He didn't say anything for a moment, which was good and bad: Ginny didn't want to hear exactly what he was planning to do with her, but she always felt the need to break awkward silences—and standing in a room alone with Voldemort staring at her was most definitely awkward...and terrifying.
He studied her minutely, an inscrutable expression on his snake-like face before he finally murmured, "It's wearing off."
Ginny didn't know what "it" was, and didn't really want to know, so instead of asking what he meant by that she just endured the tense silence that filled the tent once more.
He looked at her once more before taking a seat in a plush-looking chair, motioning to the one across from it. Am I just supposed to sit down? She wondered. What is this, tea time?
"Please, sit," he requested, motioning again to the chair across from him. "I suppose you're wondering what you're doing here."
Ginny shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant as she sat, shifting about restlessly; under any other circumstance, the chair would have been so comfortable she could have fallen asleep. In Voldemort's presence, it felt lumpy and rigid. "Not really. More wondering why I'm not dead yet."
A small smile formed on his slit of a mouth. "I can assure you, if you were to be killed it would have happened already."
Ginny frowned. "Then, yes. What am I doing here?"
Voldemort's smile grew.
---OoOoOoO---
Ginny sat in the tent she had woken up in, her head held wearily in her hands. She felt like passing out and vomiting at the same time, which probably wasn't something that should happen. If it were to happen, she hoped that she threw up first so she wouldn't drown. What a way to die: surrounded by Death Eaters and the most evil wizard alive and Ginny would die choking on her own puke.
A knock sounded as someone entered her tent. She didn't lift her head. "Who is it and what do you want?" she snapped, her voice slightly muffled by her hands.
"It's Draco Malfoy, Mistress Ginevra, and I—"
Ginny's head snapped up. "What did you just call me?"
Malfoy shifted, a strange look on his features. It was apparent that he felt very awkward. "Mistress Ginevra? I just—"
Ginny gave a huff of amused laughter, taking a deep breath as she looked away and met his eyes again. By the look on his face, she knew that she had achieved the deadly serious look she was going for. "Don't call me that."
"What, uh," Malfoy shifted uncomfortably once again, "what would you like me to call you, ma'am?"
Ginny stared at him, an incredulous look etched across every inch of her face. "For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, I'm younger than you are! And anyways it shouldn't much matter, should it? I wasn't aware that we were on speaking terms."
Malfoy glanced over his shoulder and took another step inside the tent. "Things are a bit different now, ma'am."
"Don't call me ma'am," Ginny snapped at him, her amusement with him turning quickly to annoyance. "Nothing has changed."
"With all due respect, I beg to differ."
A small smile appeared on Ginny's face. "So this is what it must be like for you—that is really the only reason anyone "respected" you at all at school, am I right?" Ginny actually formed the quotation marks as she mocked him.
"I thought perhaps you would like to talk, go for a walk, maybe?"
This wasn't right…was Draco Malfoy actually nervous?
Ginny sighed. "I could use some air," she stood and followed him out of the tent.
"Eighteen years ago," Voldemort had started.
Not tea time, story time, Ginny had thought.
"Shall I just call you Ginevra, then?" Malfoy asked after a minute or so of walking through the tents in the cool night air.
"Ginny is fine," she replied.
He gave her a long, sideways look. "I'll just call you Ginevra."
"It was eighteen years ago that I lost all of my powers, was stripped from my body, and forced to wander the Earth as something lower than a spirit."
"I know all this," Ginny interrupted. Voldemort ignored her.
"How are you coping with it then? I imagine it feels like something sort of a dream to you, doesn't it?" Malfoy asked after another long stretch of silence.
Ginny stared at the starry sky, meandering slowly, forcing Malfoy to slow his pace as well. "More of a nightmare."
"So—you're a Healer, then, eh?"
Ginny glanced away from the beautiful sky to Draco Malfoy's pale form, which glowed ethereally in the light of the full moon. "Are you trying to make small talk, Draco Malfoy?"
"But you're only eighteen," he continued, ignoring her comment. "And you're working at St. Mungo's. I thought one had to have at least a year of training…or are you just that good?" he questioned, looking over at her and raising an eyebrow.
Ginny felt slightly amused and smiled. "My seventh year I asked Dumbledore if I could only take Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts so I could train with Madam Pomphrey for the year. With everything being so hectic and whatnot, I figured it would be smarter to save some time. I guess Dumbledore and Pomphrey felt the same way, because they allowed it, and St. Mungo's admitted me shortly after I left Hogwarts."
"You believe him though, right? I mean it definitely seemed like a stretch to me, but the evidence is all there…" apparently Malfoy wasn't very interested in how she had become a mediwitch.
Ginny sighed, wishing he would just shut up. If she were to be having any conversation with Draco Malfoy, she didn't want it to be that one. "How can I? And how can I not?"
She looked up at the moon once again, wishing she could turn into a bat and fly away from all of this.
"It was nineteen years ago that I produced an heir, something only few of my followers knew at the time."
Ginny stared at him. "What does this have to do with me?"
Again, she was ignored as Voldemort continued, "Someone to carry on with my mission, to inherit my power, were anything to happen to me, though I never really anticipated that anything would."
They had come to a river that twisted through the campsite. Ginny sat down on the edge of the riverbank and Malfoy sat next to her in silence. Staring into the water, she could see a replica of the starry night sky. The moon shivered and settled once again as Ginny pulled up some grass and tossed it at the glassy surface.
"But the ceremony couldn't be performed until my heir was one year of age, and so, my powers dissipated. When news reached the public, someone acted selfishly and took my heir—the mother had been obtained by Aurors and sentenced to life in Azkaban."
Ginny wondered vaguely what kind of twisted, desperate woman would sleep with Voldemort and bear his child.
"My child was handed off to Albus Dumbledore, who placed a glamour on her and put her in a place where she would never learn the truth."
"I still don't understand why you're telling me all of this," Ginny interrupted, though her stomach was twisting ferociously inside her, and her mind got fuzzier the more he talked. She didn't like where this was going…
"My heir," Voldemort replied after a minute,
"It's one of those things you just have to accept, you know? And why shouldn't you? Think of how everything will be! It's an amazing opportunity for you….to live a life you've always dreamed of?"
"is you."
"I never dreamed of being Voldemort's daughter," Ginny argued, staring him down. He shrugged after a minute and looked away.
"No, a mistake has not been made. You are indeed my daughter, Ginevra."
Ginny tried to close her mouth. She wanted to rebut his argument, but could find no words other than, "So who's my mother then?"
---OoOoOoO---
Ginny didn't sleep that night. She laid in her plush bed, wide awake, listening to the wind howl around her tent.
"It's wearing off," he had said. At first Ginny hadn't understood, but as he told his story she had come to realize that he had meant the glamour that had been placed on her. It's wearing off.
She got up and moved over to the mirror on her ornate vanity, staring hard at her image, her eyes straining to see in the dark. Her hair was beginning to look more auburn than red, and the freckles that had once covered her entire face now only sprinkled her nose and cheekbones.
Good riddance, she thought. She had always despised her freckles. But as she stared into her dark eyes, which had once been a beautiful shade of rich brown, terror gripped her.
I don't even know what I look like...or who I really am...
Was it possible that she shared her parents' twisted, sadistic nature and hadn't even realized it?
Can a glamour hide one's soul as well? she contemplated. Is that why I've never wanted to torture or kill something? And if so, what happens to my soul when the glamour is gone? She feared what she would become when the spell wore off completely.
Voldemort's daughter. The heir to his powers, the Death Eaters--everything. If that were true, it would mean that if Voldemort was killed, she would be in charge.
If she accepted the Dark Mark. Surely he wouldn't bestow his powers unto someone unless he was sure they would continue on with "the cause".
And if that were the case (though Ginny hoped she was strong and clever enough to resist this without being killed) that would mean that if Harry were to succeed, she would have to oppose him.
There might be a way to trick him into giving up his power without turning to the Dark Side...but then what would she do? She could order the Death Eaters to stand down so she could set the Wizarding World right again, but it's not as if they'd even listen to her if she did.
In all likelihood they could raise up in a mutiny and kill her, and then everyone would be screwed. What would happen to the powers then? Would they dissipate as they did before? Or would Voldemort be clever enough to think ahead this time and choose a second heir, in case Ginny didn't follow through after his death (that is, still, if he could be killed. Ginny knew he was aiming for immortality, and wasn't quite sure how close he'd come).
Damned if I do and damned if I don't, Ginny thought in dismay, breaking her gaze away from her dark, cold eyes. And I'll be damned if I'm not stuck between a rock and a hard spot on this one.
Voldemort's daughter. The concept alone was enough to make Ginny grimace, and, though she wished she could fight this with all of her might, she found her case against them shrinking more and more with each piece of evidence they threw at her.
Would he let me just walk away? Or would he stop me? Would he force me to join them? Or just kill me?
"Where are you going?"
Ginny stopped walking and turned to the voice in the darkness behind her. Where was she going? She hadn't even realized that she had left her tent. "What?"
Draco Malfoy sauntered towards her, hands in his pockets. "It's the middle of the night--where are you going?"
Ginny looked Malfoy up and down. "So if it's true then...about...them...you and I are--"
"Cousins," Draco supplied with ease. Clearly he had thought about that before.
"Hmm," Ginny looked him over once more. Shame--the thought had passed through her mind so fast that she wasn't even sure where it had come from.
"You can go see him," he said after a minute of silence. "I know that's where you were going and it's okay--he doesn't sleep."
Ginny looked at Draco in silence for a minute before nodding. "I suppose he wouldn't need to," she contemplated after a minute.
"Do you remember the way?"
Ginny looked around her and shook her head. "No, actually. I was hardly aware that I was walking."
Draco nodded. "I know that feeling. Brain so full of muck that you can't even see what's around you--"
"--and what you can see is all hazy and distorted," Ginny added breathlessly, taking a few steps towards him. "And the world is whizzing around you uncontrollably--"
"--and you're left standing still," he finished.
Ginny stared at him, hoping her expression didn't mirror the amazement she felt with him at the moment. "And at the same time everything is slow--"
"--like a dream--"
"--and everything has just sort of--"
"--lost its color," he finished for her.
Ginny nodded, her eyes stinging with tears. "Yeah."
Draco wore an equally intense expression. Ginny felt that he had just been looking into her soul--could he be feeling the same thing?
"It really scares you, doesn't it? The truth, I mean."
She pulled her eyes away from his and stared at the ground. "I just...don't want to be like...like them."
"Don't you?" Ginny looked up, and felt suddenly exposed--his eyes were searching her. "Are you sure about that?"
Ginny snorted. "Positive."
"Really?" Draco asked, mostly to himself because he never gave her a chance to answer. "Would you like me to take you there?"
Ginny stared blankly at him for half of a minute before realizing what he meant. "Would you? I want to get this over with so I can just go."
"You're leaving?" Ginny couldn't tell whether his voice was laced with interest or alarm.
"Well you can't expect me to just stay here forever, can you? I have a job--a whole life--back in London and I'd like to get back to it as soon as possible," Ginny decided that she just imagined the look of offense and disappointment that had flitted across Draco Malfoy's face.
"Well," he breathed when they had reached Voldemort's tent. "Good luck, then. I hope you get what you want," he turned and walked away before she could say anything more. Instead of thinking about his words, which seemed to echo distantly in her mind, she knocked on the door of the tent. (A/N: Yeah, confusing I know, but there has to be some way to request entrance--I mean you can't just walk on in to Voldy's tent and then ask to enter, pssh!)
He bid her entrance and enter she did, to find him standing over a large map of Wales. To her amusement, Voldemort had little figures of himself and his Death Eaters placed strategically around the area.
"Taking over Wales, eh?" Ginny studied the map with an eyebrow raised. "Don't you think that's a bit ambitious?"
She looked up to find that an amused smirk had formed on that snake-like face of his, and was silently relieved that he had a sense of humor.
"Shouldn't you be starting with the rest of the Wizarding World before you start with the muggles?"
"What's left of the Wizarding World? The Ministry, in case you hadn't noticed, has already crumbled at the mere thought of going up against me."
Ginny nodded, turning to the map once more--she didn't like looking at him. "I had noticed. Who couldn't? Our world is in complete chaos."
"Not our world," Voldemort corrected. "Theirs, yes. They don't know what they want--someone to defend them or rule them--it can't be both, you know. They have no organization, no system at all. Their world is chaos, ours is not."
"They have the Order," Ginny whispered after a minute of thinking on his words. "And they're doing everything they can to stop you."
"And failing miserably, aren't they?" Voldemort's hand found Ginny's chin and raised it so that her eyes met his. "The Wizarding World doesn't need a secret organization, they need a leader--and that is exactly what I'm providing them with."
"They don't want that kind of leader," Ginny said softly, staring hard into evil, red eyes. She didn't know why she was arguing, but she hoped to Merlin that it wasn't making him angry.
"They'll take whatever kind of leader they can get," he spat. "Once we've finished off the Order of the Phoenix and squashed out the last of the rebellion, they'll be looking for someone to unite them--and that is exactly what I plan on doing."
Ginny pulled away and turned to the bookshelves, studying the books that occupied them, some of which looked pretty interesting. "You can't rule the world, it's not a viable goal."
"I can do anything," Voldemort stated softly after a minute of tense silence. "Even death could not stop me, it only delayed my plans."
"You can't kill Harry," Ginny closed her eyes, wishing she hadn't let that last little thought slip out. She turned, expecting to find him enraged and ready to punish, but he merely brushed her statement off with a wave of his hand.
"You did not come to me at one o'clock in the morning to discuss politics. Was there something you needed?"
She looked at him warily. "Just wanted to tell you that I'm going home. I have a job and life in London that's missing me right now. And I might be back...and, and I might not," she found her confidence growing and brought her chin up--she imagined she might look something like Malfoy when he was speaking to someone he considered below him.
"You'll come back," it wasn't a threat, but a fact. "But go, if you wish," he turned back to his map and his little figures, that, Ginny noticed, were now moving, acting out some kind of battle.
She turned, heading towards the door when his voice rang out behind her once more.
"Ginevra."
Ginny looked back at him, her hand resting on the doorknob.
"Know that you are always welcome here."
Ginny nodded and exited the tent. She looked around at the many tents that made up their little campsite. A small smile played on her lips. The Order would just love this, she thought, studying her surroundings.
But somehow part of her knew that, for some reason, she wasn't going to tell the Order about any of it.
Not yet, at least. Ginny thought as her gaze met Draco's across the clearing. He was leaning against a tree, watching her. When their eyes met he turned and walked away.
Not yet. Ginny thought again. She took one last deep breath of the clean night air and Apparated to her flat, a heavy feeling of guilt and curiousity twisting in her stomach.
She shuffled into her bedroom and collapsed on top of the covers, not bothering to get undressed.
It was the best sleep she'd ever had.
---OoOoOoO---
Go on, go on: Tell me how sick and twisted and wonderful and amazing I am. hehe! Review please! Sorry for spelling and grammar mistakes, my Word is being dumb so I have to write in the little document preview screen. Ta!