Disclaimer: Still not mine. Shocking, I know!

Chapter 8 - Trust

As I walk upon high, and I step to the edge to see my world below…

On top of what used to be the Astronomy Tower, Ginny felt like she could see forever.

Sleep had eluded her once again, and insomnia has been a common companion in the year since the end of the Second War – the last war, where a reluctant hero had ended the terror for the last time when he cast an unforgivable curse at the Enemy. The flash of green signaled the end of Voldemort’s life, and along with it, the end of his reign of terror over much of the wizarding world. The image of the prone, lifeless body of Voldemort, and a shaken but still very much alive and still standing Harry was burned neatly into Ginny’s mind. Even now, she fought to suppress a shiver. It was done, it was finally the end. The horror was over.

Shaking her head slightly as if the movement will rid herself of the bad thoughts, she cast her gaze to the twinkling lights sprinkled across Hogsmeade village. It was early evening, and though it was too far away to see, Ginny could simply close her eyes and imagine all the hustle and bustle of the people in the village. Perhaps villagers were hurrying home from work, eager to get out of the chill of the settling night. Or maybe they were taking one last leisurely stroll to enjoy the fresh air, walking as if they have all the time in the world.

And maybe they did have all the time in the world, thanks to Harry and the others winning the war. So many lives were shattered to pay for this peace, a peace paid for in blood. Too many of Ginny’s friends, classmates, loved ones (she still could not think of Fred without crying, even now) had sacrificed themselves for this peace. She wonders – almost bitterly – who still remembers the sacrifices of the Order, though it had been only a year since the Light Side won back the Wizarding World. Everyone was all too ready to move on, but what was left of the heroes?

“Can’t sleep?” A familiar voice inquired from behind her, interrupting her increasingly morbid thoughts. Ginny did not need to turn around to know the identity of the speaker. Only one person knew of her destinations when sleep escaped her, which it commonly did.

“No, gave up trying to sleep about an hour ago. What about you Harry?” She answered lightly – or, what she hoped to be a light tone, her eyes still glued to the twinkling lights below her.

“I couldn’t sleep either. Not after knowing that ultimately, after everything, you would betray me.” Harry answered quietly, almost hissing the last part. Ginny whipped around at that unexpected accusation, and the pure hatred and disgust on Harry’s face made her stumble back a step. She opens her mouth to try to defend herself, but Harry cuts her off. “You SAY you did this for your family,” Harry continued as he advanced towards her menacingly. “But you know, in your heart of hearts that you did this for yourself.” He intoned softly, his normally kind eyes burned with hatred. A hatred of her.

“No…no, that’s not what happened…” Ginny tried to protest, stumbling back away from Harry when he marched forward aggressively towards her. He was lying, wasn’t he? He couldn’t possibly think that she was this selfish. Tom had threatened to kill her family if she didn’t go with him, threatened to kill everyone she cared about. And she did not dare to call the Dark Lord’s bluff, did she? That was the truth, wasn’t it?! Her mind ranted angrily, indignantly. The excuses sounded feeble and hollow, even to her own mind.

But under Harry’s accusing glance, Ginny found that she could not speak, could do nothing but stare in shock, with her mouth hanging open. She felt as if someone has cast Immoblius on her, and she still motionless, watching helplessly as Harry’s face contorted in rage and anger. Then just as suddenly, the rage disappeared, and his face became void of all expressions. She found couldn’t look away, because now with his features no longer contorted in rage or disgust, Ginny felt a tug in her heart as she watched on, mesmerized by his brilliant green eyes and his all too familiar face.

They were facing each other, standing so close together that the tips of their shoes were almost touching. The tension between the two former lovers was tangible, and Ginny felt it leave a thick, bitter taste in her throat. She swallows, and attempts to smile at Harry. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eyes she sees parts of the cinder falls out of the already crumbling walls in the Astronomy Tower. The falling debris throws up a cloud of dust as they crashed into the floor. With a frozen smile still painted on her face, Ginny watched in silent horror as more debris and cinders came crashing down all around them, it was as if the battle torn walls were finally too tired to stand on their own. She stumbles backwards and narrowly misses having an errant piece of rubble fall on her head. The dust and soot is everywhere now, filling her nostrils and making her eyes itch as Ginny struggles blindly to retreat backwards, stopping only when her lower back hit the protruding ledge of the windowsill. She rubs her eyes, trying in vain to stop the tears, and looks up just in time to see Harry – brave, courageous Harry – raise up one arm towards her. Instead of reaching out to her, he pushes her lightly on the shoulder and Ginny loses her balance, her arms reaching out in vain to find something to hold onto. “HARRY!” She screamed in horror as she fell out the open window, limbs flailing helplessly around her. Her scream however, was ignored. And all the way own, she could only see his cold, emerald eyes.

Ginny jolted awake, sitting upright as she gasped for breaths of air that couldn’t come quickly enough. She was shaking, and her body felt tense with adrenaline, as if she really had been falling through midair. The nightmares, they were nothing new in and of themselves. They came quite frequently enough after the war, but it didn’t mean that she hated them any less. And yet, tonight, the dream was different. Harry was the one to have pushed her when before, the culprit was always Tom.

Tom.

Now fully awake, Ginny felt the weight of a pair of eyes trained steadily on her form. Her heartbeat accelerated again, and she looked up, knowing who those cold eyes belonged to.

Tom stood motionlessly at the foot of their bed. She could tell he was just getting ready to retire for the night, as his normal daytime black robes (black, always black, with him) were replaced by a pair of dark gray silk pajamas. Few have seen the Dark Lord outside of his self-imposed uniform; almost none has seen him in such a relaxed environment. It was far too close to actually letting his guard down.

And yet, his eyes, his eyes were not relaxed at all right now. His normally cold, blue eyes were ablaze with a fire Ginny had never seen before. Without conscious thought, she tensed, as if sensing the danger in this situation, without really knowing why.

With a cat-like, inhuman speed, Tom sprinted from his previous spot at the foot of the bed, and pounced on Ginny. Pushing her forcefully onto the bed with his agile speed and sheer momentum, Tom calmly wrapped one hand lightly around her neck, while his other hand strays to play with a curl of Ginny's hair, trailing soft fingertips down her jaw line, down the side of her neck before traveling down her torso. He rested his left hand lightly on her ribcage. Tom's relaxed, genteel admiration of her features belies the menacing hold he has around her pale neck with his right hand; not hard enough to bruise, but just enough pressure to remind her it was there. It is a game that Tom enjoys greatly; whispering sweet nothings and giving butterfly touches, all the while reminding her that her life is – literally – in his hands. Ginny shivers, though she is not certain from which action.

"Ginevra, Ginevra, Ginevra..." Tom hissed softly, leaning so close that his lips brushed against her outer ear. She shivers again, delighting in the way he speaks her name. Oh how Ginny hated her given name before she met him. As a bumbling and awkward child, Ginevra sounded too lady-like and sophisticated, forever out of her reach as she climbed trees and dug for garden gnomes with her brothers. Her mother had assured her she would grow into the name, even as she helped her only daughter bandage up a new cut from Quidditch, or wash overalls stained with grass and mud. But little Ginny, with her bony limbs and wayward hair – stayed as Ginny, and Ginevra remained but a dream, forever ephemeral and unattainable, always beyond her grasp.

Until Tom, that is. Her given name from his lips sounded like a fervent prayer, filled with reverence and dark secrets. Velvety smooth and sinful, the male appreciation in his voice made Ginny preen and glow. It made her aware, and she craves that sensation. His voice always commanded her full attention, and now, coupled with his light almost touches on her ribcage, she was hyper aware of his attention. More, her mind screamed, she always wanted more of Tom.

"Ginevra..." He intoned softly again. "I gave you a choice, did I not?" His left hand had abandoned its position on her ribcage, choosing instead to trail up and down her torso instead. She was wearing a sensible cotton nightgown, but his demanding touches still burned a feverish path down her side, as if he was touching her bare skin. "And you chose me. You chose a life above the common filth, didn't you?" The pressure against Ginny's neck deepened ever so slightly, and she was reminded that he was waiting – patiently, expectantly - for her answer. "Yes." She whispered softly, her eyes imploring him to understand what she was trying to say, which was funny, since she herself wasn't sure what she was trying to convey herself.

“And, do you regret that decision, my dear wife?” Calculating blue eyes meet shocked brown ones, and not for the first time, Ginny wished she could read Tom. She realized – not without a fair amount of bitterness that she could never reach him, not even now, when their bodies are almost entwined together. Ginny wanted to kiss his pale cheeks, run her fingers through his jet-black hair and meld the two of them together. She wanted kisses and touches and all of him. Because Tom was - is - the only one who could set both her heart and body on fire. But even now, when she was at her most vulnerable and most open, he was merely staking a claim. She was less of a wife and more of a possession. Her eyes filled with unbidden tears at that thought, and through sheer force of will she stopped them from falling freely down her cheeks. Ginny would not give him the satisfaction of her tears. She would not cry for someone who would not return her love, but was cruel enough to bind them together for the rest of their lives anyway. She was stuck forever with unrequited love for the rest of her life. Did she regret her decision indeed?

Silence hung in the air, tense and suffocating. Tom narrowed his eyes at the bright brown eyes staring back up at him, and tightens his hold around her neck just ever so slightly, as a warning, or perhaps a reminder to the unanswered question still lingering in the air. Ginny stared up defiantly, and never breaking eye contact with the man on top of her, she answered calmly, “No, I don’t.” A pause and the answer set in. Tom’s eyes hardened but she did not look away, did not break eye contact. He doubted her sincerity, but Ginny did not panic. Instead, she forced herself to relax, letting down the mental defenses in her mind, essentially allowing Tom to find whatever it was that he sought. For the first time in many, many years, Ginny had nothing to hide.

In one smooth movement, Tom released his hold on Ginny’s neck and moved off the bed. Ginny remained where she laid, and followed him with her eyes as he stomped purposely across their bedroom and grabbed his bathrobe. Standing in front of the bedroom door, Tom stopped and looked over his shoulder, as Ginny met his gaze curiously. His expression remained blank and unreadable, but at least his eyes were back to their regular frosty blue. Ginny hoped that it was a good thing. Without a word, Tom turned around and exited the bedroom, his clipped, quick footsteps disappearing down the long hallway. Ginny sighed to herself; she was left all alone, again. It was late though, and there was nothing else she could do but go back to sleep. She hoped she wouldn’t have any more dreams tonight.

Next Morning

He did not come back to bed, Ginny realized sadly as she awoke the following morning. His side of the bed remained neat and untouched, and a sinking feeling settled in Ginny’s stomach as she lightly touched his pillow. She missed him, despite the pain and the anger, she missed him.

Ginny scowled to herself, and mentally berated herself for being so despondent literally minutes after she had woken up. She did not much feel like getting up today, however, as she saw no delight in taking breakfast alone. Perhaps she’ll indulge herself and have breakfast in bed. Warming up to the idea of a lazy morning, she called for her house-elf, and a soft “pop” signaled Libby’s arrival. Ginny asked for her breakfast to be brought up instead. “Yes, mistress! Right away!” The house-elf squeaked, eager to please the Lady. Ginny smiled kindly and inclined her head in thanks before turning away towards the window, letting Libby know that she was dismissed.

Falling back into bed, Ginny dozed lightly before the unmistakable footsteps outside the bedroom woke her and alerted her to Tom’s presence. She looked up in time as he knocked once on the mahogany door before stepping in. Though it was barely half past dawn, Tom was already dressed in his crisp, black robes, looking alert and a little bit impatient. He walked gracefully to the side of the bed and smiled down at her, though the smile never reached his eyes. Rarely any of his smiles did.

“Good morning, Ginevra. I trust that you slept well and had no more…nightmares.” His choice of words was not lost on Ginny, but she made no note of it. She loathed admitting it, but having him here made her happy, even if he was merely here to taunt her. “Good morning my Lord. I slept well, thank you. I hope you weren’t up all night working?” She inquired politely, as it was expected of her. Their interactions were dictated by formalities and meaningless gestures, and Ginny likened it to actors in a play who were merely reciting the script. Yet, even as she learned her lines and quickly stepped into her given role, she grew better at the game, picking up nuances, and subtle glances that let her understand what the speaker was really trying to say.

“Unfortunately, my lady, I was. Much has been going on, and my followers need me to go over many plans and strategies regarding our campaign.” Tom answered simply, placing extra stress on the last word. Ginny could have snorted in disbelief, had she not feared his displeasure at such a crude act, not to mention such blatant disrespect. “Plans and strategies” and “campaign” were all euphemisms for Death Eaters’ waging havoc and chaos and innocent witches and wizards, and plots to kill members of the Order. Yes, “strategies”, indeed, Ginny thought bitterly to herself. Strategies on how best to terrorize the Wizarding World.

“Ginevra. It is interesting that you have brought this up. I have come here with the intention to ask for your…assistance in my campaign.” Tom continued, knowing full well that he has Ginny’s undivided attention now. He rarely mentioned to her of his “campaign” or any of his agendas, and never had he directly asked for her help, and Ginny found herself nodding to him expectantly.

“Precious, you should know, what with the latest articles all over the Daily Prophet, that the enemy Potter is dangerous, a menace to all those around him.” Tom explained urgently, grabbing Ginny’s hand before he continued. “I know you were close to him, but I must ask you to see reason, Ginevra. He is dangerous, and needs to be stopped. I am asking you to help me stop him, because only you can help me.”

Ginny barely felt the tight grip of Tom on her hand, and his fervent pleads sounded far away and distant. Her mind was reeling from what he had asked. He wanted her help to….betray Harry? She felt numb, and she wondered idly if this was another nightmare, sent to torment her for all that she had done.

“Ginevra.” At the sound of his voice, her head turned towards him and she met his eyes. “I know I am asking much of you, but you have to choose eventually, him or me.” Tom’s eyes were intense, and Ginny was taken back by the sheer emotions in them. She could only blink as his request sinks in, even though a small part of her knew that this day would come. She just didn’t think it would be this soon. She had only been here – with Tom – for slightly over a week, after all.

She would choose, and despite everything, she knew she would always choose Tom.

Ginny’s eyes focused once more and hardened in resolve as she looked at the Dark Lord, at her husband. “And what of my family? What will happen to them once I give you the information?” She asked. She no longer wished to play the part of the scared little girl, waking up with her hands covered in blood, and always afraid. Always afraid and unsure of what is to come. She is now the wife of the Dark Lord, and she will speak to him as an equal. Ginny will finally have a hand in her own destiny.

Her particular choice of words (using “when I give you the information”, and not “if”) was not lost on Tom and he was ready for her, “I will send a trusted follower to bring them to a safe house. They will not be on the list of attacks and will not be harmed.” He promised solemnly, still holding tightly onto her hand.

Ginny looked down at their clasped hands. She contemplated his promise, as the silence stretched on as she weighted on his words. Finally, after a tense several minutes, she nodded her head in agreement. The real smile that blossomed on Tom’s face was unexpected, and she was slightly taken aback. Does he doubt me even now? She thought incredulously to herself. That Tom still did not fully trust her left a bitter taste in her mouth, and Ginny quickly pushed the errant thoughts aside. He will see, she vowed silently, he will see once and for all whose side I am on.

“You have no idea what this means to me, Ginevra. I promise you will see the fruits of your labor soon.” Tom whispered softly to her, and caressed her face with his free hand, smiling again as she leaned into his touch. “After breakfast, I’ll bring over some parchments and a quill for you to write down anything and everything of importance about our enemy, yes?” Ginny only nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. “Good, good. Also, I’ll have the house elf bring a tonic for you along with your breakfast. Make sure to drink all of it.”

Ginny tilted her head slightly in question. “A tonic? What for?” She inquired, as Tom kissed her cheek and turned towards the door. “Just a supplement, I guess you can call it.” Tom answered blithely, his back turned towards her to hide the gleam in his eyes and his twisted smile.

As if on cue, Libby returned to the room with a breakfast tray laden with food and Tom’s tonic, and the house elf placed the heavy tray gingerly across Ginny’s lap, before bowing lowly to her master and mistress. “Enjoy your meal, my lady. I shall return in a bit.” Tom intoned kindly before exiting the room. Once in the hallway, the warm and open expression dropped from his face, and it was quickly replaced by a cold, cruel smile. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the small victory he had won from Ginevra. Perhaps playing the part of the loving husband had its charms after all, he sneered to himself.

In five or six long strides Tom has arrived in his study just down the hall, where Lucius and MacNair were already patiently waiting for instruction. Ignoring the two kneeling figures, the Dark Lord walked slowly to his leather armchair and made himself comfortable before addressing his followers. His servants needed daily reminders that things needed to be done on his terms, and no one else’s. “Rise,” he commanded in a bored tone. The elder Malfoy and MacNair rose and awaited instructions. “Lucius, I want you to prepare a safe house ready for use this afternoon. I don’t care where it is, but make sure it only has one exit, and place guards at the door at all times, understand?” “Yes my lord, right away.” Lucius bowed and left without another word. “MacNair, I am in need of your…public relations skills. You are to visit the Weasleys, and inform them of the heightened status of their darling daughter. Tell them that if they agree to step out of the war they will be moved to the safe house and will be under my personal protection.”

“Of course, my lord. But…if they refuse, what then, Master?” MacNair questioned hesitantly. He knew of the Weasley clan, and did not think highly of their intelligence, or their self-preservations. It would not be far fetched for the idiots to refuse such a generous offer from the Dark Lord.

“Then kill them.” Tom replied plainly. “They are bargaining chips, nothing more. Bargaining chips in a game I intend to win. Now leave.” The Dark Lord looked away from McNair, which meant that he was done talking. Bowing one last time, the dark-haired servant lumbered slowly out of the study, and wondered about the strangeness of the new task. Why bother getting a safe house ready if they were dispensable, as the Dark Lord had suggested? He wondered vaguely if it had anything to do with the red-haired girl he had seen around the Manor. No matter, he was a good Death Eater, and always eager to fulfill his orders. And right now, he thought with a gleeful smile that was all sharp teeth, he has some blood traitors to visit.

A/N: Whew, took me slightly longer than a month, but still better than five months, right? It's really the reviews that keeps me going, especially the ones that let me what ya'll think of the Tom and Ginny, and if they're being too OOC or not. The more time I spend thinking about Tom, the squishier he is to me, for some reason. (Squishy, like a teddy bear or a pet.) THANKS again to all those who took the time to review and let me know what they think! I really appreciate it! Please review again and let me know how this one turned out (and/or if you catch any mistakes.) I know the pacing is slow, but I really wanted to spend more time with Tom and Ginny and develop their relationship more. Two more chapters should wrap this story up, so we're almost nearing the end with this one. (Unless there's a sequel...but who knows?) Thanks in advanced!