Ginny sat on the large bed, knees pulled up to her chest, window barred, and watched the rain come down outside. It was soothing in a way to sit there and listen to the rain, even if she knew she'd never be able to go out into it again.

Tom Riddle had left hours ago. Where he went, she wasn't sure. Maybe somewhere in this house. Maybe he was off killing babies, since he was that level of evil. Ginny just knew she was glad to be rid of him, despite how bored she was quickly becoming.

Ginny could see her reflection in the window, and there was a mark on her neck from where he had grabbed her and pinned her to the wall. It had scared her to think that she could die that quickly, simply because she raised her hand. Sure, she'd been going to slap him, but his overreaction was completely unnecessary.

Ginny sighed, closing her eyes and counting her breaths in and out. The room was slightly chilly, and there was a fireplace but Ginny had no wand to start a fire. She'd already tried opening the door earlier; it was locked as she had guessed it would be. She truly was a prisoner in a cage of gold.

The minutes ticked by, Ginny trying to relax her whole body while listening to the rain. But then the door burst open and Ernie McMillan was thrown into the room with a loud thud. Tom walked in, closing the door behind him and waving his wand to lock it most likely. He was grinning broadly.

"I brought you a present, Ginevra! Ernie here told me where the Order was hiding in exchange for his life. But to be fair, I think it's you who should decide what happens to him. He iis/i responsible for the deaths of your brother Bill, and his wife Fleur. They wouldn't come quietly, you see, like the rest of your family did once we threatened to kill you. And having you alive is so much more useful than having you dead," Tom smirked.

"Is it true, Ernie?" Ginny found herself asking as though it mattered. In truth, what was done was done. There was no undoing the past, just like there was no bringing Harry back. Every choice had led them to this dark and twisted rode where Ginny was some sort of concubine for the Dark Lord.

"Ginny, I didn't mean to! Hannah, she's pregnant! I was thinking of my child! Please, have mercy, Ginny," Ernie begged from the floor, crawling towards Ginny.

Ginny finally took in his appearance. He was dirty. Far dirtier than fighting would have gotten him. He looked like he'd been sitting in a dirty cell for days on end. His stubble showed, and his body bore several bruises, probably from torture sessions.

"Should I think of my family when I decide what to do with you?" Ginny asked harshly, and Ernie began to cry.

"Ginny, p-p-please! I am so sorry. I-I didn't m-mean to do it. I swear," he pleaded.

Ginny found she cared little for his crying. And although it probably would have brought her great satisfaction to see him in pain—if Bill and Fleur really were dead—Ginny was not that person. She was a Gryffindor. She was noble and brave and stupidly loyal. Ernie had been scared, they all were. That didn't mean she needed to retaliate.

"I wish no ill upon you, Ernie. May you forgive yourself for what you have done," Ginny said softly.

Tom looked angry, but he made no move to harm Ginny, so she supposed that was a blessing and a curse. To continue this existence would be hell, and Ginny could feel the depression enveloping her. This really was a hopeless situation.

"Well, I'm the Dark Lord here, and I say you should slit his throat," Ton said handing her a knife. And yes, her immediate thought was to kill Tom, but even if she could there was no way for her to leave without being caught. There could be guards posted right outside her door. Or the whole house could be empty, but given that this was Tom Riddle she was dealing with she highly doubted that was very likely. He'd want her watched after while he was away so she couldn't drown herself or whatever else he thought she might do.

But Ginny would not do this. She would not take an innocent life as retribution for a crime, and she said so.

"Oh, I think you will," Tom smirked before muttering, "Imperio."

Ginny felt light and content. If she were a cat she would be purring. Every decision was taken out of her hands, and she was given one simple instruction: Kill Ernie.

And why shouldn't she? He had killed her brother and sister-in-law. Why shouldn't she get justice? And that voice, that seductive voice was whispering in her ear, encouraging her to spill his blood all over the floor for them to see.

It wasn't even a choice. Ginny stood up and slit Ernie's throat, watching the blood gush out of him, feeling it covering her feet. And then the knife was taken from her and the curse was lifted and she cried out in horror at what she had done.

But it was too late. Ernie was already dead, and Tom was laughing manically. Ginny felt as though she might be sick. There was so much blood she could smell it, and her feet were covered in the red substance. It was too much. Ginny ran to the bathroom, wishing there was a lock on the door. But there wasn't. She huddled in a corner, trying not to think about Ernie out there, dead by her hand because she couldn't fight off the Imperius curse.

There was a rap on the door and Tom's voice sang, "Oh, Ginny."

"Go away you monster!" she screamed.

Tom simply laughed in response. "Come on, Ginny. Don't make me open the door myself. That would make me angry, and you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Ginny wanted to ignore him, but after Ernie she was sure he wouldn't hesitate to kill her. This was all a game to him, she guessed. See how far he could push her before she broke. But Ginny Weasley wasn't a damn baby. She hadn't been one since she woke up on the Chamber floor to discover she had let loose the monster that attacked people in her school.

She opened the door an inch to see Tom smiling broadly.

"Very good, Ginevra. Now come back out here. I want you to really look at your handiwork. It was quite a great kill, if I do say so myself. You got the artery the first try, and I didn't even tell you to do that. Come here, Ginevra," he said, grabbing her and dragging her over to Ernie's body.

The carpet all around him was stained red. There was blood on the foot board of the bed. She even saw a few drops of blood on the white walls a foot away. And Ginny could see that she'd nearly decapitated poor Ernie. She didn't want to look anymore, but she looked anyway. She wasn't going to let this psychopath win.

"iLet/i me win? Why Ginevra, I've already won. Potter is dead. The Order is in custody. I have my own unplottable manor. Really, what is there left to fight for?"

And Ginny Weasley found that she didn't have an answer to that.