Chapter 2
When Ginny finally opens her eyes, she's in a foul mood. The sunlight streaming in through the windows is bright enough to banish any thoughts of rest. Instead, she pulls the covers over her head, clinging to the last vestiges of sleep before bolting upright.
Alive.
She was actually alive. Placing a hand over chest, she listens to her heart. The rise and fall as she takes a breath. Even the throbbing of her head and wave of nausea that sweeps over her feel like she was firmly rooted in her place in this reality.
A giddy smile makes its way across her face and she flops back onto the bed, I'm here. I'm alive. I'm safe. She wipes the relieved tears that threaten to fall and finally examines her surroundings.
The room was beautiful. The large windows had thick sage green curtains held together with golden holders, keeping them open to let the morning light in. The marble flooring glittered where the light bounced off it. Soft, silk sheets covered the bed she was sitting on, the fabric under her fingers so smooth, it felt like water. Thin and delicate lace trim decorated the canopy of the bed. Furniture made of ebony decorated the room, their surfaces polished and unblemished.
It was a room fit for a princess.
So, the master of the castle has finally deemed her worthy of entry into his precious castle, eh? Perfect, Ginny thought sarcastically, all I needed to do was bleed all over his front yard.
Gingerly, she touched the bandages wrapped around her head. At least they had the decency to treat her injuries after ignoring her cries for help. Now, good manners dictated that she offer her thanks to her saviour…
She knew those etiquette classes would come back to bite her.
Grumbling, Ginny moved to the edge of her bed to grab her wand only to find nothing on the dresser.
No.
With rising panic, Ginny pulled open each drawer, clawing around for her wand.
Nothing.
The dresser was absolutely empty.
Frustrated, she slammed the drawers closed, moving to stand up and paused as she glanced at her reflection in the floor-length mirror.
She was dressed in a white, chemise gown with a high neck collar. Ginny had not been wearing a chemise nightgown last night. Her cheeks flushed an angry red. How dare they! Any gratitude she felt had immediately evaporated in the face of her humiliation and embarrassment.
With half a mind to teach the bastard who owned this place a lesson, she stormed out of the room. Or at least, she tried to before sagging against the doors as her vision started to swim.
Bloody spiders and their venom.
For a few moments, she stood there, holding onto door handles carved into snakes, her forehead pressed against the heavy wood. Maybe…maybe chewing them out could wait…
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Trailing a hand against the wall, Ginny desperately tried to feel for any sort of give in the solid, stone wall. The candle that rested at her feet would be out soon and she would be left with no light at all. Her feet were raw from the hours she had spent walking around this twisted corridor.
And yet, there was no escape. Incensed, she clawed at the expensive wallpaper, smiling in vicious satisfaction at the large rip that exposed the dark stone underneath it.
“Not so perfect now, are you?!” She snarled at the wall, clenching her hands as her body vibrated with the force of her rage. “Why don't you show yourself already?!” She screamed. But just as no one had responded to her banging and shrieking hours ago, there was no answer now.
The skin on her hands had split open, and were throbbing in pain from hitting the wall over and over again. Her legs had no strength left after running circles around this cursed hallway that was enchanted to only lead in direction-the infernal room she had woken up in.
She had no wand and no way out. And the only source of light she had was already melted down to the size of a galleon. Ginny curled against the carpeted floor and buried her head in her arms.
“I want to go home,” she whispered against her knees and burrowed further into herself.
“Then it seems I might be of assistance,” a voice offered as Ginny scrambled to her feet.
The portrait frame above her that had been empty previously now had a figure of a man in it. He looked to be in his fifties and gazed at her with a soft smile on his face, his dark eyes kind and his deep brown hair brushed away from his forehead.
When Ginny’s glare didn't abate, he only chuckled. “Ah, forgive my rudeness, young lady. It has been so long since we've received any visitors, I seem to have forgotten my manners.”
He placed a hand on his chest as he bowed. “My name is Edmund Selwyn, welcome to the Gaunt Manor, honoured guest.”
“Gaunt Manor….?” Ginny murmured. She hadn't heard about any Gaunts-
"It's extremely unfortunate,” Aunt Muriel mused as she delicately sipped on her tea. “The boy is handsome, yes, very much so. But it is also his manners- impeccable and graceful to a fault. Why if it weren't for his bastard status, he would be ruling the social world!”
Ginny had only been listening half-heartedly to Aunt Muriel’s tirade, not really interested in high society gossip about some new lord claiming the title of an ancient and noble house that had long since fallen.
The news had made waves because everyone had believed their family had met its demise when the former Lord Gaunt had passed away with his only son and heir in prison for violent behaviour towards muggles. That was when Tom Marvolo Riddle had arrived claiming to be the son of the previously eloped Lady Gaunt and charming everyone with his powerful magic and quick wit.
“So you must be speaking of Mr. Riddle,” Ginny said, looking to the portrait for confirmation. “He must have been the one who saved me.” After having thrown me to the wolves.
Having read the distaste in her expression, Edmund looked amused. “It seems my nephew has offended you. Though knowing him, that's not surprising at all.”
“Nephew?” Ginny asked, raising a brow. “You seem quite different from the stories I've heard about the uncle.”
“I should hope so!” Edmund laughed with his eyes twinkling, making Ginny’s lips twitch before she quickly adopted a stern expression. “But yes, I am Tom’s great great great great uncle from a branch family, removed from the main line. Since it is a mouthful I tend to call him my nephew instead. Much easier don't you think?”
“And it doesn't give away your age,” Ginny nodded.
Edmund gave a bark of laughter at that. “How very astute you are, Miss…?”
“Weasley.” She supplied quickly.
“Miss Weasley,” Sir Edmund began, “it would be my honour to escort a lady as charming as you. That is, of course if you wish for me to.”
“Well, Sir Edmund, I believe I do.”