Authors Note:
Ginny is a bit OOC but I like her that way. Also, about the question can Gin
only see Voldie as Tom? Well, that will be cleared up later in the story. Yes,
there's no distinct plot line as of yet, but it does have one I assure you. The
beginning and end are all finished, and the middle is mainly done, just got to
get it down on the comp. Ok, so read on…. Sorry if the POV switch is confusing…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~PS: Disclaimer, I
don't own anything HP.
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Harry sat there in his flat looking over the photographs time and time again. It killed him; he had thought Cho had loved him. Then he saw the photos, her with arms wrapped around him, him kissing her passionately, them asleep together in bed. He wondered how Ginny had managed to get all these, but even those wonderings couldn't shake off the feelings of anger and hurt that plagued him. Feeling fury rise within him, Harry crumpled one of the pictures in his hands and then threw it harshly against the coffee table. He wondered if that, that slut was with her lover at the moment. What would he say to her when she returned home? Should he give her a chance to defend her self? The pictures pretty much summed up every thing he needed to know. Flinging his wand around carelessly, Harry cleaned up the piles of garbage in a mad rush then made for the bedroom. There was no way in hell Cho would be staying there anymore…
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"Harry darling, I'm home!" a female voice called out to the
dark room. Muttering some choice words, and with a flick of her wand, Cho Chang
managed to light up the room. It was unusually tidy, and her trunk sat in the
middle of it, articles of clothing and other personal effects thrown in wildly.
A rush of angry feet sounded as Harry came out of the bedroom. His face was
read and shaking in fury. Cho looked to the trunk and to Harry and was
completely bewildered.
"Harry, what is the matter?" she said in genuine shock. Her eyes glazed over a
big orange envelope, but she thought nothing of it at the moment.
"Why don't you tell me you slut!" his rage was let loose. As he shouted this at
her, her eyes narrowed in offense.
"How – fucking – dare you!" She screamed back, "You have no fucking right to
call me that!!" He guffawed at her in half amusement half anger. Frantically,
almost desperately, he began to wave the big envelope in her face.
"Then fucking explain these! I'm sure it's QUITE by accident you happened to
have another mans dick to play with!" he threw the envelope quite harshly at
her feet, and then stood tapping his heel, waiting for her to see the contents.
The dark eyes that stood out against her pale face widened even more as she
scanned the photos in the envelope. Only a slight twitch of her face gave away
any emotion, other then shock, that she was feeling.
"Where did you get these?" she barely whispered.
"So you don't deny them, you, you BITCH! How could you?!" Trembling and
dripping with animosity, Harry kicked her trunk, which did nothing to help
except give him a throbbing toe ache.
"I'll get my stuff…" Cho wouldn't look him in the eye. Instead, she hurried
towards the bedroom to collect the rest of her things.
"I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU!! What was I to you, a fucking safeguard? Someone you
could have to fall back on?? Go be with your fucking lover, just get out of my
house NOW!!" Harry's face was drained of all colour as he yelled at the
retreating Cho. Cho said nothing, she just gathered up her things and headed
towards the door.
"I'm sorry," she murmured in goodbye.
"Get the fucking hell out!!" and then she was gone. A moment later, Harry
stormed out of the flat and into the cold night air. What he needed now was a
drink…
A shaken
Harry walked into the famous Leaky Cauldron almost drunk with anger. Looking
around, he thought he saw the head of his archenemy leave with a drunken red
head, but he allowed that he had just imagined it. Slamming himself down into
an empty stool, Harry ordered a drink gruffly and brought it abruptly to his
lips. The taste of alcohol burning down his throat caused some of the pain to
ebb away, but most of it stayed, along with a bitter want for revenge. After a
few drinks, the pain ebbed away, and all his thoughts drifted far from Cho. His
curiosity had been invoked, however, when he saw Malfoy leaving with a familiar
looking woman.
"Tom," Harry asked a little blearily.
"Yeh?" said a toothy inn keeper.
"Who wassit that leftwith Malfoy jussnow?" his words were slurring, but he
didn't care.
"Why that was young Miss Weasley, I thought you'd be able to recognize 'er o'
all people," Tom looked at the increasingly pissed Harry. He gave a bit of a
toothy grin, and made to leave, but had second thoughts, so stayed instead. In
a bit of a whisper, he told Harry something he must have considered either
quite a scandal, or quite a secret.
"They were both royally pissed you know, and I wouldn't be surprised at all if
they were off somewhere going at-" Harry banged his glass down rather loudly at
this. The action caused Tom to shut up and busy himself suddenly with a glass
that had already been cleaned about 5 times.
"How drunk wasshe?" Harry asked.
"Well, she came in 'ere with a bad temper," Tom said all this with great
importance as if the government were questioning him about something terribly
important.
"And then she drank 'bout 7 o' these filled to the brim with fire whiskey.
After that I wouldn't give 'er any more cos' she was already in a right state…
As for that Malfoy fella, well 'e made sure to only have a few light drinks,
but 'e looked slightly thrashed when 'ey left…" Harry grimaced at the thought
of this. Sure Ginny wasn't his girlfriend, or anything for then a friend
really, but over the last two years, the sexual tension between them had been
growing. Despite that, Harry insisted he was in love with Cho, so the two had
never acted on their "feelings." True there was the occasional footsie game, or
suggestive comments and looks, and some quite by accident gropes, but
otherwise, it was strictly platonic between the two. However, Harry couldn't
help but feel jealous whenever he saw Ginny with a boyfriend. This only
increased her anger at him, seeing as he wouldn't be with her himself, but
merely insisted that she stayed single. Harry didn't quite know what he felt
towards Ginny. He knew she was his friend, and that she was quite attractive,
but as to being with her? He just wasn't sure… Besides, he loved Cho, or he so
he thought.
Plunking some random coins down on the bar, Harry took his leave of the Pub, not really caring to wake up in some stranger's bed the next morning with a throbbing hangover. A bit unsteadily, Harry made his way out of the London side exit, and into the cold night air. It was July, but something about the weather, or perhaps his mood, made it seem unusually chilly. He remembered Ginny and Malfoy and wondered with a scowl what in gods name they could be doing. Shaking his head furiously, Harry walked towards his flat, trying to forget the incidents of this horrible night. It had been one hell of a birthday that was for sure…
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Harry woke the next morning with a slight hangover. True he had been drunk last night, but he had been worse for wear before. Getting groggily out of bed, Harry made his way to the semi tidy kitchen. Some pictures lay spewed on the counter, reminding him of what he had, or rather Ginny had, caught Cho in. Suddenly very angry at those pictures, Harry tossed them in the lingering fire. Just as they were setting aflame in the hearth, a head popped in by way of floo. It was Mrs. Weasley.
"Harry!" she squeaked. Harry, who hadn't yet noticed the
head sitting in the flames, jumped at the sound of her voice.
"Blimey, you scared the bajesus out of me. What's up Molly?" Harry said while
trying to calm his racing heart.
"Have you, by any chance, seen Ginny?" her voice sounded with concern and
anxiety. Harry thought back to the bar last night, but he couldn't quite
remember if seeing Ginny there was a dream, or perhaps reality.
"No… I don't think I have, why's that?" a concentrating scowl came over his
face as he tried very hard to remember his drunken conversation last night.
"Well, she didn't come home last night, and she was last to leave your place, I
am of course assuming she left last night, and so I thought you might have an
inkling as to where she'd be…" Mrs. Weasley rambled on and on in a worried
mothers voice.
"I'm not quite sure, but yes, she did in fact leave last night." He was rubbing
his throbbing temples now, trying to remember.
"Look, I'll send word if I figure anything out," Harry said, abruptly cutting
off another of Mrs. Weasley's worried spiels. With a grateful nod and some
parting words, Mrs. Weasley left the fire with a vague pop. Harry shook his
head in a half confused half angry way and headed towards the shower. What he
needed was a warm shower to ease his troubled thoughts…
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Months later….
(Gin's POV)
I woke up with a burning headache. 'Another damn hangover,' I thought. Feeling
the bed beside me, I hoped that there would be a body beside my own. Sure
enough, Tom was there. These were the only moments of true happiness I ever
found in this god-forsaken place. It was when he was asleep and I could just
look at him, touch him, and not have to fear his wrath. He had made quite clear
to me before that there would never be anything between us, his explanation for
this being that I was merely there to ease his sexual frustrations. In other
words, I was his whore. Not exactly a comforting thought, but it kept me alive.
I mean, how many times to you survive being controlled by You-know-Who, and
then live to tell you shared a bed with him? Perhaps he would dispose of me
when I grew ugly, or if I angered him. Those two thoughts kept me constantly
aware. If he really would get rid of me like that I would do everything in my
power to make sure I stayed attractive and that I did anything possible to
please him. Why such a sudden change in loyalties? Well, it wasn't that sudden.
If my calculations were correct I had been there a matter of months, perhaps 6
at the most. A lot can happen in 6 months. For one, people can realize that the
path of "righteousness" isn't for everyone. It wasn't for me. No matter how
attached I had been to my good girl, fight for right self, there would be no
turning back. When introduced to evil, I had been injected with the sweetest
poison of them all. Self indulgence. Sure I knew what I was doing was wrong,
but I loved it. Oh the exhilarating feeling of breaking the rules… Now I knew
why Fred and George were troublemakers, but they had only gotten a nibble of
the kind of power I was feeling. The only thing missing was a tattoo on my
forearm. I wanted to feel it burn into my flesh, I wanted the pain of it, and I
wanted to be accepted.
As Tom began to squirm awake, I pulled away slightly. I'm
sure that my clinginess would probably send him into another selfish outrage.
If there were one thing he hated more then disloyalty, it was love. If I had to
grow into a cold-hearted bitch to stay alive, and to keep Tom in my bed, I
would do just that. Pathetic obsession you say? Maybe, but there have been
worse things…
For example you ask? My ridiculous obsession with Harry Potter, that's what
I'll tell you. You say, "Yes but the dark lord?" I say, yes the fecking dark
lord, he's got a shit load of more sense then Harry Thickhead Potter. Bitter
you ask? Yes. Very bitter, but victorious. If Harry could see me now, I'm sure
that my little friend jealousy would pay him a well due visit. And guess what I
would do if Harry came running after me trying to sway me off the road that
will lead to destruction. (Not that he would come running mind you,) but if he
did, I'd laugh my arse off and tell him to go back to Cho. What a pushover that
guy is. Anyway, back to Tom and me.
You ask me why I call him Tom? Well it'd be more proper to call him Sir or the
Dark Lord or… Voldemort… even, but you see, Tom and I have a connection I
guess. When we're fucking (I would say making love, 'cept he hates me) he
allows me to call him Tom, but otherwise he's master to me. He will always be
Tom to me; no amount of time can change that. Every night that he is with me he
tells me, "Virginia, your time is coming soon," and I tell him in my
obedient way, "I know I deserve whatever I receive…" He just smirks as
if to say "Glad you can accept fate." It would be depressing, that is,
if I weren't already depressed. I think, and this may be blasphemous to Tom,
but I think even he knows his power is not going to last. I mean, come on now,
look at the way it's all ended in other stories. Good always triumphs. Well, if
evil and power have to die, then Tom will be there to make sure it goes out with
a bang. As to where I'll be, I can't tell as of now. There is no certainty in
the future; only the painful knowledge of knowing your dreams may never come
true. I've learned that and other things in my time here. Where we are, I am
not quite sure. I do know this however, I am safe for the time being, and
that's all that matters in an unstable world.
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As things progressed with my "initiation" into Tom's world, I began to see the faces behind the masks. I don't think Tom ever fully trusted me, but seeing as he could practically read minds, he would know if I were on the verge of betrayal. I would not think, not at the time, of ever betraying Tom. How could I? I was bewitched, enchanted, ensnared, stuck. Loyalty ran through the blood of all the Death Eaters, even those who weren't bewitched or thought they were. Once you had that searing pain on your forearm you were bound, by some sick force, to him forever. The two Death Eaters I met first were Peter Pettigrew and Severus Snape. Now of course, seeing as I had known since my childhood that Severus was a spy, I should of, or could of said something. Something, however, some unseen force kept me from giving way to his secret. I don't understand why. I craved intimacy and trust from Tom, and giving Severus up would have sealed that partly.
One day,
over a late supper in my quarters, Tom came in earlier then usual. Upon seeing
him enter, I got up abruptly and went to his side. I assumed then that he just
wanted some sexual favour, or something of the like. I was wrong, for once he
was there to talk. To simply talk.
"Virginia," he said with a cold smile. His smile enchanted me. It filled me
with a longing to break it into something of warmth and happiness.
"Master," I said while lowering my head. He chuckled at my willing obedience.
"Tonight, you may call me Tom…" my heart filled with glee. Tom, my precious,
cold hearted Tom was allowing me this simple joy.
"Tom," I said shyly. His cold hand cupped my chin and lifted my eyes to his
own. They sparkled with some unknown lie, some unknown desperation.
"You have always been, my dear, the epitome of beauty. Did you know that?"
where was this coming from? What had he done with my Tom? Did he mean these beautiful
words? I shook my head in a harsh and disbelieving no. Curling his lips, he
kissed me gently on my lips. I wasn't beautiful, not anymore atleast. In the
last 5 months I had lost so much weight it was incredible. My bones were
visible beneath my skin and I had lost almost all colour.
"You are beautiful to me," he whispered while kissing me again. I broke free.
"Thank you, but…" he laughed.
"You're confused? Don't be. I don't love you, but when I see a prize, I can't
help but give it praise," I was crushed, in a sense. He was attracted to my
body, not me.
"Oh," I said while turning from him. Tom sure knew how to put a damper on my
spirits.
"Do you know why I chose you? Hmm?" chose me for what? What exactly did he
mean.
"I chose you because I knew you didn't belong in their make believe world. You
belonged next to me, in a world that is real." It's harsh though Tom, harsh. As
if reading my mind, he nodded and chuckled slightly.
"Yes, it's harsh, but it's real. You deserve the truth, no matter how much it
hurts." I understand.
"Do you?" Yes Tom, I understand. I was to be his servant of sorts. To do his
bidding. My hands would no longer be clean. Blood would be shed underneath my
grip, I understood now. I was willing however.
"Good." What would you have me do Tom? Where do I begin? Will you accept me
fully? I stuck out my forearm in silent question.
"There is no turning back, ever, after this point. Once I claim you as my own,
you will die before you see the light again." I nodded. Take me. A vicious grin
spread on his face as he grabbed my arm. He traced a few burning fingers over
my translucent skin. Then, it happened. It hurt more then anything I
remembered. White-hot pain flashed throughout my body, rippling from the red
mark flashing on my skin. Within moments a black and irritated mark hung
gloomily on my forearm. My head was spinning and whirling in pain. Then, as
soon as it had started, it ended. My arm was numb, the pain had ceased, and in
its place was a feeling of euphoria. I was officially part of the pack.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Switch of POV)
Severus
Snape rushed down the halls of Hogwarts with much urgency. It had been 6 months
since the mysterious disappearance of the youngest Weasley child. Just last
night he had confirmed the suspicion growing in his mind. She was with
Voldemort. The last one to have seen Ginny Weasley was a barkeep named Tom… how
very ironic. Harry Potter had been questioned also about the whereabouts of
Miss Weasley, seeing as he had seen her also that night. Last night, however,
Snape had felt the burning on his left forearm and had met the newest member of
the dark lords band of followers. Ginny Weasley. He and Pettigrew, the
sniveling rat of a Death Eater, had been the only two present during the
meeting. Voldemort, though being a master at reading minds, had not picked up
on Snape's well-disguised shock when he saw the unmasking of Ginny Weasley.
Knowing full and well whom he must tell about this mistake, Snape knew that
Molly Weasley's worries would not be appeased by this information. In fact, they
would most likely come to a breaking point. While Snape did not know her exact
reasons for being there, he assumed she wasn't a spy. He had overheard rumours
from others in league with the Dark Lord of a red headed whore. It didn't take
long for him to put two and two together. Increasing his pace, Snape glided up
to the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmasters office.
"Fizzing Wizbees!" he practically shouted at the idle stone. At once it leapt
to life granting him entrance into the old mans lair.
"Severus, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Dumbledore asked in his jovial way.
He seemed to have no idea of the unpleasantness of this visit.
"He has the Weasley girl Dumbledore," Snape got straight to the point. The
elder mans eyes lowered in pain a bit. His voice, when he spoke next, was
devoid of all its jolliness.
"I see. We will inform her parents at once…" he got up and conjured a fire.
"That's not all," the potions master cut in. Holding the floo powder in his
hands, Dumbledore paused and looked questioningly at Severus.
"She has received the dark mark. Though she has not given me up to the Dark
Lord, my suspicions tell me she is not on our side…" a deep breath was taken by
the old man.
"I was expecting this…"
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