The Gold Puppet

Disclaimer: don't own, no money ... ladi, ladi, ladi.

A/N: we'd like to thank everyone who read, rated, fav-ed, alerted, and reviewed our story: Lady Miya, hero_jaejoong, Devourer, JaceDamian23.

Devourer: We have to agree, but Tom can't have Hermione attacking him just yet. Yup, he was claimed by Hermione. And no, the two authors are not jealous at all. Nope. Not at all. And please ignore those glares we're sending to a certain bushy-haired witch. We're just ... having an eye problem. 'Tis all. ;) Well, he wouldn't know that, since he thinks that Lewis is a good guy. Have fun with this chapter!

hero_jaejoong: "is it just me..or is the room getting more than just a tad hotter?" - must be you. *sniggers* Well, don't get too attached to Tom being on top, Hermione does like to be on top too, so... ;-) And we're glad to hear you found the chapter amazing. Especially since it made you not miss reading new chapters of 'Apprentice'. *Nerys high-fives Serp, conveniently reading over the almost.* No, I don't take subtle hints at all, obvious ones neither for that matter. Oh well, Apprentice muse will return eventually - I had similar things happening during the writing of Bittersweet, so I am not concerned. My muse's attention often swings back and forth between stories. Perhaps I shall kill all the Weasleys in Apprentice and be done with them, maybe that will help? ROFLMAO!

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The Gold Puppet

Chapter 16

To his surprise, Harry Potter landed right in the familiar setting of Dumbledore's Head's Office. Only it was Severus Snape who stood behind the desk, a blank expression on his face while his dark eyes stared straight at him. Harry frowned. He'd never been seen while visiting a memory in a Pensieve before, but when a redhead was pushed past him, he realised Snape had been staring at Ginny instead. Harry turned to Ginny, who dislodged the grip on her arm forcefully with a yank and glared at Snape with fury all over her freckled face.

"Here she is, Headmaster, as you requested," Filch said gleefully. "She was hiding in Madam Pomfrey's cabinet."

While Filch explained exactly where he had found Ginny Weasley and how she had evaded the Carrows with a jinx his cat had seen through, Harry was sure that Snape's eyes stared murderously at the man for a second.

Filch continued rambling, "Should I bring out the—"

"Leave us," a cold, high-pitched voice spoke behind him.

Shocked, Harry swirled around. Overlooking the grounds of Hogwarts, he stood in front of the window, his back turned to the room. Harry'd been so focused on Snape and Ginny, he hadn't even noticed his archenemy was in the Head's Office, too. Worried, his head swivelled back and forth between the now extremely pale-looking Ginny Weasley and Lord Voldemort.

What?

"I warned you it would be bad," Healer Lewis's voice sounded behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Remember you can leave whenever you need to, Harry. Don't try to take too much of it in all at once if you feel you can't take it anymore."

He turned to Lewis. "She never said anything."

"She buried it away deeply," Lewis replied, nodding to the scene. "You'll understand why soon."

Concerned, Harry looked back at Ginny, so he missed the genuine expression of malicious satisfaction Healer Lewis exhibited. Everyone in the room seemed to just stand frozen still, while Filch scattered away in the distance. Hopefully, Harry glanced in Snape's direction. Surely, he wouldn't let anything bad happen to Ginny? He'd been on their side. He'd help her, wouldn't he?

But he noticed the tension in his old teacher's posture and realised it wasn't going to happen when Voldemort spoke again, "I won't be needing you for this, Severus."

"My Lord," Snape objected, and his fists clenched briefly.

The Dark Lord's eerie chuckle filled the room. "A bit eager are we? Well, you and Lucius will just have to work that out amongst yourselves. My appointment with Miss Weasley takes precedence."

The dismissal was obvious in the tone and Snape stalked out of the office. For a second, Harry saw his hand hover in the direction of Ginny Weasley, but then, his eyes glanced back in the direction where Dumbledore's portrait should've been, which was covered by a thick black cloth. Harry now knew the Sword of Gryffindor had been hidden behind it, and he noted, it was the reason Snape walked on.

So, this had happened before Snape'd handed them the sword and it was why he hadn't got Ginny out of there. A small twinge of guilt began to form in his chest. And he looked around the room to find some indication when this had happened. It's when he noticed all the paintings of the former Headmasters and Headmistresses were obscured by a similar-looking cloth. He couldn't even hear them snore.

"Hello, Ginevra," Lord Voldemort drawled when the door clicked to behind Severus Snape. He turned around slowly and faced her with those red, slit-pupil eyes. "It's been a while."

Harry couldn't help himself. His immediate reaction was to step between them even if he knew it was stupid and this wasn't happening now. She'd walk right through him if she moved forward, and nothing he could do could change what already had happened. But it was instinct—an instinct that caused the Healer an incredible amount of joy, though outwardly he merely coughed softly and gave Harry a concerned glance.

"Should we stop?" Tom enquired, already knowing the answer would be no, of course. Curiosity really was a killer and not just of cats.

Harry shook his head furiously. "No," he said, waving his hand through the air apologetically. "I wasn't thinking," he looked around, puzzled. "Do these memories freeze?"

"Yes," Healer Lewis explained, "it was the invention of Healer Christeson. She realised that it could be beneficial to patients if the memories could be frozen when they talked to their Healers or when the Healer in question felt it was enough for one session."

"So, if I talk to you, this just stops," Harry replied understandingly. "I can see how that could be convenient."

"It really is," Tom replied matter-of-factly, while Harry stepped aside and remained quiet, watching the rest of the horror show.

It was horrible to him to see that his girlfriend had turned a sickly white shade, which could give the wizard standing across from her a run for his money. Her forehead showed a few drops of perspiration. And she just stood there like a statue, rigid. Her eyes widened and her pupils dilated. Her lips were pressed in a horizontal line, while her brow drew together. Her shallow breathing had quickened to an unnaturally fast pace to supply the demands her body was now screaming for. It was obvious she was frightened out of her wit.

"I understood from Lucius you had an ... interesting experience during your first year at Hogwarts, Ginevra," Lord Voldemort said in that same prolonged and lingering voice, while he glided towards her still figure.

A small tremble travelled through her body when he raised his hand and caught her chin, lifting it so she had to meet his eyes. "Let us see how ... interesting, shall we?"

A simple sideways flick of his wand and the Legilimency spell crashed into her with such force it made her sway on her feet. For a long time, they stood there, silently. Sweat leaked in small streams down her face, while her body trembled all over. Her breaths became audible rasps and the panic that ran visibly through her was a painful sight to see for Harry. He knew perfectly well what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Legilimency and that had been Snape, not Voldemort.

Finally, the Dark Lord undid the spell and Ginny crumbled to the ground, falling on her hands and knees, shaking like a leaf.

"Well, well, well," Voldemort mocked while circling around her, "how did you manage after I was gone? Have you ever showed your distress to your ... 'saviour'? Or did you hide your true feelings about me from everyone?"

His pleased laugh made Harry wish he could do that last battle all over again and use another spell instead of Expelliarmus—one that caused a bit more pain since it was obvious Ginny was now crying.

"Oh dear, oh dear, how would your boyfriend feel if he knew you fancied his mortal enemy?"

Ginny froze.

Lord Voldemort clicked with his tongue. "Don't tell me you two actually thought that would remain a secret?" His hand gestured around the room. "In this castle?" He snorted and squatted down till he was at eye level with her. His hand snapped out and grabbed her face, fingers digging deep around her jaw. "Where is Harry Potter?"

"I don't know," she responded truthfully.

He gazed at her for awhile, before the next question barked out, "When did you last see Potter?"

She lowered her eyes and stayed silent. In response, his fingers tightened their hold and his nails broke her skin. Ginny shook her head, trying to dislodge his grip, but with a flash of his wand, she was held utterly immobile. Smutches of red were now visible around his fingers. Blood, Harry realised, horrified. Ginny's blood.

"I asked you a question, Weasley," Voldemort spoke barely above a whisper. "When did you last see Potter?"

"At—at the we-wedding," Ginny stuttered.

He gazed at her, weighing her response, before, "What was his out?"

"What?" she responded, not understanding.

He sighed in annoyance. "Don't tell me your precious Order of the Phoenix didn't have a prearranged escape plan for Barney in case things went sour, which is exactly what happened," he smirked and tilted his head, but after a while, he shook his head when he obviously had seen they hadn't had any. "My, my, you lot really can't lift a finger without Albus Dumbledore, can you?" he snorted. "Did Potter leave with anyone in particular?"

Abruptly, Ginny closed her eyes.

"Oh no, Ginny, don't," Harry muttered, clenching his fists. "Don't try to fight him."

For a split-second, his softly uttered words made the scene freeze, but then, a triumphant smirk appeared on Voldemort's thin lips.

"So, he did," he deduced quietly and added in a most condescending tone, "And you, an insignificant child with mediocre powers, think you can stop me from finding out."

His mocking laugh filled the office again, and Harry really, really felt like bashing his bald head in; especially when that head leaned forward and whispered into Ginny's ear, "Though, you are ..." his wand trailed from her face down to her neck, "clearly," it tracked the form of her breast, "no longer that little ..." it went down to the cord of her robe, "tiny," the knot unwrapped, "eleven-year-old," her robe blew off, "anymore," he ended, placing his wand at the closed top button of her pyjamas, watching straight into her terrified opened eyes. "Have you fucked Potter yet?"

Ginny swallowed.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, still a prude. How disappointing for Harry and how ... fortunate for me." He snapped open the top button of her pyjamas and let the threat linger gently in the air before barking, "Who left the wedding with Harry Potter?"

"R-Ron and Her-Hermione," she stuttered, tears flowing down her cheeks.

He narrowed his eyes at her and seemed to get the rest of the information from her mind, because he continued, "Has anyone been in contact with them?"

Ginny shrugged, not knowing her father had sent Harry an owl.

Suddenly, he tossed her to the floor harshly and rose, his robes flaying around his tall, skeletal frame when he swirled away. Apparently, he'd undone the immobilising spell, because Ginny's body was shaking terribly now, and she pushed herself back in a seated position, having a hard time redoing the button with trembling hands.

Lord Voldemort halted a few feet away from her; his predatory red gaze looked down contemplatively at the youngest Weasley spawn, while he tapped his wand in his hand before pressing the tip of it against the mark on his lower arm.

"Since Potter wisely doesn't trust you,"—Ginny's head flew up in anger—, "where do you think they may be going?"

A couple of ideas flashed through her mind before she could stop them and look down.

"Too obvious," he replied coldly. "You're not the brains of the family, are you?" he snorted as he circled her. "But I suppose it doesn't matter where Potter is now. Once he sees your bruised and battered body in my arms on the frontpage of the Daily Prophet, he'll come running to the rescue, wouldn't you agree, Ginevra?" he hissed maliciously in her ear from behind.

"N-no."

"No to my negative statement, meaning you agree, or did your feeble mind misunderstand me correctly and is under the silly assumption that Harry Potter won't show?" he taunted, pulling her head back by her hair, so she had to face him.

"He won't come. He'll know it's a trap."

"He won't care it's a trap. He will come and surrender his wand to me, just to ensure the safety of his precious sweetheart.

"His friends will stop him."

"Your brother, really?" he taunted, his forehead crinkling from the raised lift of the absent eyebrow. "Well, I know family isn't everything, but I sincerely doubt that knowledge has reached his limited brain capacity."

There was a knock on the door, and he called out, "Enter."

To Harry's utter revulsion, three of Voldemort's most hideous male followers came into the office. He recognised their faces from the ministerial flyers and posters they were on, since to this day, they still hadn't been caught by the Aurors. Some thought they'd fled the country upon Lord Voldemort's death, because they weren't exactly the brightest in the bunch to say it mildly, and no one believed they could keep evading all those who looked for them all by themselves. Their continued freedom was cause for much outrage in the Wizarding Community since they were notorious sexual predators and had raped many people, male and female, adult and child, during that year Voldemort'd had the country under his control.

Harry's heart nearly stopped beating when he saw the way those three gazed greedily at Ginny, like she was a snack they would enjoy devouring whole.

"Hermione will stop them," Ginny retorted desperately, not able to see what had entered the room yet.

"Reaching for straws now, Ginevra?" Voldemort drawled again in a clear reminiscence of Tom.

But something flashed through Ginny's eyes, a solution.

"Hermione is the smartest witch of her age," she spoke with clear satisfaction about being able to say that about someone whose blood she knew he despised. "She'll remind them you won't stop just because they are here. I know you, Riddle," she hissed his name back venomously. "And so do they. You'll do worse to me once they are here and you'll make them watch for your sick pleasure. Hermione will remind them that they won't do me any favours by showing up," she repeated triumphantly.

"Nice try," he replied sibilantly. "But what you should have realised is that the bigger issue is getting the message of your capture and torture delivered to Potter. I've put a powerful Identifying Trace on every Prophet in the country. But he's not very interested in the news it seems, for he hasn't touched a single paper. He also hasn't replied to your father's owl or sent any other messages to any of his old acquaintances. Makes you wonder if he even cares about the fate of others, doesn't it?" he mused, while fondling her breast, causing her to squirm uncomfortably in his hold.

The bulky, unshaven Arcadicus Rencher chuckled, while Vertumnus Jourdain rubbed over his crotch in anticipation. Ginny contorted her neck to try to see who was there, but was unable to get a clear visual. She squinted.

"Gentlemen, do gather around," Voldemort said cheerfully as if he was inviting them to a round of kindergarten show and tell. He squeezed Ginny's breast harshly, causing her to whimper, as he gestured with his head to them to come closer. "It's impolite to skulk in the shadows while in the presence of such delicious female company."

His cold laugh was met with the lust-filled chuckles of his followers. And Harry turned even paler than Ginny when he saw them move around her. One of them had already unzipped his pants and had his hand around his cock, jerking hard at himself.

"Shall I introduce you, Ginevra Molly Weasley?" Voldemort whispered in her ear. "Shall I explain to them what a pure, innocent, untouched, virginal cunt you have?"

The bearded fellow groaned upon hearing that. And Ginny closed her eyes, trying not to see what was there in front of her.

Voldemort yanked on her hair. "Be polite, Ginevra. As we have discussed in the past, you will answer me when I ask you questions."

"Please," Ginny begged, looking up at him in despair. "Please."

"Do you want me to be your saviour now?" Voldemort asked, amused. "Lost faith in Potter already?" He glanced back at the entrance mockingly, pretending to wait for a white knight in shining armour to come bursting through, before he continued with poisonous glee, "I can't really blame you, seeing Harry was able to leave you behind so easily, knowing full well how vulnerable and accessible to Lord Voldemort you would be. Tell me, Ginevra, doesn't that make you wonder if he ever did truly love you or if you were just some convenient girl to pass the time with?"

Harry cringed when he noticed doubt flashed in Ginny's eyes upon Voldemort's statement. It pained him to see how her tears streamed continuously now and how her brief fiery spirit had dampened to non-existence.

He lies and manipulates for a living, Ginny. Don't believe him. Please don't believe him. I love you. I thought you'd be safe if we stayed apart. I am so sorry. I should never have left you alone. I love you, don't doubt that, Ginny, I always will, no matter what, Harry's thoughts whirled through his mind as his emotions stirred into overdrive upon realising what he would be unable to prevent from happening, because it was already too late. It had already occurred.

"Let's find out, shall we, Ginevra, just how convenient you are to pass the time with," Voldemort hissed in her ear, and with a snap of his fingers, her pyjamas fell to shreds on the floor around her, right before he threw her straight into the arms of the three men waiting eagerly to rape her.

"Make sure she keeps breathing," he ordered coldly through Ginny's hair-raising scream of desperation. "I need her alive but in shambles in case we do gain the ability to contact Potter."

Son of a bitch, Harry thought, his temper flying through the roof when he saw his girlfriend being violently taken by three of the most disgusting male individuals he'd ever seen.

He hadn't even noticed he'd drawn his wand and was about to cast at a memory when he was suddenly back in the Healer's office at St. Mungo's. He swirled to the Healer and raised his wand, fury blinding every bit of his capabilities to reason sensibly. Healer Lewis ducked just in time when Harry's curse soared over his head.

"Mr. Potter," Tom squeaked fearfully in protest behind his desk where he hardly could contain his laughter, especially when another curse shredded the documents on his desk, proving how very little self-control Potter had at the moment and how beautifully perfect his revenge was.

Tom had to admit the Horcrux's idea of creating a false memory had been extremely effective and wonderfully entertaining. At first, he had dismissed her option, knowing she only suggested it to safeguard her other friend's mental state. But after he'd given it some thought, he had to admit the ingenuity of her plan. It was deliciously wicked and he decided to go for it, because, despite that it wouldn't harm Ginny Weasley any further, it would cause Potter serious pain.

So much pain that he might be able to use it at some point to drive a wedge between Hermione and the obnoxious boy, because he still had no idea how to go about that seemingly impossible feat. Granger and Potter had always been joined at the hip and neither of them were such dolts as the Weasleys. The fact that Hermione had suggested something to him that would hurt Potter was already a step in the right direction. Tom knew he couldn't afford to let that opportunity slip and not use her suggestion. But he had no plans whatsoever to let Granger win and leave the little redhead alone from now on.

He smirked. Granger would be really upset when she realised the additional plan he had devised for Ginny Weasley and it was all based on her suggestion.

Another blast from Potter's wand drew him out of his introspection behind his desk and he realised it wasn't exactly safe to remain there. However, he couldn't risk duelling Potter, considering no matter what wand he used, it seemed to have strange adverse effects. Besides, Potter had seen him cast too many times. Whatever he did, he couldn't act as himself.

So, he let out an exaggerated frightened yelp and scattered on his hand and knees away from the desk to hide beside the cabinet next to the wall, as if he was worried Potter would blow up the desk and him next. His blue eyes wide, he held up his stubby fingers in a gesture of surrender, shaking with contained laughter that would undoubtedly be perceived as fear.

Harry blinked, realisation of what he had just done sinking in, while his wand still produced little furious sparks. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind from the images he'd just witnessed.

"I think that's enough for today," Lewis said, his voice slightly elevated, as if he wasn't quite over the shock of being under attack.

"No," Harry snapped, turning to the Healer, who cringed together, halting his attempts to get to his feet. "I have to see it all. Everything he did to Ginny."

"Mr. Potter, you've already tried to blow up my office and me over this first memory," Lewis reprimanded in his Healer's voice, rising slowly out of his kneeling position on the floor. "It will not do you or Ginny Weasley any good if you fall apart on her. She needs your support now more than ever."

Harry opened his mouth to object, but the Healer held up his hand sternly, reminding him terribly of Minerva McGonagall and how she made the same gesture whenever Ron and he were caught at doing something inappropriate and tried to schmooze their way out of it.

"We will continue this at our next appointment," Tom said, knowing that the more time passed, the worse the experience would be for Potter. The wait would surely cause any attempts to sleep well to be in vain.

Besides, he needed it to end now, because the hour was almost over and his Polyjuice Potion would stop working. He walked to Harry, placing his hands on both the insipid boy's shoulders, and said comforting, "I've been doing this for many years now, Harry. If you don't take the time to get some distance and process what you have seen before you try to see the rest, it will traumatise you so badly, you might not recover." He squeezed the boy's shoulders. "I already have one patient in here over this; don't make me have to worry about you, too."

Harry clenched his jaw briefly and gritted his teeth.

"I am sorry," he finally said, breathing in deeply to calm himself. "I didn't mean to attack you. I was—"

"Upset over what you witnessed," Healer Lewis interrupted understandingly. "Anyone with a heart would be. I felt like wringing someone's neck when I first saw the memory, and I haven't even known her before. The things some people are capable of doing to another are just so—so ... revolting, it sickens me."

Harry nodded silently, frowning.

"Do you know when this happened to her?" he asked Healer Lewis, praying it had been just before she'd gone to the Burrow on vacation in March to never return, but knowing he wouldn't be that lucky considering the questions Voldemort had asked Ginny.

"September fourth, in her first week back at Hogwarts," Lewis replied with a professional distance in his voice.

Harry gulped. "But then ..." he couldn't voice it.

"Since her mind has blocked most memories of the abuse, I've only been able to extract a few incidents so far," Lewis said, pointing to the remaining four flasks containing the silvery memories. "But from my experience with trauma victims and from what I can put together due to those five memories, it is my professional belief that she's been raped and otherwise abused in a systematic, continuous manner over a long period, probably the entire time she was at Hogwarts."

Harry cringed and his shoulders dropped. "Why hasn't she ...?"

"Cracked sooner, told her parents, tried to get help from others at the school?" Healer Lewis filled in, shrugging slightly. "There can be many reasons: guilt, shame, fear, all kinds of ideas on 'What if I had done this or that differently?', concern over not being believed, rejected, or endangering others. But most of all, it wasn't safe yet. Even when she went into hiding with her parents, in her mind, they could get caught by him or his followers again, and it would start all over. The moment he died, the moment it was real to her that it was finally over for good, a small part of her mind allowed her to go back to some of what had been done to her and that led to her breaking down in the worst manner possible."

"So, it never was due to the journal Horcrux," Harry said thoughtfully.

"I never said that," Lewis corrected quickly. "She's not seeing Tom Riddle everywhere around her because she was raped by his followers, Harry. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named used her past experiences with him against her at another moment. Something he could never have done had she had sufficient treatment immediately after her first year," he paused, shaking his head over so much stupidity. "But I am getting ahead of myself. We'll discuss this at our next meeting. I have to attend to my patient now."

"Of course," Harry agreed fast for Ginny's sake; though he had so many more questions, he'd wanted to get them all answered now. "When shall we meet again?"

"Nurse Lorraine knows my schedule. You can make an appointment with her," Lewis said gently, guiding him out the door.

When the door closed behind him, Harry stood lost in the corridor, while Healer Lewis leaned against the hard wood, uncorking a flask and drinking it quickly. His already dark eyes turned blue again and he sighed, smiling broadly about such a well-spend hour. He'd even have a little time to spare to check on Ginny and inform the cup how helpful her suggestion had been, before returning to Hermione in Australia as Seth. His broad smile turned wicked and his eyes danced with merriment, looking forward to seeing what surprise his little Mudblood would have in store for him now.

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The cup heaved a sigh. Riddle had been "kind" enough to show her everything her suggestion had done to Harry before he left to go to Australia. She'd known Harry would be devastated when she'd come up with this plan, but she knew he would prefer to be the one to suffer over Ginny. And it wasn't like Riddle would leave him alone anyway. This way she could at least protect one of them.

Besides, she needed something good to make Riddle change his mind about completely destroying Ginny's mental state. To be able to target Harry Potter directly ... Hermione knew it would be irresistible to him.

And he had gone for it.

Now, she had to lure Riddle into the rest of her plan—one slow step at the time. It was Ginny's only shot of ever regaining her sanity. And she knew Harry well enough. Harry wouldn't break over this. He was strong. He always had been.

Her plan involved a lot of interaction between Lewis and Harry. Harry'd seen Lord Voldemort a lot—even from inside his mind. He knew his gestures and moves, his sentence structure, his intonation, the way he acted, everything. Riddle was bound to slip up eventually; she just needed to get them to meet more, especially since she obviously couldn't count on herself to do anything.

Merlin, how did she miss it? She'd been in touch with her conscious mind, feeling everything her other self felt, praying for her stupid counterpart to finally notice who was in front of her, and all this time, her other self had subconsciously known and not cared.

She had wanted to jump into the dishwasher on her own volition upon seeing the memory Riddle had shared with her of her counterpart screaming out his name in ecstasy.

How was this possible? Why on earth would her mind suppress such dangerous knowledge? Why, why, why was she allowing this monster, this-this devilishly handsome, intelligent, charming, powerful ...

The cup groaned.

Was this her fault? Could this be happening because she inhabited Miss I-Trumpet-Loyalty-As-Most-Important-Value's cup?

It had to be. She couldn't possibly fall for Tom Riddle on her own account, could she? No siree, she wouldn't. She wasn't that stupid.

Besides, he would never be interested in her anyway. She was a Mudblood after all and a Gryffindor and ... what the hell was she thinking now? Who cared if he was interested or not? She surely didn't. Because she wasn't interested. No, not one single bit. She had to keep her mind focused on her endgame: Harry!

Harry would defeat Lord Voldemort and she was going to help him achieve it, again.

No matter what.

No matter how.

No matter if ... it would destroy her, too.

And when it all ended and Harry would just remain victorious for a change, she was going to have a meaningful chat with her real self about what kind of man she should be fancying—no more Ron Weasleys and certainly no Tom Riddles.

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