A few days later, Draco suddenly looked towards the door from his perch on a nook in the wall. He jumped to his feet and stood infront of my cage with his arms crossed. The man who took me from Azkaban swept into the room.
"Let down the Façade, Draco. I know you were sitting." He said, grinning, Draco smirked back at him, and went to sit on the wooden bench infront of my cell. I stood by the bars, hooking my fingers through, trying to show I wasn't intimidated by the tall, strikingly handsome man before me. I felt as if I recognized him from somewhere, just like in Azkaban. He towered over me, coming to stand close to the bars. He eyed me.
"Draco, has miss Weasley exhausted her stay in the cell?"
"Yes, Miss Weasley is ready to go home." I cut in, knowing that it couldn't possibly work. He exhaled, and said,
"I don't believe that I asked you."
"Well, it isn't up to Draco." He barked a laugh.
"Well it certainly isn't up to you."
"You had better let me out of here, or else…" I growled. He grinned evilly.
"Or else what, Miss Weasley, young Potter will come and save you? Draco already told me that he broke up with you in your fifth year." He looked at me with false pity, and I snapped, just like I always did when someone talked about Harry.
"You can't possibly think that you could ever defeat him. He's the most powerful wizard of our time, learned everything from Dumbledore. He was his apprentice in many ways, and there's no way that you'd be able to defeat Albus Dumbledore." He was still smiling down at me.
"Well, we see where your loyalties are now. My predecessor already defeated Dumbledore, the old fool. You had better watch your tounge around me, or else I'll be forced to show you your place."
"Ah yes, my place, I was wondering when that would come up. So what am I going to be, a torture victim? A death eater whore? Tell me, sir, what will I be?" I asked with false enthusiasm. He whipped out his wand in a blur, and the next thing I was skidding backwards away from the bars. I cracked my head painfully on the stone wall at the back of my cell, and looked up at him. He was visibly fuming, which confused me. What was up with this guy?
"Tell me something Ginny, how are your brothers, Fred and George? Are they still bullying you like they were in first year?"
"No…" I said, not in denial, but disbelief.
"Oh, and the famous Harry Potter, it seems that he did end up liking you, didn't he? Just like how you wanted it way back then."
"Stop it." I said quietly.
"And Ron? Your big brother Ron? Is he being nicer to you now? I see that your family still doesn't have enough money to buy you new robes like you wanted when you were eleven."
"STOP IT!" I shrieked, and jumped to my feet. "No, you are not him! You aren't Tom!" For a second, he dropped his angry face, and replaced it with the smile he used when he persuaded me to do those awful things, and I crumpled to the floor.
"That's me, Ginny. Tom Marvolo Riddle, the dashing boy from the diary in your first year."
"No, no, no, no." I moaned to myself.
"Draco, Miss Weasley will be serving me as a personal servant until she learns what it is to be staying here." Draco stared at him. 'Something wrong, Malfoy?" Tom demanded. Draco shook his head, and stood. Tom looked at me one last time, and disappeared out the door.
"He has other girls for this." Draco muttered to himself, and opened the door. I made to bolt, but he grabbed me by the upper arm, hard enough to bruise. He pulled me along behind him, down corridors and hallways, around corners, until I was sure I wouldn't have been able to find my way there from the dungeons. He pulled open a door, and thrust me in. He closed it behind him. "You aren't the only human slave that death eaters have. Many of the others are abused, though." He transfigured a bundle of clothes out of thin air, and handed them to me. "Put those on."
"They have a uniform?" I asked, close to laughing with hysteria.
"Yes." He said, without smiling, and I giggled nervously. "I'll wait out in the hall. Open the door when you're done changing, and give me the old clothes. If you take more than three minutes, I'm coming in. All of the windows are locked." I sighed, and nodded. I closed the door behind him, and looked at the clothes. Nice for servants, really, but I suppose most of the others weren't only used to do house work. A dark grey skirt and a green blouse, with the dark mark on the breast pocket. I rolled my eyes. Typical to have a green shirt. Draco had even supplied me with shoes. Plain black flats that adjusted to my size when I put them on. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun with the pony-tail tie I still had from the night I was taken. I opened the door for Draco, and he hurried in. He took one look at my face, and grimaced.
"What?" I asked defensively.
"Wash your face atleast. The bathroom's just through that door." I rushed to the bathroom, and looked in the mirror. I repeated Dracos grimace. I had dirt and grime all over my face. I put my face under the tap and scrubbed. I looked in the mirror, and was content with the cleanliness. I dried off with a towel, and flicked off the light.
"Is this…his room?" I asked Draco, studying the floor.
"Yeah. It is."
"Where am I staying?" I asked hopefully.
"With him. In here." My hopes were dashed.
"In his bed?" I squeaked, and he shrugged. "Should I start…cleaning?"
"May as well. I don't know what else he wants you to do." I gulped. "I'll be out in the hall." He said quickly, and made his escape. I sighed, and turned to survey the room. Despair washed over me, and I swallowed down the lump in my throat. May as well make the best out of it, I figured, and went to make the bed.