Secret Keeper
Part 3 of 3 (Finito? I doubt it.)
Disclaimer: I still don't own anything mentioned herein, but you'll know if I ever happen to gank it, because you wont see my ass here ever again.
And continuing: 16 reviews. No clue how many hits, because there's no hit counter here, but 16 isn't as crap as my usual, though it's hardly respectable.
The youngest child of the Weasley family, Ginny Weasley, was trembling. It was particularly cold in her room, in fact, looking at her would dictate the complete opposite, she was covered in sweat. It would be assumed from her sweating, and the shallow gasping breathes she gave every few seconds, that she was simply overly hot, but this was wrong, too. In fact... right now, everything about Ginny Weasley was equal parts very wrong, and very right.
"Tom?" Ginny asked.
"Yes, my love?" the dark-haired boy answered.
"Where were you all that time after you fought Har- - Potter?"
"I was weakened by the boy, my dear. He's not very powerful, but he does have astounding luck, and I had to lay in wait and recover. As soon as Wormtail assisted me in regaining my power, I made sure my Death Eaters were watching you, until I could make sure it was safe for both of us for me to come and get you. And I didn't want to come too soon, Ginny. I am less without you, but I knew you had to grow without me for a while. You are so very strong, Ginny, I wanted to make sure you could reach your full potential before I came for you." he said, stroking her face with one long, pale finger.
"Of course, Tom. Did I make you proud of me? Am I as strong as you think I could be?"
Tom laughed, a harsh, malicious sound, though Ginny was oblivious to the venom in the sound.
"You are doing very well, Ginny. You still have time to grow, and with me nurturing you, you will achieve your power quickly. I'm very proud of you."
Ginny beamed and hugged Riddle tightly. "I'll make you so proud of me forever, Tom, I promise."
"I don't doubt it."
Back in her bedroom, Ginny Weasley was curled in a ball, no longer trembling but now out-and-out shaking and seizing. Her breath came not in gasps but in tired, near-breathless pants, quick and soft. She closed her hands into tight fists, clenching them so tight that her fingernails cut bloody half-moons into her palms.
And in another location entirely, the Dark Lord, Voldemort, sat beside the fire, alone in his ornately furnished room save for one olive green snake, wrapped around the bottom of his chair. His head was leaned unto his chest as if he had fallen asleep.
"Now, Ginny. It's been a while since you and I were together... I want to ask you, one last time... prove your loyalty to me." he told her, leaning in for a quick, fiery kiss.
Ginny simultaneously smiled and blushed, turning away. After a few moments, she looked back to him. "Only for you, Tom." she said, leaning and clutching the bottom of her robes and slipping them off over her head.
Ginny was again sprawled out on her bed, skin flushed as pale as the crescent moon peering into her room. Her body was limp now, the blood from her hands continued pouring from the tiny wounds and stained the bed sheets, which were by now soaked through. Ginny breathed shallowly, her chest barely moving, and every so often a gasp or a low moan would escape her half-parted lips.
Voldemort lifted his head and gave his snake companion the closest thing he could come to a smile.
"It is done, Nagini. First his parents, then Diggory, then Dumbledore, and now, his fool of a blood-traitor girlfriend have fallen before me. He will be no threat to us."
In the morning, the Weasley family, along with Harry, Hermione, Luna, Remus Lupin, and several assorted members of the Order of the Phoenix woke up for breakfast at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place awoke for breakfast. After about an hour had passed since Molly Weasley woke up to start cooking, she asked Harry to go get Ginny out of bed. Harry agreed and went up to her room, knocking on the door to assure her of her privacy. He got no answer, and knocked again, and upon still not being answered, he checked to doorknob, hit it with an Alohamora, and walked in. He took two steps before stopping suddenly, his blood run cold, breath not coming to him properly. He ran to Ginny's side and grabbed her hand, feeling for a pulse. He waited for what seemed like hours without a single beat and fell to his knees, sobbing. Hermione walked in moments later to see what had been taking him so long, and stood in the doorway, shocked. Ginny lay on the bed, still and breathless, pale as a ghost, and beside her, in what looked like her own blood, was an unmistakable Dark Mark drawn into the sheets.