Disclaimer: Same as before.
Please review, extremely grateful if you do, it shows me I'm doing my job :)
Onto the next chapter, which is entitled:
CHAPTER SIX-
Stronghold.
ONE WEEK LATER
Ohh, my head...
Reaching to touch the source of the pain, she felt rough material on the left side of her head. It was a bandage. She couldn't remember hitting her head, all her memory could draw out was running away from Tom, and then tripping on the stairs.
She pushed herself up with her arms, slowly, into sitting position, flinching at the shooting pain in her back. "Ohhh..." she moaned.
"And she awakes," a voice announced.
"Who is there?" Ginny said, opening her eyes, and seeing light blankness. "I can't see properly!" she said franticly.
"You've been asleep for above a week, Ginny, your eyes are not yet adjusted to the light," the voice, which was clearly male, came closer.
"Where are you?" Ginny said, holding out her hands and feeling the air.
"Right here, Ginny," the voice said in a low tone, taking her hand.
"Tom..." she said knowingly.
"That's right."
Ginny blinked repeatedly trying to adjust her eyes to the light. When they came into focus, the first thing she saw was Tom's deep blue eyes staring at her blankly. She let out a breath of relief at the fact she could see again.
"You know, Ginny," he said thoughtfully, "I should punish you for nearly killing my heir, but," his face turned to her, looking amused, "I think being in a coma for a week constitutes as a well enough punishment for almost murdering a helpless child."
She turned away from him and stared at a speck of dust sitting on a small painting of Boris the Barmy. "You didn't seem to mind when it was your life on the line, Tom," Ginny spat, crossing her arms, and fixing her gaze on Tom.
"Of course I didn't mind, Ginevra," he said, smiling and stroking her hand lightly.
Ginny sighed, and turned back to the painting, but she had lost the speck of dust.
They sat in silence for a while, Ginny playing with a strand of her hair, and Tom grinning madly at her. "I think you deserve a present, despite throwing yourself down the stairs," he said, suddenly.
"What for?" Ginny asked in a small voice.
"You've given me a son, Ginny," he said simply. Reminding Ginny that he was old-fashioned, as he leant toward her and kissed her lips. At least he is not angry anymore.
"The child has grown, you know," he said in an unfamiliar tone, with a glazed look. She looked down at her stomach, resting a hand there.
"Not that much," Ginny mumbled, disagreeing. She wanted him to stop talking about it. It was bad enough that it was his baby. "I'm tired, now, Tom." Just then, a man ventured into the room, looking slightly dishevelled. Tom instantly stood, backing away from Ginny.
"My Lord," the man said, hurriedly. "Is she well?"
"As far as I can tell," Tom replied, folding his arms. "And knock next time, Billington." Billington?
"Yes, my Lord," he bowed as if it were an apology. "She is awake, a very good sign."
He bustled over to her. "Good afternoon, Miss," he said politely, looking very fatherly with his wrinkled lines around his eyes and mouth. "I am sure you want to know your current condition, and I suppose you are particularly concerned for the child's current condition?" he said, smiling, and adjusting his glasses.
"Yes," Tom said, quickly, "we are."
Billington took out a piece of parchment from the black leather case he was carrying. He pushed his glasses up his nose with his finger, and turned to look at Ginny again. "You are completely stable, Miss, but you are, I am sure, slightly drowsy?" Ginny nodded in agreement. Billington smiled warmly. "That is to be expected after falling down a flight of stairs and bashing your head. Now, the child," he flipped through his papers making an ''hmm'' sound, and Tom was becoming impatient, Ginny could tell because he was breathing deeply and tapping his shoe on the floor. "Ah, here we are, I trust my Lord has informed you that the child is male?"
"Yes," Ginny said, smiling, putting on a show, and looking up at Tom, "we are very happy." Tom moved closer to Ginny liking what he was hearing.
"The child is very healthy, very rare after taking a knocking like that," Billington said curiously. Tom's mind instantly began forming an answer.
"Maybe the child has powerful magic," Tom said arrogantly. Ginny turned to look at him. All he cares about is if the child is powerful.
"That is a strong possibility, my Lord," Doctor Billington said, thoughtfully. "But, the child is very healthy and stable. You should have a slightly easier birthing process than other witches have experienced because of this, Miss," he smiled gently, putting his papers back in his briefcase.
"Thank you, Doctor Billington," Ginny said, smiling. He left the room, shutting the door behind him, and Ginny closed her eyes.
"Ginny?" Tom said gently, the tone still not suiting him.
"Mm-hmm?" she mumbled.
"Aren't you going to thank me?" Ginny opened her eyes, staring at Tom questionably.
"For what? Letting me talk to someone else?" she said sarcastically. Tom didn't take any notice of her childishness, feeling that it was only the child making her be that way.
"For giving you an easy birth," he said pointedly, and gazing at her body. "It's obviously my magic that has made the child this healthy, Ginny."
"Why do you have to be so arrogant all the time?" she said unhappily.
"Am I not allowed to be proud of my son, Ginny? Proud of his power? Or, proud of his ancestry?" Tom said, his eyebrows raised, and his hand settling on Ginny's hand, where it layed on her stomach.
"Heir of Slytherin," Ginny said distastefully.
"Yes, Ginny, but he is the start of my descendants, so he is my heir," Tom said sternly. "He is part of me, so accept that, Ginny. Just carry him and give birth to him, that is all you are required to do, Ginny."
"He is part of me too, Tom," Ginny said, staring out of the window past Tom's head. "I am required to love him, and that is what I will do."
Tom sat on the bed with her, smiling. "Good girl," he murmured, kissing her dry lips. Then Ginny knew that Tom would do anything in his power to make sure that Ginny knew she was his, and that the child would trap her even more so.
Lucius Malfoy was openly shocked when he had found out that Tom hadn't killed, tortured, or given Ginny Weasley back to the Order. He related this to his wife, fellow Death Eaters, his son, and even a few house elves.
Draco Malfoy, however, was very smug. He already had more than enough information to tease the annoying trio with: he knew where Ginny was, and he knew that she had gotten herself up the duff by her master.
He couldn't believe his luck.
Of course, he hadn't seen Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, or The Mudblood since their last meeting in The Three Broomsticks, they had had a fight, Ginny was with them then, she'd done another one of her Bat-Bogey Hexes. Not so powerful now, Weasel!
He began laughing to himself. Oh well, I can wait until next time, when they are laying dead at my feet. This caused Draco Malfoy to laugh harder. In the middle of his laughing session his mother had walked in, wanting to know if Pansy Parkinson was going to need a size 14 dress.
"I do hope you will not be laughing manically to yourself when you are married to Pansy, Draco." His laughter was cut short by the mention of his annoying wife-to-be. In fact, his spirits were not quite the same until two weeks later.
Ok, another chapter down, a load more to go. This is rather fun. So is reading your reviews, so review!
Sweet Riddle: Thanks for the suggestion, but I did the first person narrative in some parts because I wanted to show the readers, directly, what the characters were thinking instead of relying on Italics. Thanks for your review.