Ties in the Soul

Author's Note 1: This chapter contains sexual abuse that probably amounts to torture. My beta described it as 'almost' too dark.


Chapter 4

His fingers dug into her throat, as he pinned her against the wall. Blood was already dripping down from somewhere on Ginny’s forehead. She didn’t know which of his blows had broken skin. She was finding it difficult to breathe.

She tried to spit in his face, but couldn’t suck the saliva up her windpipe. All she managed was to gag pitifully.

Tom smiled down at her. ‘We need to get this filthy Muggle clothing off.’ He grabbed the neck of her T-shirt with his free hand and pulled.

The front of the shirt tore away.

‘Oh, Ginny, these are lovely.’

Her freckled breasts hung loose – she hadn’t worn a bra. Tom caressed each one, his thumb lingering on the taut nipples, while his left hand tightened around her throat.

A dizzy static began to eke away Ginny’s vision.

‘Can’t… bre –’

He dropped his grip and she plummeted to the floor.

‘Oh you poor little whore.’

She pulled her head up and glared at him.

‘Did you think this was a game?’ he asked. ‘That you could use me as your sex toy?’

‘You talk a lot… for a sex toy … hope I… kept the receipt…’

He kicked her in the ribs – she grunted under the impact – but like every move he made, it was sure, precise, without anger.

‘You have made a choice, my little one. A good choice, a beautiful one. You brought Tom Riddle back from the dead for one sunshiny afternoon.’ His white teeth shone brightly. ‘And now we must explore the girl who made that choice, find out just what she is under that Gryffindor bravado.’

He stood silently and the two met eyes, nothing hidden, everything known. Slowly, he took a step away from her. She tracked him every step of the way. He turned his back to her and picked something up off the bed.

‘Oh yes, I remember this well.’ He pointed the ash wand at her. ‘We did great things together. We will do so again. For you see, Ginevra, you and I must pull back the veneer of skin and explore the blood that pumps out of your heart.’

Ginny forced herself to her feet.

‘That’s my wand.’

The red slash of magic cut down over her cheek and across her breasts. She staggered. Blood welled up from the cuts, streaking down over her pale skin.

‘Not any more,’ said Tom.


***


‘This is just typical of her,’ said Mrs Weasley, leaning her strong forearms on the kitchen table. ‘Running off cock-headed. She’s probably chasing after that Skeeter hag, thinking that anger will solve everything.’

The Weasleys plus Hermione had met back at the Burrow.

‘How about Harry?’ asked George.

‘I thought he was with you, Ron,’ said Hermione.

Ron shook his head.

‘Wonderful,’ said Hermione drily, ‘now they’re both missing. Was there nothing at all at the Ministry, Mr. Weasley.’

Mr Weasley was facing the other way, by the door into the Living Room. He didn’t turn.

‘Mr Weasley?’ Hermione repeated gently, stepping towards him. Then she saw what he was looking at. ‘Oh my.’

‘I think…’ said Mr Weasley, finally turning around, ‘that whatever we choose to do, we are going to have to do it quickly.’

Behind him, the Weasley Family clock had Ginny’s hand pointing to Mortal Peril.


***


Harry walked calmly into Borgin and Burkes. Apart from two customers, the store was empty. Harry had seen it in busier days and was rather pleased to see that business was bad.

‘My, my,’ said Mr Borgin, breaking off from talking to his customers without so much as a farewell, ‘Mr Potter in our humble store. Why I don’t believe we’ve ever had this pleasure.’

Harry looked at him. ‘You’re wrong.’

‘I’m sure I’d –’

‘I’ve been in here twice.’

‘Really, well I…’

‘I need information and I will pay you for it.’

Mr Borgin smiled brightly. ‘Information is just one of the services we offer, so long as you can foot the bill.’


***


‘Will you submit?’

She looked at him dizzily through the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. ‘Not at… this present time… thank you…’

He struck again.


***


‘I do seem to recall a customer matching that description, Mr Potter, but you must forgive me – my memory isn’t everything it used to be.’

Harry leant closer to Mr Borgin. ‘I’ve offered you money – what is it you want?’

‘There are some elements in the new government who have got rather the wrong impression of our establishment. They seem to think, ridiculous though it is, that we are some sort of Dark Arts establishment.’

Harry raised an eyebrow. ‘They do?’

Mr Borgin seemed to take this as encouragement. ‘I am hoping, sir, that if my memory returns you might see fit to smooth over this unfortunate confusion. It’s having a most deleterious effect on our shipping and supply contracts.’

‘I see.’

‘Do we have a deal?’

With an elaborate sigh, Harry crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Will you tell me something, Mr Borgin?’

‘Of course.’

‘Do I have the words “easily manipulated sap” tattooed on my head this morning? Because seriously, you are not the first person to attempt this sort of bollocks on me, but you’re at least somewhat more intelligent. So I’ll make this very, very simple. This is a Dark Arts establishment, indirectly responsible for the deaths of many fine wizards, a list which incidentally includes my old Headmaster – so if you don’t want me to take a personal interest in shutting you down, you will tell me what I want to know.’

Mr Borgin smiled sadly. ‘Oh, Mr Potter, I’m very disappointed. I thought we could bridge gulfs of misunderstanding together, but as it is, it looks like I am going to have to turn a blind eye.’

Harry blinked. ‘A blind eye to what?’

‘Crucio!’

A curse struck him from behind; the world dissolved in pain.


***


He had transfigured a pillow into a dildo and rammed it up her arse. It was still there and Ginny thought she might be bleeding from it, but she didn’t care.

Tom’s fingers were inside her cunt and he’d found a spot that Harry never had.

‘My sweet little Ginny,’ he whispered, ‘your moans give you away. Will you give me what I want? What you want?’

She ignored him, savouring the waves of sensation shooting out from her centre.

In one swift move, his slickened fingers came out and his hand slapped down on her vulva. She jerked under the blow and drove the dildo further up her battered arsehole.

Tom saw the extra flinch and must have guessed the cause. He slid up her body and whispered in her ear. ‘It will hurt like hell the next time you go for a shit.’ He laughed lightly. ‘That’s if you ever shit again, of course.’

As the pain and pleasure receded slightly, Ginny mustered her fight and tried to struggle out from under him. He placed his hands on her shoulders and slammed her back into the floor.

‘To think of that,’ he said, his voice becoming tender, despite the interruption. ‘That these might be your last moments of life. But you knew that was coming, didn’t you? You know I will destroy you. I have to. That is your fear, after all.’

Her heart lurched. Was that regret in his eyes? ‘You have to break me first,’ she whispered.

He slid back down, so he was staring intently at her cunt. Carefully, he spread her lips, drew back her hood and left her bare to the cool air. ‘You can win yourself time, fierce little soul, but only so much.’

Ginny groaned. It was so wrong to have herself so bare, so open and weak, and to have him talk in that coldly detached tone. And the wrong of it inflamed her body: exposure became a fire in her blood.

‘What you can’t win yourself, what you forfeited as soon as you brought me to life… was hope.’

One finger grazed the erect nub. Her body jerked. His finger was dry; the sensation half pleasure, half pain. He leant in closer, so she could feel his breath on her clit. It was as if he was talking to it alone, as if Ginny and her clit were one thing.

‘Take this little girl, for example. Standing to meek, desperate attention. She can’t help it – shy and tiny, though she is – she pleads for my touch.’

Tom licked his finger and brought it back, but this time, he traced circles around the central point, savouring Ginny’s frustration.

‘You see that, Ginevra, don’t you? You are betrayed on every level. That flawed soul of yours, the beautiful, supple body… this proud little clitoris.’

He pinched hard.

Ginny screamed.

‘It leaves you so, so vulnerable.’


***


‘Oh, that felt good!’

There were two of them. Harry recognised neither.

Borgin peered down over his spectacles at Harry’s crumpled body. ‘Mr. Potter, this is, as you keenly observed, a dark arts establishment – therefore it is unsurprising that you chanced to encounter certain members of my clientele who do not like you.’

Harry gritted his teeth. He’d felt worse Cruciatus curses. ‘Aurors will trace me here.’

‘An excellent point.’ Borgin waved his wand at the window and brought the blinds down. ‘Gentlemen, I need you either to bring this to a conclusion now or take him away. I will need to report to the authorities, of course, and I can’t plead helplessness if you use my premises for a long, drawn-out death.’

One of the attackers had an old lined faced, decked out with curse scars never healed. ‘We should at least lay out our grievances before the little chap.’

‘I don’t really have a grievance, Al,’ said the shorter one, who Harry thought had cast the first curse. ‘I just think it’s exceptional amounts of fun to be able to torture and murder Harry Potter.’

The older man, apparently called Al, turned to him, eyebrow raised. ‘You don’t care that his lot put my boy in Azkaban?’

‘Uh, yeah, that too…’

Harry spotted his wand five feet away. He must have dropped it when the curse had hit him. If he could only get a few seconds to dive for it, he might stand a chance.

‘Mr. Borgin, may we have five minutes. We’ll claim to have restrained you, if this ever gets out. And we’ll pay.’

‘Very well.’

‘My thanks, Richard,’ said Al and he levelled his wand. ‘Because I want to make this boy dance – Imperio!’

Even as the wave of distanced bliss hit Harry’s mind, the little part of his brain that could throw an Imperius curse off with ease sighed in relief.

He now had even more than a chance.


***


Ropes had appeared from somewhere. Her legs were spread wide. His hand was back on her throat. His cock rammed in and out of her.

‘Our first time,’ she whispered, tears streaming down her face. ‘So many times I’ve dreamt, and fought the dreams… and now, like this.’

Cuts ran down her torso and over her back.

Her arse cheeks must be bruised black and blue, and she could feel a little trickle of blood running out from her crack. Her left eye still let her see well, but the bruising around her right gave her only a slit of sight.

And at some point, the bastard had come in her hair.

‘Our first time,’ he repeated, teeth gritted as he pounded into her once more. He looked down at her, smiled, and delivered a savage left-hand blow to her battered right tit.

A pressure was building in Ginny, as her body gave him what every last shred of decency in her would have denied. She knew she would come around his cock. It was inevitable that she would thrash and shudder her pleasure, and scream out her ecstasy as Tom Marvolo Riddle fucked and raped her.

‘Oh, beautiful Tom,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t fight you.’

He laughed. ‘We discovered that a long time ago, did we not?’

She gazed up at him. ‘You sweet, fucking bastard.’

Pulses of feeling surged from every part of her, racing to her centre, finding a dam, waiting for it to fail, building up for Ginny’s surrender, for homecoming as all the blood flooded back into a body reborn.

‘Do you submit?’

‘Yes.’

She screamed as she came.


***


Even Harry was a bit disappointed by their lack of creativity. Stand on one leg? Pretend to be a chicken? It was a relief when the arm-flapping, bent-kneed hop brought him within a foot of his wand.

He pretended to fall, scooped up his weapon and rolled.

‘Incarcurus!’ he shouted. One fell, trussed up from head to toe. ‘Expelliarmus!’

The wand of the second one flew up in the air. ‘Repulso!’ Harry whispered, with relish.

Al went flying backwards against a large, antique cauldron stand. He slumped down to the floor. There was a slim possibility he was dead.

Harry spun. He had his wand at Mr Borgin’ throat before the shopkeeper knew what had happened.

‘If I were you,’ he said, a forced smile splitting his face, ‘I’d want to spend as little time with me right now as possible.’

Borgin took the hint. ‘She’s… uhm… at Mrs Moffledeck’s, end of the alley.’


***


Ginny knelt at his feet.

He looked at her, just looked for several minutes. Ginny felt savoured, valued: a loyal pet.

‘Serve me,’ he whispered. ‘Make me come one last time.’

They would both be gone if he killed her. Yet somehow following his order meant more to her than such petty realities.

Tom was already naked, of course.

She licked his feet first: carefully, with an awareness of his dignity. Then it was time to come up, to face what she wanted, at long last. His cock was beautiful. Of course, Ginny’s imagination must have made it, but she loved it all the same. Some recess of her mind might have fashioned its girth and length, but it was her body, her pain and her submission that had made it hard.

Now she would make it come.

Ginny’s last act on this earth would be to use her tongue and her lips, her tits and her throat. To combine them in an act of total submission to a man she despised and hated, a boy who was inside her, who had been the dark heart of her when she could not allow darkness in herself.

He kicked her hard in the breasts. ‘Get on with it, bitch.’

She doubled over, but forced her head up. ‘Yes, my lord,’ she whispered.


***


He blew the door off its hinges, arriving just in time to see Tom Riddle’s cum spatter across his girlfriend’s face.




Author's Note 2: I have written a Chapter 5 but it's a very odd one. Very dark, again, but in the wrong way - not really erotic at all. If I decide to post it, it will be up next week, but if I decide to rewrite it, it may take a little longer.

elphaba - thanks so much for your enthusiasm!

Salon_Kitty - I really appreciate your thoughtful, detailed reviews. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!