Author's Note: I have revised this story, as of July 29, 2010. Nothing much has changed, but there were a few (well, more than a few) things that I wanted to correct. I have done this with all of the chapters, and you will see that they have (hopefully) improved. As for an actual update, I am working on it. I know that it's been almost a year since I have updated this story for real, and I know that it's inexcusable, but I have been working on my other stories instead. I just want to finish a chapter for another one of my stories, and then I was planning to start writing Chapter 6 of Danse Macabre Thank you so much for reading!

Prologue

Ginny sprinted down a massive hallway and raced down a few flights of a steep staircase made of stone as if her life depended upon it, which it did. She was running from him, and she did not need to look back to know that he was chasing her, because the heavy thudding sound of his footfalls trailing close behind her bounced off of the cold, gray stone walls, sounding like she was being pursued by several people.

She just could not believe that she had gotten herself into such a big mess.

'Way to go, Ginny. Just bloody fantastic! While I'm at it I might as well raise the basilisk from the dead and open the Chamber of Secrets again,' Ginny thought sarcastically.

She jerked unpleasantly out of her reverie when her right foot shot out from underneath her as she descended another flight of stairs. Ginny tried-and failed-to grab the handrail to steady her in time while emitting a small shriek of surprise, and tumbled down the stairs.

She landed with a sickening crunch and pain immediately shot up her left arm. Fortunately, she was on the fourth or fifth stair from the bottom when she tripped, but she had broken her left wrist, which is never a good thing, especially when being pursued by someone who wishes you bodily harm.

Ginny groaned in pain and swore under her breath. She knew she didn't have the time or the luxury to fix the broken wrist, so Ginny swiftly gathered her Gryffindor courage and made to get to her feet.

Before she could accomplish this completely, however, a foot descended upon her chest, forcing her back to the ground and making her head connect with the hard, stone floor rather painfully. After Ginny had gotten over the shock of being forced suddenly to the ground, she found that the owner of the foot currently pressing down on her chest had their wand jabbed into her neck.

"You know that you cannot run from me, Ginevra. I do not have any idea why you even tried since you should be aware that it is futile to try to escape me. You were very lucky that The Boy Who Won't Die was there to save you in the Chamber of Secrets. There is not anyone here to rescue you now, Ginevra, not even the famous Harry Potter," he taunted venomously with his silky, cold, baritone voice.

Ginny shuddered every time he called her 'Ginevra'. She remembered when she loved that he was the only one who called her that (except for her mother, but that was when she was cross), and how the syllables rolled off his tongue like he was caressing them with his seemingly beautiful but still cold voice. After she found out who he really was and what he was really like, she despised it when he said her name, although it secretly thrilled her when he said it. When she was eleven, it had made her feel adult and sophisticated, and now that she was, in fact, an adult, that never ceased, although it made her feel seductive, in addition to everything else.

"You have absolutely no right to mock my fiancé like that, especially after he has beaten you numerous times. You also don't have the right to call me Ginevra; that was a privilege that you lost years ago, Tom Marvolo Riddle," Ginny declared bravely, trying not wince as he pressed his wand further into her neck as she said this.

Ginny, who had been avoiding his gaze until that point, finally looked up to meet it. To say that Riddle was angry was the understatement of the century. His face would have been extraordinarily handsome had it not been for his facial expression, which was one of extreme loathing and contempt. His already thin lips were pressed into an even thinner line, and his eyes, which were usually dark, expressionless orbs, were livid and a smoldering deep scarlet when she made eye contact with him.

"Foolish girl!" he spat. "I don't give a damn whether I have the right to call you something or not, besides, how dare you order me about! I am Lord Voldemort, and no one ever tells me what to do!"

"For your information, Riddle, I am not a scared, naïve eleven-year-old girl, who you can manipulate and take advantage of anymore no more than I am one of your disgusting followers, who will grovel at your feet and kiss the hem of your robes! And if you expect me to lie down and let you walk all over me, then you are sorely mistaken," Ginny retorted just as venomously

His face contorted even more with rage, if that were possible, and he screeched, "Crucio!"

Ginny screamed at the top of her lungs, her blood-curdling screams echoed and resounded in the room; she had never experienced pain to this magnitude before. She felt like a thousand white-hot knives were stabbing her all over her body simultaneously. She wanted it all to end. She wanted it to stop, but it wouldn't. She felt that death could not come soon enough, and that anything was better than the agony that she was currently feeling. After what seemed like hours to Ginny, but in reality, was only a couple of minutes, Riddle removed the Cruciatus Curse.

She lay there shaking uncontrollably and panting. Her throat felt raw and sore, and, to her utmost horror, she had tears streaming down her face. She hastily wiped the tears away with the back of her right hand and she really hoped that he had not noticed that she had been crying.

She looked up at him again to see if he had noticed. She didn't see anything in his face that made her think he saw her moment of weakness, but she was sure that he had seen it, and was fully expecting him to mock or taunt her about it. Much to her surprise, he did not taunt her about it. She searched his handsome features again to see if she could predict what he was going to do or say next.

The expression on his face led her to believe that he was still furious, but his eyes made her think a little bit differently. Ginny could have sworn she saw a flicker of an unidentifiable emotion in them that seemed almost like pity, but alas, it was gone as quickly as it had come, and his eyes were back to being cold, calculating, and emotionless.

"Are going to behave yourself, or am I going to have to torture you again? Believe you me, that was just a mere taste of the Cruciatus Curse, and I will make last a lot longer than it did last time," Riddle said dangerously.

Although Ginny knew that it was a rhetorical question, she answered it anyway just so that she would get the last word.

"Of course I don't want you to torture me. Do you think that I am a masochist or something? I still stand by what I said before: I will not bow down to you or your will," Ginny responded.

"Hmm… I see. You truly are a Gryffindor through and through: bravery, chivalry, stupidity, and hotheadedness… need I go on?" Riddle mocked, slight amusement glinting in his eyes.

'Merlin, his mood swings are worse than a pubescent teenage girl's with PMS! First, he is beyond angry, the next minute he seems to almost pity me, and the next minute after that, he is amused! Wait a minute-did I just say that Voldemort pities me? I really am going insane. Well… not quite as insane as him, though, I don't think anyone could be that off their rocker, not even Bellatrix Lestrange,' Ginny thought to herself snidely.

"Enough, Ginevra," Tom Riddle said after he had pulled himself from her mind. "I can see that you have not learned your lesson yet, based on your thoughts."

Ginny gasped in horror at this; she had forgotten that he was a master Legilimens and she was mentally hitting herself over the head with a frying pan for her stupidity.

"Crucio," Riddle screamed yet again.

Ginny forced herself not to scream so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her being weak, but she broke and started screaming at the top of her lungs eventually. After a while, Ginny's mind became foggy and she eventually succumbed to the inky depths as she sank into oblivion.

A/N: I'm sorry if this didn't make any sense. Either the prologue is set in the middle of the story or towards the end; I am not sure which yet. If any of this does not make sense, it will be explained later in the story. Please review. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. I will try to get the next chapter up A.S.A.P.