Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1226425.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Tom_Riddle/Ginny_Weasley, Voldemort/Ginny_Weasley, Ginny_Weasley/Ron
      Weasley
  Character:
      Tom_Riddle, Ginny_Weasley, Ron_Weasley
  Additional Tags:
      Age_Difference, Underage_Sex, Oral_Sex, Vaginal_Sex, Incest, Sibling
      Incest, Brother/Sister_Incest, Chan, Open_to_Interpretation
  Series:
      Part 3 of Discoveries
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-23 Words: 1539
****** Dark Discoveries ******
by enthusio
Summary
     Ginny's first year was not what everyone thought it was.
Ginny never told anyone what really happened with the diary.  She knew that if
she told them of the boy with dark hair and a hypnotic voice and how he carried
her into his world when she was crying alone they'd never understand.  Worse,
they'd want to know she had been crying in the first place and she couldn't
tell them that either.
It had been her first night at Hogwarts, but really it had started a year
earlier.  It had taken her several days to tell it all to Tom.  Tommy, for that
was what she had taken to calling him.
He had been so patient while she explained.  She would dash off a sentence
here, a memory there, and always when she next looked would he have responded
with a question or a bit of encouragement.  Most importantly, he'd never been
horrified or tried to tell her she was wrong for feeling the way she did.
Ron thought she was wrong.  That was the only explanation she could come up
with for why he'd suddenly started ignoring her when he went to Hogwarts.  Mum
and Dad said it was normal, after all, it wasn't as if Percy or the twins wrote
to her when they were in their first years.  She just had to be patient, they'd
all be back in summer.
Except Ron wasn't back in summer, not really.  He was there physically, sitting
next to her at breakfast and hogging the mashed potatoes at dinner, but he
didn't talk to her.  Didn't tell her about his adventures with dragons and
giant chess sets and three-headed dogs.  Didn't come into her room at night.
 Didn't lay on top of her so she could feel his weight and heat.  Didn't rock
against her so that she reached that feeling she could never seem to get by
herself.
it wasn't until she met Harry (Harry Potter!) and Hermione that she understood.
 She was his sister.  It hadn't occurred to her until then that if sex (and she
was pretty sure what they did was a sex thing) was something married people did
and people didn't marry their siblings then she shouldn't be doing it with her
brother.  She knew Mum and Dad shouldn't find out, but they didn't tell Mum and
Dad plenty of things.  Things that didn't feel nearly as good as Ron's penis
rubbing against her.
Ron had figured it out though.  He'd gone to school and been around people who
weren't family and he'd understood sooner than she had.  Then he'd come home
and probably thought she'd understood too because she always caught on faster
than he did and so he'd stopped.
The problem was, Ginny didn't want to stop.  She wanted her brother and his
nighttime kisses back.  She was sick, somehow.  She was sick and maybe Ron knew
she was sick and now he hated her.
Tom didn't hate her though.  Tom listened to her and when she'd fallen asleep
on top of the open diary that night he'd taken her to his safe place.  His
hidden world where she could hide away and no one would notice.
She had been surprised when she'd woken up away from her bed that first
meeting.  Surprised, but not afraid.  She could feel the boy she'd spent days
confiding in so she sat and waited for him to show up.
When he did she'd realised he was older than she thought.  Older and handsome.
 She hadn't objected when he put his arms around her and pulled her head to his
chest while she cried.  Nor when he'd tilted her chin up and kissed her
delicately.
Listening was what drew her to Tom, but the kisses were what kept her coming
back.  She could remember very little of that year, but she remembered every
one of his kisses.  Soft ones when she'd been crying.  Possessive ones when
she'd mentioned Harry.  Fierce, controlling ones with one of his hands tangled
in her hair while the other grabbed her bottom so his erection was grinding
into her when she'd done something to make him proud like make the only perfect
potion in class (even if Professor Snape would never admit it).  She liked
those ones the best, even if she had been a little frightened the first time.
Everyone thought she'd stolen back the diary because she was afraid of what
they might find out.  They were wrong.  She knew no one could read what she'd
written because Tom had told her and she trusted Tom.  She'd stolen it back
because she was addicted to his kisses.
She knew as it was happening that there was something wrong.  She didn't care.
 Tom was all she had and she wasn't going to give him up.  Not even when she
realised that as she was getting weaker he was getting stronger.
She first noticed it the night he had taught her about oral sex.  She had
climaxed more intensely than ever before and then blacked out.  When she came
back around three of Tom's fingers were still thrusting inside of her and he
was gently licking around what she had recently discovered was her clitoris.
 her own fingers were sore from where she had gripped his hair.  Gripped his
hair so tightly that a few strands were now in her hands.  Dark strands, darker
than she'd thought his hair was.  He'd come up to kiss her and she'd noticed
that his cheeks had a newly rosy tinge.  Then he'd started suckling one one of
her newly forming breasts and she'd stopped caring.
Years later, when she was an adult with children of her own, she'd find a book
that told her why Tom had only ever pleasured her, even going so far as to kick
her out of his hide-away when she'd gone to unbutton his trousers.  It also
explained why he had waited until that final day to fully claim her.
She had been weakening steadily for months when he asked her to take the diary
to Myrtle's loo and point it at one of the taps.  She knew that Tom was the
only thing keeping her alive, that had he wanted she'd have been dead several
times over.  She could feel it now, feel her life slipping away with every lap
of his tongue.
She could also feel him holding back.  Feel him taking only what she could bear
and often feeding a bit back into her with his kisses when he'd gone too far.
He did the same thing that night.  She had entered the Chamber to find it
glittering with thousands of floating candles.  In the centre of the stone
floor was a nest of blankets softer than anything she had ever felt.  And
sitting in the middle of the blanket nest was Tom.  Her Tommy.
He had carefully explained to her that this would leave her even weaker than
usual.  That she would be giving up nearly all of her life force in order to
make him real, but that he would be sure to give it back to her.
And he had.  He had gently stripped and caressed and prepared her before
removing his own clothes and finally allowing her to do whatever she wished.
 She had been slightly frightened at the size of him, his nearly full grown
cock seeming monstrous compared to Ron's juvenile penis.  He had giver her time
to get used to it, even going so far as to let her swallow him down after
suckling at the head (she couldn't begin to take all of him in her mouth).
Then he had laid her back and slowly begun entering her.  She could still
remember how they had gasped in unison when that first inch had slid in.  He
had looked into her eyes the entire time, seeming to enter her soul as he
entered her body.
Everything after that had been a blur of gasps and whimpers and grasping hands
and finally an intense, white light as she reached her peak.
She had blacked out then, as she did every time they met now, and awoken to
Tom's face lax with pleasure as his cock throbbed and spilled his semen inside
of her.  He wasn't meant to do that, they both knew she had started her period
earlier in the year and neither of them knew contraceptive charms.  She had
wanted to question him, but had still been too weak.
The book had answered her question for her.  She hadn't understood most of
Harry and Tom's conversation, she had been slipping in and out of consciousness
and aware only of the reassuring sensations Tom was sending through their newly
formed connection.  She hadn't even been able to respond when she felt that
connection break.
Now she knew.  The book had said that semen passed through vaginal sex is the
only way to fully transfer the life force between a man and a woman.  Kissing
and swallowing semen are faster, but ultimately less effective.  Only by
ejaculating into her could Tom have given her not only what little life force
she had just given to him, but also everything that was left of his.
He had been trying to save her.
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