Chapter 2
As the first sunrays began to crawl across the dirty ground, Ginny tiredly opened her eyes. Had she even slept at all? The night had seemed to be endless. She had waited that her captor would return, but he hadn't.
Heavily she sat up. This had to have been the worst night she ever had experienced. Fear and the bitter coldness had kept her awake, let alone the words the Death Eater had said to her and whose meaning she hadn't been able to forget.
And each time she had dozed off, it had been only for a brief time. Nightmares had plagued her. She had dreamt of the dead wizard and the blinding green light of the Killing Curse. Again she had been on the train and had seen the little girl that had looked at her reproachfully in her dream.
Gazing into the sunlight that streamed through the tiny window, Ginny flung her arms tightly around herself. She was icy-cold, yet she was glad about the light. At night it had been so dark in her cell that she hadn't even been able to see her own hand in front of her eyes. The silence however had affected her even worse than the impenetrable darkness. The only noises in the cell had been her own. She would never have imagined that her breaths could be so loud.
Ginny stood up and stretched herself. She felt absolutely shattered. Her whole body seemed to hurt. Her arm, where the Death Eater had held her and her neck and cheek hurt the most. Rubbing her arms, she walked around a short distance and tried to warm herself up a bit. Yet it was useless. She was just too cold and much too hungry and thirsty to get warm again.
Pulling her thin cloak tighter around herself, she sat down again. But the coldness, the thirst and hunger wasn't the worst. It was the waiting, the uncertainty what would happen. That the Death Eaters would kill her was as just a terrifying thought as the possibility that they would keep her alive to be used as a toy.
Ginny buried her head into her arms. She was powerless against the tears welling up in her eyes. She could not bear it. The waiting drove her insane. How should she survive a second night if she feared that her captor would enter her cell any minute? She stared at the walls and almost she wished that the door of her cell would open.
She had no strength left to picture what would happen to her and yet she could not cease to think about it. Would he come at all? What, if he would forget about her? If he left her in this cell until her death?
Perhaps this would be the most merciful fate, she thought. In a few days she would die of thirst. And then it would be over.
But I don't want to die yet! she silently screamed, while desperation returned to her with full force.
Help me, please, someone help me, she prayed, fighting down the urge to stand up and to hit the cell's door, screaming as loudly as she could. She didn't know what was worse; to die of thirst or to be tortured to death. She tried to suppress those thoughts, yet it was to no avail.
Suddenly she realized that she was rocking slightly back and forth. Riveting her eyes on the window, she began to hum softly, finally to sing. As small as the comfort was, to remember songs, which she had believed long forgotten, helped her not to think permanently about what the followers of the Dark Lord would do to her.
The first thing Ron noticed as he went upstairs was the ghostly silence. It was this unusual silence which made him aware of what had happened yesterday more than anything else. His parents and brothers were already sitting at the breakfast table. No one greeted him and Ron didn't say anything either. Sitting quietly down, he cast a furtive glance at his family.
Just as he, they looked like they had scarcely slept in the previous night. With a stifled yawn, Ron reached for the teapot. While he sipped at his tea, his eyes wandered listlessly over the table. But he wasn't hungry. His family also didn't seem to have any appetite judging by the sight that greeted him as he looked around.
As his spoon fell onto the table and broke the piercing silence that hung over them for a moment, he started.
"Ginny", he whispered soundlessly.
He didn't even know whether his little sister was still alive. They had been close since childhood. There was only one year and a few months between them and thus, when they were little, they had always played together. The twins had had each other and their older brothers didn't want to play with them.
And now the Death Eaters had captured her and had Ginny in their power. If he closed his eyes he could still see Ginny as she desperately tried to follow them, heard her voice screaming his name. He hadn't been able to protect her.
If they would have only taken him! Why hadn't he held on to her hand? Why hadn't he done something? As Ron looked up his gaze met with his father's. In his eyes he thought to see hate. Weighed down by feelings of guilt, Ron hung his head.
A chair scratched over the floor and Bill stood up. Wordlessly he left the kitchen. In intervals of a few minutes, Arthur and his sons also left the house. Ron and his mother remained behind. Not being able to endure the silence any longer, Ron jumped up and fled to his room.
With each step that brought Severus Snape nearer to the great hall, he cursed inwardly. His double life as a spy was a continuous tightrope walk and occasionally even he didn't know which side he was on. To decide which information he could pass on without being revealed as a spy by Voldemort or being considered to be a traitor by Dumbledore caused him sleepless nights now and then. There were times where he only wished that one side would finally win.
Thinking of Albus, he gritted his teeth. The leader of the Order of the Phoenix had indeed given him the task of finding out what had happened with the abducted students. As if their fate wasn't decided from the beginning. You didn't need to be a genius to know that the missing children were being tortured in some cell.
Severus knew each of the seized students and though he would not admit it, their fate hit him. It would have been better, he thought, had they left their lives in the train. Their end would have been less agonizing.
Shaking his head, he wondered what Albus had been thinking. He wouldn't be able to help them anyway. Even if he would find them – something that was rather unlikely, considering the great size of the dungeons – he would not be able to free them. Though he would be willing to sacrifice his life for them, the risk was just too great. The thought he could succeed in putting all guards in the dungeons out of action was absolutely absurd.
As he came to a halt in front of the great hall shortly afterwards, he sighed. Taking a deep breath, he bowed to the inevitable and went in.
When she had stopped to sing, Ginny didn't know, but it had merely made her thirstier. Leaning against the wall, she had stared across the cell. Time had passed incredibly slowly. At each louder noise which had reached her cell, she had flinched. Only after a while she had realized that all noises came from outside. The thick walls in the dungeons were obviously an explanation why she had not heard any screams.
Running her tongue across her dry lips, she yawned. She was so tired, yet to sleep was out of question. Casting a glance at her watch, she saw that it was already late in the afternoon. In a few hours it would be getting dark again.
As the door to her cell swung open, she leaped to her feet. Her captor regarded her with a mocking smile. With two steps he had reached her. He seized her arm and flung her to the ground. Dazed, she tried to get up, but he was already on top of her.
Only as he brutally kissed her, she began to struggle with all her might. He raised his hand and slapped her in the face once again. She started to scream. While fighting with him she felt dizziness rush over her. Yet she could not help herself. She knew that it might be better to surrender, but she could not will herself to lie still.
"Shouldn't you be on your guard?"
The voice, which was suddenly heard, was icy cold. Miraculously, her captor let go of her immediately. He jumped up and stammered,
"Yes, of course, my Lord. Forgive me. It'll never happen again."
He had hardly made his apology as he fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Now it was him who screamed. Shaken to the core, Ginny sat up slowly. She leaned against the wall for support and gasped for breath. She was totally exhausted. It had cost her nearly all of her strength to fight against the wizard. And still she felt his lips on hers, felt his hands touching her.
The screams ceased and the same cold voice said,
"Go, and see to it that it will never happen again."
Staggering, the Death Eater clambered to his feet, bowed deeply and hurried out of the cell. Ginny's hands curled around the soft fabric of her cloak. Hesitatingly, she looked up and stared straight into the brightest emerald eyes she had ever seen. Her heart leaped.
She hadn't the tiniest doubt of his identity. She was sure that this was the young Lord. The son of the Dark Lord was very tall, had raven shoulder-length hair and a strange scar on his forehead that resembled a bolt of lightning.
He looked young; he was probably only one or two years older than she was. Over his black robe he wore a long cloak. Around his left arm a little snake was curled. The reptile was black and had red squares on its back.
Suddenly she realized that he was staring at her just as intently as she was at him. Under his gaze she began to feel uncomfortable.
"Stand up," he finally said.
Ginny did. Though she hadn't felt sorry for her captor one bit, the knowledge that the young Lord wasn't disinclined to use the Unforgivable Curses boded ill for her. Moreover, if she believed the many legends about him, it would be downright foolish to disobey him.
"Follow me."
He turned around and left the cell. Ginny stumbled behind him. What else should she have done, anyway? While yesterday she had gone downstairs, now she went upstairs. They left the dungeons and crossed the hall. Every Death Eater they encountered, went not only immediately out of their way, but bowed deeply, very deeply.
The young Lord didn't pay any attention to them as he led her through the castle. Countless corridors and three stairs later, Ginny had lost all orientation. In front of a door he stopped and raised a hand. The door glowed in a golden light and opened. Ginny followed him and stepped into a large comfortable room. Nearly all of the whole furniture was black. In several bookshelves hundreds of various books were standing. While she still was looking around, the young Lord went to one of the armchairs and sat down.
He lowered his arm and waited for his hissing snake to slide to the ground. A moment later the snake had disappeared under the table.
"Sit down," he commanded as he straightened.
Timidly, Ginny stepped closer and slowly sank into the armchair that stood opposite of the young Lord's. Her gaze she riveted on the softly shimmering wood of the table. Her heart was beating fast. As a quiet noise was heard, she jerked her head up. In the middle of the room a little house elf had appeared.
"Yes, my Lord?" it asked in a squeaky voice.
"Bring us supper."
Seconds later the elf returned with a tray. As the house-elf handed her a glass of tea, Ginny could not believe that she was served supper.
"Thank you", she said softly.
The hot tea warmed her and quenched her thirst. As she had emptied the glass, the little house-elf promptly poured her another.
"Help yourself," the young Lord said.
Ginny flinched slightly. Without meeting his gaze, she reached for the plate. Though she was as hungry as she had never been before, she hardly got something down. When she had eaten as much as she could, she felt indeed better. Her dizziness had also decreased. Holding her second glass of tea, she saw that her hands shook. Although it was warm here, she was freezing. It had been so cold in her cell.
"What's your name?"
Looking up, her eyes met with brilliant green ones. Quickly, she averted them.
"Ginny," she replied with a low voice.
Still his eyes rested on her and she blushed.
"You're cold. If you want you can take a hot bath. Over there is a bathroom."
His voice was cold and even. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. So she only nodded, stood up and went to the door he had pointed to. She wouldn't have been able to say a word anyway. As she had locked the door behind her, she leaned against it. Her thoughts spun around. She didn't understand it. Why was he offering her all that?
For a while she hesitated, but then she undressed. Shortly afterwards she slid into the hot water. With a grimace, she looked at the bruises that adorned her arm. Though gradually the coldness left her, she could not calm down. She just didn't know what to expect. Her eyes flickered to the door. Since she had the suspicion he might come inside, she tried to hurry.
As unexpectedly a house-elf appeared she started. In its hands the little being was carrying some towels and a silky white nightgown. The elf laid the things on the floor, took her own clothes and disappeared. With a feeling of dread, she looked down at the nightgown. Would the young Lord rape her?
The thought was obvious and she wondered whether it had been such luck for her that he had rescued her from the Death Eater. This cold calculation of the young Lord seemed somehow even more threatening to her. But whichever way she looked at the situation, no ingenious escape plan occurred to her.
Suddenly everything went black. Forcing herself to take steady breaths, she got out of the bathtub and sank down on the edge. A little later she took one of the towels and dried herself. Then she bent down and picked the nightgown up. Without being really aware of it, she pulled it over her head. As the cold material enveloped her, she had to suppress a shiver. She turned around and looked into the oval mirror, hanging on the wall.
It was as if a stranger would look back at her. Her slender face was ashen. Under her eyes, which seemed very wide, dark shadows lay. She reached out her hands and held onto the wash basin. She still trembled. But this time it was from fear.
What should she do? She couldn't remain forever in the bathroom, after all. It was final. She was at the mercy of the young Lord. And this time no-one would help her.
Taking a step towards the door, she paused. How long she stayed there, Ginny didn't know, though with each passing minute she felt worse. And yet, involuntarily a fierce determination rose in her. She wanted to live. Perhaps, she thought, he will not kill me, if I comply with his wishes.
Summoning all her courage, she opened the door. The young Lord was still sitting in his armchair. As she stepped into the room, he looked at her. Unsure what to do, Ginny walked over the soft carpet and was about to sit down, when she heard his voice,
"Come here."
He patted the place next to him and moved over. Tensely she sat. Cold fingers lifted her chin up and she flinched. Once more she looked into his emerald eyes. She tried to read in them, but they were like a mirror, revealing nothing. He bent forwards and kissed her. While her heart was beating so fast that it hurt, she felt his hand sneaking around her waist and her resolve to let everything happen, wavered.
Yet she knew that she hadn't a chance against him. He was much stronger and more powerful than she was and she was so exhausted, so drained. And even if she had dared to fight against him, it would only bring her closer to her own death.
At least his kisses were gentle and not brutal, like the ones she had received from her captor. Nevertheless, she couldn't prevent the tears that welled up in her eyes. As he broke away from her, he seized her hands and pulled her up. He was about one and a half heads taller than her and as her legs gave away, it was good that he had been holding her so tightly.
With her in his arms, he walked to another door and pushed it open with one foot. The bedroom was bathed in a dim light. In front of the big four-poster bed that stood in the middle of the room he halted. Moments later she found herself on the soft blanket. He took off his robe, threw it carelessly on the floor and stretched out beside her. He drew her to him and kissed her. His hand made a strange movement and her nightgown disappeared.
He had performed magic without a wand, she thought shocked as he lowered himself on top of her. His weight took her breath away. Though she was frozen with fear, she slowly began to feel something else. His kisses were so soft, his touches as light as a feather as he stroked her cautiously. With his fingertips he traced circles onto her skin. Her tension lessened.
While Ginny was staring into his beautiful emerald-green eyes, which seemed to hold her captivated, a part of her marveled how this could be. She should not be enjoying his caresses, yet he evoked feelings in her she had never known before.
As he entered her, she felt a sudden sharp pain. Tears rolled down her cheeks. He paused and with one hand he gently wiped her tears off. Slowly, he began to move and to her wonder not only her pain faded, but her fear as well.
The cries of the girl woke him up. He bent over her, illuminated the room with his magic and shook her by the shoulder. Her eyes flew open and stared at him. Finally he said,
"Sleep on."
Turning around again to the other side, he broke his spell. Darkness descended upon them, yet his tiredness had gone. Instead he lay awake and listened to the unsteady breaths of the girl. As he recalled the relief he had just seen fleetingly creeping in her eyes, he felt something stir in him.
His thoughts wandered back to the dungeons. He didn't even know why he had gone to the dungeons this afternoon. There hadn't been any special reason. The desperate screams had led him to Ginny's cell. It had been the dark red hair that had prompted him to halt and to interfere, something he had never done before. And then she had looked at him. But why he had brought her to his chambers, he still couldn't understand.
Restlessly he sat up, looked to the side and regarded the sleeping girl in the bright light of the moon that streamed through the half opened window. The realization that Ginny had reminded him of his mother hit him without any warning.
His walls broke, suppressed memories assailed him, along with the hate which he had buried deep down in his soul for so long. He couldn't breathe anymore.
He jumped out of the bed and staggered to the window. The night air that he inhaled as deeply as possible did him good. For a while he stared at the dark shadows of the trees. Gradually he calmed down. He stepped to the bed again and thoughtfully looked down at Ginny, yet he just couldn't say with certainty whether she resembled his mother's appearance or not. But something about her had shaken him up and had managed to break the indifference surrounding him.
As he remembered how frightened her dark brown eyes had looked at him, he felt regret and a slight feeling of guilt rising in him. True, while he had raped the other women without a thought, he had made an effort not to hurt Ginny more than necessary. He couldn't blame her, after all, nor did he hate her.
Shortly afterwards he shrugged his shoulders and crawled back underneath the blanket. He knew that the time had finally come. They would pay. They all would pay. And he would get his revenge. As he gazed up at the ceiling, he clenched his hands. Why had he only wasted so much time? For so long he had been inactive. He could have already done something long ago.
But it wasn't too late yet. While a soft smile played around his lips, he lost himself in his thoughts. He only needed a suitable plan. Then he would put his retaliation campaign into action. He would keep his oath.
