Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: Jay Ficlover, I don't really include Harry and Hermione in the story as I'd rather focus on Ginny and Tom, and I enjoy writing those scenes a bit more.

Chapter 21: Over The Top.

"Good evening, Lucius," Tom said to his most trusted Death Eater as he entered his study, "I trust my letter explained why I must speak with you?"

"Yes, it did, my Lord," he answered, "I suppose the girl is with Potter?"

"And Dumbledore," Tom smirked slightly, unable to muster any feeling, even scorn, since Ginny had been taken from him; he hated it. "Though the old man is losing his touch, he still has his intellect."

"What do you wish of me, my Lord?" Lucius said, readily waiting his master's orders.

"I want you to gather up the forces, Lucius, we're going after Potter and Dumbledore."

"Both, my Lord!" he exclaimed.

"We are going to set an example," Tom said simply, "nobody takes my pregnant wife and gets away with it."

Lucius stared at the Dark Lord, and felt that perhaps the girl was not as disruptive as he thought; she had now become the trigger to the events that were about to happen. And when it did, Lucius Malfoy was going to make sure he was there when it happened. The Dark Lord would award him greatly for helping him get his only love back. And he knew this, he knew the Dark Lord loved the poor Weasley girl, it seemed the only person who didn't know this was the Dark Lord himself.

"I understand, my Lord," he said darkly.

"And I will be leaving for France next week, and then I shall join you once your mission is done."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Your son, Lucius," Tom said suddenly, "he was given the Mark a year ago, was he not?"

"Yes, my Lord, he was," Lucius then smirked smugly, "he eagerly awaits a mission."

"Well, you can tell him he has one, Lucius," Tom said. "I hear he has a knack for winding Potter up…."

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Harry looked around the corridors and remembered all the adventures he, Ron, and Hermione had shared, and the many times he had walked along this hallway to speak with Dumbledore, which was what he was going to do now. As he reached the gargoyle, he muttered "Strawberry bon-bons", as directed in the letter Dumbledore sent him.

Once he climbed the steps, he knocked on the door, and waited until Dumbledore came and opened it himself. "Ah, Harry, just on time, and you are not here because of some odd adventure your friends have gone on," Dumbledore said, with the familiar and comforting twinkle in his eyes.

"Makes a change though," Harry replied.

"Yes, I suppose so, Harry," Dumbledore ushered him inside, and sat at his desk and gestured for Harry to take the chair opposite. "That is one of the reasons why I sent for you, Harry. Things are changing."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Harry, I don't know how many times I have said that you may call me 'Albus'."

"Sorry, sir."

Dumbledore smiled, but continued. "I am getting old now, Harry, past my prime, and all of that," he still smiled, "it's time for you to lead the Light, it is you they aspire to, and even if you should fail, they will still fight for you, Harry, they will fight for The-Boy-Who-Lived."

"But, you created the Order, Professor," Harry insisted, "they follow you."

"They cannot follow an old man, Harry." Dumbledore stood up, and ran his wrinkled hand over his pet phoenix, Fawkes. "But, I must ask something of you, Harry," he stood beside him and handed him a small piece of parchment.

Harry unfolded it and read what was on there. "An address, sir?"

"Yes, I want you to take Ginny Weasley there, after she has had the child," Dumbledore said clearly, "you see, Tom Riddle will want her back."

Harry scowled. "What would he care for his child? Like father, like son, they say."

"Sometimes, it is not true. Tom Riddle did not know his father." Dumbledore looked at Harry sorrowfully. "From what Miss Weasley has told me, Tom has fallen in love with her -,"

"In love!" Harry laughed. "Voldemort, in love?"

"Do not laugh, Harry, it is not a joke," Dumbledore said seriously. "Miss Weasley is not aware of it, and I don't think Mr. Riddle wants to be aware of it, but it is there." He returned to his sit as though he was tired. "You need to understand so you will be ready at any time should Mr. Riddle show up for the woman he has only ever loved. And a man such as Tom is more dangerous when he loves than when he hates."

"Ron said that he had married her," Harry said quietly.

"Yes, it is true, and the ceremony is irreversible, she is his wife forever until he dies. They are bound by blood and soul, and I have only heard myths of that type of marriage," Dumbledore looked across at Harry with an ironic smile on his face, "and he sealed the deal with a baby."

"It's despicable."

"Yet, he thought it was not, for he believes Ginny belongs to him, now and forever, and that means he will stop at nothing to bring her back to him."

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September 2nd 2000.

Tom flipped open his pocket watch. 10:00AM. He had expected to be at the small cottage 10 minutes ago. He had left Russia, after informing his General, and gone to Germany to be taken by an inconspicuous car, to Bologne in France. Time was very important now, the more that was wasted; the longer he would have to wait to take Ginny back. Though he still wanted for her to come to him. He could not think about how those bastards would be corrupting her mind, telling her that she should get rid of their baby….

He looked out of the window, and noticed for the first time that they were close to the sea, the Channel to be precise. Across those waters was Ginny and their unborn baby. Yet, he thought, was he unborn? How could he possibly know?

"My Lord," the driver called out to him, snapping him out of his thoughts, "we are here." Tom readied himself to get out of the car as they pulled up at the driveway. The cottage was small, adequate enough for the amount of time he wished to stay there, and it need not be extravagant. The driver opened the car door, and Tom stepped out, ordering him to take his things inside and then to leave.

Tom, meanwhile, went inside and looked out of the window in the living room, wanting to look over horizon. He closed his eyes instead and leant his hand on the window frame. All he could ever think about was Ginny, it disgusted him to no end, and yet, he liked doing it. He liked wallowing in his battered pride.

"My Lord, your bags are in the hall."

Tom waved his hand in acknowledgement, and as the front door shut, he heard distant panting. He snapped his eyes open; it didn't sound like it was coming from in the house, or outside for that matter, it was coming from, coming from…his head…. He suspected he was having another fantasy again, unconsciously.

He turned away from the window, and the sound stopped as he went to pour himself a whiskey. When he turned back, an ear-splitting scream ripped his head apart, and he dropped the glass causing it to smash on the windowsill. What was this fantasy? He frowned, rubbing his head, and once he got over the initial shock, the panting began again. This time it was accompanied by words, words intercepted by groans. "Ooh…it hurts…make it stop!"

How could this be? It sounded like Ginny, she was in pain…pain? He worked it out quickly in his head. 9 months to day. His baby was being born! And he listened intently, to Ginny's panting, and knew that the bond of blood and soul was true. It worked as he had meant for it to work.

When he heard the faint cries of a baby, he did rule the world. And if he should close his eyes once more, he would see the blurry image of an exhausted looking Ginny holding his newborn baby, but he did not. The one-way communication he had experienced, spurred him on. He had to finish his plans as quick as possible if he was to see Ginny again.

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Added Scene.

September 9th 2000.

Ginny walked up the pathway of Grimmauld Place, two Aurors accompanying her; they had picked her up from St. Mungo's, where she had had the baby. It was night time now, and it was rather chilly. Nobody would realise that in her arms was her baby, wrapped in thick white blankets.

When they entered the house, the Aurors departed in different directions, and Ginny was thankful that, as she went up the stairs, the portrait of Mrs. Black was asleep. She did not want the newborn to be awoken by that shrill voice.

"Ginny," a voice said quietly behind her. She turned around and looked into the face of her brother, Ron. "That's it, isn't it?" he said distastefully.

"It is a he," she replied carefully, "and he is lovely."

"How can you be so glad about this, Ginny?" Ron said in a hard voice, his forehead wrinkling with a frown. "I need to understand."

"Because it is my baby, Ron, for goodness sake, and you're his uncle whether you like it or not," she hissed. "I've already gone through this with you, Ron, and I'm not repeating myself."

"What would Mum and Dad say?"

"They're not here to say anything," she replied angrily, trying to control the volume of her voice. "The baby is innocent, don't you understand?" Ginny looked down at the small boy in her arms, and back to Ron, her eyes sad. "He did not ask to be made."

"How could anything from that bastard ever be 'innocent'?" Ron said, his tone louder than Ginny would have liked. "And you could have put a stop to this, you could have taken the potion!"

"Would you shut up?" she said harshly. "Listen to me, Ron, why can't you just accept my choice? You have to, because I can't change my mind now!"

"Why don't you listen to me? You could have taken the potion, when the choice was presented to you."

"I didn't want to take that potion," she spat. "Why don't you grow up? Just because the father is Tom, it doesn't mean you have to hate the baby. I am his mother."

"Don't call him that, Ginny, it's sickening," Ron insisted, looking away from her as though the sound of his name repulsed him.

"Why not? It's his bloody name!" Ginny said sharply. "I refuse to call him by his fabricated names." She sighed tiredly. "I've had enough of this, I'm going to bed-."

"Charlie won't approve-."

"Don't even bother telling me about Charlie." Ginny stormed off, leaving Ron alone in the hallway, and as he heard a bedroom door shut in the distance, he went back into his room, and dreamed about the days when they were all alive and well.

However, Ginny stayed awake, simply staring at the baby. She had not named him yet, for she had no idea what to call him. Many names flashed across her mind; Michael, Anthony, Jason…but none seemed to suit. Ginny gave up and decided that she would think some more the next day or she would end up calling him 'Baby' for the rest of his life.

She pulled back the blanket slightly to reveal a head of black hair, like Tom's. Ginny wondered if, when he was older, he would look like Tom, and she shuddered at the thought of looking into the face of her son and always seeing Tom.

Knock Knock.

Ginny stood up, leaving the baby laying on the bed momentarily, and opened the door, revealing Harry in his pyjamas. "Harry?" Ginny said, frowning and wondering what he could want.

"I need to tell you something," he said, his face so serious that Ginny allowed him to come in. Ginny shut the door, and sat back on the bed next to the sleeping child.

"What is it?"

"Dumbledore told me to take you here," he pulled out a piece of crumpled parchment from his trouser pocket, and handed it to her, "he said to take you there when you had the baby."

Ginny had never heard of the location, and when she gave it back to Harry, she wondered why he was looking so distressed. "Right now?"

"No, you need to rest, and so do I, actually," he said softly. "Maybe in a few days."

"Why does he want you take me there?"

"He said that Tom Riddle will try to take you away again," he replied, rubbing his forehead in a suppressive way.

"Harry, what is wrong with you?" Ginny said gently, standing up and leading him to her bed.

"I…Dumbledore…he said that I should lead the Order," he said weakly, "but I can't, what if I fail? What if I fail you?"

"At least we knew that you tried, Harry, and that is all that matters."

"I can't afford to fail you," he said quietly.

"We all have faith in you, Harry," Ginny said clearly, "and even if you failed, I'd forgive you. He has no compassion, Harry, killing is in his instinct, it is not in yours, and you should be proud of that."

"Dumbledore told me that he loves you," he looked pointedly at her, "is that true?"

"What?" she said, laughing unsurely. "He can't love…."

"Dumbledore said that you are the only woman he has ever loved," Harry said in a low voice, "he said he is more dangerous in love than when he hates. I need to know, Ginny."

Ginny thought back unwillingly, now that someone had said it point blank, it seemed clear that that was the truth, even though she did not want it to be. "Yes…yes, it's the truth…."

Harry stood up, and laid his hand on her shoulder. "Ginny, I'm sorry."

She looked up at him, confused. "Why?" And she saw his gaze fall on the baby. "There's no need to be, it's not your fault. And I'd say that he was the only good thing to come out of the whole thing."

Harry gave a small smile. "I understand."

"I wish Ron did," Ginny said, chuckling, and as Harry was about to leave the room, Ginny stopped him. "Harry? Wait. What would you name your son?"

Harry scoffed, and looked down, and when he lifted his head once more, he said, "Leo, like Lion, bit silly, but it reminds me of Gryffindor…. Good night, Ginny," he left the room, shutting the door as he did so.

Ginny looked over the baby once more, smirking. "Leo…."

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A few days later, Harry stayed true to his word, and took Ginny to the address Dumbledore had given him. Harry had told Ron and Hermione what he had to do before they left. They went by Portkey, and Harry destroyed it as soon as they reached the small, dilapidated looking house, but once inside, the house was a palace next to Grimmauld Place.

Ginny and the baby settled in nicely, and Harry was on alert at all times, fearful that Tom Riddle would come at any time, come for his only love….

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A/N: OK, I decided to add this scene, because this one did fit in well with this chapter, also I wanted the baby to be called Leo, because I thought that if Tom were to see the baby, he would be pissed off about it being named after a Lion, the symbol of everything he hates. Like bravery, and the fact that it was Harry that came up with it was the icing on the cake. So, anyway, review while I write the next chapter.