A/N: I meant to have this up earlier, but I was sick and also turned 24, so…there's that. At least I've gotten to where I'm updating once a month? I'm hoping to work my way to once a week!

Dedication: I asked for prompts on my Tumblr, and received a few amazing ones. So this chapter is dedicated to the people who gave them to me, because without them this chapter would still have 0 words written! Thanks: worldwithinworld for the word 'distance', thebirdofthornfield for the lovely art prompt (and Erin Mulvehill for creating the art) and shestheonebeneathmywings for 'energy'. I tried to represent these all in both literal and subtle ways. Also thanks to agoodflyting for offering a punishment for my not finishing this tonight so intense I had no choice but to get writing (a day without internet? Uh – no thanks!).

Disclaimer: JK owns Harry Potter, not me.

Enjoy!

I curse this love that so eludes me

- The Phantom of the Opera, Ken Hill

For a moment, she thought that the room was full of smoke. But the smoke was only steam, rising in thick white spirals from the water of her bath. She'd taken to having baths as hot as she could possibly stand, and though she was sure there was some deep philosophical reason, she couldn't think of it. Perhaps the sting of the heat kept her in reality when she would much rather be in a fantasy world. Or maybe the heat represented the passion Tom wanted her to have but which she lacked. Or it could have been a reminder of her danger. The frog put in cool water that is slowly heated will stay until it's cooked to death. The frog placed directly in hot water will jump out.

Ginny wished there was some way of her jumping out of the hot water she was in. She tried to form all sorts of escape plans, but they were all foiled by the fact that she apparently lacked the ability to perform an Unforgivable on Tom. And even if she could, how would she ever get to the wand? She'd thought of perhaps seducing him, pretending she finally loved him and slipping the wand out of his robes unnoticed. But she couldn't imagine herself seducing him, and she was sure he would see right through it.

But then, what was she supposed to do? Just sit and wait until she was cooked?

Tom was most definitely cooking up something big. His attempt to seduce her was just the beginning. He wouldn't give up there. He would keep trying to force her to fall in love with him until it destroyed her. Whatever his next plan was, it could easily be the most frightening.

Ginny hadn't seen Tom since he'd stormed from her room that night. She couldn't be sure, but it felt like it had been almost a week ago. Since then, trays of food appeared at her door four times a day (three meals and a cup of some sort of slightly sweet, slightly spicy herbal tea in the evening), and when she placed them outside her door they disappeared. She occasionally heard movement in the hallway, but he never knocked on her door. He had left the cottage a few times, but she never bothered to find out why or to leave her room at all except to go to the bathroom and back.

With nothing much to do except read the books in her room, Ginny had made it a habit to bathe twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. This was her evening bath. And she knew that when she left there would be a silver tray with a glass teacup in front of her door. The first couple times it had appeared she'd ignored it, afraid some sort of love potion had been combined with it. But one particular night she'd been very thirsty and frustrated and had given in. Now she found the taste soothing, and it calmed her raw nerves enough that she could sleep.

Finally, Ginny left the bath, her otherwise pale skin tinged an angry red from the water.

She unplugged the tub and went to the sink. The mirror was clouded from the steam, but she swore for a moment that the girl looking back at her wasn't her. The water had darkened her auburn hair to almost a brownish-looking color, and the humidity in the room made it wild. Her eyes were in slits as she stared back at her reflection and then, slowly, she lowered her gaze. She couldn't stand seeing this pale, thin shadow of the fierce creature she had once been.

Distance. That was one word she couldn't quite seem to get out of her head. There was so much distance between that self and her current one, between who she was and who she ought to be. There was distance between herself and the life she wanted, between herself and the love of her life, between herself and the broken remains of her family, between herself and her happiness. What she wanted more than anything was to close that distance. To be the almost Amazonian warrior woman she had been on her way to becoming, to being with her family and marrying Harry and having her dreams come true.

It had all been in her grasp, and it felt as though the tips of her fingers had brushed against those things and then they were cruelly torn from her by a voice inside her head.

She was back to thinking about Tom again. But what else was she supposed to think about? Tom had made himself the center of her universe. He had filled her head and stolen her soul and isolated her from everyone she loved, first figuratively and then literally. And now he wanted to be even more the core part of her life. He wanted her love.

What would he be capable of in his attempts to win it? And what could she possibly do to stop him?

Ginny took a large white towel and wrapped it around her still-pink skin and opened the door. The steam escaped into the hall, but it evaporated into nothingness before it got very far. She stepped out onto the floor of the hallway and immediately saw something that caused a chill to run down her spine.

There was no tray in front of her door.

With a frown, Ginny rushed forward and stared at the tiny swirls in the wood floor as though they would rearrange themselves to form the expected tray. But there was no change. Slowly, she opened the door to her room and cautiously stepped inside.

Every night for the last six days there had been a cup of tea waiting for her. And now it was missing. She was waiting for Tom to make a move – perhaps this was the beginnings of it.

Quickly Ginny went into her room and shut the door behind her.

"Well now…hello beautiful."

With a small scream, Ginny spun around to find Tom reclining on her bed, his long arms behind his head. As she gripped the towel closer to her body, Tom leisurely moved from this position, first sitting with his legs out and then slowly moving them around to the edge of the bed and standing, all without taking his intense gaze off of Ginny. She quickly realized with surprise that he was wearing muggle clothing again, though now he wore black from head to toe.

He smirked. "Ginevra…you really look quite stunning in that fashion."

She fought back an urge to vomit, and turned towards the door, trying to protect her modesty though feeling sure he must have seen her nude while still living in her head. "Go away, Tom. You know there's nothing you can do to make me fall in love with you, so there's no point in talking like that."

"Ah, but I think that there is…" she heard his movement and tried to move away, but he crossed the room too quickly and she felt a cool finger run up her spine. She tried to spin and shove his arm away, but he suddenly gripped her around the back of the neck and held her still. She felt his hot breath on her right ear for a few seconds before he spoke.

"What if you just pretended to be in love with me?" he whispered, and she felt his fingers running through her damp hair, and then gently pulling those strands behind her ear. "If you pretend you feel something long enough, eventually you will actually feel that way. And in return I'll keep speaking nicely to you, sweet girl."

"I don't like you talking to me like that, so no thanks," Ginny said roughly, pulling the towel tighter around her while water dripped off her hair and skin making a puddle on the pale wood floor.

"It could be much worse," he growled, and Ginny shivered at the pure violence in his voice. "I have been very kind to you, very patient, but my patience is growing thin."

"Then let me go," Ginny insisted, trying and failing to pull herself free from Tom's grip. "I'm never going to fall in love with you, so there's no point in keeping me trapped here with you any longer. Just let me go home if you have no use for me."

"You think you will never love me?" Tom chuckled in her ear. "As long as you are with me, it is only a question of time. In time you will grow to love me…I know it."

"No. I won't."

"As I said, Ginevra, my patience is running dry. Pretend you love me, and things will be easier for the both of us."

"I refuse."

"Are you quite certain?"

"Yes."

She cried out in pain as he flung her across the room. A coffee table got in her way and she fell into it, hitting its surface hard, the towel falling from her hands as she braced herself against the impact. The towel remained around her body, but it was dangerously low.

With a gasp, she turned to face Tom. He towered over her, his dark eyes angrier than she had ever seen them. His hands shook with rage as he took the wand from his blazer pocket.

"Let me give you a taste of what it will be like when I grow tired of waiting for you…" he said. With a flick of his wand, she flew across the room once more, hitting the end of the bed hard. It felt as though her ankles and wrists were restrained to the high footboard, and the towel slowly slipped down, going from a shield for her slim body to a pile of fabric on the floor. Her face was burning, but so were her eyes – burning with the fire of defiance and hatred.

Tom barely seemed to notice her nakedness, except to poke the tip of the wand between her ribs. Ginny winced, but refused to make any sound.

"What are you, anyway?" Tom hissed. "Look at you, wasting away because you can't be in your family nest, or near your precious Harry Potter. You've grown thin and white."

"This happened because of you," Ginny snapped. "Because you isolated me, and drove me mad, and then kidnapped me! What do you expect?"

"I expected some fight to still be in you!" Tom snarled. "I expected you to fight back, and then eventually to see the sense in loving me and giving me that power and becoming my queen! Not this pathetic, useless thing that neither fights nor gives in, but sits there in limbo doing nothing!"

Ginny tried to pull free of her magical restraint, tried to lunge at Tom in rage. "You didn't seem to like it much when I fought you the last time you were in here. You didn't like having to face the fact that you're worthless-"

"I? I am worthless?" Tom moved forward and bent down, putting his face only inches from hers and his eyes at her level. "You sit and do nothing day after day after day, too weak to fight me and too stupid to love me. There is no point to your existence, you pathetic excuse for a witch!"

The worst of the sting these words caused was that he was partially right. What was she doing, reading in this room all the time? What pathetic witch doesn't fight her captor? She was wasting so much valuable time, and for what? To sit there becoming thinner and thinner, slowly wasting away. He may offer her food, but her nerves were too frayed to allow her to eat much of it. Add that to her lack of movement and spirit and energy and…she was really becoming nothing.

She fought the tears, and though she knew he could see them build in her eyes she wouldn't let them fall. There was no fire in her voice when she spoke. "Go to hell, Tom. Just…go and burn in hell."

He slowly straightened, his hands behind his back. He stood tall and towered over her. Ginny wanted to stand tall, too, but knew she would feel even more exposed, so she continued to stand with her back bent, her shoulders and head low.

The next thing Ginny knew was fierce pain and lights in front of her eyes. She screamed, and coughed, and it took a moment before she could see Tom's raised hand and the drops of red blood dripping down onto her white breasts. He had backhanded her, and her lip had broken open.

Carefully, Ginny slowly drew in breath to resist whimpering as her bottom lip throbbed and bled, but there wasn't any time to speak. Tom had brought his face in close again, and he hesitated a moment inches from her face. She looked into his eyes and shuddered at the nothingness she saw there. And then his lips were on hers again, pushing hard and painfully against her cut. She tried to pull back but one of his hands was tangled in her wet hair, keeping her from moving. She tried to pull a hand free again to grab the wand, but she still couldn't move.

There was nothing seductive or heated in this kiss. It was hard and calculated. He moved his lips only over the broken part of hers, causing her wound to burn in pain. When he pulled away, her blood was on his mouth.

"Love me. Love me, or this is just the beginning of it all, and you will know what monster my charming façade is hiding," he said breathlessly.

"No," she said immediately.

He almost looked surprised. "…No? You want more of this treatment?"

"No. It won't make me love you. And no, I will never love you."

She saw Tom's hands begin to shake, and he closed his eyes tight. "Once more, and let me make this clear. If you do not agree to at least pretend to love me, then there will be severe consequences, for you and all those you love."

"No."

"Damn you!" he screamed, and flung the wand at the nearest wall. They both watched it fall to the ground, and Ginny was relieved to see it hadn't broken. "Damn you, love me! Love me or else!"

"No."

"Love me or I will kill Harry Potter!"

Ginny hesitated, swallowed, and said, "No." It was impossible for her to fall in love with Tom, even if she tried. And if Tom was going to kill Harry, he would do it either way.

"LOVE ME!" Tom roared.

"No."

Tom's hand raised again and Ginny flinched, waiting for another impact. But when none came, she looked at him, and saw his hands shaking again. He lowered his arm.

"Very well," he breathed. "You have left me with no other choice."

He turned, collected the wand and left her bedroom, the door closing softly behind him. Ginny's hands and feet were released, and she fell to the floor. She quickly took up the towel and pressed it to her lips, and then got to her feet. Her legs were shaking as she slowly looked around the room. She noticed the tea sitting by the bedside.

Tom was going to kill Harry.

In a moment, Ginny rushed to her dresser and threw on the first clothing she laid her hands on – something Tom evidently wanted to see her in but that she would never wear herself – and rushed out of the room. She intended to block the front door with her body, and to take the wand if she could. She stood by the door waiting for Tom to appear, praying she wasn't too late. A nearby mirror showed her what she was wearing. Black lace-covered shorts, and a pale blue blazer that covered a white shirt that had dark red spots along the front of it. She raised a hand to her mouth and her fingers felt wet blood dripping down her face.

It was in this quiet moment that she began to hear clinking noises coming from the kitchen. With a deep breath, she walked forward, heading into the kitchen with slow, uncertain steps. As she drew closer, she thought she could smell something familiar.

The kitchen was covered with various potion ingredients, and over the top of the stove Tom had set a high-quality cauldron. He was bent over this cauldron now, his hair quickly becoming as wild as Harry's from the spirals of smoke that rose from the surface of whatever potion he was making.

Compelled by curiosity, Ginny moved forward, walking on her bare toes in an attempt to keep from being heard. Tom was stirring the cauldron and muttering something to himself in a language she didn't understand, and she felt sure she could get reasonably close without being noticed. If she was lucky, he may have left the wand on some surface where she could grab it.

As she drew closer, Ginny began to recognize the smells. She could definitely smell the vanilla-and-almond candles she and Harry used to burn as they talked, and maybe that richer smell was the tea with milk and a bit of yak butter her mother used to make for her when she was a child. There was a fresh smell that could possibly be the green of a Quidditch field, and she couldn't be sure of it, but she thought she caught a wiff of the muggle aftershave Harry sometimes used. All these familiar, safe scents drew her in and comforted her, while at the same time making her blood run cold.

A glance at the top of the potion confirmed her horrible suspicions. The potion had a beautiful mother-of-pearl sheen.

"NO!" she screamed, turning to run back up the stairs in terror, but before she could take three steps she found herself again restrained, this time to a wall. She saw Tom glare at her with irritation as he tucked the wand back into his pocket, but she couldn't just wait for the worst to happen, she had to do the only thing she could to defend herself.

She spoke. "No, please, Tom, you don't understand…that potion doesn't create love, it doesn't, it just creates obsession, infatuation, it's not the same thing, it's not-"

"Be quiet," Tom demanded as he picked up a crystal bottle. She watched, sick with fear as he began to fill it.

Whimpering, she continued, "Tom it's not love, it won't do any good, please try to understand. It's not going to make me love you." He continued to calmly fill the potion bottle. "You can't make me take it, Tom! You can't make me drink it! I won't do it, I won't!"

She watched and shook as he finished filling the bottle, and turned and began to walk towards her. With all her might she fought the restraints, and when that didn't work, she begged.

"Please Tom…please…there must be something human in you, something that is capable of mercy…please don't make me drink that. I'm begging you Tom, please don't do this to me," her shoulders shook as she sobbed, and the salt from her tears stung her open lip. "I'll do anything you ask, I'll try to pretend to love you, just don't do this to me. Have mercy! Please, please Tom, please."

He stopped a few feet before her. Her blood was still on his lips as he raised the bottle and held it beneath her nose. "I wonder…" he said slowly, as he moved the bottle and held it under his own nose. "What does it smell like to you?"

"Please…" Ginny whimpered, tears running down her cheeks freely. "Don't do this, Tom. Please."

He reached a finger out and traced the structure of her face with his cold fingertips and all Ginny could do was whimper, having run out of words to convince him to stop this.

And then – he tilted his head back and drank the potion himself.

Ginny's eyes went wide as she watched him swallow, and she wondered if somehow he had switched the potion inside the glass without her noticing. She held her breath and stood there, shaking, waiting. A second went by, and Tom opened his eyes to look at her.

"W-why…why would you do that?" she whispered. She felt an odd sense of relief when his eyes remained cold.

"My kindness doesn't work," he said, his voice level. "My anger doesn't work. Perhaps if I could feign love, that would work."

A new fear filled her, and horrible visions of an even further obsessed and now infatuated Tom filled her head, of the new dangers and horrors that lay ahead of her. She took in a shaking breath as her lips trembled. "And…?"

"And…" he repeated slowly, and they both stood in silence for a few seconds more, both waiting for the sudden, complete change the potion would soon cause. After a minute, Tom turned and threw the empty bottle at the cauldron. She heard the crash of the glass and the thick splash sound of the potion though Tom's back blocked her view. He turned back to her, a look of disgust on his face. "Nothing! Nothing! I feel nothing!"

He removed the wand from his pocket once more and released Ginny from her magical bonds. She looked at him fearfully, ready to turn and run if need be. "You…you don't feel any different?"

"I feel nothing new! It didn't work, it didn't do anything!" Tom shouted angrily, pacing the floor before her. "This was supposed to work! What else am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do now?!"

She knew the question wasn't for her, so she didn't answer. Instead, she watched him pace angrily for a while, and then he brushed past her and went through the entryway and up the stairs. Ginny watched him leave numbly.

Amortentia – the strongest love potion in creation – had no affect on Tom Riddle.

What sort of monster was she trapped with?

Artificial: 'But it is only a question of time. In time you will grow to love me, I know it' is a line from Ken Hill's Phantom of the Opera that I have stolen. So credit where it's due. Please review – you have no idea how helpful and motivating they are for me!