2. Alone & Helpless

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling.

Summary: This story deals with the choices of Draco, Ginny and Lucius. What path do you choose when you are facing Darkness? Will you survive in the face of your worst nightmares? And most importantly, do you even have a choice or are you just a pawn in a game you don't understand?

Chapter 1: Alone & Helpless

Some years earlier:

Ginny Weasley, sixteen-years-old and at the end of her sixth-year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was a fairly carefree, pretty red-haired girl whose happy-go-lucky attitude had made her many friends in the last two years. The incident in her first-year had been as good as forgotten by most, including her.

She had grown from a shy and timid child to a lively and outgoing young woman, determined to make the best out of life and the chances it offered her. She had been kept protected for the last couple of years, her older brothers looking out for her when they thought her in need of it.

Which they did many times.

Despite that protection, she still met with a dangerous situation, now and then. At least when she stumbled right into it.

Hurrying toward the castle to join the end-of-term festivities in the Great Hall, she tripped over a small rock and fell.

Cursing herself for her clumsiness and for being late again, she felt her right hand which had been scratched pretty badly by her fall, when a shadow fell over her. She looked up, startled, when a curse hit her and the world blacked out.

XXX

A throbbing headache wasn't the nicest way to be awakened. It didn't matter too much, though, as she woke up in a dark room, with no hint of light to break the blackness.

She was too terrified to notice the pain, panic gripping her heart with memories of times better left forgotten, invading her brain, and wounds that she had thought healed, breaking open again.

`The Chamber, I'm in the Chamber, he's going to kill me…' She forced those thoughts down. It wasn't possible; this couldn't be the Chamber... that was years ago…

Breathing in and out slowly, she tried to regain control over herself, tried to get her thoughts sorted.

She listened intently, the darkness pressing in on her, too afraid to get up from where she was lying. The ground was soft, probably some kind of mattress. The air was damp and smelled of decay, and nearby she heard the soft drops of water hitting the ground in a steady rhythm.

A dungeon probably, she thought, feeling as if a cold hand were gripping her heart again. Ginny felt her heart beating like it was going to burst out of her chest at any second, and she desperately struggled to regain her calm.

She reached out to feel the area around the mattress; it was cold, and somewhat moist stone. She gathered all her courage and slowly crept off the mattress. If she wanted to find out where she was and how to get out of here, she had to take action.

She didn't know how she had gotten here or how long she had been out. She didn't even know who had been the person hitting her with the hex.

It had all happened so fast, she had had no time to recognise or identify anyone, or at least she couldn't remember now, no matter how hard she thought about it. Who would want to harm her?

She started creeping carefully with her hands reaching out before her, feeling the wet, stony ground and the air above her.

Nothing.

She kept inching forward until her hand hit a wall. She started to edge along the side of the room, feeling for a door.

There had to be a door, some way to escape the darkness!

She tried to get up, but her knees felt too wobbly; her head felt like it was going to explode.

She rested her forehead against the cold wall for a while, then crept on, determined to find a way out. Not to be helpless again...never again. She had sworn that to herself so many years ago.

Her heart practically jumped when she reached out and her fingers didn't touched anything.

Then something wooden - a door. She searched for the handle, frantically, her search growing more and more desperate when she didn't find it, didn't find anything.

There was no handle.

She cried aloud, and the first sob escaped her lips as she crawled back to the mattress and hugged her legs tightly with her arms.

Helpless. Again.

XXX

Ginny was lying on the mattress, her whole body aching and her mind in a state of numbness. She felt like she had been there for days, crying and screaming, but still no one came.

Now she was too tired and too worn out to cry anymore. She was terribly thirsty and hungry. Her eyes couldn't penetrate the darkness and she felt like it was already seeping into her soul, filling her with utter hopelessness.

Suddenly, there was a sound somewhere.

Footsteps.

She opened her eyes and sat up, desperately listening, hoping that it was true, that there was truly somebody coming, that she wasn't mad already.

Maybe it was Harry and Ron coming to save her, like they had done before. They must surely have been looking for her and now they had found her...she thought she could hear them talking outside, laughing... Oh yes, it had to be them; if anyone was capable of finding her, it would be them.

Finally, there was light. It was streaming under the door, the first rays of light that she had seen after what seemed like an eternity of darkness. And light brought hope, the hope that it was over, that she would be saved and could go back to her life, her family, her friends.

Then the sound of a key being turned, and the door opened. Ginny looked at the door and she smiled with anticipation as a shadow appeared in the opening, her eyes still used to the darkness and unable to focus on the person's face against the light from outside.

Harry and Ron.

Then it dawned on her that it was only one person, slender and tall, much taller than either one of them. The shock swept over her like a wave of hopelessness and despair and she cried out, not wanting to believe her eyes, not wanting to see anymore.

The man laughed cruelly at her pain and fear; after all, it was what brought him the most pleasure.

She knew who he was, she had seen him before, and she knew instantly that it had all been for nothing. All those years of trying to forget and move on, all those years when she thought she had finally managed to put the past behind her and forget what he had done to her.

Oh, not he himself, but he had masterminded it all, had set her up for the experience that had almost destroyed her, almost killed her.

Lucius Malfoy.

He stepped into the room and it was instantly filled with his presence, breaking down all her defences and crushing all her hopes with just one smile, which never did, and never would, reach his eyes.

Lucius smirked at her fearful look and at that moment, he knew that he would have his fun with her, that he would have something to pass the time. As long as it didn't come too easily. That was his worst fear: that it would be too easy; that it would go too fast.

After all, she was already a broken toy.

But her fear and pain made him feel powerful; he could almost feel it washing over him in waves; he could smell it and suck it into his own soul with deep breaths, filling the void that was always there and could only be filled by suffering.

Suffering of others. And she would suffer; there would be more pain and more waves of fear rolling over him soon, and he would not even be able to compare it to this moment... It would be so much more powerful.

Ginny felt paralysed as she looked into his pitiless eyes, which she was sure knew neither love nor mercy. He was the predator; she was the prey. She knew that all right; after all, she had once been marked by Malfoy's master, who had taught her fear and betrayal.

“What do you want from me? Why are you doing this to me?” she asked him, her voice trembling from fear and thick with emotion.

His voice sounded like crackling ice when he replied. “I am going to teach you pain.”

And then it ripped through her with so much force, as if he were trying to tear her soul from her body, and she screamed, screamed like she never had before. There was no room for fear, no room for any emotion; the pain filled her body and soul and left no room for anything else.

His pleasure was immense as he cursed her over and over again. This was one of those moments, one of the moments that he lived for, one of the moments that he eagerly anticipated every day.

The rush of power made him feel alive. When he finally had to let go, the disappointment was nearly overwhelming, just like every other time. The joy never lasted much longer than the torture itself.

But he was not to kill her; she still had a purpose to serve. His plans had to be fulfilled; she would be perfect for it, even though she was second-hand material.

He had dreamt about it one night; he had seen the perfect way to get back into his master's good graces. It had all been laid out, and even though Lucius didn't really have a history of visions, this dream had just been so incredibly real that when he had awakened, he had known that she would be the one.

His master would be pleased if he succeeded, and if he didn't, he wouldn't care too much anyway. There was nothing to lose. At least not for them. It was a chance to get back in his good graces; a chance he had to take.

He looked at her slumped form on the floor, still shaking from the pain that had been inflicted on her. His mouth curled into an ugly smile.

“This was only the beginning, girl. Somebody else will take over. He will take it from here and he will be your teacher, as of today.”

Smirking at her, Lucius found that thought rather unpleasant, but after all, he had other matters to attend to, more important matters than his little project down here.

Alliances had to be formed and allegiances had to be pledged, there was a lot of work for someone like him. But he was confident that the Dark Lord's plans would work out in the end.

Ginny didn't hear him leave; she didn't notice the return of the darkness. She wasn't able to think; the pain filled every fibre of her body, reaching to the deepest corners of her soul.

As it started ebbing off, it was replaced by an emptiness.

The darkness was pleasant now, much more than before because it meant that she didn't have to see. She felt like she was being sucked into a deep black hole, down to a place where she had never wanted to be again, where her life, her soul and her sanity were at stake.

She was scared now, no doubt, and still in pain.

But she had survived and, right now, fear was good. It meant that she was still able to feel and think straight. She knew it was the only thing that could keep her from the insanity.

Last time she had survived, too. They had come to rescue her. What were they doing right now, she wondered, were they searching for her, was her family worried?

Most definitely. They loved her and they would always be there for her.

That was the thought that she had to hold on to, that could keep her going. Hope was the only thing that could keep her going.

But then, hope always dies last.

-->

3. Teacher

Chapter 2: Teacher

Ginny was sitting at the kitchen table in The Burrow, close to the heated stove which was warming her back and adding to the peaceful and welcoming atmosphere of the house.

Her mother was cooking and it smelled absolutely delicious; her mouth was already watering; after all, Mum was cooking her favourite dish: a 'Weasley-Style'-Steak, as she called it.

The windows were open and she could hear the birds singing outside in the garden; she could see the flowers in full bloom, shining bright in their different colours in the warm summer sun. The house was full of laughter; her brothers were upstairs, having a playful argument. Just then, her mum let out a muffled moan, dropping the pan she had been holding.

"Mum, is everything okay, have you burnt yourself?" Ginny asked with a worried tone in her voice. Her mother turned around, blood running down her face: out of her eyes, her nose, her mouth.

"Of course, darling, nothing is wrong. You wanted your steak bloody, didn't you?" her mother answered, an affectionate smile spreading on her face.

Ginny gasped in shock; fear gripped her heart, making it nearly impossible for her to move.

"Mum, you're bleeding, can't you see that?" she whispered, wanting to get up and help her mother, wanting to wipe the blood off her face: the blood which was now coming in heavy streams, soaking her mother's robe and forming a large puddle on the floor.

Molly looked at her, her eyes now bloodshot, and she smiled, but this time it was not a warm smile; it was a cold, terrifying distortion of her face, merely the mockery of a smile, and she said: "Didn't I tell you you'd be the death of me yet, girl? You make me bleed; you make my heart and soul bleed. Always out running around, worrying the life out of me. Just like back then. You're doing this deliberately, aren't you?" Her voice was menacing, taunting. "But this time we aren't going to come for you; we aren't going to fall for your little games, anymore..." Molly laughed cruelly, more and more blood dripping from her mouth as she laughed and laughed...

Ginny cried aloud, wanting to tell her mother that she was wrong, that it wasn't like that at all. She wanted to reach out and comfort her and be comforted in return, wanted to hold her and tell her everything was all right, that she had never meant to hurt her.

But it wasn't possible.

She wasn't there; she was somewhere else, somewhere dark and lonely, far away from her mum and the rest of her family.

'It was just a dream,' she told herself as she cried silently. 'Just a dream.'

But then, reality wasn't any better either. She felt drained, lying there in the darkness of the dungeon, not knowing her fate, not knowing what would happen to her. She felt terribly exhausted, not wanting to think anymore, especially not about what had happened the last time she had been awake.

She had been laying in the darkness for quite a while when she heard a sound outside the door. Someone was coming to her prison, but this time she dreaded it, her mind filling with panic; she was too afraid of seeing who was out there and what he would do to her.

The door opened mercilessly, no matter how much she wished for it to remain closed: just this time, just to be safe. She started to beg as the door opened: beg for him to please not hurt her, she was just a girl, not important at all, why didn't he just let her go, no one would notice...

The man walked in, dressed in black robes, not reacting to her fear and her begging.

At first she thought it was Lucius Malfoy, but when her eyes started to get used to the light, she recognised that it wasn’t him at all. It was Draco Malfoy, Lucius' son.

She felt relieved at first; he was just a little bit older than she. He hadn't got on with her brother and Harry at school, but surely he couldn't be that bad, he was still young after all. But when she looked into his eyes they were cold, and she knew he didn't care: not about her, not about anybody, apart from himself.

"I am your new teacher, and you will do as I tell you, whatever I tell you and whenever I tell you," he said with a voice devoid of any emotion. "You will learn to be obedient; you will learn to follow the Dark Lord's and my father's orders, coming to you through me."

And then he said the word that she dreaded, of course had always dreaded - because every decent wizard did -, but she especially dreaded it since her last meeting with Lucius.

"Crucio."

Draco watched the girl writhe in pain, her body twisting and twitching on the floor, ear-piercing screams coming from her mouth. He didn't particularly care for this, unlike his aunt or even Lucius, but he knew what he had to do.

He hadn't been all too pleased when he had first heard about this assignment, but he certainly knew better than to disobey Lucius, anyone who did paid dearly, he knew that from firsthand experience.

He kept on for what seemed like a long time, growing increasingly bored. He was glad when the girl finally passed out; there was no point in continuing right now; she wouldn't feel anything anymore, anyway. He would just continue tomorrow.

This was already a task that he didn't like - it was going to be too lengthy and too boresome for him - and he silently cursed Lucius' little project. He didn't take much pleasure in torture, and he wished someone else would do this, but he knew that wishes were something for fools, because they never came true anyway, no matter how bad you wanted something to happen. That was something he had learned from first hand experience, too.

He sighed and walked out of the room, locking the door to the cell, leaving the girl behind. There was even more work waiting for him today: an appointment with Lucius later on and, right after that, a meeting with a select group of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord.

He walked out of the dungeons, using a secret staircase and door that led into one of the many side corridors in the West Wing of Malfoy Manor. He strolled down the corridor and onto the main one leading up to his private quarters. The pictures of his ancestors sneered at him as he walked past, making hushed comments about his lack of enthusiasm at his new position.

He was never enthusiastic about anything anymore, especially not since he had completed his studies at Hogwarts and returned home about a week ago.

Draco sneered at a house-elf and told it to go and take the girl some food and drink; his father wouldn't be pleased if she starved to death and ruined his plans. He slammed the door to his quarters shut and started to change for the afternoon meetings.

XXX

Later in the day, as he walked down the main staircase, on his way to the library, Draco's mood sank even lower.

'Whose wouldn't, with the happy prospect of meeting Lucius,' he thought, grimacing to himself.

He walked into the library and, seeing his father's expensive cognac by the fireplace, decided to serve himself with one. This was his father's favourite, after all; he wouldn't be happy to see him drinking it away... His mood lightened a little bit: it was only a small pleasure, but pleasure nonetheless.

"Enjoying yourself, are you?" a cold voice drawled from behind. Draco turned around and toasted Lucius, a cold smirk firmly in place.

"Have you seen to the girl already Draco? You know how important this is to me; I expect you to follow my plans carefully and to the letter."

"I am well aware of that, Father, thank you, and yes, I am working on it."

At that point Draco felt the Dark Mark burning on his arm, and for once he was actually relieved; it put an end to the short conversation, and without a word of parting, he Apparated away.

Returning to the Manor half an hour later, Draco felt tired. He knew he was on a one-way street, and that he had been on it for a while. The decisions that he made now would be irreversible, though; there would be no way to ever turn around and walk away from them; they wouldn't let him: not the Dark Lord, not Lucius, not the wizarding community.

The Dark Lord had given Draco assignments and missions that he would be in charge of, and he had actually given him a group of Death Eaters to command. Most Death Eaters would have seen this as a great honour, but Draco didn't.

All this wasn't going as he had wanted it to. He felt overwhelmed by the role that Lucius and the Dark Lord had decided for him, and he had been feeling like this for a long time.

It had started a couple of years ago, when he had still been in school; and Lucius had had him attending Death Eater meetings on the holidays, reminding him of the role he expected him to play. It had always been crystal clear that Lucius wanted him to follow in his footsteps; the path had been marked since Draco's birth.

Back in the early days, he had sometimes wished to rebel against it, to free himself of the expectations and limitations that it brought. But now he had this ever-present feeling that it was too long past the time for that.

The feeling bothered him, but what bothered him even more was the notion that he was actually becoming someone that he had never wanted to be. He had already started to fill the role that had been set out for him. And the most terrifying thing was that deep down - in the deepest corners of his mind - he knew it was hopeless.

He sensed the coming of something powerful and dark, and all he could think about was that it was going to swallow him whole, until there was nothing left of him. And he knew that it wouldn't only be him. The girl would be forced to follow in his footsteps, just like he had to follow in Lucius' footsteps.

Lucius' plan would ensure that. He would break her in a way that no one had ever done before, but Lucius would make sure that she didn't end up like the Longbottoms. Insanity would surely come, but in a different way; they still had a purpose to serve. Plans had to be fulfilled, even though they were only a product of Lucius' twisted mind.

It seemed that one day he had suddenly decided it might be a good idea to recruit some people into the Dark Lord’s ranks, some people that no one would expect to be Death Eaters. He had told Draco he had already come up with a perfect candidate: the Weasley girl.

Draco sighed heavily and shoved those thoughts away. He had had only one real choice: it was do or die. He had to fulfil his orders or face the wrath of both the Dark Lord and Lucius.

But right now, he had to come up with a plan to attack and destroy a prominent wizarding family; he had to succeed in taking on his first assignment.

There would be many such missions in the near future, he thought darkly, as he was now in charge of sabotaging and creating havoc in the wizarding community. Basically: random maiming and killing. All wizards were supposed to fear the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters; everybody had to know that nobody was safe from his wrath.

He had to prove himself worthy of his position and show that he was ready to play a key role in the Dark Lord’s future plans. Draco didn't know what those plans were, and wasn't sure if he wanted to know, either.

XXX

Down in the dungeons, Ginny was slowly coming back to consciousness. The pain was everywhere, and her thoughts were in desperate turmoil.

What if this was never going to end? What if no one ever came to rescue her? She would just die down here and nobody would ever know; her family would never know why she had disappeared or what had happened to her.

In the darkness of the dungeons, she hugged her knees and wept silently.

4. Victories & Losses

Chapter 3: Victories & Losses

Draco awoke with a start in the middle of the night, cold sweat covering his body, his sheets damp and chilly. He had had a nightmare, like every night in the last few weeks, since he had been given these two assignments. The girl and the attacks.

He looked around the dark room, a feeling of fear and guilt running rampid in his mind. The moon shone outside, casting an odd silvery light, a twilight zone feeling that surrounded him and engulfed the whole room.

Shadows were everywhere, frightening him, even though he knew what they were in daylight.

The screams were still ringing in his ears. In his dreams they always screamed, all the victims. But the screams that tore his heart the most were the girl's.

The ones that he actually heard everyday, the ones that he caused everyday. The others were still to come. His first mission, the first attack, it was tomorrow. Or today, after all he didn't know what time it was right now.

It would all be over tomorrow, doom would be upon him. Once he launched the attack, he would be stuck with them forever, doomed to follow the path of darkness till all eternity, to the gates of hell and back if it need be. Once he crossed the point of no return.

Tonight was the last night he would be free, the night before he would have to do the unthinkable.

But it didn't have to be, he thought to himself.

All he had to do was get up and walk through the corridors, walk to Lucius` bedroom and end it there, end it forever.

All he had to do was take Lucius` dagger from his chest of drawers and plunge it into his heart, his cold heart and stop it from beating ever again. And he would be free.

Draco sat up in his bed and slowly put his feet on the cold floor of his bedroom, shuddering slightly as his feet touched the ground. It was necessary, it was his last chance - his last chance to do what he should have done long ago.

He walked through the room, towards the door and out into the corridor. The manor was dark and moonshine was the only light around, shadows lurking in the corners, shadows that seemed to be creeping, but he walked on.

The feeling of unreality was all around, he almost felt as if he was watching somebody else walking through the large halls of Malfoy Manor. All was still; only his soft footsteps were heard around the empty hallways.

His feet seemed to direct him towards Lucius` bedroom with a will of their own. The door drew nearer with every step he took until he was standing right before it.

His hand trembled as he opened the door, no sound being heard, nobody being awoken.

The enchanted dagger Lucius carried around everywhere he went and never left apart from when he went to sleep, was lying on the antique chest of drawers beside the bed, its silvery blade reflecting the moonlight and gleaming with a terrifying beauty, luring Draco to take it and do what he had come to do, so that he could live.

He reached out and took it, holding his breath as his fingers first touched the ice-cold silver. He moved to the bed and looked at Lucius as he was lying there, sleeping, breathing peacefully in a steady rhythm.

His father looked younger when he was sleeping, Draco thought suddenly. He looked different - peaceful and almost innocent. Little did he know the danger he was in, the danger that was coming from his own son.

Draco closed his eyes in agony and tried to force down the feelings that surged through him but it was too late. He looked at his father and he knew he couldn't do it, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much he needed to.

There was still a tiny part in him that loved his father, as much as it was possible for him to love. A part that loved him despite everything he had done to him and everything he would still do to him. He loved him for the sole reason that he was his father and that overruled all the hatred and all the contempt he felt towards him.

Draco suppressed a sob and put the dagger back into its place while he retreated from his father's bedroom. Tears started streaming down his face as he made his way back to his rooms. So the old man had really got to him at last - tonight Lucius hadn't done anything and still gained his biggest victory over Draco.

He started running down the corridor, wanting nothing more than to get back into his bed so that he could pull the covers over his head and forget his weakness and his failure. Finally Draco reached his rooms.

He closed the door behind him and sealed his fate.

*~__~***** ********** *****~__~*

Meanwhile, down in the dungeons, Ginny lay awake on her shabby and dirty old mattress, staring into the light of the small magical lamp, which was hanging from the ceiling. She briefly wondered what her family would be doing right now, but her thoughts were in turmoil so much lately, she couldn't hold on to any comforting thoughts any longer.

She didn't know how long she had been here, held captive in these dungeons. But it must have been for quite a while already, and it seemed like an eternity to her.

She had never felt so alone in her life, not even in her first year at Hogwarts and she had never felt so utterly hopeless before.

There was always pain, this place seemed to be radiating it, and it wasn't only her body that was hurting, her soul was hurting so much more. Sometimes she thought she heard screams from outside, from the other cells, but then she realized that she was the person screaming.

He came to her everyday, whenever she finally started to feel a little bit better, just when the immense pain seemed to ebb off a little bit, he was there again.

And then it continued, an endless circle of pain and relief, an endless circle of despair and hope. But it was getting worse every time he came, and the despair grew. She ceased to hope that it would be someone coming to stop the pain, whenever she heard footsteps outside.

It was always him, only once it had been Lucius again but that had been even worse than the other times, when Draco came.

She couldn't see how she would ever get out of this place, they would never let her go, they would surely kill her before they would ever let her walk out into the sun again. She would never see her family again.

But maybe death wouldn't be so bad. After all it would end the pain and the suffering that never let go of her.

Ginny thought of an endless darkness where she wouldn't have to feel ever again, and this comforting thought put her to sleep at last.

*~__~***** ********** *****~__~*

Early in the morning, Draco woke up with a headache. He continued to lie in bed for a while and looked out into the pouring rain outside, the sky was now grey and clouded, hanging deep over the Malfoy lands.

He looked out of the balcony door onto the vast green fields outside, steam rising from them, and the only thing he felt was exhaustion. He had missed the last exit and had given away his last opportunity to escape the darkness.

With all the power he could muster, he dismissed all thoughts of last night.

At last, Draco got up reluctantly. He still had to prepare for the attack tonight. The Dark Lord had wanted him to draw a lot of attention to his attacks and Draco thought that attacking a high profile but not overly protected target would be the best way to catapult them into the headlines.

An attack on the wizards that they all thought well protected, would shock the wizarding society and let them know that they were out there. And that nobody could know who would be next.

First he had to do his daily round with the girl though, since he probably wouldn't be able to see to her tonight or tomorrow.

Draco got ready and spent some time trying to swallow some food that tasted of nothing. He was clearly nervous about tonight and cursed himself for that, he seemed to become some sort of weakling lately.

He couldn't afford that at all right now, if he made a mistake tonight, he would be dead faster than he could say „Lord Voldemort“. If he failed or got caught his slow demise would be guaranteed.

„Get your act together, Draco“ he told himself and made his way to the dungeons.

*~__~***** ********** *****~__~*

Ginny woke up abruptly as she heard someone approaching. She knew what it meant; she knew what was coming. She started to cry before the door even opened, strangled sounds escaping from her mouth as she lost control over herself, fear and panic taking over and wiping away all thoughts.

And then, Draco walked into the cell, his mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

„Why are you always crying, little girl? It's not as if anyone's going to hear you down here. You are all alone here, forsaken...“ Draco said and knelt down to touch the girl's cheek. She shuddered away from his hand, and he smiled at her mockingly.

„You know that I'm the only one who can help you. I am the person who rules over you, I am the one who decides your fate,“ he whispered into her ear as he stroked her hair with false gentleness, causing her to shiver violently as if she knew what was coming. She probably did though, considering what she had experienced those last weeks.

„Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?“ the girl said suddenly, surprising Draco, because she normally never spoke, apart from the begging when he entered the dungeons.

He gripped her hair hard, and yanked her head upwards.

„Look into my eyes, girl. This is far from over - on the contrary, it is only the beginning.“

He pulled her roughly by the hair to the back wall of the cell, muttered a single curse and the chains that were hanging from it, fastened around her wrists and ankles.

Panic washed through Ginny as she desperately tried to break free from the chains. It wasn't possible, she could barely move and every time she threw herself forward the chains yanked her back hard, causing her head to hit the stonewall with a loud thud.

She didn't stop trying though; she couldn't stop because she had no rational thought anymore. It was all about surviving. She didn't feel the pain that she was inflicting on herself, and she didn't notice the blood running down her neck from the wounds on the back of her head. All she knew was that she had to free herself, free herself at all costs...

Draco just looked at the girl's futile attempts at freeing herself. Even if she ever escaped the dungeons, she would never escape the manor. Lucius had put a locating and a bonding spell on her, that made sure Draco always knew where she was.

And what was more unpleasant, he even knew what she felt, he could feel some of it himself, making it possible for him to wait for the moments when she felt relief from the pain, when hope returned, only to have him destroy it again.

Draco felt bitterness rising up in him; he knew Lucius had done that spell for several reasons. One was a tactical reason - Draco would be able to torture her better when he knew her feelings. The other one was that he would always know what pain he was inflicting - this one was meant to torment Draco.

He gripped her throat and stopped the girl from banging her head against the wall. He choked her until her face started to take a purple colouring and threw her back against the stone. She slid down the wall, blood running out of her nose and adding to the bloodstains on her dirty robes. Her eyes were glazed and unfocussed but she was still conscious.

Draco pulled a small knife out of his robes and knelt down next to the girl. The knife looked harmless and not very sharp, but it was an enchanted blade. The smallest cut from that knife left a burning wound that made you feel like your whole body was burning up. It gave you a fever that brought along hallucinations of terror and death that would last for days.

Draco slashed it across the girl's chest with one swift movement, hard enough to draw blood.

Her eyes instantly became focussed again and she cried out in agony, her screams ripping through him as he felt a burning sensation on his chest. It didn't mirror the real pain of the blade in the least, it was just meant to serve as a reminder of what he had done...

The girl was twisting in front of him now, trying to reach her chest with her hands, trying to dig out what seemed to be eating her from the inside. The chains were too short though. She couldn't reach the cut, but she continued twisting and turning and she would do so until she would faint from exhaustion.

Draco walked out, ignoring the nagging pain in his chest. Now all he could do was wait for tonight.

*~__~***** ********** *****~__~*

Draco was standing on the balcony of his bedroom, watching a pale moon rising in the eastern sky, breathing in deeply to take in the fresh and cool air, a soft wind playing with his air and ruffling his robes.

He was wearing black tonight. Darkness was falling rapidly and the air cooled off as the sun set behind the hills, the western sky glowing crimson, while shadows crept across the land, alive in the imagination of those who fear the night, welcomed by those who dwell in darkness.

Draco spread his arms, letting the cool breeze float over his body, his senses sharpening, the wind reviving his spirit as he enjoyed the amazing feeling of freedom.

The sun and the moon would not cease to exist because of his fate, they cared not for one small human like Draco Malfoy, and the world would still be turning when they were all long gone.

How could he ever have thought, he would be able to face the tide and fight a destiny that had been determined even before his birth?

He spun on his heels, his black robes whirling behind him, and walked through his quarters down to the entrance hall.

Five figures were standing in the hall waiting for Draco, all dressed in the same dark attire as him, invisibility cloaks at the ready. All six put on their cloaks and apparated into Muggle London.

They walked the streets in silence, invisible to any human eye, both muggle and wizard. That night the shadows were truly alive, and the dangers lurking in them were real. They moved through the streets swiftly until they suddenly stopped.

They stood in the middle of a deserted street and looked onto a redbrick, old-fashioned department store, which had “Closed for Refurbishment” signs on its doors. A large signature said „Purge and Dowse, Ltd.“, the letters faded from time and weather.

The building looked run down to anyone who didn't know what this building really held, to anyone who didn't know magic.

A front window held a creature that gave people the permission to enter, if they had business within the building.

The six had business. A small flickering of a wand, and the creature winced in pain, not knowing where it came from or how to stop it, and the men entered the building through the window. A silencing charm made sure the screams of the creature went unheard.

The reception area was almost deserted at this time of night, only a few lamps were on and the receptionist was the only person in the room, half asleep in her chair. The woman didn't notice anything as the Death Eaters moved passed her to the stairs at the side of the hall.

Draco felt the blood rushing through his veins, as he led the men through St. Mungo's, his heart beating violently in his chest, but the thought of someone hearing it only thrilled him more.

Excitement, fear and terror were fighting relentlessly in his very being, as he knew there was no way back anymore, now that it had started. The pieces had started to fall into place.

They moved up the stairs and passed several floors until they reached a door that read „Spell Damage“ on it - the fourth floor.

The long-residents ward was behind these doors, and the targets were too. They walked through the door and towards ward 49.

Draco held his wand clutched tightly in his right hand, wiping off his sweaty left hand on his invisibility cloak.

At that moment a man, dressed in the lime green robes of the hospital staff, walked out of a ward on Draco's left. The man's eyes widened in terror as he saw the single hand in the air and he opened his mouth to scream.

Draco knew that the man had seen it. He knew from the look on his face that the man realized the situation. And he knew it was his mistake, he had been unfocussed and nervous - it was his duty to react, to secure the success of the mission and to make up for his lack of concentration.

There was only one thing he could do now - kill the witness. His arm shot up and he muttered the words, before the man could scream and betray their presence. The healer fell to the ground, instantly dead.

The man's eyes remained open though and continued to stare at Draco, burning themselves into his soul forever at that very moment.

Draco felt something breaking in himself, and another part of him took over, acting out what he had planned earlier, with almost mechanical precision. It was the only way he would ever be able to see this through.

The Death Eaters opened the door to ward 49, which had five people lying in it, sleeping in their beds. They put a silencing charm on the ward and killed three of the people instantly as they were not important for them.

Draco motioned his men to wake the other two up, they couldn't die in their sleep, the terror in their faces had to be visible for the tales and for the reports in the Daily Prophet.

The Longbottoms opened their eyes slowly, not comprehending the situation.

They didn't recognize who the attackers were, but Draco ordered one of the dark-clad men to refresh their memory. The Cruciatus curse made them convulse in their beds and look at them in fear. Then they yanked them from their beds while they screamed, a mindless whaling that sent shivers down Draco's spine.

Alice Longbottom lunged at the Death Eaters as the pulled her out of her bed; she tried to bite and spit at them, struggling against being overpowered. Another Cruciatus sent her to the floor though, twitching and vomiting as she lost control over her body.

Her husband was thrown against the wall, and fixed against it by one of the men who plunged sharp blades into the wall, through the crying man's hands.

At that moment Draco felt as if he was going to vomit any minute. He couldn't take it anymore, they had to end it there; it was enough.

„Kill them now“ he hissed to his men and watched them perform the killing curse.

They walked out the same way they had come in, stepping over the body of the healer on the way out.

*~__~***** ********** *****~__~*

Back at the manor, Draco was desperate to take a shower. He dismissed the Death Eaters and stormed off to his rooms, starting to rip off his clothes as he got into his quarters. He stayed in the shower for more than an hour, trying to wash off the pain and the dirt that he felt on himself. It didn't work.

He went out onto the balcony where he had stood earlier that night to feel the wind against his skin again, hoping it would take away the memory and the shame, bringing back the sense of freedom he had felt earlier. It didn't though.

He screamed out loud as emptiness filled his heart, and the wind carried his screams away.

-->

5. Rise Of A Red Sun

After The Frost

Chapter 5: Rise Of A Red Sun

Draco slowly walked down Diagon Alley, looking into the shop windows as he passed by.

It was a Saturday and many other people were around, the atmosphere was hectic just as every other Saturday but today there was a slightly different air to it.

Many witches and wizards had worried looks on their faces, keeping their children close by their sides, while they did their shopping.

It had been all over the news for the last three days, and still there were no leads to the attackers, no one knew their identities.

All they knew was that the Death Eaters had struck again, after almost two years. Back then the return of Voldemort had shocked the world and everybody had expected terrible years to follow.

But nothing had happened - there had been no prominent figures attacked by Death Eaters, no known killings of muggles - nothing. And they had started to hope, even though they knew that it was foolish.

Now something had happened and they were all afraid that it only marked the beginning. The beginning of those dark times that they had expected two years ago and by now had started to hope that somehow had passed them by.

An awful deed had been committed. Someone had tortured and killed helpless people in St. Mungo's. Helpless people that had already suffered so much in the past; had suffered so much while they put their lives on the line for the whole wizarding community. They had thought that those heroes had been well protected and well cared for at St. Mungo's but now they were dead.

Draco smiled to himself, but it was a thoroughly bitter smile. If only they knew. He had seen the headlines on the Daily Prophet and the other newspapers - the headlines that said “Longbottoms slaughtered at St. Mungo's” or “Helpless wizarding couple brutally murdered” and he had felt the painful knot in his stomach.

The newspapers also said that there were no leads to who had committed those atrocities; all they knew was that it had been Death Eaters. Nobody knew the extent of his involvement, and even if someone suspected that he was in with the Death Eaters, nobody would think him responsible - they wouldn't think that he was already in so deep and had gone so far.

Or sunk so low, maybe that was more appropriate, he thought to himself.

He had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't realized where his feet were taking him until he was standing right in front of it. The store sign read “Quality Quidditch Supplies” and the newest brooms were on display in the shop window.

He stepped closer to the window and thought of the past years, when he had been at Hogwarts playing Quidditch. If he had loved one thing about those years, it had been Quidditch. He had always enjoyed it, had liked to fly the brand-new brooms his father always gave him back then.

In the early years he had been mad about the fact that Potter had beaten him to the snitch most of the times, but later it hadn't mattered to him that much anymore. He just loved to play and it was one of the few moments when he could forget about the future and what was coming once he graduated Hogwarts.

His lingering about the past was cut short abruptly when someone addressed him, voice full of disdain.

“You still dare to go here after what happened, Malfoy?”

Harry Potter. Of all people that he could have been bumping into on this street, it just had to be him, Draco thought darkly - as if his day or rather his life wasn't awful enough already.

Then the meaning of what Potter had just said really dawned on him. But he couldn't have meant it that way; he wouldn't be here talking to him if he did. Potter couldn't possibly know, he thought, hoping that his face didn't show how flustered he really was.

Something that he had regretted many times in the past came in handy now - the fact that he didn't have any true friends. It meant that no one knew him well enough to be able to look past the surface. He just had to put on his usual cool front.

“Potter, what a nice surprise” he drawled, his voice leaking sarcasm like acid.

“I know that your family is one big breed of Death Eaters and you surely are one of them by now…tell me Malfoy, do you come here to mock all these innocent people with your presence?” Potter asked, giving Draco a cold glare.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. I won't waste my time on this”, with that Draco turned to leave, feeling his patience growing thin; he was in no state to deal with anything like this.

“Who are you trying to fool, Malfoy? I can see right through you, I know you are evil and I have known at school. You held back in the last years, but we never believed for one day that it wasn't just a front. Someday we will bring you down though, you and your whole family. And this is a promise.”

Draco just shook his head lightly as he walked away from Potter. That boy had no idea how right and at the same time how wrong he was with his assumptions.

But one thing about Potter's speech was not to be taken lightly. It wasn't only Potter who thought that Draco was like that, there were many others who would be all-too willing to believe it as well.

They would never understand him and if they knew what he had done, they would never spare him. It was what they expected of him and even more.

There was no way he could ever let anybody find out what he had done, not until he had strengthened his position. They wouldn't understand that he had had no choice - they couldn't understand that he had been forced to do it, that he hadn't been able to fight back any longer. And they would never believe that he hadn't wanted it at all.

~******~

Ginny awoke from her unconsciousness slowly, reluctantly. She felt like she was being dragged out of a comfortable darkness that she had come to appreciate over the last weeks and that she absolutely didn't want to wake up from. She tried to struggle against consciousness, but it came anyway, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She had been held captive for several weeks now, but she didn't know that. Down there, she didn't even know whether it was night or day outside, summer or autumn, sunshine or rain.

Her whole body was hurting, but that wasn't anything new. That was how it was everyday, every night, every conscious moment.

She felt as if she was being broken down into little pieces that had nothing to do with her anymore. Pieces that could be placed back together however one wished it, making up somebody altogether different than who she had once been.

She knew that she would be starting to lose herself the moment she stopped fighting, and she also knew that she never wanted that to happen. That was the thing that frightened her the most, not being herself anymore.

She had to start resisting, she had to find a way to do that, and then she had to start fighting back. If she didn't, she would be drifting into insanity soon, and her soul would be imprisoned in pitch-black depths forever, just what she imagined hell to be like.

That was a fate that she had to avoid at all costs because it would mean that she would never be able to truly leave this place - or at least the person leaving wouldn't be her anymore. Now was the time she had to gather all her strength and hold on to any straw that she could find. Now was the time to be strong.

And if it only was to pay that monster back one day. Someday, be it near or far, she would be able to get back at him, or even better, at both of them.

All of them.

They would all be crushed, they all deserved to die. But she wanted it to be slow. Slow and more than just painful - someday she wanted to hear them scream. She would make Draco crawl before her and beg, just like she had begged. She would make him scream from excruciating pain and she would enjoy it.

She knew she now hated him with her whole being, he who was responsible for her suffering and despair. The feeling revived her spirit; it put an ever-burning fire into her soul, making her feel a little more alive. And a little less as if she was withering away and fading.

It was a feeling that could pierce the pain and the darkness because it was burning red hot and bright like a sun.

Maybe it could keep away the dangers of insanity, which she had felt closing in on her when she hadn't been able to feel anything at all. That was a straw that she could hold on to, while she waited for the day that she would finally be able to exact her revenge.

It would be the day that made her complete again and she was sure it would chase away her demons that haunted her every thought now. She would kill him and free herself of his presence that seemed to fill her very soul and suck the life out of it. If she could destroy him, he would never hold power over her again.

But if that day was ever to come, she would have to be strong and live through it all. So that someday she could have them in a dungeon before her, doing all those things of which she hadn't known they were possible. Now she knew and she made up her mind that she would put that knowledge to good use someday. Near or far.

Revenge was something to live for, if you had nothing else. Hatred was an unstoppable force, it could get her far, damn it, it could even give her the power to reach for the stars. Tom had done it, he had been driven by a cause and a hunger, and nothing had been able to stop him. Not even death.

Maybe Tom had taught her more than she had thought, more than fear and betrayal. She would never have believed it a couple of weeks ago, but maybe, just maybe, he had given her the key to survival, all those years ago, down in the chamber.

He had known that sometimes you had to suffer to get what you want in the end, but you just had to let nothing and nobody stand in your way. You had to be driven in order to succeed.

If she was really good from now on, Draco might let her leave the dungeons someday. She could just pretend that she was determined to fulfil all his wishes and secret desires. But then, he didn't really talk to her or demand anything of her, so how would she prove to him that she had surrendered? And would it even matter or would he carry on nevertheless? Or she could pretend that she enjoyed the pain, but how would she ever be able to do that, when she couldn't control either body or mind when it started.

She had to try something though, the other options was going crazy down here without any chance of being saved and that was the worst thing that she could ever imagine. She had to face the fact that she was truly on her own and she had to take matters into her own hands. After all, she was still holding on, wasn't she?

~******~

Later that day, Draco was sitting in his study, looking at a map of Greater Ottery St. Catchpole. He had to orchestrate another attack to be carried out in the next couple of days.

They had to make sure that everybody understood that the world was changing and that the power was shifting as Voldemort's power grew day by day. Every man, woman and child had to know that the times they were living in were his times, his second rise to power.

Draco studied the map carefully, letting his eyes linger on a small spot, a little bit outside of the village. The Burrow - he knew that the girl's family lived at that place.

He supposed they would still be looking for her; they had reported her missing and as she hadn't returned a few days after she had disappeared they had actually gone to the Daily Prophet and asked anybody who might have seen her to come forward and report it to the ministry.

They were obviously worried about her, he thought, suppressing a twinge of guilt and jealousy - his father probably wouldn't care too much if he had been kidnapped. If Lucius did anything, he would do it because he would be enraged that someone dared to harm a Malfoy. Certainly not because he would be worried about Draco.

The Weasleys still had to play their role in Lucius' plans - or were they Draco's plans now?

He wasn't really sure about that anymore, after all if anything didn't go according to plan Draco would be the one to suffer from that. He would be held responsible for those actions, not Lucius.

That was an important change, one he couldn't dismiss easily. Maybe it was time to start putting more effort into his duties, after all if he didn't he would mainly be sabotaging himself. Draco thought of a saying that he had heard some time ago.

He had made his bed and now he had to sleep in it.

He put the map back on the table, as a knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come in, it's open.”

At that the door opened and Lucius walked into the room.

“I've come to talk to you about Wednesday.” He said while walking up to the desk Draco was sitting at, a cold smile playing on his lips.

“You did better than I thought you would. I expected you to fail miserably, but you almost managed to please me. Almost. Until I heard that you showed weakness. That will not be tolerated the next time…” Lucius hissed dangerously and leant closer, looking Draco in the eye, his eyes and voice as cold as a frozen lake on a January morning.

“You think you can fool us, boy, but we've seen your futile attempts at resistance. You pretend that you are reasonable now, but I know you still haven't fully accepted the inevitable. But we will not be deceived. Especially not by someone as weak as you. You let feelings rule your thoughts; you need to be taught a lesson this time. Bellatrix will accompany you on the next attacks. She will make sure that it's you who does the killings.”

Draco's mouth went dry at that thought. The eyes of the man whom he had killed at St. Mungo's haunted him every time he closed his eyes. How would he ever hold on if there were even more eyes staring at him?

Lucius sensed his uneasiness and liked it. He could still command respect and fear when he interacted with his son, he was played so easily. He knew how he ticked, ever since the early days when he had shown him that obedience was the only way.

That was what a father had to do, to ensure that his heir knew the proper ways, to ensure that they were passed down the bloodline. He had given the boy life and he could take it away just as easily. He was his creation, someone that he could form to his liking; that he could make or break. But Lucius had always been one to break.

“Don't disappoint me again, boy”, he said to Draco as he retreated from his study.

~******~

4 days later, on a starless night, 7 black-clad figures apparated onto a little field outside of a village. The sounds of water, coming from a small river, seemed loud in the dark night, clouds blocking the moonshine. There was a small house nearby, a shimmer of light coming through the upper windows.

The inhabitants of the house were unaware to the danger that they were in, soft laughter was sounding in the air. It would soon turn into screams though.

Draco led the Death Eaters to the house, easily taking down the few wards that had been placed on it.

The killing of a Ministry Official would be on all front pages.

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6. A New Morning

A/N: Please review, all constructive criticism is welcome.

Chapter 5: A New Morning

Amos Diggory looked up at his wife and smiled. She was ever so beautiful and loving, seeing her smile again was an incredible blessing.

Having the new baby had finally helped to soothe her pain about Cedric, her first-born whom they had lost in such a horrible way. It had given her a new purpose, a new light to fill her life and a new sparkle that filled her eyes.

Seeing her laugh, the candlelight reflecting in her hair, he felt like his heart was overflowing with his love for her. They had been married for so many years and they hadn't always been happy, but at that moment he wouldn't have had it any other way. As long as she was laughing again.

The door crashing open snapped him out of his reveries.

Black-clad figures moved into the room, and the laughter died. Amos thought himself thrown back in time, to a lone dark place three years ago, where his Cedric had once lain on the ground, unmoving and silent.

He hadn't been able to help him; he knew he had failed him. As a father he should have been there and died in his place.

Now the baby was upstairs. And yet, Amos couldn't move, he just sat on his chair and stared at the horrors that had come back to haunt him once more. And he would fail again.

He heard his wife screaming in the next room, in a way that she hadn't for three years.

The scream was filled with horror, fear and pain and it tore straight into his heart. He should never have married her; he should never have had a family with her. Then it would all have been different, she wouldn't have had to suffer like she did. Their son wouldn't have died and their new child wouldn't have suffered the same.

Draco heard the woman scream and he saw Bellatrix laugh like she was having the time of her life. He saw Amos Diggory sitting in his chair, an expression of disbelief showing on his face.

The man didn't move at all, but then why should he.

Draco didn't believe for a second that Lucius would ever have thrown himself in front of Draco or Narcissa either - and where was she now, dead and rotting away. Lucius might have been able to save her but he hadn't bothered trying, saving himself had clearly been more important to him.

That man was like Lucius, he didn't go out of his way to save his wife and child either. He was worthless scum who deserved to die after all.

Draco felt something burning inside him, something bright as the sun and yet dark at the same time, and he welcomed it when hatred filled his heart. It made it all much easier.

Bellatrix dragged the crying woman into the living room.

“You have come again, you are the devils that killed my Cedric, you are demons…”

Diggory's wife ranted on and on while letting out hysterical sobs and scratching her own face with her fingernails until it bled. She tried to throw herself at Bellatrix who just smacked her hard in the face and she fell down at Bellatrix's feet.

“You worthless piece of scum, all you can do is cry and whine, you sorry excuse for a witch. You are a disgrace to any wizard, crying like a muggle, I will give you a reason to cry”

Bellatrix screamed at the woman, her eyes glowing with insanity and power radiating from her very body.

Madness was hanging in the air all around them. And giving in to it for the first time, Draco felt it too.

Bellatrix was right they were whining and crying like they didn't know magic at all.

That man was too much of a coward to defend his own wife and child, he was a despicable ministry coward who just sat behind his desk all day long deciding the fate of the wizarding world when he knew nothing at all. He just stared at Draco and Bellatrix dumbfounded, his eyes wide and expressionless.

Draco stopped his efforts at trying to suppress the urge to stop the staring; he stepped forward and pointed his wand at the coward.

“Crucio.”

Bellatrix looked at him and laughed madly while Amos Diggory fell to the floor screaming and finally stopped staring at them.

He was in much more pain than that girl, Weasley, had ever been so far, because Draco had for the first time fully mastered the spell. He wanted to cause pain more than he ever had before and the hatred drove the spell to enormous power.

Draco licked his lips eagerly and for the first time he wanted more. He wanted to let all the pain and hatred that he had built inside him for so long to go away; he wanted to let it out.

He wanted to be strong for once, so they wouldn't be able to hurt him any longer, so that nobody would ever hurt him again.

He looked at Bellatrix and something passed between them. An understanding.

Had he seen himself, had he known what he looked like at this moment, he would have been terrified. His eyes held the same crazed look as Bellatrix's, and both of them laughed insanely.

But everything happened so fast, everything got blurry in the madness, in the screaming and the shouting. Draco heard someone screaming “Crucio” again and again and deep down he knew it was him, and he was terrified but at the same time he felt incredibly powerful like this was the answer to all his prayers.

All those people that he had always wanted to get back at, and now there was this stupid man, it was all his fault, all his fault that he didn't even help his wife, that he didn't even save her, that he was a cold heartless bastard who would force his only son to become something that he never wanted to be…

“Avada Kedavra!” Beside him Bellatrix screamed the same at the woman who already had not been moving anymore for the last couple of minutes, probably already dead.

He didn't care. What did it matter anyway? They only got what they deserved. They had only been punished for their wrongdoings. He felt a weird twitching at the back of his mind, wanting to tell him that something was terribly wrong here. Maybe he was going insane? But that didn't matter either. After all it felt so good, better than he had ever felt in the last year.

Then he heard the baby cry upstairs. Bellatrix looked up, their eyes met, and her smile grew wider. He knew what she was thinking and he knew he should have been terrified, horrified, and all at the same time. But today was different. It was a different day, a different life, a new morning.

~**********~

When Draco apparated back to the manor, he still felt the ecstasy and the energy washing through his body. He felt exalted, and even more, he felt vindictive. He walked straight down to the dungeons, to see that girl and smashed open the door, causing her to jump with fright.

But then she did something that surprised him a great deal. She struggled to get up and stood before him, looking him in the eye.

“I have been bad in the past, but from now on I will do as you wish, master.”

Draco sucked his breath in sharply. Did she really think that he was that stupid? Did she really for one moment believe that she could play him?

But then today was a day for new experiences. Maybe he should find out, and explore her mind deeper than he could ever have by just torturing her. After all he knew that having control of the mind was a much stronger force than having control of the body.

“Will you really my little pet?” he said slowly, a grin spreading on his face. “It may actually pay off if you do so…”

Ginny couldn't believe her ears. Her tactic was right; she had heard it. If she kept this up, she might actually be let out of here one day and then she could escape. Maybe she didn't fool him now, he surely was suspicious of her, but someday she would lure him into thinking that she really had changed and then she would make her move.

She had known it; there was hope yet. All she had to do was have the will and drive to go through with it and she would succeed.

“So what do you think is it that I wish, my pet?” he drawled, his voice just a low murmur.

“I could think of a great many things…but I am sure this is one of them,“ Ginny answered, locking her empty brown eyes with his cold grey ones.

She was standing so close to him, that they were almost touching, and she could feel heat and energy practically rolling from his body in waves, there truly was something powerful and different about him today.

She leaned forward slowly and touched his lips with hers. Her lips were dry and swollen, but pain was a small price for what she wanted to gain in the end. She kissed him again softly but determined and he yanked her forward roughly, pressing his lips on hers with force, sending a shot of pain through her body.

Only a splinter second later he shoved her away hard, making her stumble backwards against the wall.

“You might want to wash first, I wouldn't want to touch that.” He said coldly, looking at her like she was filth under his shoe. “I'll send the house elves to clean you up.”

With that he left her alone again, walking back up to the main rooms of the manor.

And despite, or maybe even because of his last comment, Ginny felt good. She felt powerful, sensing that she wasn't helpless anymore. It felt good that she had finally taken it into her own hands to make her situation better.

Obviously she couldn't count on anybody else, but she could make it on her own, she knew that now. She would learn to survive and maybe she would even learn to manipulate him.

Draco felt the blood cursing through his veins as he walked up to his rooms. Never had he thought that kissing that stupid girl would actually feel good. But it did.

And whatever might be the outcome; he would definitely be able to enjoy his little pet for a while. Maybe this would take his mind of other things, things that he didn't want to think about, now that the ecstasy was leaving his body and soul, enabling him to see things clearer again.

He remembered it all. Earlier it had all been happening in a daze, faster than anything, all tumbling out at once.

The feeling of power left him and it left him empty. What had he been thinking, going off like he had done? That man hadn't been Lucius after all!

And what had happened after…

He looked into the mirror in the hallway, and his face looked whiter than ever. He was as pale as snow on a winter's day, but apart from that he looked like always.

He looked normal. But he didn't feel normal and somehow he thought that he would never do again.

He should be scared, horrified, he should throw himself off the balcony for what he had done. But something had to be terribly wrong with him, because he didn't feel any of that. He just felt cold. And dead, he thought to himself, that was it, he felt dead.

Suddenly someone touched his shoulder and he spun around, his wand drawn. Lucius.

His father looked him over carefully and then he said something that he never had said before.

“I'm proud of you, son.”

That was the irony of it all. Finally his father said the words he had always wanted to hear, he said what Draco had longed for all his life. And now that it happened it didn't mean anything, it was worth nothing.

Draco smiled bitterly and just turned his back on Lucius, closing the door to his rooms behind him. He leaned against the door, sighed heavily and slowly slid to ground, burying his face in his hands.

Hearing his father say these things would have made him so proud in the past, now it just made him feel defeated. Which he probably was, if he thought about it rationally, after all this wasn't him, it was like he was somebody else now, somebody different.

This was what he had always imagined dying to be like, he hadn't been scared about maggots digging into his flesh or rotting away in damp dark soils. He had been scared by the thought of losing himself and forgetting who he was, afraid of losing himself in an eternal darkness, which he would never ever escape.

He wondered if Lucius felt the same as he did now. Did he even feel anything? And when had it all begun?

If his father had felt this for a long, long time, stretching back to before Draco had even been born, it wasn't surprising that he could never love him.

How could you love anything if you were empty?

~**********~

That night something occurred that hadn't happened in years. Lucius and Draco had dinner together in the great dining room of the manor. They sat next to each other at the great table while the house elves brought in wine, food and lid the candles in the dark but richly antique-furnished room.

The candlelight danced in the room and cast shadows onto the walls. Draco caught himself staring at the way the light reflected in his father's blond hair, which was so much like his.

Lucius slightly raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing and Draco lowered his eyes quickly, taking an enormous sip from his wine glass.

The silence stretched on and the tension was almost visible but the usual air of hostility was strangely absent.

Draco was increasingly uncomfortable, as neither of them spoke but they had never really had much to say to each other.

There wasn't much love lost between them and most certainly not after the last couple of weeks and yet Draco felt connected, it was as if he was at the edge of a deep abyss and the key to the dark, cold and almost lifeless heart of his family was finally within his reach.

All he had to do was take that one final step and he would know it all, he would grasp what had been a secret to him for so long. Their motivations, their past, present and future and who they truly were. All he had to do was become one of them. However he didn't manage to push away the thought that somehow he already had.

Downing his fourth glass of wine, Lucius finally spoke and thus ripped Draco from his thoughts.

“Did you know that my father, your grandfather, knew the Dark Lord when he was still at Hogwarts?”

Draco hadn't known that, but he could have guessed it, he thought to himself.

“Were they friends?”

“They shared some ideals and ideas, so in a way you could consider them allies, maybe even friends as far as that was possible with either of them. Of course the heir of Slytherin was always much more powerful than your grandfather.”

“Did he tell you about him?”

At that, Lucius chuckled softly and Draco almost choked on his wine.

“You could say that. He used to tell me about the glorious days when the heir of Slytherin would finally rise to power and the house of Malfoy would shine in the glory of his rightful and long overdue reign.” He said, his voice now flat and cold.

“He used to tell me how we would one day bathe in the blood of muggles and mudbloods and fulfil the legacy of Salazar Slytherin. He used to tell me many things.”

Just like you told me, Draco thought but didn't say it out loud. It simply wasn't important anymore because it was in the past and nothing would ever change it. He didn't fool himself into thinking that Lucius regretted anything because he knew that he wasn't even capable of that kind of emotion, something Draco understood now.

It wasn't his father that had changed, it was him. He could relate to him now, something that he hadn't been able to do before.

It was ironic if you thought about it, Draco rationalized, what kept them sitting at this dining room table wasn't any kind of rediscovered affection, it was the exact opposite.

It was the absence of feeling that enabled them to hold a conversation. Of course many people wouldn't have considered that a true conversation, but what had passed between them in those few moments was more than had ever passed between them in the 18 years before.

At the same time he knew that there would never be more than this. They were related by blood and by name and more importantly destined to be allies in their fight, but each of them would be on his own. Lucius wouldn't go out of his way to save him and he wouldn't go out of his way to save Lucius.

Their paths would cross and they would always be connected in a certain way, but they would always look out for themselves and never for each other.

It was the way it had always been and the way it would always be.

A sharp pain in his arm reminded Draco of more important matters. The Dark Lord was calling and he had to respond.

“I have to go.”

Lucius nodded at him knowingly and raised his glass for one final toast.

“You will do what you have to do. I have no doubts about that.”

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7. To Follow An Order

Chapter 6: To Follow An Order

Draco apparated into a dark hallway and he instantly knew that he had never been there before. The hallway was dark and deserted to both his left and right, dust dancing in the air in the few places where light pierced the darkness, revealing the decay of what had once been majestic and beautiful.

There was a large door made of old oak in one of the walls, a mere two metres away from him. He looked around but saw no other doors nearby so he carefully put his hand on the handle, feeling the resistance as the rusty, old metal moved.

The room he stepped into was an old library, there were shelves on every wall, filled with what had to be thousands of books, their backs darkened from the passing of time, their titles faded away and unreadable.

The fireplace in the library was cold and empty; there hadn't been a fire in it for many years. The tables and armchairs were covered with a layer of dust, confirming that this room hadn't been used for a long time.

It was incredibly cold in the room and Draco shivered involuntarily. He heard the sound of wind, howling around the mansion with that characteristic tune. Stepping up to the window, he looked down on a coastline, waves breaking on gigantic cliffs and foam squirting high in the air.

“The Irish Sea.” Said a hissing voice behind him.

“Mylord.” Draco turned around acknowledging him with a little bow of his head, feeling a cold shiver running down his spine.

Black robes were tangling around Voldemort's meagre body, only his bony white hand showing. His red eyes showed that impassionate look that only cold-blooded animals have - those that hide in sand or under stones.

“You did well on your last mission and even Bellatrix was surprised. She thought she would have another kill that night…” he laughed, his laugh sounding like fingernails scratching a blackboard.

“We will start an offensive soon. You are a promising young man and you will have plenty of opportunities to prove yourself and gain respect among us. You will work with Bellatrix more often now; she's good influence…” the Dark Lord hissed in a commanding tone that allowed no rejection. “Never forget who is your master, boy, and you will be rewarded richly. Forget and you will be wiped out completely with no one to remember you even existed.”

Draco nodded silently, having heard such warnings many times before from Lucius. No doubt it was true though, nobody would remember him because nobody cared for him.

He would be gone, just one of many who had disappeared, condemned forever, a hated name following him even to his grave.

“There's something I want you to do, something else than just take part in the offensive. I will have a meeting where I will inform you and everybody else about that, but tonight I have come to tell you about something else. I want you to find out as much as you can about the Order of the Phoenix and its members. Find out their identities, study their habits and their weaknesses. Be stealthy and patient but find something!”

With that the Dark Lord apparated away.

Draco sat down slowly in one of the heavy armchairs; dust rising as he absently drew patterns on the blood-red velvet.

The offensive would start, marking the beginning of the war. But if he thought about it, in truth it had long started. The attacks of the last weeks had been foreshadowing what was to come.

He knew nothing about the Order of the Phoenix, apart from some small rumours he had once heard.

The name was spoken in hushed whispers among the Death Eaters, especially those that had lived through the first uprising all those years ago. Albus Dumbledore was whispered in the same breath, but that was only logical.

Who else would form an order to oppose the Dark Lord?

Potter might be a member, too, making this a rather dangerous search.

Snape had always been Voldemort's eyes and ears inside the gates of Hogwarts, sending information from their bastion of light. What had changed for the Dark Lord to ask him to do something that Snape could have accomplished much easier?

Snape had to know about the Order, that fool Dumbledore wouldn't keep him at Hogwarts if he didn't trust him. And who knew, he possibly had a reason to trust him.

Likewise, the Dark Lord never did anything without a reason. It was either Snape or him that the Dark Lord distrusted more than usual, maybe even questioning their loyalty. There had to be a bigger picture that Draco couldn't yet see, some purpose behind his request.

He had said things about Draco being promising, but Draco knew words didn't mean anything. All that mattered in the end was whether he was useful or not. He would have to show him that he could be useful, a servant who did what he was ordered to do.

This was a test that he couldn't afford to fail.

Of course the easiest way to find out anything would be to go and pretend he wanted to join, but nobody would be mad enough to believe him or to trust him. All they would have to do was look at his arm and they would see something he would never be able to explain.

He would have to watch them from the outside, carefully following every move they made.

~~~************~~~

Draco woke up early the next morning after a night of restless sleep which had caused him to turn on the light three times because each time he had been sure that the rotten corpse of his dead mother was standing beside the bed, hovering above him. Only her eyes had been shining like they once had, when she was still alive, so full of accusation, so full of disappointment.

Never had he seen anything once the light was on, but he was tired of being in the dark room, so he got up at the first light of dawn.

He decided that an early morning walk in the grounds would be a good idea to get the remains of last night out of his head and help him to think clearly about what was to come in the next couple of weeks.

After taking a shower he walked out onto the fields surrounding the manor, wrapping his dark-green cloak tightly around his body to shield himself from the cold.

It was a misty morning and the sun hadn't yet managed to break through the fog, which was surrounding him as he walked, muffling the sound of his steps on the grass.

Maybe the girl knew about the Order. Her brother was Potter's sidekick after all and they were devoted fans of Dumbledore. He would make her talk and make her surrender all information she held about them.

A cool wind rustled his cloak, just as the first rays of sunlight broke through the fog and the birds started to sing. For a brief moment he thought he heard the faint cries of a baby but he knew it was only in his mind. The baby was dead, it would never cry again.

Once again he saw how the blade dug deep into its small body, the blood splashing against the little ferries that were painted on the ceiling above, as its heartbeat stopped. He saw how life left those little eyes until they broke. The dark colour of the blood against the light-blue bed sheets and rompers that soaked it up like a sponge soaking up water.

Despite all the madness they had remembered what had happened to Voldemort and had used a knife.

The wind played with Draco's blond hair, as he knelt by the little lake and carefully moved his hand through the cool water.

This wasn't the time to dwell on such things. The child was probably better off dead anyway, at least it had been fast. More than you could say for some, he thought, getting up and turning to walk back to the manor.

~~~************~~~

Ginny was sitting on her bed, staring into the magical light that emitted a soft glow that barely lightened the room.

She had been brought into a new cell while she had been asleep; she could tell that much, and this cell was different from the other. There was a bed, a clean soft bed and the rest of the room was clean, too.

Clean but empty, she thought bitterly. There was nothing apart from the bed and chains that were fixed to one of the walls.

This was just as much a torture chamber as the other cell, she thought as tears welled up in her eyes, and despite being clean now, she was just as much a victim as before. The only person she ever saw was the person who caused her all the pain and yet it was her only link to humanity.

And now she had tempted him to enter into a game that she had chosen. She had tried to lure him into her bed, something that he hadn't even hinted at until that point. She would have her first time with someone she hated for all he was, all he represented and mostly for all that he did to her.

But didn't they say that love was pain?

Maybe it was true since pain was the only thing that lived on in the darkness, searing and blinding even through the dark, while the faces of her family slowly faded away.

She tried to remember their faces but they always seemed to remain just out of reach, she was unable to grasp them and the memories slipped away like sand running through her fingers. Memories of happy days at Hogwarts faded to grey, it had been a different life back then, a different life that seemed so long gone and forever passed away.

Nothing was left in her life to remind her of the things that had once formed her, of the things that had once motivated her. She had found new motivations in the face of darkness and death but would they last? Or would they slip away into nothingness like the rest?

It was on her to make it count, it was on her to find a reminder. The pain would always remind her, piercing through the darkness like fire shining through an endless night. She would be ready.

And when the door to her cell opened hours later, she was ready.

He stood in the doorway, his blond hair and grey eyes gleaming in the soft light, looking almost angelic. So cold, so distant, caught up in his own darkness.

He closed the door behind him, leaning against it, letting his gaze slowly wander over her. His toy was pretty when she was washed and dressed properly; he had always had pretty toys.

Ginny got up from the bed, closing the gap between them with a few steps, her eyes cold but determined.

In the dim light of the cell they were only visible as a shadow gleaming icy-blond and red. Fire and ice. But underneath there was already a lot more ice than fire.

Ginny raised her head to look into his eyes and they were impassionate as always. He wouldn't make the first move, she understood that. He didn't care about her in any way, not even in a sexual way. She would have to prove to him that it was worth it, that she had something to offer that was of interest to him.

Moving forward without letting go of his gaze, she let her lips touch his for the second time in two days. His lips were soft but cold, just like the rest of his outer appearance, which was so incredibly deceptive and true at the same time.

There was nothing soft about the way his hand shot forward and gripped her throat, blocking any air from reaching her lungs, as he kissed her back hard and forcefully.

Ginny felt dizziness rising within her as she desperately struggled for air and her knees felt weaker each second, making her stumble against him. She gripped his arm and tried to push it back but her efforts were in vain.

He let go just as she was on the edge of unconsciousness and she flung her hands around his neck to hold on to him, leaning against him heavily. Tears ran down her cheeks as she held on to the only thing that supported her.

He softly wiped away the tears and held her, his hand caressing her back. She buried her face in his chest and he tenderly put his hand under her chin and made her look up. He kissed her tear-stricken cheeks ever so slowly, moving down to her lips, which opened up slightly as their lips touched.

She felt warm and soft, leaning against him and the images of the past days finally left Draco's mind as the kiss lingered on, deepening as their tongues caressed each other softly, weaving a pattern that they would get to know well over time.

Her breasts were soft and round against his chest and his hand wandered into her shirt, feeling her heart beat like it was going to jump out of her chest at any second.

Her shirt dropped to the ground, leaving her physically and emotionally exposed as he had effectively demonstrated his power over her.

His clothes joined hers on the floor and he shoved her back hard, making her fall back onto the bed, her head banging against the wall with a loud crack and she winced as first blood stained the sheets.

His eyes were ablaze with an inner fire as he lay down on top of her, his mind torn between wanting to kill her and wanting to love her. He would have neither.

Their hands linked above their heads and as he entered her, second blood stained the sheets.

A ripping pain soured through her and pleasure and pain bonded as they started to move in rhythm.

Ginny threw her head back and licked her lips, her whole body feeling as if flames danced over it, burning her up and consuming her.

What would her parents say, her brothers, all her friends if they could see her now? They would think that she had dirtied herself and how low she had stooped.

She moaned softly and the tears flowed again as they moved towards the climax.

How would she look them in the eye if she ever saw them again? Would they know?

She gripped his shoulders, her fingernails leaving bloody marks on his back and she held on to him, at that moment not wanting to ever let go and slip back into the emptiness. The blackness was inside them and all around them but right now she wasn't alone, he was with her, his darkness mingling with hers.

Draco sucked his breath in sharply as her fingernails ripped his flesh, warm blood running down his back. She was intoxicating, his senses in complete turmoil, coherent thoughts fleeing his mind with every move they made. He felt the fire of passion melting the ice and for the glimpse of a moment he was who had once been.

He caressed her hair and whispered sweet nothings into her ear as they came and Ginny let out a hoarse scream. They collapsed on the bed, exhausted and tired.

A few seconds later, Draco got up and dressed, leaving the cell without looking back.

Ginny was lying on the bed, blood on her inner thighs and in her hair. She closed her eyes, mentally and physically drained. She had encouraged this, it had been her doing. She had always imagined her first time being with someone loving and caring, not with someone so cold and removed.

Never had she thought of it as a demonstration of power, intertwined with a fiery passion and burning pain.

But she had made him bleed. It had been worth it after all.

~~~************~~~

Several hours later, he was back.

Ginny looked up and smirked, obviously she must have made an impression.

“You want more.”

If possible his eyes turned even colder as he spoke.

“You have no idea.”

The sneer on his face made Ginny cringe inwardly and she drew back slightly as he came nearer.

“The Order, tell me about the Order of the Phoenix.”

Ginny gasped and a feeling of dread filled her as he continued.

“If I don't know where their headquarter is when I walk out of this room, I'll just go to a certain place we both know and question the people that live there. I'm sure your family is in the Order anyway. Of course questioning wouldn't be the end of it…” he trailed off, his voice full of false sweetness.

He arched an eyebrow and slowly pulled the dagger out of his pocket, his wand already in the other hand.

“I'll never tell you, I would never betray them!” Ginny screamed, her panicked gaze fixed on the dagger.

“You will tell me. It's only a matter of time and suffering.”

A move of his wand and Ginny slammed into the wall, letting out a small cry of pain, her eyes shining with fear and the will that she wouldn't surrender.

It actually took him several days to find out everything she knew about the Order and he was surprised how determined she was to resist. But nobody would have stood a chance, let alone a young girl.

He looked at her crumpled form on the floor and thought of the lust and passion that they had felt before, kneeling down beside her.

It was a shame that she had got in the way, but he had to follow the Dark Lord's orders. The path he had chosen wasn't one that you abandoned if you wanted to live. The Dark Lord wasn't someone who cared what you really wanted deep, deep down.

Draco carefully touched her bruised cheek and caressed her hair. She rested her head in his lap and sobbed, defeated for now.

“You know, it would all be easier and less painful if you cooperated, Ginny.”

~~~************~~~

A couple of weeks later Draco stood in front of 12 Grimmauld Place, looking at a shabby house that he couldn't imagine any ancestor of his ever living in. This wasn't what he had expected the ancestral home of the House of Black to look like.

Something wasn't right here, he thought, as the oddity of that notion occurred to him. He shouldn't be able to see it in the first place, the girl had told him about the Fidelius charm. She wasn't the secret keeper though, so the visibility of it could only mean one thing: the charm had been lifted.

The house was clearly visible under the full moon and it seemed even more derelict in the silvery light.

Draco's feeling of uneasiness increased and he felt the hair on his neck tingle. He pulled his invisibility cloak tighter around him and looked around tentatively, but saw no one. The feeling that he was being watched didn't cease though as he stepped up to the front door slowly, stepping over litter that filled the front yard.

The whole place appeared dark and empty, forsaken, the door hanging broken inside its frame. The house seemed abandoned, the Order had probably given up on it, maybe even because of the girl's disappearance.

This could be a trap, Draco thought, becoming increasingly worried, cursing himself for not bringing someone like Bellatrix along.

The street was quiet, but he hesitated to go into the house. They wouldn't be stupid enough to leave anything of value, but then again, they might have been in a rush. The Dark Lord would interpret it as cowardice or, even worse, as disobedience if he didn't check the house closer, after all he wasn't known for his empathy.

Either way Draco might lose, but with the Dark Lord he certainly would.

Draco carefully moved one of the door pieces and, after one last look around, crossed the threshold, a weird feeling at the back of his mind.

The darkness was impenetrable and he attempted to move the door pieces back together, trying hard to avoid the screechy sound as the rusty door angles moved, before he softly whispered “Lumos.”

Shielding the light with his body, he looked around the hallway, taking in the peeling wallpaper and the broken remains of furniture, covered by dust. Some trashed wooden furniture, that was all.

He took a few steps towards the stairs, dust flying up and tingling in his nose, making him sneeze lightly. His wand only gave some light, leaving most of the room in shadow.

There.

He stopped dead in his track.

A rustling sound.

Maybe the house wasn't as empty as it had looked from the outside. He listened really hard but couldn't hear anything now, maybe it had just been his imagination. Hopefully.

He looked around himself incessantly, clutching his wand tighter.

Who knew what was in this house?

A cracking sound behind him caused him to spin around instantly, pointing his wand at the source of danger. The two halves of the door had been rattling, moved by the wind, pushing against each other.

He backed away from the door until he suddenly bumped into something hard, with some effort restraining himself from spinning on his heel.

The stairway. He had backed up until he hit the stairway.

He cursed himself for being so jumpy, when he was usually such a cool and controlled person. But somehow his fear of something jumping out of the shadows and attacking him only gripped his heart stronger as he carefully stepped up the stairs, trying to make no noise; desperate to avoid anything that might draw attention to him.

His hand was trembling when he wiped cold sweat of his forehead, feeling the damp strands of hair on his temple. He had to get a grip, this irrational fear was ridiculous, he'd never get anywhere like this.

He reached the upper floors, but found nothing there either. Everything was deathly silent, and he thought that anybody had to be able to hear his heartbeat in the silence.

He stood at the upper end of the stairs when he first heard the sound. A howling, many voices joined together in one painful scream that grew louder each second.

Draco looked around frantically searching the darkness but the light of his wand didn't seem to penetrate the blackness that grew thicker every moment and he clutched his wand painfully. He stood frozen, even trying to hold his breath, not daring to move. Maybe if he was really still, they wouldn't find him, they wouldn't come to get him.

Then he heard the voice over the howling that had grown so loud that it pained his ears, sending shivers down his spine.

“We know you are there…” it said, barely a whisper among the ear-splitting howling, but so much more terrifying than all the cries from the tortured souls.

“You belong with us, in the darkness, where the pain is blinding and the blood is boiling, forever and ever…”

A strangled cry escaped Draco's throat and brought him back to the present, back to action. He blindly stumbled down the stairs, in a haste to get out of this hellhole as fast as possible. Panic washed away all coherent thought as he turned to flee from the darkness and the voices that had come to claim him.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and stumbled over something in the darkness, tumbling to the ground and cutting his hands on a sharp hard object, blood running down from the cuts. He tried to get up and run, but felt something at his leg, holding him down.

He struggled desperately, kicking back viciously, hitting something hard. It didn't falter though, didn't let go of his leg, trapping him on the ground.

They were coming for him, coming to draw him into their hell, sucking his soul from his body, to leave him imprisoned for all eternity.

Then he abruptly realized that the noise was gone, replaced by something else.

Voices. He heard voices, people speaking. And suddenly the fear was gone; leaving him on the floor of 12 Grimmauld Place in a darkness that didn't seem impenetrable any longer. His heart was beating like it was going to jump out of his chest at any minute and his breathing was flat and rushed but he was unharmed.

Then he saw the sources of the talking through the door pieces, outside in the moonlight. They were aurors and he sucked his breath in sharply at the realization.

He wasn't going mad, at least not as much as him hearing voices might suggest. They must have placed some sort of fear spell on this place, he thought with a sense of relief. Or maybe they just had a dementor nearby; ready to take care of anybody they caught in their trap.

All relief left him; he knew what kind of position he had put himself into.

Draco felt something sharp against his left leg; he had simply caught his foot on some piece of furniture in his rush to leave the house. He removed it carefully, cursing inwardly as he felt a jab of pain shooting through his leg. Not being able to walk would be a death sentence in this situation.

“There must be somebody inside the house, the wards went off, we didn't see anybody though.” Whispered a voice outside. “I hope it's one of those bastards, it's about time we got a hold of one of them.”

“Remember - don't kill him. For now we need a prisoner.”

Draco drew his invisibility cloak around him and made a move to apparate.

Nothing happened.

He couldn't apparate out of the house; panic gripped him again, as he stepped back to the wall behind him.

He was invisible, but he felt more and more like a deer caught in the headlights. He stared at the broken door and what he saw only increased that feeling.

Several aurors were closing in on the house accompanied by Dumbledore and some others that Draco didn't recognize in the darkness. Probably members of his Order, he thought, shuddering at the thought.

It would all be over if they caught him, he would go to Azkaban or worse, if they found out he was in on the Diggory attack he might well receive the Dementor's kiss…

They all had him written out as the bad guy who surely didn't deserve anything else anyway and nothing he could say to them would ever change that. Especially now, after all that had happened.

A sense of dread rose in him, as he realized what that meant. He would have to fight it out or die, there was no way he could ever allow himself to be arrested by them, let alone be caught red-handed. And there was quite a chance he might not make it out of here alive.

Scared but determined, he moved into a dark corner beside the stairway, from which he would have a pretty good chance to make it to the door. If he could just get out of the house, he would be able to apparate to safety.

His hand shook as he raised his wand, grabbing a piece of wood with his other hand. What had just been a few seconds, seemed like an eternity until they were finally at the door.

The first aurors entered the house silently, their wands drawn, their faces grim and eager. Eager to curse some Death Eater into oblivion, he thought. More precisely, to curse him into oblivion.

Most of the men had moved into the house by then, spreading out. Draco tried to breathe as shallow as possible, afraid even the slightest sound would betray where he was. One of the men started to move towards him and Draco knew he couldn't wait until they were all inside. It was now or never.

He flung the piece of wood upwards and threw it back, high above his head. It clattered onto the first floor with a loud banging noise. The men gave a start and whipped around, moving in towards the stairs, as Draco threw himself towards the door, his wand raised, releasing its energy in a mighty green flash as he shouted

“Avada Kedavra.”

Then there was shouting and screaming all around, hexes hurling around the room, a body hitting the floor with a loud thump.

The few metres to the door seemed like an eternity, Draco's injured leg hurting with every step, every jump over the litter on the ground.

He hit the door hard, the sheer force of his moving body knocking apart the pieces, one crashing to the ground with a bang, metal hitting his injured leg which gave away and caused him to stumble forward uncontrollably.

Behind him a high voice screamed something and suddenly there was a stinging pain in his back, causing him to scream out loud, as the smell of burning flesh filled his nose. The pain was unbelievably, his back had to be burning up, something ripping the skin of him, and tearing deeper with every second the spell lasted.

He apparated away, as his consciousness slowly faded away, pouring his last strength into that one most important spell.

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After The Frost

1. Prologue

2. Alone & Helpless

3. Teacher

4. Victories & Losses

5. Rise Of A Red Sun

6. A New Morning

7. To Follow An Order