Fear No Evil
Disclaimer- Please refer to previous chapters.
Chapter Two
Now he's rollin' down the highway
Gone too far too fast
No one will ever find him, he'll never look back -Lynyrd Skynyrd
They trudged on through the dirt as the coldness of the evening was beginning to set in. It was so unconceivable, so strange that they were simply walking together to nowhere that Ginny decided that it made sense. She stole a glance at her companion; he needed her, even if she was the only one aware of it.
Looking at his hard determined stare filled her with pity and an overwhelming sympathy. Poor Harry, to have everyone believe that you were dead, thinking that no one cared. She had always cared, and she would make sure that he knew it. Everyone needed to be loved, he would be no exception. With her love filling him, it would in turn fill her of the void that had consumed her.
Feeling brave she placed a hand on his lower arm, "I'm so sorry for what happened to you Harry."
He smirked at her in a way that unnerved her completely. "I'm sure that you are."
"You know," she continued despite his obvious amusement at her expense, "you've always had people who have loved you. Even when we thought that you were…you know, we still thought of you all the time." She lowered her voice as if there were eavesdroppers about, "I thought about you all the time."
He gave her a patronizing look, "did you, Ginny? Did you really think about me all the time?" She nodded. "Did you continue to be 'in love' with me, even after you presumed I was dead? I can see that you did. Funny though, I always assumed that one day you would grow up, grow out of that."
She cast her eyes down towards the ground, embarrassed and easily broken of her sympathetic nature. "There was a time when you were in love with me too."
"No one is ever loved the way that they want to be loved, Ginny." It was going to be necessary to rid her of her periodic bravery that allowed her to make such absurd comments as that.
She closed her eyes tightly in pain; he never used to say things like that to her. "Why am I here?" She asked, exasperated, "if you hate me so much just let me go on my way then."
He could have sugarcoated it for her, he could have explained patiently that he could not run the risk of anyone else discovering he was alive; but that would take away the demented fun of it all. "I'm going to fight Voldemort." She looked at him expectantly. He shrugged nonchalantly, "you're bait."
"Bait," she repeated softly, all blood leaving her face. As complete horrible comprehension dawned upon her she found that her feet had planted themselves firmly in the ground. "You…you can't make me. Please Harry, don't make me."
His eyes were drawn to her hands, they were shaking horribly. He felt a twinge of curiosity, now just what had happened to little Virginia while he was gone? She hadn't been afraid of Voldemort after the Chamber, now the mention of him sent her into hysterics. Interesting…
"Harry," she called out meekly, "could we stop and rest for a while?"
He gave her a curt nod, too deep in thought to realize his irritation at stopping while it was safely dark.
She sat on the ground with her legs hugging against her chest, attempting to rid herself of the cold that she felt so strongly. She had seen the look that he had gotten after he saw her reaction. He found her weak, even more so now. She wasn't weak though, and she felt a strange desire to show this to him.
"You know Harry, I feel like I owe you an explanation for before, you see-"
"It doesn't matter," he cut her off abruptly, "I don't care." Which was a slight lie, he would like to know, but he refused to show it. Curiosity could be easily exploited, he wouldn't allow that.
Taking his hint she remained in silence. He allowed fifteen merciful minutes to pass before getting up from the ground. "It's time to go."
"We've been at it all day," she mumbled in annoyance, "don't you believe in sleep?"
"I sleep during the day and travel at night."
"But," she protested, "we walked through the day."
He shrugged, "then you'll sleep tomorrow."
His indifference and complete lack of compassion stung her. She searched within herself for sympathy, but fell short; he was getting to her and her understanding characteristics.
"Well what about food," she pushed, "do you believe in eating?"
"Of course," he scoffed, "I'm not a fool. You can go days without food, Virginia; we are going to exercise this practice. I'll even start you off slow, you can eat tomorrow just before sunset."
Her stomach growled in protest, but she said nothing. Hitler was less of a slave driver than this new evil Harry.
With no more battles to fight about food, sleep, and resting she was forced to remember his threat to her. She was his intended bait for Voldemort. While she longed to be free of the effect that Voldemort held on her, she knew she couldn't. Too much of her blood stained his hands. He was a monster, and she was helpless around him. If Harry carried out and used her as his bait, she was dead. They would take her back to him and…it was too horrible to even consider.
She glanced at Harry, he wouldn't really do that to her. At least, she didn't think that he would. She knew that the old Harry was still buried in there, and he would never sacrifice her to Voldemort. Would he?
Desperate to find out she found her bravery once more. "You aren't really going to use me as bait are you?"
"Would they really want you?"
"No," she answered quickly, hoping this would be her salvation from this horrid possibility.
He gave her a calculating glance, "if you manage to earn your keep and don't slow me down, I'll consider not using you to further my plans for Voldemort."
Her mouth nearly dropped at this absurd "generosity." He'd consider it? Despite her fears and her newfound meekness, she still had the underlying Weasley pride. Her old stubbornness fought its way to the surface; she simply wouldn't allow it to come to him having the option to use her as bait.
Rebellious notions swam through her mind; there was a time when she could manipulate with the best of them. Harry may be unreadable and stronger now, but she had always been better at this game than he. If he wouldn't let her go then she would make his life hell.
He had told her that if she didn't do as he pleased he would kill her. She decided that he wouldn't. He obviously needed her for something if he was forcing her along. Besides, she knew that underneath his hate he still had to care for her. You don't go from absolute love to indifference. Something was there, something still burned inside of him for her. She would bring it out, and then she would escape with her pride in tow. He wouldn't break her, and if he tried again, she would break him.
A fighter lay under her timid nature, and continuing provocation would shed her of her submissive ways.
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A/N-"No one is ever loved the way they want to be loved." Is a quote that is shamelessly stolen by me from…Shakespeare, I believe? Horrible, isn't it, I can't remember my own quotes. If I'm wrong feel free to correct me. Thank you again for your wonderful reviews and encouragement, it is appreciated immensely.
Also, if Ginny seems slightly moody or schizophrenic to you, she's supposed to be. Explanations come later, for now, just bask in the weirdness of it all.