Open Your Eyes

Ginny stared at the boy in front of her. His hair was as black as raven feathers, but his eyes most certainly weren't the colour of a fresh-pickled toad. They were more like the colour blue of the ocean before it becomes too deep to swim in safely. He was smirking.

"Ginny, my dear, it's not polite to stare," he said, his voice laced with lusty undertones. "I never stared at you while you were saying something."

She turned back to her Potions paper, trying to ignore Tom as he moved around behind her. She felt the chair shift a little, as Tom leaned on it. He tapped the parchment with a long, delicate finger. "That is not how you spell tranquility."

Ginny nodded meekly, while Tom moved to sit in the chair beside her. His reading glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose as he stared at Ginny over his frames. Tom finally returned to proof-reading her paper. Pushing his glasses back to their original position, he grabbed Ginny's quill and began editing. His handwriting was small and precise; but his fingers still attracted a few droplets of red ink.

"Finished," he said, twirling a few strands of her hair around his forefinger. "I hope it's satisfactory. Now..." He faded off, drawing his finger down her neck. "Give me what I want."

"I never agreed to do any such thing," Ginny answered.

Riddle's voice was almost angry when he replied coolly, "You did. I traded my editing services for...what I require. Whether or not you do it willingly makes no difference to me. You, unwittingly it would seem, agreed to it. You're bound to it." He leant foward in his chair, whispering in her ear, "And once you're bound to something, you have to follow through." Ginny shuddered, and Tom recoiled slightly. "Fine. I won't get too close until you calm down a little."

"If I don't calm down?"

"I have all night."

Ginny took the essay from Tom's hand, shoving it into her bag. She stood, gathering her things. Tom rose along with her, reaching out to brush her cheek. Shying away from his touch, Ginny headed up from the Common Room to her dormitory. While boys were not allowed to enter the girls' dorms, Ginny had learned long ago that Tom did not constitues as a boy, and could follow her.

She entered her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. It would have, in any other case, hit Tom in the face. However, she knew that--while he was no ghost--he could get in however he pleased, even if she hadn't invited him inside.

When she dropped her heavy bags on the ground, Ginny expected one of her roommates to wake up with a muffled 'whosair?' But the beds were all empty. She turned to Tom, staring stonily at him. He stood by the door, leaning against it. His eyes shone in the dull gloom of the moonlight. His hands were clasped idly in front of him.

"Who's staring now?" she quipped.

He shrugged, an elegant gesture coming from him. He didn't allow his eyes to shift from her face. Tom watched as she undressed, changing into a plain nightdress. Her thin body was outlined clearly beneath the thin cotton fabric. She was no longer the fumbling eleven-year-old girl she had been when he had first met her. Her body was curvy but thin, and her hair curled exquisitely around her face, draping down her back and stopping below her shoulder blades. She was perfectly desirable. Any sane man would want her as his own.

Tom longed to touch her--to take her--but he refrained, watching as she crawled under the bedcovers. Something stirred inside him, but he fought back his passion. It was a beast raging inside of him, desiring only one thing: Virginia Weasley.

She lay in bed, her hair flowing in crimson waves around her face. Tom stepped from the doorway, deciding to lurk no longer. He went forward, stopping at the end of her bed. He stood by the bedpost, observing her as she feigned sleep. Her beautifully sculpted features were cast in a deathly pale light from the moon. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed.

The stirring within him refused to be subdued. Tom sat beside her on the bed, scraping his nails lightly down her arm. She opened her eyes. Then, rolling over, she stared at him with a mixture of loathing and annoyance.

"Leave me alone," she hissed.

The beast inside him reared it's ugly head, and Tom supressed a shudder. His hands shot out, grabbing her wrists roughly. He covered her mouth with his own, her scream dying before it passed her lips. He sat on top of her legs, holding her wrists above her head with one hand, and cupping her face with the other.

Pausing for breath, Tom pulled away from her. She gulped in a deep breath to scream. Tom covered her mouth with his free hand. He shifted his position so that he was straddling her waist now. Her breath came in shallow gasps, causing him to grin sadistically.

"Open your eyes, my darling," he whispered in her ear. "Open your eyes and greet the morning."

Ginny opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed in through her windows. She sat up, kicking off the covers. In the mirror across from her bed, Ginny saw her reflection. She was deathly white. Ginny looked down at her wrists. Red ink was smeared there from Tom's editing quill.

But, whether or not he had even been there in the first place, he was not with her now.

She had opened her eyes, and greeted the morning.

*****