Title: Assassin In The Shadows
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. 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. There is Order of the Phoenix Spoilers.
Dedication: To Terra, for giving me the idea for the title without even knowing it. To Erin, because she helped me see that it was actually a good idea without even knowing it.
Summary: All Ginny Weasley remembers of a certain Death Eater that saved her life, are his startling silver gray eyes. She knows she knows them from somewhere but her head was hit so hard that night, that even the greatest memories she once cherished are forever clouded in mystery. Nevertheless, Ginny is determined to find that man, wherever he may be and thank him. Even if he is on the opposing side. Can she find him in a world of blood and death?
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Prologue: That Fateful Night
**
The world is a dangerous place, especially at night when the shadows overtake the land and seize all that foolishly fall into their mists. Yet under the sparkling stars and lambent moon, there were those that took that very risk every night to do what they believed to be right. Those people, whether openly celebrated or not, took it upon themselves to commit the ultimate sacrificial act and free an unjust work of a little suffering.
One such a person, a fiery red-haired young woman, stood outside a crowded pub in downtown London. Few people were out on the streets on this night, and those that were walked past this pub without a glance. There was something very unique about this building. This building held a sign with a brewing cauldron, and the words, The Leaky Cauldron.
The Leaky Cauldron had to be the most famous pub in the wizarding world. An easy passageway to Diagon Alley, an illustrious place with the best magical shops in England besides Hogsmeade, the pub was also very old and an icon of the ancient world of magic. It, although unknowingly to the Muggles, linked their world with a world they only dreamed of.
The pub was also good for something else: listening in on conversations that were not meant to be heard by outsiders. This was actually a normal occurrence in all the magical pubs in England. With Lord Voldemort's supporters taking the upper hand in the war, the Light side needed all the spies they could get. They were beginning to form a habit in hiring just about anyone. This was probably part of the reason the Dark side had the upper hand to begin with.
Drawing her cloak up around her, the woman outside the pub sighed uneasily and glanced down at the watch around her wrist. She was watching for someone who was now ten minutes late. Usually when the person your trailing is late it can only mean one thing: trouble. Preparing for the worst, the woman touched the wand in her pocket to make sure it was there.
"Well hello there, Ms. Weasley,"
Spinning around, the woman's eyes widened in surprise. She wasn't usually so easy to sneak up on and the very thought this man had been able to chilled her to the bone. She was becoming careless and such actions would get her killed. Wiping the look of surprise off her face, the woman adjusted the hood that was on top of her head as if bored.
"Your late," She told him dryly, "I don't like it when those I am meeting are late."
The man looked as if he was in his early thirties, with a rusty color mane of hair that went down to his lower neck, and two beady black eyes. He wasn't very strong, rather thin and lanky. In any case, Ms. Weasley did not find him intimidating. His patched up robes suggested he was very low on money. Noting this, she fixed him with a fierce stare.
"Something came up," He replied gruffly.
"I've heard that before. Where is the money you promised me?" She had bit of impatience to her voice, and it probably reminded him of the Death Eaters he usually worked for because he paused before reaching in one of his pockets and pulling out a small pouch of coins.
"Here you milady," He said gently dropping it into her hand. She caught the sarcasm in his voice, and opened the pouch to check inside. Finding the right amount of coins, she replaced the money for the wand in her pocket.
"You've done very well for yourself," She told him with a slight smirk as she raised her wand so it was level with his collarbone.
"E.. Excuse me?" Fear flashed across his face and be backed up unconsciously. Ms. Weasley's smirk became more pronounced. "Ms. Weasley... I don't understand... I gave you all the money for that book..."
"Exactly," she said gravely, "and handed it over to the Death Eaters... didn't you?"
Suddenly a look of utmost delight splashed across his face. Taken aback, the woman attempted to fix him with a more threatening glare, but he didn't seem to care the slightest. It unnerved her and she forced herself to continue on with the arrest.
"And... You're under arrest for supplying Lord Voldemort with weapons that he will undoubtedly use against the Light side and all those who are innocent."
He just stood there with that very delighted look on his face as if he couldn't hear or see her. She followed his eyes as carefully as she could and realized they were staring at something behind her. With a steadying breath, she turned her head to the side to see if anyone was behind her.
The man in front of her reacted quickly in the woman's move to check her surroundings. He grabbed her wand hand and forced the wand to fall to the ground with a clatter. Surprised and very shaken at his movements, the man was able to knock her to the ground with one blow. Bending down next to her, he fished his hand in her pocket for the money.
She struggled to get him off him, and was able to knock him aside. Scrambling to her feet, her eyes darted across the sidewalk for her wand. As she bent down to retrieve it, the man came up from behind her and struck her in the back of the head. The woman collapsed onto the edge of the sidewalk with a cry of pain, and the man kicked her sharply in the side before again going to grab his money.
With it now secure in his own pocket, he picked her wand up off the ground. His eyes sparkling with insane glee and his lips curled into an evil smile he pointed it at her. The woman's head was pounding, her sick aching. Even if she hadn't felt the end descend upon her she wouldn't have been able to defend herself.
"I should have known you were part of the Light side," The man said, laughter ringing in his voice, "A Weasley is always too good for their own well being."
With what little strength she had she muttered, "Go to Hell you fucking-" another sharp kick to the side cut her off. She drew in her breath, and coughed finding something in her mouth that wasn't salvia.... It was blood.
"You're in no position to talk me that way. In fact, you should be begging me for your mercy."
"I'd rather die," She snapped weakly.
"It seems that's the way it will be going," He agreed, "imagine that, killed by your own wand." His insane smile glittering above her, Ms. Weasley could not bare to watch him murder her. She closed her eyes, preparing for the icy wind of death.
Instead she heard a thud, and an icy voice that seemed vaguely familiar speak into the night. "Imagine that, attacked by your own side." She forced her eyes to reopen, but saw nothing around her, only the man laying on the sidewalk near by her, blood oozing from the back of his head.
She attempted to sit up but was overcome by a fit of coughs that just brought more blood to her mouth. From behind her she felt someone gently pick her up. All she knew of the figure was he was draped in a billowing black cloak and hood that gave him a startlingly mysterious appearance.
"Hang on," He said swiftly, "You'll be all right."
Her head collapsed back against his arm, the drowsiness and weakness of her attack finally overtaking her. The last thing she remembered of that night was a pair of sparkling silver eyes looking down at her and assuring her she would be perfectly fine. Those eyes were the one thing about that night that Ginny Weasley never forgot.
Not even two years later.