Ginny let out a bone-chilling scream as his fingers closed around her wrist. She very nearly dropped her wand and her heart was in her throat as she tried to pull away. He had a strong grip for someone who looked so sickly. But the scariest bit, what was making her blood turn to ice in her veins was the look he was giving her. No longer the look of a sickly, but grateful woman, or a sickly but scared boy. No. That was the look of a murderer. She felt his glare rip through her and it was all but paralyzing. His fingers dug into her pale skin and it was a long moment before she gave a sharp tug to pull herself away. She stumbled backwards, knocking into the coffee table as she held her wrist to her chest, terrified of the man in front of her.