Ginny woke with a start. Her gigantic green bed felt so comfortable, so right, that she didn’t want to get out of it. Three years ago, Ginny would’ve laughed if you had told her that she could feel so at home at the Malfoy house. She was getting used to it, though. She had lived in this room since Voldemort had kidnapped her three years ago. Ginny’s disobedient mind traveled back to three years ago, when Voldemort had kidnapped her. As soon as he had taken her to the Malfoy’s house, Ginny had felt even more terrified because with the Malfoy house came Draco Malfoy, her archenemy since she was eleven and he was so horrible to her at Hogwarts. Even when she first came here and they had both grown up she didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Voldemort had gotten her here and promptly threw her—literally—into this room, where Ginny had stayed for five days without any food or anything. It had been painful, but she hadn’t been ready to face him or any of the Malfoys. She had spent a lot of time sleeping and brooding, but when she hadn’t been sleeping she spent the rest of the time being mad at the world in general. Then after five days of this, Voldemort made her come out. It seemed like he made her do everything. He made her get up in the morning, made her eat, made her do something other than sulking in her room, made her go to sleep at night, made her do anything, because Ginny had simply lost the will to do anything herself. After about two weeks of this she started to come back to normal slowly. By the first month she was Ginny Weasley again, but she still wasn’t the same. She had lost a lot of weight, and her body had lost that shine and radiance that said I am Ginny Weasley, love me! It had taken her a full six months before she fully recovered, but it took even longer than that to get her to start speaking to anybody unless she absolutely had to. After a year she started to come around emotionally and, although she still hated Voldemort and every single one of the Malfoys, she began to speak to them. Except for Draco, she didn’t say a word to him. Soon after, Voldemort began to teach her some simple dark arts spells. She didn’t learn very much because she simply refused to put out any effort whatsoever, but eventually she got the idea that the only thing she had to lose by learning them was that Voldemort might get the idea that she trusted him, which she totally didn’t unless you count the fact that she depended on him for her life. Ginny looked at the clock and groaned. In only a half-hour she would have to meet Voldemort for her dark arts lesson. She grudgingly got out of bed but raced through her morning routine. She went to go get her wand, but realized it wasn’t there. Ginny panicked. She always kept her wand on a shelf in her closet, but it wasn’t there. Ginny hurriedly searched her closet, thinking that it must have just fallen, but it was nowhere to be seen. Ginny anxiously looked at her clock, and that obnoxious clock told her that she only had five minutes. Oh, well. I’ll just have to go tell Voldemort I can’t do my lesson. Damn! Ginny raced into the room where Voldemort was waiting, but stopped short when she saw him looking as though he was expecting her. “You know Ginny,” he said, “You cannot practice dark arts without a wand. You could try if you wanted, but it may prove to be a little difficult.” Ginny blushed ferociously, wondering how he knew. She could feel her face heating up. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t find it. I looked everywhere.” Voldemort looked at her critically. “It’s a shame you don’t trust me.” “Huh? What do you mean?” “Why didn’t you come tell me immediately that your wand was missing? A witch without a wand is a very bad thing. Especially a witch I know named Ginevra Weasley.” “I just thought it fell. I didn’t want you to be looking for my wand then just find it on the floor.” ”Never mind. Let’s just get on with your lesson. We’ll discuss this later. I have a special treat planned for you.” “But I don’t have a wand.” Voldemort reached into his robes and pulled out a wand--Ginny’s wand! “Catch.” He threw it to her. “How did you get my wand?” Ginny asked him. “I took it. I wanted to see if you trusted me.” Ginny scowled, but knew better than to say what she would’ve given the world to say. “Okay, whatever,” she settled for. “Okay. I have a treat planned for you.” “A treat?” Ginny asked, not getting her hopes up that Voldemort would actually do something nice for her. “We’re going to practice using the Unforgivable Curses,” he said as if it was no big deal. Ginny stared at him, open mouthed. “But that’s really advanced magic.” “Ginny, get a grip! I’ve been trying to teach them to you for almost two years. You’re twenty years old. I accept the fact the only magic you’ve learned was at Hogwarts, where Dumbledore coddled you every step of the way, but geez, you’re unbelievable! That’s why I’m here. I’m going to show you how to use them and we’re not leaving until you’ve perfected the Imperious Curse.” “Don’t start pretending like any of this was my idea,” Ginny said. “I’m not saying it is, just that you have to learn these.” True to his word, Voldemort spend five hours teaching Ginny how to correctly initiate the Imperious Curse. Narcissa had willingly let them borrow one of the house elves as practice. Throughout the lesson, Ginny kept getting scolded about how she wasn’t trying her hardest. She kept denying it, but knew it was true. She kept thinking about what her mother would say if she knew what her daughter was up to. Or even worse, Ron. Ginny gave an involuntary shudder. She surprisingly hadn’t thought about her family in so long that thinking about them now was painful. Finally Ginny perfected it, though. She successfully made the house elf walk on the ceiling and do cartwheels all around the room. Voldemort grinned. “Looks like we may have something here,” he said. Ginny had to admit, it felt pretty good. Both of them sat down on the ledge, catching their breath. Ginny was exhausted from trying so hard at getting the Imperious Curse down and Voldemort was exhausted from yelling at her. Voldemort put his arm around her shoulder. “You did well for your first time,” he said. “Tomorrow we’ll review it a little bit, and then work on the Cruciatus Curse. The sooner you’re prepared, the better.” He was never going to relent. “Prepared for what?” Ginny asked. She scooted a little closer to him, wanting to see how he’d react, and he responded by tightening his grip on her. “Anything.” * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~* Voldemort spent the next two weeks making absolute sure that Ginny could perform all three Unforgivable Curses like second nature. Once she got the hang of them she really enjoyed learning them and actually started trying. One afternoon, Ginny was in her room polishing her wand when Voldemort came in. “Hello, Ginny,” he said calmly. “I have important news.” Ginny sat there silently, waiting for him to continue. He said, “We have to leave England.” “Leave? Where are we going?” “We’re going to Germany,” he said. “It’s too dangerous here. There’s a death eater palace in Germany and we’re going to live there. Nobody’ll think to look there.” “Are we in danger?” Ginny asked. She wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted his answer to be. The only thing that could chase Voldemort and have a chance at winning would be the Order of the Phoenix, which meant that Ginny could be rescued and she wouldn’t have to be here, or Germany, or wherever they were going. On the other hand, Voldemort had pushed all the right buttons on Ginny, letting her explore her dark side and letting it grow. She was having a blast learning all about the Dark Arts, and how to fight them. “Not as of now,” Voldemort responded, “but trouble is heading our way and I’m not going to sit here and wait for it.” He grinned at her. “I’m evil, not stupid.” --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A/N-What I've noticed is that people tend to review stories that they like. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like every single person who reads this story to review it, no matter if you think I'm better than David Lubar (inside joke that means it's really good), just okay, or if at any point in the story you have to stop reading because it's so boring. Just think about what I said. I'd like to know what peeps think of my story.

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