Note on names: Ginny's name is Ginevra; I call her Virginia (found out too late).
(Q): this means that what is typed is a quote... my blasted asterisks won't show up.
On the ring: I've been looking this over and I realized that her ring said DMGW… it should actually say DMVW. My mistake
Disclaimer: I own nothing, notta, zip.
Forbidden VIII: And Yet Another Plot Uncovered
So, here I am, just chained to a wall in this random dungeon in my fiancé's mansion. Only, don't blame it on him. I honestly don't think he has no idea where the heck I am.
Oh, I'm just feeling the love tonight. There are ropes wrapped around all of my limbs, my neck, and my waist. Hey, everything but the neck is good… Well, it would be if I wasn't pregnant.
Now I know what that fool Voldemort wants to do with my baby. How could I be so crazy to think that when he said, 'I wasn't possession of your baby' that he meant something along the lines of 'Hey! I'm going to raise your rugrat for you!' Well, not like I'd want him to. But noooo, he not only wants possession of my baby, he wants to be my baby… I think someone's had one too many hits with the Harry. (Q)
Ugh. It's been exactly two days since I've seen the light. Well, it might have been two days. See, it's kind of hard to tell when you're in a dungeon. And when they say dungeon, they actually mean dungeon. There's no light, no window, nothing. There's only a door with bars across the window… and that leads into a dark hallway. See what I mean by 'no light?'
Of course, for all I know the wall could be carpeted. I mean, this is a Malfoy mansion. Everything has to look good. It doesn't necessarily have to feel good, but it definitely has to look good. But, knowing them, there'd be blood on the carpets and… let's not go there. That is provoking an extremely nasty mental image, and I don't think I can deal with hurling on the floor right about now.
If only I could reach my wand. But I can't. It's in my pocket right now. Aside from the ropes restraining me, there's nothing holding me back. The ropes are pretty loose, you know.
I bet you all are going, 'what the heck is her problem? If the ropes are loose, why doesn't she just slide or pull out of them or something?' Hah. I wish it were that easy. But of course, when you're dealing with Voldemort, nothing is ever 'that easy.' Every time I pull my arms more than Voldemort or his cronies would deem necessary, every rope around me tightens – especially the ones around my waist and my neck. 'More than necessary' being any movement more than an inch or so.
Where the heck is Draco? I know the boy had a concussion, but Madame Pomfrey took care of that, so it's not like there's really anything holding him back! Bloody git.
…
Oops, I didn't mean that. Honestly, I didn't. Let's just take the time to blame it on crazy mood swings, ok? Ok.
"Would you shut the hell UP in there?" someone called. "I know my master wants you in perfect condition and everything for whatever he's got planned to do with your rugrat and all, but it's only been a few hours… If you don't shut up, I'll bloody fucking kill you myself right now – I don't care if you are pregnant!"
Sheesh, people these days. They can never say that I have some mad mood swing, because this guy is just some kind of crazy nutcase! "Where's the looney bin when you need one?" I muttered, just to spite him.
"Listen, you little heifer-"
"Ah, Rodolphus, how good to see you!" I shuddered. It looks like old Moldy Voldy is back again. "Are you treating the future Mrs. Malfoy with respect?"
I swear that I heard him grumble, "Draco is marrying that?" I growled.
"Hah. As if he knows what respect is," I muttered under my breath.
The door opened and I gasped. Geez, it seems that this… 'man' looks more and more gruesome every day! I had to restrain the urge to go to him and yell, 'Hey, You-Who-Don't-Wanna-Be-Named, it's called a facelift; ever heard of one? Take it or leave it!'
Voldemort's eyes darkened considerably. "Excuse me?"
Uhh… oops, did I say that out loud? "Yes, sir?" I asked him innocently. "Is there something wrong?"
His face contorted into some kind of nasty sneer (or was it a smile? They both look horrible!) and he stroked him chin.
Wow, this guy is starting to remind me of Jafar from Aladdin. Remind me to never let Hermione play that on her television-thingy ever again when she's at the Burrow.
"Well, Miss Weasley, I hate to say it, but you are right. It seems I do need a facelift." Lord Thingy let out such a bark of laughter that the hairs on my neck prickled and rose up. "Which reminds me of why I had to come down here in the first place. You know, I can just take your baby now. I would hate to ruin your body with stretch marks."
Ruin my body? "Umm, that's ok. I think that I'll just take the stretch marks."
He shrugged. "Suit yourself. I was just trying to do you a favor."
No, I thought you were just trying to be a personal visitor.
…
Hold it… personal visitor? That's just nasty. Uh oh… here it comes… Don't do it, Ginny, you're going to get yourself killed faster this way!
"Miss Weasley!"
"Oops, sorry… I couldn't help it!" I broke down and started sobbing. And trust me, that is not a pretty sight. Especially since I can't move my arms to my face or anything of the sort. "Please don't :hiccup: don't hurt :hiccup: me, I didn't mean it!"
"Ergh… Crabbe, Goyle, someone, please get her down, and take her to Pansy and Bellatrix for a bath." Right as the words left his mouth, the two of them came in and undid the ropes binding me to the wall.
"Did you get your cup of tea, Weasley?" Goyle asked. Wow, he actually sounds sincere. Crazy, huh? Well, maybe it's because I just lost my lunch, dinner, and every food item I'd eaten today across the front of Lord Voldything's robes.
"No, no, I'm :hiccup: fine; it's ok," I reassured him.
Crabbe turned to Moldy V. "Master, why does she sound drunk?"
"Ugh, I'm not drunk, ok? Can I just have a bath and some mouthwash?" I snapped.
"Fine, fine," Voldemort waved his hand in the air carelessly. "Crabbe, Goyle, take her to Draco's personal chambers. Pansy and Bellatrix can take it from there. Weasley, you'll find some dress robes in your size in young Draco's closet. Please don't mess them up this time! If you mess them up, the damned Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die is going to think I actually did you some kind of bodily harm… and we don't want that, now do we?" Sweet Merlin, is he missing a tooth? He needs to quit grinning so much all the time.
Crabbe and Goyle led me from the dungeon into Draco's…
Wow. When they said 'personal chambers,' I can tell you that I had honestly thought they meant his room. But, no, Draco not only has a room – he's got an entire friggin wing to himself!
"Dang. Somebody's been spoiled. Not to say that I don't love him," I added hurriedly, whenever I noticed Crabbe and Goyle exchanging questioning glances. "By the way, are your sons named after you? I feel kind of weird calling you 'Crabbe' and 'Goyle' constantly, because it feels like a couple of my Potions classmates just aged about, oh, 30 or 40 years right in front of my face."
"Yeah, they're named after us. And they're going to become Death Eaters like us, too! We're so proud." Goyle stated. Ok, I think I'm officially scared now.
"Well, here you are, Mistress… You will be the new Mistress once Master kills off the young Malfoy, right?" Crabbe said. He's going to do what! "You didn't know? Uh. Oops?"
"What do you mean that he's going to kill Draco?" I hissed. "Does Lord Moldy-face hate me that badly?"
Just then, Pansy poked her head out into the hall. "Alrighty, boys, thank you for dropping her off! We'll see to everything from here… I said SHOO, damn it!" She pulled me into the room. "So… what exactly did you do to merit coming out of the dungeon so early?"
'Aunty' entered the room, took one look at me, and raised her eyebrows. "Yeah, and what did you do to mess up those robes? You just had a bath, for crying out loud!"
I blushed. "Can I have some mouthwash first, and then I'll explain it to you?"
Pansy nodded, seeming to understand what I meant. "Ah, I see. You got some sexual innuendo out of it and then puked on him?" At my disbelieving stare and nod, she gasped. "You can't be serious!"
"… Mouthwash?" Bellatrix led me into the bathroom. As she closed the door, I could hear them practically roaring with laughter.
When I walked out of the bathroom, Pansy and Bellatrix were both calm again. "Theodore Nott's dad –not like I can remember, for the life of me, what his name is-" Pansy said, "came up here and told us that Narcissa will be fine in a couple of days."
I sighed. "That's a relief."
Bellatrix peered at me closely. "Why do you just look like someone died? I mean, I know you just hurled on Lord Voldemort, but after getting over the shock, I'd be rather happy!"
"Pansy, Aunt Bella… He's going to kill Draco."
(Q)"One too many hits with the Harry" is a var. of "One too many hits with the snake" (Aladdin).
Ok, I think that works for a chapter… I had such a nasty writer's block at the beginning. I mean, hey, they can't come and save her too quickly, now can they?
I know it sounds crazy, but I think I'm starting to like the way my Crabbe and Goyle are turning out…
I'm trying to update more often, if you all haven't noticed. I hope I made that chapter worthwhile for everyone. I'm going to try to get the next chapter out in the next couple of days, and the same thing goes for 'Baby, Oh Baby.'
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