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Lune Soleil by Slytherish
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Lune Soleil

Slytherish

Title: Luna Soleil

Author: Samantha Riddle aka Slytherish

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Oh, and it has some Order of the Phoenix Spoilers.

Summary: Ginny Weasley is captured by Death Eaters after an attack on the Ministry. What does Lord Voldemort want from her, and what does it have to do with that cold night in her first year at Hogwarts School? What happens when Ginny falls in love, and can't decide between her family and the one she loves so dearly?

Notes: A special thank you to my beta-reader, Samantha for reading and editing this story.

**

Chapter Two: And the Moon Returns

The dark castle that housed Lord Voldemort and his followers, was carefully hidden in a forest behind a Muggle city. There were so many Dark Magic spells on it, that not even the most skilled Auror would be able to find it, unless of course that auror was extremely gifted in the Dark Arts.

Which was why Severus Snape was one of the very few Auror's who could find it. He wasn't a known Auror, nor a known Death Eater, but a spy for the Light side. He had been called upon in the dead of night, just hours before, when Dumbledore told him the youngest Weasley had been kidnaped.

Snape's mission was to find out if the little Weasley was alive or not, and why Voldemort had sent his Death Eaters to kidnap her. This wasn't a job Snape was proud of, but he did what he asked, whether he believe it important or not.

In a dark cloak he swept through the hallways of the castle, moving almost at a glide and so silently that if one wasn't paying strict attention they would not hear or see him pass. He was entering the Lestrange chamber in no time at all, the door clicking shut.

"Well, what do we have here?" A women's cool voice said into the silence of the room. Snape's lip curled, his eyes flashing dangerously. The women laughed darkly.

"Evening Bellatrix," Snape said coldly as the women stood from her chair by the fire, one thin hand pulling her matted locks out of her eyes. She looked Snape up and down as though searching through him. He quickly looked away, those dark eyes were hollow and sent chills up his spine. He didn't have to wonder if she was evil.

"What brings you here Severus?" Bellatrix asked quietly, almost as if attempting to make a pleasant conversation. Snape paused. He knew very well that Bellatrix was one of Voldemort's favorites, and she would do anything for him. If he wasn't careful he could loose the Dark Lord's trust and even his life.

"Questions," Snape said dryly. Bellatrix sneered.

"Questions are dangerous things Severus," She told him, "Better to watch what you ask." She moved away from Snape, towards the window. As her dark purple cloak whipped around her, Snape caught sight of a very plain, pale and dirty dress underneath.

The Bellatrix Lestrange that Snape remembered never wore plain, dirty things. Bella had not been very elegant and stuck up- not like her dear sister Narcissa. Bella had been more laid back, and it seemed that Azkaban had really unhinged her.

"Spoken to Narcissa lately?" Snape asked softly. He didn't think she'd answer, but watched her back carefully. "Lucius being captured hit the family hard I hear. It sent young Draco straight into joining us. He went with us to attack the Ministry last night. Or did he?"

"What's it to you?" Bellatrix snapped, turning back around and walking to the chestnut desk in the corner. She pulled open the drawer, searching for something.

"Its nothing to me. I was just curious who got the job of capturing that Weasley," Snape continued coldly, making sure his voice held no emotion. Instead it held unconcern and indifference.

"He didn't kidnap the girl," Bellatrix responded swiftly, "If that is what your asking." She looked up from the drawer, cigarette in her hand. Her eyes glared at him, as if he intruded upon her own personal business. As she drew her wand from her pocket and tapped the cigarette, she grimaced. "Rabastan did that,"

"Did they kill her? Such a child isn't a bother of ours," Snape pressed. Bellatrix snorted, letting out a puff of dark grey smoke.

"Child? She's a baby! But the Dark Lord gets what the Dark Lord wishes. He always knows Snape...always," She looked up at the ceiling as if looking up at Voldemort fondly. Snape almost sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere with Bellatrix.

"Where is Rabastan?" Snape asked, wondering if he would be any more help then his sister-in-law.

"What do you care?" Bellatrix asked, fixing him with a stare. "What's with all your damn questions? Go bother someone else." She waved her hand at him in a shooing motion.

Snape looked around the room quickly, as if looking for help of some kind. He knew she had all the answers, if only he could get them from her. He spotted a bottle of brandy sitting by her chair. An idea formed in his brain, and in a matter of seconds he had crossed the room to pick it up.

"Drinking again Bellatrix?" He asked, with a smirk. He didn't let her reply before he spoke again, distracting her from the bottle itself. "Its not good for you, you know." Her eyes on Snape's face, she didn't see him switch the bottle for another that was in his pocket.

"Give me that!" She growled, moving towards him and snatching the bottle away. She ripped open the top, and took a sip. This was exactly what Severus was hoping for.

"So Bellatrix, why does Lord Voldemort want Ginny Weasley?" Snape asked. Bellatrix looked at him oddly, and then grunted.

"He's controlled her before, and saw how powerful she was. The girl is special, and he knows that. He didn't tell me what he was going to use her for exactly, but I know that much." Bellatrix replied, taking another sip of her brandy.

"So she's alive?" Snape continued.

"Yes," Bellatrix affirmed, with a nod. Snape reached forward and grabbed the bottle back.

"You shouldn't drink Bellatrix," He told her loudly, switching the bottles again. She snatched it back only seconds later.

"Don't tell me what to do," She snorted. Snape smirked again.

"How much of that can you drink at once I wonder?" He questioned. "Not too much I'm sure," Bellatrix took that as a challenge, which Snape knew would happen.

"Ha!" She took off the top, and drank all the contents inside. "Shows you how much you know...."

Snape didn't stick around for much longer. He had switched the bottles, having her drink Veritaserum the first time, and the second time around had her drink an entire bottle of brandy. She would be out in no time and would easily forget their meeting.

Yet as Snape started to head back to 12 Grimmauld Place, he worried that his plan might not work, and Bellatrix would tell Voldemort about his questions. That was the risk he took every day with every piece of information he gained. If he could save Ginny Weasley from certain death with his risks, it would all be well worth it.

**

Miles away, Draco Malfoy was just returning home to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. Exhausted, irritated and disgusted, he pulled off his Death Eater cloak, as he started up the elegant stairs to his bedroom. The house was silent, the only sounds were of Draco's feet against the marble floors.

One the second floor, Draco paused halfway. He gently pulled open his mother's bedroom door and looked inside. Asleep in her enormous four-poster bed was Narcissa Malfoy. Draco watched the steady rising and falling of her chest, content that she at least would have a good night's sleep. He shut the door quietly, and continued up another flight of stairs, to his own room.

His room was dark but for the little light given by the moon. Draco fumbled to turn the light on, shutting the door as he did so. He threw his Death Eater cloak on the back of the chair at his desk, and started towards his bathroom.

As he pulled his shirt over his head, the cloth rubbed his upper arm and shot a tingling pain though-out Draco's whole body. He shivered, looking at himself in the mirror, his fingers running up and down the hideous Dark Mark that caused his pain.

That mark had not been on his arm the morning before when he last looked at himself in the mirror. Draco had received it hours ago before the Dark Lord had sent him and many other Death Eaters to attack the Ministry building that held their captured Death Eaters, and set them free.

It had been pain Draco was not experienced with: a blind, white hot, cruciatus curse type of pain. He remembered how it had been plastered to his skin, magically binding him to Lord Voldemort until Draco's dying day- or Voldemort's...whichever came first. Draco hadn't wanted to join the Death Eaters, not yet anyway. He didn't have much of a choice anymore, it was the only way he could help his mother.

Narcissa loved Lucius more then Draco could believe, and when he was captured by the Order it smashed her heart into pieces. She had worried how they were treating him, how he was being fed, if he was horribly lonesome for her, and anything else she could come up with. Yet there was no way Lucius and the other captured Death Eaters could escape without help. Voldemort needed more Death Eaters so they could attack the Ministry, and Narcissa had told her son that, with big watery eyes that Draco couldn't say no to. He loved his mother, and that was the only reason he had done what he had.

Draco turned the water on in the sink and collected as much water in his hands as he could, splashing his face with it. The water dripped down his chin and onto his bare chest. He would shower when he woke up later, he was just too tired to do anything but wash up a bit.

After a little washing, Draco left the bathroom and turned off his bedroom light. Collapsing onto his bed, Draco thought about everything he had seen and done that night. It was all good enough to eat away at him for days in his dreams. The murdering of those guards...one of which Draco had killed. He had killed someone for the first time ever. He almost wished his father was home so he could tell him. He knew Lucius would be proud even if just for a few seconds before he pushed Draco aside and went to Narcissa.

But at least his mother would be happy.

Wasn't that all that matter to him? Since when did he care what Lucius thought or said? It had always been about his mother. That's the way it would stay too. For all Draco cared, Lucius could go get himself killed. That was for all the help his father had been to him through all the years. Damn him.

Draco rolled over and closed his eyes. Tomorrow he would have to return to Voldemort's castle and see what the Dark Lord wanted him to do. Or at least that's what Lucius had told Draco to do in the few minutes they had seen of each other after the attack.

It wouldn't be too bad would it? No, Draco told himself firmly, he could deal with whatever Voldemort wanted him to do. He was strong, and he was a Malfoy. That was how he had made it so far. He had suffered through his father's beatings and lessons because he wasn't weak. If his father had succeeded in anything it was making Draco strong.

As he began to slip off, he could hear the door downstairs open and close. Lucius had returned. As if his mother had been awake the entire time, her door flew open. Draco sighed against his pillow. As long as his mother was happy....