AN: And I'm back. ^.^ The reviews have been inspiring. Now, before I begin, if anyone actually saw this chapter panning out the way it did, review and you'll get a million gold stars and a cookie. When writing the end of the last chapter, I didn't even see this chapter turning out the way it did. As for you readers that aren't reviewing, but like my story, please review. Reviews give me inspiration. They help me make my writing better. Help me help you to have a better reading experience.
My head whipped around and I immediately noticed Malfoy leaning up against the wall near the door.
"I knew you would come here, Weasley. You know, if you wanted to go to a common room, you could have gone to ours." He lazily pushed himself off of the wall and began walking towards me.
"I'm not a bloody Slytherin!" I cried out, scrambling off of the couch, in an attempt to get away. It was proven futile though, when he shoved me back down and pinned me below him.
"What's wrong with Slytherin?" His voice was cold—merciless. "You think we're snakes. You think that we're evil. You ended up in this house too. You might want to think about that for a minute." With each accusation that he made, his grip on my wrists got tighter. Then, suddenly, he pushed himself away, as if disgusted to look at me.
I jumped up off of the couch and reached for my wand, before realizing that I had never got it back.
"Before you decide whether or not you really are a Slytherin, you might do best to actually get to know one of them… or is everyone that has been in Gryffindor too prejudice to see things for yourself?" It was then that he left.
His words stung. I knew what a Slytherin was from my experiences. In my own opinion, I knew what a Slytherin was too well. I didn't belong in that house. I don't hurt people. You did when you were opening the Chamber though. Tom made me do that though. Did he? Yes.
I looked down at my hands, seeing the red on my palms threw me back in time. It was another one of my nightmares. I just killed chickens. I had to write on the wall. NO! Not again. I threw myself out of the nightmare in the only way that I knew how. I asked the room for a knife. It wasn't my knife, but it would do. I let the blade fall onto my wrist; the cut it made was deeper than I wanted, but it didn't matter. I needed to forget. I moved up and made another cut, then another, but the nightmare was still playing through my head.
Why won't it stop? Tears were falling freely down my face and I dropped the knife. I was shaking now. I began to feel light headed, when suddenly, the door to the room was destroyed.
And there was Harry, standing amongst the rubble. I heard a muffled curse, it was like I was under water… then, I blacked out.
…
When I woke up, I felt a little dizzy. I thought about sitting up, but every movement that I made, made it worse.
"You're awake." The voice wasn't the kind voice of Harry's that I had been expecting, but that of T—Voldemort. He didn't sound very happy either… understatement… he sounded pissed. "Now, what did I tell you about…?" He took in a harsh breath. "Did I, or did I not, tell you that you were going to stop."
"I don't really think that it's your decision." It hurt to talk, and my voice came out more like a whisper.
He had his want pointed at me in a matter of seconds, and I winced. "Send in Neville Longbottom." Alecto Carrow came in, pulling Neville by his wrists. "He's your friend isn't he?"
"No." I responded, knowing that Tom was up to something.
"I could always tell when you lied." He pointed his wand away from me and towards Neville. "Crucio."
Neville's screams echoed throughout the room. "Stop it!" I screamed, my voice breaking at the end. "Please!"
Voldemort lifted the curse. "Are you going to respect me, Ginevra?"
"Yes! Just please! Not my friends."
"You won't try to lie to me again."
"Headma—"
"You haven't once called me by my name, Ginevra. Say it."
I closed my eyes, shaking my head. He wasn't Tom. Tom was my friend. He died, and this monster took his place.
"Crucio." Neville fought back screams this time, but I could still hear him whimper.
"Stop! Please stop, Tom." I was standing up now, ignoring how the room span. Tears were streaming down my face.
He lifted the curse. "Take him away." Carrow did just that, leaving the room, closing the door on the way out; I was stuck alone with a monster. "Lie down."
I turned around, about to get back into the bed before my legs collapsed. My arms caught the side of the bed and I laid my face against them. Quiet sobs started leaving my body, and I felt strong arms wrap around me and help me into the bed. A hand began making its way through my hair, trying to calm me down.
"Why do you do this to me?"
"Because no one else will." It was the same answer that he would always give me whenever I question why he was my friend. He used it to talk me into petrifying people. He used it when he told me that he would protect me.
"I'm pretty sure that the Carrows would torture me."
"Ginevra." His voice was soft—concerned, but it also held a trace of a warning. It's an act. He's using you to get to Harry. It's always been about getting to Harry.
"Why won't you just leave me alone?"
"Try to get some sleep, you need it. You lost a lot of blood. If you ever hurt yourself again…" He grabbed a potion off of the table and tipped it into my mouth.
I immediately began to feel drowsy. "But—"
"Sleep. We'll talk later."
That was the last thing that I heard before sleep overtook me.