I know." She cradled her hand against her chest. "I'll just go wash it. I won't be a minute." She stood up and stumbled to the bathroom. He caught her around the waist and pulled her back, setting her down on her unmade bed.

"No, Gin, let me see." He held her hand delicately. "How did this happen?"

"I hit a girl."

"You hit a girl?" He looked confused. "What girl?"

"The girl in the mirror. She's quite insolent. She deserved it."

Tom almost smirked. "Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes. I can fix it though." She ripped open a scab on her knuckle and let the wound ooze blood, soaking her skin. Then she pressed her mouth down to her hand, scraping the wound open with her teeth. Lips stained with blood, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "Much better."

He set her hand carefully in her lap and pulled her into his arms again. "Ginny," he began, and then changed his mind. "What else have you been up to?"

She thought for a moment. "I make towers." She gestured vaguely at the rolls on the floor. "And I look out the window and wait for you."

"For me?"

"Yes. I've been waiting for you to let me come out."

He pressed a kiss into the top of her head. "Sweetheart," he murmured.

"I was waiting and waiting," she continued dreamily. "And I thought you must be very angry with me, to lock me up for so long." She looked up at him. "Were you very angry?"

"No." He readjusted his grip on her. "I didn't know you were in here, Gin. I've been away, in Denmark, for three months. I just got back last night."

"You didn't lock my door?"

"No, sweetheart, no. It wasn't me, it wasn't me." He was rocking her back and forth. He had her wrapped up in his arms like an infant, lulling her with his voice.

"Oh." She let him hold her for awhile. "I need to go wash my hands now," she said suddenly, squirming in his embrace. He held her tightly.

"Ginny, your hand is a mess. You see that, right?"

She nodded. "I'll get off the blood for you, then you'll see I'm alright."

"No, love, no." He helped her stand. "Come with me. We're getting out of this room."

"Let me wash my hands first."

"No. You can wash them when we get to my chambers."

"I get to see your chambers?"

"Yes. You're going to stay there with me for a little while. Until I can be sure you're safe."

She drew back. "But you hate me."

"I don't hate you." He guided her to the door and out into the hallway. It was deserted.

"You said you hated me," she accused, swaying slightly on the spot. The months of so little food were beginning to catch up to her.

"I was wrong."

"I hate you?" It came out like a question.

He helped her down the stairs. "No need to be rude."

"I . . . I . . . I feel sick, Tom," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. He made a little moan in sympathy and put an arm around her shoulders. "I think I went mad in there," she confessed.

"I'll make it better," he promised softly.

Her hand was beginning to hurt, and she told him so. They were almost to his chambers.

"I'll fix it, love, I'll fix it." He picked up the knocker and let it fall. The snake shuddered to life. "Passssssword?" it asked.

Tom glanced into Ginny's eyes once before answering in a hiss of parseltongue. She nearly gasped as she recognized the pattern of sounds. He didn't know she could speak parseltongue too, didn't realize that when he'd possessed her she'd absorbed some of his talents.

The password was her name.

"Come," he was saying now, half-carrying her to the large bed in the center of the room. "Lie down. Let me see your hand."

Obediently, she extended her arm so he could examine it.

"The bones in your hand have healed all wrong," he decided finally. "We have to break them all over again and set them correctly." He looked at her. "It means more pain. Just a little."

She shook her head. "Please, no."

He pressed his lips to her forehead. She wondered why he kept kissing her. "Sweet Ginevra," he murmured. "I'll find you a potion that will numb it all. You won't feel a thing. Is that better?"

She nodded. He ran a hand through her hair, which was both oiled down and wildly frizzy from the months of not washing it. "You need a bath," he said. "A nice hot bath, while I brew the potion for you. Does that sound good?"

"Yes."

"Do you want me to stay for that? Do you need any help?"

"I can do it." The thought of him watching her bathe was horrifying.

"I won't leave the chamber, Ginny, but I'll close the bathroom door. If you need anything, I'm here. I'm right here." He bent down to kiss her forehead again. "I will not leave you again."

She smiled wanly and made her way into the bathroom. The tub was already filled with enchanted water that never cooled down. As she undressed, she caught sight of her emaciated body in the mirror and gasped. Every rib in her torso stuck out; her stomach was sunken in. She looked like a corpse, a walking skeleton. Trembling, she dipped a toe into the tub, then stepped all the way inside. Unpoppable bubbles brewed around her.

"Tom?" she called. He cracked open the door and poked his head in. "D'you have - y'know, shampoo?"

Realizing her body was covered by the bubbles, he came into the bathroom and walked over to a cabinet. "Here," he said, offering her a bottle. "Your hand - do you want help with this part?"

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain. "Yeah."

He filled his hands with shampoo and dumped it unceremoniously on Ginny's head, rubbing it in careful circles into her scalp. She tried to pretend it was Mum shampooing her. "Duck underwater," Tom ordered after a few minutes. She obeyed.

"You have to do it again," she said as he made to put the bottle away. "You have to do it twice. Or it won't get clean."

Sighing, he repeated his circular massaging until her hair was no longer oily. "Can you manage now?" he asked, dipping his hands in her bath water to wash the suds from them. The back of his hand brushed her naked shoulder for an instant. Even in the hot water, she shivered.

"Yes."

"Good. Call me if you need anything." He left, and she began to awkwardly scrub at her body with her left hand, leaving the right one to dangle uselessly outside the tub. When she was ready to get out, she wrapped herself in one of his large towels and padded back into his bedroom.

"D'you have a robe or something?" she asked timidly. He nodded and guided her back into the bathroom, then left her to change. When she was presentable, she stepped back into his chamber. "Is the potion ready?"

"Nearly." He poured a blue mixture into a goblet and set it before her. "Drink this once it's cooled down." He pulled out his want and muttered, "Ventus." She was nearly blown over by a blast of hot air that dried her from head to toe.

"Thanks," she mumbled, dipping her pinky into the goblet to test the potion. "It's cool." She raised the chalice to her lips and gulped the potion quickly. Immediately she began to feel fizzy.

"Is it working?"

"Yeah."

He touched her right elbow. "Can you feel this?"

"No."

He sat her down on the bed. "Look away, Ginny."

Ginny didn't feel him breaking her fingers, but she heard the sound of snapping bone and it made her wince. Tom repaired the bones with a flick of his wand.

"Are you finished?" She couldn't bear to look.

"Yes." Tom sounded sad. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

"It wasn't your fault." Now that she was clean, Ginny was feeling much more like her old self. She flexed her hand experimentally.

"As soon as I find out who locked you in there, I swear I'll make them suffer."

"It was Malfoy," Ginny said quietly, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around herself. The red comforter beneath her was warm and inviting; in spite of doing nothing for three months she was exhausted, and she wondered whether she'd be allowed to sleep on this bed. "I'm sleeping in this room, right?"

"You don't have to go back to your old room, no."

She began to play with her toes. The feeling was coming back into her body. "Why do you care about me so much?" she asked in spite of herself.

"You are very important to me."

"As bait, right?"

"No, Gin."

"Liar."

He didn't say anything for a moment. "Do you know why I came back from Denmark today?"

"Why?"

"I came to check on you."

Ginny didn't say anything.

"I had a feeling something was wrong. Clearly my instincts were right. I'm going back tonight. I'm not leaving you here alone this time. I want you to come with me. I want you safe."

She spoke up. "You want me to come to Denmark."

"Yes."

"I'm not going. I told you before, and my answer hasn't changed."

"Ginevra," he began tiredly, but she cut him off.

"When I arrived here," she said in a low voice, "You swore that I was under your protection. You said no harm would come to me. You said you wouldn't let them - you promised me you wouldn't let them - " She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't. She wasn't. "And then Malfoy set his snake on me. And he locked me up for three months. I went mad. You've broken all your promises, forgive me for wanting to stay as far away from you as possible." She sat up and made to leave his bed. He stopped her, holding her down by the shoulders.

"Don't you touch me." The memories of the three months in her room were coming back to her. The pains, the tears, the descent into madness. He'd promised. He'd promised.

"I am not at fault here," he whispered. "It is you who was foolish enough to believe in a promise."

"Yes, you're right, I'm a fool. I actually thought there was an ounce of human left in you, but I guess I was a bloody idiot for believing in goodness." She reached out her hand and made to slap him; he caught her wrist just in time.

He slid his fingers between hers, interlocking their hands. "Malfoy will pay for what he's done to you."

"Oh, really? Will he really? Well, that just makes it all better then, doesn't it?"

"Come with me to Denmark," he insisted. "Once we're away from this house, things will be better."

"Away from this house? Away from this bloody house? That's what I've wanted ever since I arrived!" she screamed.

"And now you're getting it, so don't complain."

She struggled wildly to maneuver herself out of his grasp. He pushed her back against the pillows, fingers closed tightly around her wrists, locking her arms above her head. "Just calm down," he said. "Take some deep breaths."

She did, going limp against the pillows and letting her eyes slip shut. "I'm tired," she admitted with a noise that could have been a laugh or a sob. "I don't want to do this anymore. Please just let me be done." She wasn't begging. She was too exhausted to plead with him anymore.

"Ginevra."

"I won't tell anyone where you are. You can modify my memory if you want. Just let me be done."

"You know I can't do that."

"I want my mum," she whispered, tears squeezing out of her eyes.

"Don't cry."

"I'm tired of not crying."

"We'll go to Denmark, and everything will be fine."

"I don't want to go anywhere."

"You're not staying here with Malfoy around."

"Let me go home then."

"You're safer with me than anywhere else in the world."

"I'm safer when I'm nowhere near you."

"I prom - "

"Don't promise me anything."

"Ginevra." He let go of her wrists and used a finger to catch the tears sliding down her cheeks. The other hand laced its fingers through hers. "I promise he will never touch you again. None of them will."

"You've promised things before."

"Open your eyes," he whispered, pulling her into a sitting position. "Look."

She did; a fiery snake had wound its way around her arm, binding her hand to his. She almost screamed, thinking it was Malfoy's venomous snake, back for more, but then she realized what he was doing. She tried to pull her hand away. "N - "

"I swear none of my Death Eaters will ever lay a finger or wand on you again," he whispered. The snake tightened itself around their wrists, and then evaporated into ashes. "Believe me now?"

She stared. "An Unbreakable Vow?"

"Yes."

"You can't take that back."

"I know."

"You're . . . you're serious. You're actually keeping your word on this."

He cracked a smile. "Come with me to Denmark?"

"I thought you hated me," she whispered. "Why all this effort if you hate me? Why not just kill me and be done with it?"

He looked at her thoughtfully, absently stroking his thumb across hers. "There's something about you, Ginevra Weasley," he said finally. "You're a lot like I was at your age. Rebellious. Won't take no for an answer. Able to charm people into giving you everything you want. I . . . admire it."

Chills ran down her spine. "It's not true," she managed after a moment. "I'm nothing like you."

"Ahh, but you are."

She felt tears swimming behind her eyes. "Why won't you let me go?"

He cupped her cheek in his hand. "Is it really so bad here?"

"Yes."

"How about this, then. You cooperate in Denmark, and when we come back, you're free to go."

She didn't let herself hope. "You're lying."

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"Make another Unbreakable Vow."

A lazy smile floated across his lips. "Now, Ginevra. Too many Unbreakables aren't healthy. You'll have to take my word for it."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you don't want to stay here with Malfoy, do you?"

Just hearing the name made her shudder. "Malfoy can't touch me. You Vowed."

"If Malfoy touches you, I will die," Tom countered. "And the vow will be broken, so Malfoy will be able to do anything he wants, and I won't be around to stop him." He tangled his fingers in her hair. "So you see, sweet Ginny, you need me."

Her throat grew tight as she realized the trap she'd fallen into. "What do you want with me, Tom Riddle?"

"I want you to be happy."

"Then let me g - "

"But I want you to be happy on my terms. The world is a dark place, Gin. It's not safe out there. The safest place you can be in times like these is with a man who can protect you." He looked deep into her eyes. "I will protect you in every way I know how."

Ginny swallowed. "I want to sleep," she whispered hoarsely.

Tom shook his head. "We have to go. You can sleep when we get to Denmark."

She gave in. "How are we getting there?"

"Floo powder."

She groaned and stood up. He followed suit, taking her by the hand and leading her to his large fireplace. "I'll go first. Wait a few minutes before you follow. Don't jump out of the fireplace until you see me. And in case you try to run . . . " He aimed his wand at the door and muttered an incantation that made the lock click shut. "I've enchanted it so alohamora won't work," he explained. "No one can get into or out of this room by way of the door." He stepped into the fireplace. "Madam Frieda's Inn," he announced, tossing a handful of Floo powder at his feet. An explosion of green smoke engulfed his body, and then he was gone.