Hush
By Diet Cigarette
The inked signature which lay permanently imbedded in her forearm burned with an incredibly furious pain. To even set eyes upon the tattoo sent quivers of agony through Ginevra's being. She knew she could not avoid him any longer, and in fact, to ignore his demands of her presence would surely enough be suicide upon it's own.
With a deep inhale, she slipped her hoary skull cover atop her eyes, which gleamed dully in the oil lamp's glow. Swiping her wand throw the air in an upward gesture, a crack sounded. She had disappeared.
With a swift step forward, she arrived upon an old rigid cabin in which her master awaited. He had taken refuge in these parts for the mean while, at least for the short period in which it took him to conceive a plan of attack. A year after Dumbledore had fallen at Severus's hand, Harry close to destroying the Dark Lord, but, He, himself, would have a say in it. No matter the consequences, eve at the lives of his followers.
Ginny was so hopeful; a girl with such optimism. It was almost a shame to see her go. Ginevra, however, knew, good would not conquer. They had once, and they may possibly again, but with magic, there are endless possibilities to see that Voldemort would live to see the Earth's death. And in these circumstances, it was best that she assured her place beside the man, that she believed, would soon have impeccable power over the Magical world.
Draco had once told her- Draco. Her second thoughts interrupted the first. She had not put much thought into that certain young man but she could not entirely apprehend his behavior. The night before, he touched her in a way she could have never imagined him doing such things. In fact, the thought of him even conceiving thoughts of Ginevra in a sexual way were ones the laugh upon.
Knocking upon the decrepit and molded door, it was soon answered by a familiar face. An aging man opened the door just slightly, leaving a few inches for his face to fit through. He was tall, and built, towering over her petite frame. A goatee covered his jaw, with noticeable gray hairs prickling at the ends. Dark hair messily covered his hair, ending upon the nap of his neck; He grinned, his yellow tinted teeth upon display.
"Just let me in, Avery," Her words were icy, and it was clear she was uninterested in any games he had in mind.
"Ah, but Miss Weasley," His gruff voice drawled slightly. She cut him off, avoiding any more interferences.
"I'm going to be late," She growled, her eyebrows furrowing in anger, "And to be perfectly honest, I'm not in the bloody mood for a Cruciatus." His eyebrows raised in unimpressment, his eyes dropping with boredom.
"And?" He dispassionately inquired.
"Bombarda!" She cracked, taking witness to the door ahead bursting through. It took flight, hurling backwards and knocking the older man back with it until he collided with the floor. The wooden plank fragmented the wall just a few yards forward. She was regretful to use such forceful measures, but Avery had always caused her havoc during such meetings. He had never favored her assistance to Voldemort, nor did she to him.
She strolled past the doorway, and made her way towards the basement steps in which she had visited only three weeks before.
The area below was sunless and somber. Her eyes were forced to strain in order to find every approaching step. From above, she could faintly hear the exasperated grunts of her rival, Avery. He was quickly placed out of her mind, and she continued her pace until finally arriving upon the chilled and foul concrete floor of the cellar.
The surplus death eaters were huddled in a circle around the Dark Lord, himself. Shadowed cloaks hung their head low as his slithering voice threatened and schemed, pointing and prodding at his advocates in order to get their up most consideration.
With one seemingly step, his head sprung up to attention, his eyes staring her down menacingly whilst she came forth.
"My lord," She greeted, bowing her head as she fell into line. She dared not look up, to meet his hateful glare.
"Ginevra," He hissed. She could see the bottom of his ebony robes advancing toward her placement.
"Yes, my lord?" She inquired, a hint of fear not even pinching her chords as she stood rigidly, awaiting her fait.
"How amazing for you to join us. We were just speaking of you, weren't we?" He turned his head to face the circle of around 20 men and woman. Ginevra assumed all the death eaters had not been summoned tonight, only a selected few.
Ginevra remained silent, without a word emitting her stiff lips. She unconsciously prepared to be cursed in the next few seconds by clenching her jaw, and tightening her hands into fists. When she did not receive impact, she lifted her head just slightly to watch his actions.
"I've been informed that your precious lover, Potter," His words stung at her insides as she fought to remain without expression, "Has found the last one of my, pieces.. You are aware that he's soon to destroy the last of them, aren't you? Luckily, you see, he is very cautious on going about this, he wouldn't kill his own friend immediately, would he? Well, my dear," He spoke swiftly as he strolled forward, standing only inches from her position.
"Yes, M'lord?" She wondered, as he placed his pale white finger tops below her chin, lifting so that she was forced to look into his eyes from behind the mask she wore. Using his other and free hand, he motions it slowly near her cheek, causing her uniform cover to disappear in a matter of thin, glossy smoke.
He seemed to ignore her question for further information, as he lifted his head up to the ceiling and crackled maliciously. "I remember it so clearly," He raised his hand to place his index finger below her chin, lifting slightly so that she was forced to look into his red and hollow eyes that reminded her so much of simply colored holes inside his skull.
"I can see it all so clearly, you see, Ginevra, like your disgusting parents, the Longbottoms were of pure blood yet, of unhonorable views of the wizarding world." A spark of sick amusement twinkled in his expression as he continued on, "Before Potter exiled me into my own hell for a little over a decade, I had other suspects, other children that could possible be the cause of my demise. The one you know as Neville, yes?" He inquired, and she nodded in agreement.
"I know of him," She replied shortly, the subject growing more touchy. She loathed the subject of her past being brought up. She despised anything to do with her time at Hogwarts and Ginny.
"It was magical to just see the look of pain upon his ol'folks faces," She heard a comment come from behind her Master, she suspected it had came from the aging Bellatrix.
He nodded, a lipless smile curving upon his features, "Tortured, they were, to an insane degree," Ginevra believed he thought he was speaking humorously, but she had to silently disagree. "But that's beside the point, as my dearest Bella and her husband, Rodolphus kept his despicable little mum and dad busy, I had my chance, my chance to take the boys life, unfortunately, some ancient fool decided otherwise, charging in with a gruff and pointing his splintering wand at me. At me," He emphasized,
"I had no choice but to kill him on the spot, but the boy, oh, that fat sobbing mess, I spared him for the pure sake of using him. A baby, a baby does not have memory, my dear, a baby would never remember some incredible man bestowing such an amazing honor upon him, would he?" He stopped, his pallid face sliding forward. With their cheeks brushing against each other, he brought his lips to her ear, and a soft whisper could be heard,
"Neville has part of my soul, I want him here. Get him from Potter,"
"Master," Ginevra at last had her chance to speak, as he pulled away to furrow his eyebrows upon her upcoming opinion. "How am I to get close when Potter knows you are so dear to me?" She was careful with her words, making sure that he was complimented in every sentence she spoke.
A cliché Slytherin smirk appeared upon his face, his haunting eyes filled with laughter. "I don't care, just do it,"
She growled in frustration, stalking upon the iron winding staircase that was located in the center of the parlor.
"And just how am I expected to get back into Harry's lap?" She questioned mostly herself, but with the change in motion in her consciousness, she was well aware of Draco's presence.
"Propose a dirty weekend?" His gruff voice spoke with a tint of malicious humor as he casually strolled in from the depths of the fireplace in which they flooed. Gracefully sitting down, his pale indigo eyes stalked her as she stood in the corner with one hand upon her hip, the other whipping her nervous forehead.
"Fuck you,"
"You're still in love with him, aren't you?" He chuckled, a small grin appearing with his laughter. She angrily furrowed her eyebrows, looking away so that he may not have access to gaze upon her emotional expressions. With that, he stopped and pierced his lips, watching her intently, a more serious tone attaching itself to his voice, "Listen, Weasley, whether you like it or not, you're not Ginny anymore. You gave that little filth of an identity up. Now, leave it to rot. Harry doesn't love you as Ginevra, get over it. Get over it or he'll kill you, forgive me for being honest,"
His advice stung her internally, but he was right. Tonight Ginny had appeared in her emotions, something that she had worked so entirely hard from happening. It was time to start taking control of her body, life, and feelings now. Once and for all.
I hate to end it here, but the fourth chapter will be out in a bit to explain further. Oh! And next will have Draco and Gin fluff, well, as fluffy as evil can get, am I right:D