After The Frost by Chucky

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Suspense
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 26/08/2005
Last Updated: 16/10/2005
Status: In Progress

On the trio's graduation day Ginny Weasley disappears from Hogwarts. Will she survive in the
face of her worst nightmares and will Draco Malfoy be there to save her? Or are they all just pawns
in a greater game that will ultimately destroy them? R&R.




1. Prologue
-----------



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?

**After The Frost**

**Prologue**

A lone snowflake danced in the air, barely visible against the grey sky, finally coming down on
the now-icy surface of the small stream that divided the property which stretched out as far as the
eye could see.

The creek had long frozen over and its banks, where flowers had grown just the summer before,
were hardened by snow and ice.

The house that stood close to the creek was small and secluded, icicles dripping down from the
roof and the tiny window of its only room.

The room was freezing and white frost was forming on the windows. However, neither of the two
people in the room minded the cold.

A man was looking out of the window, his body and mind in a state of numbness, devoid of any
emotion, his face painfully expressionless.

He leant against the window, his skin touching the bitter cold glass sending a shot of pain
through his body. He didn't mind that either - pain was something he could grasp, the only
feeling hot enough to break through the ice.

It was cloudy outside, the sky was ashen and the land was dead. The long and hard winter kept it
in its icy grip, sucking the joy and life out of the earth.

A woman was sleeping on the old bed behind the man. Her skin was pale, and her breath left her
mouth in small white clouds. The man looked at her and for a brief moment, he felt a shudder deep
down in his soul, a memory of times when they had still cared, had still felt.

Old times, long gone. Before the frost.

-->



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.

-->



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.”

-->



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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