“I might let you keep them. I might kill them,” Voldemort announced, talking about the girls. “You know what’s going to happen to the boys.” The room was filled with chuckling, and Ginny looked questioningly at Blaise, who just smirked at her, much like Draco would. “You have served me well today; now you may go to your rooms.”
“Thank-you, my Lord,” the entire group of women and men Death Eaters boomed in unison. They rose and began to leave; those who had girls with them pulled them to their feet and dragged them along. Again, Ginny didn’t struggle, but walked briskly beside Blaise. She knew she would get there anyway, and she didn’t want to stretch the process any longer than necessary. Being around Voldemort made her nervous, even if his younger self, Tom Riddle, had not.
They came to Blaise’s room, which turned out to be a very large un-used classroom right next to the former Gryffindor dormitory. It didn’t look like a classroom any more. It was a very lavishly furnished room with dark wood, and a lot of rich green on the bed. Blaise closed the door with a final echoing click.
“Eager to get here, were you?” he asked cockily.
“What do you want with me, Zabini?” she asked angrily. He just smirked more and started to walk towards her. “Just stay away from me,” she told him.
“Relax Ginny,” he said in a low purring voice as he got closer and closer to her. She hadn’t realized that she was backing away from him until she hit a wall. “You know, you look really sexy when you’re scared,” he said in the same voice, now with half-lidded eyes.
“Please…” she pleaded. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t you want it?”
“No,” she said again.
He sighed heavily, turned around, and ran his hands through his black hair. “Relax, Weasley, I’m not going to if you don’t want me to,” he said. “Not that I don’t want to,” he said cockily. “You’re not mine; you’re Draco’s.”
“I’m not Draco’s!” she said angrily. “I don’t belong to anybody.” He chuckled. “What’s so funny?”
“Look around, Weasley,” he said, laughing and drawing out his wand to conjure a case of brandy. “You’re a prisoner of war. And you belong to Draco.” There was a long pause while he drank and she thought.
“Before you’re entirely shit-faced, will you answer just one question I have? Please?” she asked hopefully.
“That depends, what will you do for me?” he asked, while arching his eyebrows in a very Draco way.
“What do you want?” she asked skeptically.
“Sex,” he said with a smirk.
“I would never have sex with you!”
“Then there is something else that you could do for me,” he said slyly.
“And you’ll answer my question?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you want?”
“Just go down on me, that’s all.”
“I--I…Continue getting smashed,” she said shakily.
“I will,” he said while laughing and taking another huge swig of brandy.
Blaise is a bastard, but I could have it much worse. Poor Hermione. Or Luna, when she… tears welled up in her eyes and Ginny stopped herself; she wouldn’t think about Luna and what happened to her. Blaise was completely drunk now.
“C’mon, Ginny,” he slurred, “you know you want it.”
“Stop it, Zabini!” she said as he chased her around the room.
“I tried to be nice, Ginny!” he yelled. “But nothing works with you!” His voice was escalating rapidly. He easily caught her and pinned her against the wall. She winced. “Will you?!” he yelled. She shook her head and he slapped her hard across the face. She whimpered and tried to turn away from him. He punched her in the stomach and she tried to double over but he wouldn’t even permit her that. He let her go and backhanded her, causing her to land on the ground. Blood spilled from her lip onto cold stone floor. He kicked her and she balled up. He kicked her over and over as she tried to get away.
She cried, and her salty tears mixed with the blood and dirt on her skin. “Please… Blaise… please,” she coughed out along with some blood. He stopped. He sobered immediately at the sight of the bloody mess in front of him. But mostly it was her voice choking out his name that made him notice the damage he had done. Then, everything went black again.
Ginny opened her eyes slowly. She was still lying on the stone floor. She was sore all over, but nothing felt broken and she could move easily. There was blood caked on her face and a little bit in her hair. She stood and walked over to the bed where Blaise was sleeping. She looked for his wand, but couldn’t find it anywhere. She remembered the night before vividly and was so angry that she walked right up to the side of the bed and slapped him hard across the face.
His eyes snapped open as she began to walk away from his bed. His hand darted out and grabbed her wrist, spinning her around. He pulled her to him quickly and hard enough so that she fell on top on him. “I fucking healed you, didn’t I?” he asked angrily.
“Let go of me,” she replied.
“No, you need to learn not to disrespect your betters.”
“Let go of me.”
“Don’t make me hit you again,” he threatened. He didn’t want to hit her, just like he didn’t mean to the first time, but it was too late to be nice. He rose his hand as if to smack her, but he instead let go of her wrist and pushed her to the ground hard. He got out of bed and towered over her. “I’m not going to warn you again.”
“I need to clean the blood off myself,” she said in a small voice as he looked down at her menacingly.
“Yes,” he said, after thinking for a second. “There’s a bathroom over there,” he said, pointing his wand at the wall and causing a door to appear. She got up and began to walk over to the door. She slowly began to close it and he didn’t object.
Once the door was closed, she leaned back against it and sank to the ground in temporary relief. Blaise didn’t scare her when he was like this, but his threats now held meaning after last night. She remembered that she was in there to clean the blood off herself and walked to the sink. She saw just how beat up she was in the mirror. He had healed her broken bones and bad cuts, but he hadn’t bothered with the bruises and little cuts on her face.
She turned on the taps of the sink and began splashing some water up into her face. The caked blood began to come off, creating a deep red in the sink. Soon her face was clear of blood and she began working on her hair.
“Take a shower while you’re in there; you never know when Draco’s coming back,” Blaise called from the other room. She noticed a shower that she hadn’t thought was there before. Zabini must have made it appear, she mused as she began removing her dirty clothing. After her shower, she noticed that her clothes were no longer on the floor where she left them.
“Really funny, Zabini!” she yelled. “Give me my clothes!” A green robe appeared on a hook by the shower. “C’mon, Zabini, please give me my clothes!” she called again. There was no answer, so she slipped on the robe and wiped some steam off the mirror. Her black eye had faded, as had the little cuts. Where are all my bruises? She removed the robe to examine the skin on her arms and stomach. Surely enough, there were deep purple bruises there, and what’s more, her black eye had returned, along with the cuts. She ran her hand over her eye and the little ruptures.
She brought her hand to the mirror and touched it with one finger, as if it could be the mirror that was making her body react so weirdly. It was cold, very cold. To her shock, the mirror began to ripple around her finger. The ripples were small, but they began to get bigger as her finger slowly sunk into the glass, engulfing her finger in harsh cold. What’s going on!? What’s wrong with this mirror!
“Ginny!” Blaise yelled. “Get out here right now!” She tore her finger from the mirror. Her bruises and cuts disappeared, but she didn’t notice because she was busy picking the robe up off the ground. She made sure that she was thoroughly covered by the robe before leaving the bathroom.
The chair across the room was turned around and clearly occupied because of the pointy wizard hat that could be seen peeking above the high chair-back. “Zabini…” she said shakily, moving closer to the chair. There was no answer and she stopped walking. “Who’s there?” she asked in the same way, holding her ground. Still no answer.
The man rose from the chair. She gasped but did not falter as she looked him straight in the eyes, eyes whose expression had not changed since she met him in her first year at Hogwarts.
Lord Voldemort stood before her. She did not cower as some would before him; she just looked with stony eyes on his aged appearance. Not that he was extremely old, but he was considerably older than the last time she had seen him. He was no longer Tom Riddle.
From his shiny black shoes to the Sorting Hat sitting on top of his head he radiated evil. Still she held her ground and refused to cower.
“Ginevra,” he said softly in a deep voice, “it is wonderful to see you again.”
She steeled herself, steadied her voice. “Lord Voldemort,” she said coldly and placidly.
A/N: Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it. Draco will be coming in soon, so don't fear. Anyway, pretty please, review! :)
“Thank-you, my Lord,” the entire group of women and men Death Eaters boomed in unison. They rose and began to leave; those who had girls with them pulled them to their feet and dragged them along. Again, Ginny didn’t struggle, but walked briskly beside Blaise. She knew she would get there anyway, and she didn’t want to stretch the process any longer than necessary. Being around Voldemort made her nervous, even if his younger self, Tom Riddle, had not.
They came to Blaise’s room, which turned out to be a very large un-used classroom right next to the former Gryffindor dormitory. It didn’t look like a classroom any more. It was a very lavishly furnished room with dark wood, and a lot of rich green on the bed. Blaise closed the door with a final echoing click.
“Eager to get here, were you?” he asked cockily.
“What do you want with me, Zabini?” she asked angrily. He just smirked more and started to walk towards her. “Just stay away from me,” she told him.
“Relax Ginny,” he said in a low purring voice as he got closer and closer to her. She hadn’t realized that she was backing away from him until she hit a wall. “You know, you look really sexy when you’re scared,” he said in the same voice, now with half-lidded eyes.
“Please…” she pleaded. “Don’t do this.”
“Don’t you want it?”
“No,” she said again.
He sighed heavily, turned around, and ran his hands through his black hair. “Relax, Weasley, I’m not going to if you don’t want me to,” he said. “Not that I don’t want to,” he said cockily. “You’re not mine; you’re Draco’s.”
“I’m not Draco’s!” she said angrily. “I don’t belong to anybody.” He chuckled. “What’s so funny?”
“Look around, Weasley,” he said, laughing and drawing out his wand to conjure a case of brandy. “You’re a prisoner of war. And you belong to Draco.” There was a long pause while he drank and she thought.
“Before you’re entirely shit-faced, will you answer just one question I have? Please?” she asked hopefully.
“That depends, what will you do for me?” he asked, while arching his eyebrows in a very Draco way.
“What do you want?” she asked skeptically.
“Sex,” he said with a smirk.
“I would never have sex with you!”
“Then there is something else that you could do for me,” he said slyly.
“And you’ll answer my question?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you want?”
“Just go down on me, that’s all.”
“I--I…Continue getting smashed,” she said shakily.
“I will,” he said while laughing and taking another huge swig of brandy.
Blaise is a bastard, but I could have it much worse. Poor Hermione. Or Luna, when she… tears welled up in her eyes and Ginny stopped herself; she wouldn’t think about Luna and what happened to her. Blaise was completely drunk now.
“C’mon, Ginny,” he slurred, “you know you want it.”
“Stop it, Zabini!” she said as he chased her around the room.
“I tried to be nice, Ginny!” he yelled. “But nothing works with you!” His voice was escalating rapidly. He easily caught her and pinned her against the wall. She winced. “Will you?!” he yelled. She shook her head and he slapped her hard across the face. She whimpered and tried to turn away from him. He punched her in the stomach and she tried to double over but he wouldn’t even permit her that. He let her go and backhanded her, causing her to land on the ground. Blood spilled from her lip onto cold stone floor. He kicked her and she balled up. He kicked her over and over as she tried to get away.
She cried, and her salty tears mixed with the blood and dirt on her skin. “Please… Blaise… please,” she coughed out along with some blood. He stopped. He sobered immediately at the sight of the bloody mess in front of him. But mostly it was her voice choking out his name that made him notice the damage he had done. Then, everything went black again.
Ginny opened her eyes slowly. She was still lying on the stone floor. She was sore all over, but nothing felt broken and she could move easily. There was blood caked on her face and a little bit in her hair. She stood and walked over to the bed where Blaise was sleeping. She looked for his wand, but couldn’t find it anywhere. She remembered the night before vividly and was so angry that she walked right up to the side of the bed and slapped him hard across the face.
His eyes snapped open as she began to walk away from his bed. His hand darted out and grabbed her wrist, spinning her around. He pulled her to him quickly and hard enough so that she fell on top on him. “I fucking healed you, didn’t I?” he asked angrily.
“Let go of me,” she replied.
“No, you need to learn not to disrespect your betters.”
“Let go of me.”
“Don’t make me hit you again,” he threatened. He didn’t want to hit her, just like he didn’t mean to the first time, but it was too late to be nice. He rose his hand as if to smack her, but he instead let go of her wrist and pushed her to the ground hard. He got out of bed and towered over her. “I’m not going to warn you again.”
“I need to clean the blood off myself,” she said in a small voice as he looked down at her menacingly.
“Yes,” he said, after thinking for a second. “There’s a bathroom over there,” he said, pointing his wand at the wall and causing a door to appear. She got up and began to walk over to the door. She slowly began to close it and he didn’t object.
Once the door was closed, she leaned back against it and sank to the ground in temporary relief. Blaise didn’t scare her when he was like this, but his threats now held meaning after last night. She remembered that she was in there to clean the blood off herself and walked to the sink. She saw just how beat up she was in the mirror. He had healed her broken bones and bad cuts, but he hadn’t bothered with the bruises and little cuts on her face.
She turned on the taps of the sink and began splashing some water up into her face. The caked blood began to come off, creating a deep red in the sink. Soon her face was clear of blood and she began working on her hair.
“Take a shower while you’re in there; you never know when Draco’s coming back,” Blaise called from the other room. She noticed a shower that she hadn’t thought was there before. Zabini must have made it appear, she mused as she began removing her dirty clothing. After her shower, she noticed that her clothes were no longer on the floor where she left them.
“Really funny, Zabini!” she yelled. “Give me my clothes!” A green robe appeared on a hook by the shower. “C’mon, Zabini, please give me my clothes!” she called again. There was no answer, so she slipped on the robe and wiped some steam off the mirror. Her black eye had faded, as had the little cuts. Where are all my bruises? She removed the robe to examine the skin on her arms and stomach. Surely enough, there were deep purple bruises there, and what’s more, her black eye had returned, along with the cuts. She ran her hand over her eye and the little ruptures.
She brought her hand to the mirror and touched it with one finger, as if it could be the mirror that was making her body react so weirdly. It was cold, very cold. To her shock, the mirror began to ripple around her finger. The ripples were small, but they began to get bigger as her finger slowly sunk into the glass, engulfing her finger in harsh cold. What’s going on!? What’s wrong with this mirror!
“Ginny!” Blaise yelled. “Get out here right now!” She tore her finger from the mirror. Her bruises and cuts disappeared, but she didn’t notice because she was busy picking the robe up off the ground. She made sure that she was thoroughly covered by the robe before leaving the bathroom.
The chair across the room was turned around and clearly occupied because of the pointy wizard hat that could be seen peeking above the high chair-back. “Zabini…” she said shakily, moving closer to the chair. There was no answer and she stopped walking. “Who’s there?” she asked in the same way, holding her ground. Still no answer.
The man rose from the chair. She gasped but did not falter as she looked him straight in the eyes, eyes whose expression had not changed since she met him in her first year at Hogwarts.
Lord Voldemort stood before her. She did not cower as some would before him; she just looked with stony eyes on his aged appearance. Not that he was extremely old, but he was considerably older than the last time she had seen him. He was no longer Tom Riddle.
From his shiny black shoes to the Sorting Hat sitting on top of his head he radiated evil. Still she held her ground and refused to cower.
“Ginevra,” he said softly in a deep voice, “it is wonderful to see you again.”
She steeled herself, steadied her voice. “Lord Voldemort,” she said coldly and placidly.
A/N: Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it. Draco will be coming in soon, so don't fear. Anyway, pretty please, review! :)
To Be Continued.
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