Ginny was almost sure Tom wasn't coming back. He kept his word. Ginny had to admit, it was a boring time without him. But less hate raged in her heart, although she was sure it would return when he did. But for now she had peace. She found herself meditating quite often. Kreacher told her that was the first step towards closing off her mind. She needed to be able to make it first go blank. Then, when she was ready, to put false thoughts in her mind. Superficial things. It would deter Tom from looking further.
Ginny didn't dare to call Kreacher, even when Blinky left the room every night. Tom might come at anytime just to make sure she was behaving and not making conversation with anyone.
After the second day, Ginny began sketching. All she could think of was Tom, with that smirk that infuriated her. The sharp cheekbones. The black hair that fell over his face in a too careless manner. The eyes that held scarlet at times. She found herself pouring herself into his portrait. She wanted to capture him as he truly was. He was a beautiful devil. But then hadn't Lucifer been God's most beautiful angel? It made sense in an ironic way. When she finished, everything right down to the red gleam in his eyes perfected, she told Blinky to take it to him. Blinky didn't answer, but she did disappear. When she came back she was empty handed, so Ginny assumed she had done as Ginny asked her to.
By the third day Ginny wanted to destroy the room. She was going crazy, she just knew it. When Blinky had dared to leave a cup, Ginny broke it by throwing it at a wall, watching the way the glass broke so beautifully.
She stopped sleeping. Whenever Blinky would pop in, Ginny was awake. She began painting on the walls. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville, and her whole family. The walls were her canvas. Perfect white walls, that she wanted to deface as a fuck you to Tom.
The Dark Mark stood black on her forearm, taunting her. If she'd had scissors she would have cut it off even if it killed her. She was not His. She belonged to herself now. No one owned her, and no one ever had.
On the seventh day, when she was sitting on the floor, looking at the face of her family and friends while covered in paint, Tom came. She was sleep deprived, and when she looked at him she was sure he thought her broken. And she was. Broken hearted at least. She was exhausted, and hungry, and thirsty, and she just wanted him to say something, anything. Let him hit her for the walls. Let him scream. Just some human interaction that wasn't with voices that came from her mind. Voices of her dead boyfriend, for example.
Ginny wasn't aware of fainting. One moment she was staring into the cold eyes that almost looked like they held worry, and then she woke up to a Healer standing over her. She was in a bed that wasn't hers, in a much larger room. Later, she would see how ornate it was, but for the moment she was too tired.
"I don't know when the last time she slept was," the voice said to someone, "But I'd guess it's been four days. She has probably been hallucinating. My Lord… she needs to be watched more carefully."
Ginny could practically hear the sneer in his voice. "It was her punishment. She wasn't without food, water, basic amenities. She ichose/i not to sleep. I simply want her well enough by tomorrow to start her lessons."
"Of course, my Lord. I am leaving you with all the potions she needs to take. She needs this one for sleep, it should knock her out for at least ten hours which should be sufficient enough. These are vitamins. It'll help her recover faster. Is there anything else you would have of me, my Lord?" the voice practically simpered, and Ginny snorted, eyes still closed.
"I see fainting Beauty is awake," Tom drawled. "Can she take a shower? With assistance? Her paint will stain my sheets."
There was a moment of silence before the voice said, "Well, yes. I could assist her if you need me to do so, my Lord."
"No," Tom said dismissively, "I'll do it myself. Some humility would be good for her. You're dismissed."
Ginny heard a door open and close, and then the next thing she knew Tom was tugging off her clothes.
"The fuck?!" Ginny exclaimed, fear gripping her as she struggled to keep her clothes on.
"Ginevra, you are going to take a shower, and I am going to help your insufferable ass. Really, defacing my favorite guest room? You deserve this."
Once he had her clothes off, he stripped himself, and Ginny kept her eyes closed. She was too tired to care. If he was going to rape her he might as well get it over with.
"I am not going to rape you. You aren't worth it," Tom replied to her thought.
The next thing she knew she was being shoved into a shower with ice cold water hitting her face. She spluttered as Tom took a washcloth and soaped her up to her neck, not missing a spot. She was cold and felt violated, and Tom didn't seem to care. He scrubbed her most intimate parts raw. He scrubbed all of her raw, as though he could make her what he wanted her to be. Ginny wanted to cry but she refused. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She was stronger than that.
He roughly threw her out the shower when he was done cleaning her up. Even washing her hair he'd been rough, and Ginny's scalp felt raw. She wanted to crawl into bed, but this was his room. She didn't want to share a bed with him, but would she really have an option?
As he got out the shower, Ginny felt light headed. She just wanted to sleep and to forget where she was and most importantly who she was with.
Tom threw a night gown at her and demanded she put it on. She stood up, swaying on the spot as she shrugged it over her naked form. She was hardly aware of Tom leading her to his bed. She wouldn't remember Tom pouring a potion down her throat so she would sleep a good long ten hours. She would only vaguely recall the shower. Ginny let the darkness consume her all at once.
When she woke, Tom wasn't there. Where he had gone she had no idea, but she jumped up, ran to the door, tried to open it, and found out it was locked. He hadn't forgotten. Ginny wanted to kick the door in frustration. How long had she slept for? And how did she get in his room? The previous days' recollections were all so fuzzy when she tried to pull them to the forefront of her mind, and it was starting to give her a headache so she stopped.
As Ginny glanced around the room she was taken in by how beautiful the room was. It was roughly twice the size of her room, with an even bigger bed. Huh. She didn't realize they made beds bigger than king sized.
The bookshelves were stocked to the brim with books. Some looked blood stained, some were very worn, and all of them looked ancient. Of course, they all seemed to be about the dark arts. Should she have expected any less from Tom? She found she wanted to tear apart the books, but a simple repairo would have them fixed. She wanted to release her anger. That was all she ever felt around Tom or when thinking about him. Rage so intense it threatened to consume her.
She glanced over at his personal desk and was shocked to see the portrait she had done of him on top of the piles of parchment. She hadn't actually expected him to keep it. It had been a point she was making. She had captured his cold rage and his superiority. The portrait alone made her angry, so she looked away as Tom entered the room.
Tom stood there staring at her for a moment, most likely aware of the anger coursing through her. For a moment he said nothing. He just stood there smirking, and Ginny wanted to wipe the goddamn look off his face. He deserved to feel pain. He deserved to be miserable. Her whole family was torn apart because of this man who simply thought he was better than everyone else.
"It's five in the morning," Tom began, "But I have training for you today. I had Blinky clean your room, and I will be escorting you there. With shackles on because Merlin knows I can't trust you to walk to your own room without trying to escape."
"What training?" Ginny demanded.
"You'll see," he responded, and waved his wand so that shackles on her hands and feet appeared. She pulled at them, noticing they'd be incredibly hard to walk in. But then wasn't that the point? She couldn't get a wand if she couldn't properly wield it due to the positioning of her hands. It was clever, and that just made Ginny even angrier.
Tom grabbed her arm and dragged her out into the hallway. She struggled to keep up, but the shackles wouldn't allow her to walk fast. It was all she could do to keep from falling over repeatedly, and Tom seemed annoyed every time this almost happened. There was no chance of memorizing where she was going, but she did know that in a relatively short time she was being thrown into her room, Blinky there waiting on her.
"Make sure she eats, elf. I don't care if you have to force it down her throat. If she chokes and dies that is on her. And then make sure she is dressed for her training. Also, give her some damn coffee and try to do something with her hair. It's only going to get into the way during training."
And as Blinky nodded, Tom closed the door and locked it behind him she was sure.
The walls were bare now, and Ginny felt the need to throw paint at the walls. Make them look like they were bleeding the same way her heart felt like it was bleeding.
"Missus needs to eat!" squeaked Blinky, snapping Ginny out of her thoughts.
Ginny wanted to argue. She wanted to put up a fight, but this wasn't Blinky's fault. It was Tom's fault. Blinky was nothing more than a slave now like Ginny was herself. So Ginny sat down at the table that had been added and began to eat, barely noticing the coffee appearing out of thin air. Blinky said nothing while Ginny ate, and then got Ginny the clothes for training. Interestingly enough, they looked like work out clothes.
"Missus, let Blinky do your hair," Blinky said and Ginny sighed but nodded, reminding herself once again that this was not Blinky's fault in any way.
When Tom came to fetch her he said nothing. He shackled her again and led her to a large gym like room. There were weapons all across the room, and Ginny felt dread uncoil in her stomach. Was he going to beat her and see how much pain she could take? She wouldn't doubt that this sadistic fuck could do that.
"Ginevra, you are no where near being able to have a wand. I have no trust in you. But as another person attempted to gain access to your room, I feel it prudent and highly necessary to train you in arm to arm combat. I am going to try and attack you, and you are going to do your best to stop me. Understood?" he asked.
Ginny tried not to grin. For once she would be able to try and hurt him, and the thought was glorious. She told him she was ready, and without warning he lunged.
Ginny tried to dodge him, but he still pinned her to the wall by the back of her neck and her arms. Ginny was pissed. She didn't want him to win. She wanted him to lose. She wanted him to feel an iota of the pain she was feeling. She wanted to hurt him the way he had hurt her. Harry, gone. Bill and Fleur, gone. Ron and Hermione, in hiding. It was all absolutely devastating.
They tried again, and this time Ginny's hand closed around his throat, but once again she ended up pinned to the wall, anger raging in her heart. Tom was telling her how to fight him off, but she didn't care to listen. She cared to get all of her anger out, though she highly doubted she would be able to do so. She was living off pure spite at this point in time. Everyone else be damned, she'd make sure Tom Riddle died by her hand one day.
"You'll never be able to kill me, stupid Ginny," Tom teased.
"Is that a dare, or a double dare?" Ginny asked, waiting for him to lunge again. When he came at her she kicked him in the balls feeling quite happy about the wince that went across his face.
Tom Riddle might not think it possible, but Ginny knew with a certainty she would kill him or die trying. No one would stand in her way. And maybe killing him meant she would die, too, but she found herself unconcerned about that. All she needed was for him to be gone. He deserved to rot in hell, and Ginny was going to put him there. She was a Weasley, after all, and that meant never giving up no matter how hopeless it might seem.