Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own Harry Potter, if I did, would I be writing fan fiction? Emphasis on the word "fan".

Chapter 14: Anschluss.

January 1st 2000.

Ginny's Christmas was so very different from the noisy one last year, but, of course, she was with her large family, and there was bound to be tons of noise, especially since Fred and George had invented new practical jokes to test out on Percy. Tom was not very festive, as Ginny had expected. So, her Christmas was an utter bore.

Now, it was New Years Day, and Tom had left Ginny again, like he did almost every weekend. Ginny sat in her bedroom as Lauren entered, her wand in hand.

"Mademoiselle," she said, "Monsieur requested that I check to see if you are with child."

"Alright," she said tiredly, sitting down, and praying fervently that she was not with child at all. Lauren knelt in front of her, the tip of her wand on Ginny's stomach as she muttered a spell. Ginny watched the point of Lauren's well-polished wand light up with a eerie silver glow, after a few seconds the tip turned gold.

Lauren stood with a sigh, muttering 'Finite Incantatem'. "I am very sorry, Mademoiselle, but you are not with child."

"It's not your fault, Lauren," Ginny said in a sad voice, clasping her hands together sorrowfully. "My Lord and I have been trying so very hard, you see, he wants a son."

"Yes, Mademoiselle," she said pitifully, "but you are young, you must only be 19."

"18," she corrected, laughing inside at the open astonishment on her face. "Thank you, anyway, Lauren." She bowed, and left the room, her robes sweeping behind her, and as the door shut with a small click, she felt the need to celebrate. Ginny kicked her shoes off, and threw herself on the bed, laughing as she did so, and beginning to jump up and down with joy.

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When Tom returned home two days later, he was irritated to find that Ginny was not pregnant. How many times did he have to sleep with her? Not that he did not enjoy it, he was simply becoming impatient.

Ginny was outside, wearing her black fur hat and cloak since it was snowing, she had bent down to touch the snow with her gloved hand, and that was when Tom had came up behind her and scared her. She fell back onto the snow with a gasp and felt a chill run up and down her spine. "Don't do that! Every time you come home, you always scare me!"

"I like doing it," he said in a pleased tone. "It reminds me how people fear me."

"That is sick," she said vehemently, pushing herself up, as it seemed Tom was not going to be a gentleman and help her up.

"Oh, Ginny, when will you learn, I'm not 'sick', I am perfectly alright," he patted her on the head, "but, it's nice to know that you're concerned." Then he smirked as though he had a fine idea. "But, you know, it is rather chilly, and I am sure you don't want to catch a cold, I know I don't, so tonight, I think it would be fun if we shared each others body heat, how does that sound?"

"Despicable," she hissed.

"Ah, come now, haven't you missed me? I know you have, you always make up those awful lies when I come home." He pulled her to him; forcing her to walk with him, arm in arm. "Why don't you tell me something agreeable?"

"OK, the snowflakes in your hair make you look so…" she smiled adoringly, "idiotic."

"But, you noticed, and that tells me you have missed me." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Since you insist on lying, I will tell you something true," he stopped and turned to her, touching her cheek with his gloved hand. "I have resolved on my travels that a child from our union needs to be legitimate," Ginny stared curiously up at him, "I want you to be my wife."

"What!" she screeched.

"I want you to be my wife," he repeated calmly.

"I will not!" she said breathlessly.

"You don't have a choice," he said, smirking, "you will be my little wife." Ginny began to cry, knowing he would get his way, for that is the way he wanted. Being married to him made everything solid, like she would never get away from him. She would always be bound to him in some way.

"Why must you cry?" he said. "You must not be worried, I've got your dress, I think you'll look rather pretty considering that you are definitely not a virgin." Ginny sobbed harder, turning away from him. "Come, don't be frightened, it's only a little bit of binding magic." He took her inside, and to the bedroom.

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

"Because I can, Ginny," he looked down at her, and smiled, "now, Ginny, stop crying, you don't want your eyes to be all puffy." He wiped her tears away and kissed her on the head. "Don't you want to see your dress?" He called one of the house elves and requested that the wedding dress be bought to him. The house elf returned with a rectangular, black box. Ginny looked at through her teary eyes, feeling a horrible headache coming on. "Come here," she stood up and went over to him as he laid the box on the bed and took the lid off. It was an ivory dress, she could see, with spaghetti straps. She pulled it out of the box and saw that it was a simple, but elegant full-skirted dress; it would suit her fine, and it upset her that Tom knew this. In the box, also, were high-heeled white shoes.

"What if I don't say yes?" she said, folding it back up and placing it in the box.

"Ah, little Ginny, I think you know what I'll do," he whispered darkly in her ear. "And perhaps you should slip into something a bit more comfortable, something more provocative, we should practice for our wedding night, or perhaps I could just rip," he yanked her dress down sharply, "your clothes off…" he cupped her breasts and kissed her fiercely. "Oh, before we're in the midst of euphoria, I should tell you that you have to be ready by 11:00AM, and then you and I are going to hold a Celebration Ball, in which you will act like the perfect little wife, and then I will take you up here and…well, you know…."

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The next morning, Tom had to shake Ginny rather hard to wake her up, and once she did, he left her and began to dress himself in a black tuxedo, complete with a black cloak. He looked himself over in the mirror, and he thought to himself that there was no way she could resist when he looked so devilishly handsome.

Then there was a knock at the door, and with a wave of his hand, Tom swung the door open, and Lauren came in, a beaming smile on her face. "Monsieur," she bowed, and she went over to Ginny, who was still lying in bed, half-asleep. "Mademoiselle," she said softly, "you must wake, I need to dress you."

"I can dress myself," Ginny uttered.

"I need to do your hair, as well, Monsieur says so."

"I don't care what he says," she said, turning over and trying to get back to sleep, she was extremely tired, and she felt bruised in between her legs.

"Ginevra, get up right now, or I'll drag you out," Tom hissed, "or perhaps I'll make you marry me naked, how does that sound?"

"Fine," she growled, sitting up and holding her head in her hands.

"Mademoiselle, are you alright?" Lauren inquired.

"Oh, I'm fine, apart from the fact that I was kept up all night, satisfying my beloved fiancé before our wedding night, since he just could not control himself," Ginny smiled at Lauren sweetly, but gasped as she felt herself being pulled up violently by Tom.

"You better start doing as I say, you disobedient girl, and never, I mean never tell anyone about when, how, or why I fuck you, do you understand?" he sneered. She nodded her head. "Good, now, get dressed."

Ginny obeyed and let Lauren, who was rather shocked by her master's forcefulness, dress her, since the ties on the bodice were rather complicated, and then her hair was done in a complex bun with tendrils hanging down, and to top it off, a white flowery tiara was placed just over the bun, with two strings of pearls sloping over the top of her head.

When Lauren left, Ginny stared at herself in the mirror, she looked like a princess, and yet she was marrying someone that was the picture of Prince Charming, but was in fact, not Prince Charming at all. She used to think she would marry Harry, no matter what, and then she met Tom, when she was 11, and she thought less and less of Harry, but the thought of marrying Tom had never, not once, entered her mind.

"You remind me of a muggle fairytale, Ginny, what was it…?" he said contemplatively, "ah, yes, it was something called Cinderella."

"You're not meant to see the bride before, it's bad luck," Ginny said offhandedly, still looking at herself in the mirror.

"I don't believe in luck, Ginny."

"Obviously."

"Enough of the depressive behaviour, it's time to go…."

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Ginny stood, facing Tom with her head down. She thought she was going to die from standing too long, she thought as the minister droned on and on. Then she heard her name.

"Do you, Ginevra Molly Weasley, accept Tom Marvolo Riddle as your husband, through the bond of blood and soul?" Ginny stared at the ornate knife being raised by the minister and almost had a heart attack. Then she stared at Tom as he squeezed her hand, a venomous look in his eyes.

"I-I…do," she finally got out.

"Hands, please," the minister said, and Tom held his hand out, palm up, and Ginny copied. She jumped as the minister sliced her palm in a quick flash that she had not seen it coming.

"What kind of sick-?"

"Shut up!" Tom hissed under his breath, as the minister did the same to his hand.

"Now, please join hands," Tom grabbed Ginny's bloodied hand and clenched it tight as the minister pointed his wand, and muttered the binding incantation. All Ginny could do was stare back at Tom, wincing as the pain in her hand increased, and as droplet of blood splashed to the floor Tom let go and it was done.

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A/N: So, what do you think? Please review your thoughts.

Inappropriate-name: Merry Christmas to you to, yes, I do celebrate.

Chapter 15 should be up within a few days.