Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, friends, enemies, or even mythical creatures. I just enjoy playing with them.
Chapter One: Brave New World
Draco listened to his father. It was something he'd always been taught to do and it was drilled into him so deeply that he would probably have done had he been unconscious.
But then, unconscious didn't seem like such a bad idea right now. He'd returned – triumphant – from a field mission with the others and he felt like he was going to drop dead from exhaustion any moment. Every muscle in his body was throbbing with overuse and under-rest and he just couldn't keep his concentration completely on what his father was saying.
"Crucio." Oh, but he heard that loud and clear.
The pain flooded his system, causing his already agony filled lungs to expel a groan. He was going to die, right now, he knew it. This was it, the end, and Draco wasn't under any false pretences, he knew there'd be no shining light, no fluffy clouds for him, nope, he was going straight to the fieriest fiery pit in hell. Was fieriest even a word?
Suddenly, the pain just stopped, as abruptly as it had started. Then Lucius' voice drifted through his hazy mind.
"Stop fantasizing, you're far from death's door Son, but you'll be a lot closer if you don't start listening to what I'm saying to you." He sounded peeved.
Draco forced one eye open, surprised to find himself lying on the cold stone floor. "Sorry, Father," he rasped breathily.
"Forgiven," his father snapped, sounding singularly unforgiving. "I will talk to you later when you are more focused."
Draco listened to his father's sharp receding footsteps and then thankfully let the darkness claim him, leaving his fate to the house elves that were already lifting him off the castle stone.
"He will be with us shortly, my Lord," Lucius said from his kneeling position on the floor.
"I do not like to wait," Voldemort snapped.
There was a commotion at the door, just as Lucius was about to prostrate himself further. Draco breezed in, looking as dishevelled as a Malfoy ever can, which wasn't much Lucius was proud to note.
"I am sorry my Lord," Draco said clearly, sinking liquidly into the kneeling position alongside his father.
"I do not tolerate lateness," the Dark Lord replied coldly, his voice sending a shiver through both Malfoys.
"I am your servant," Draco intoned, keeping his mind purposefully blank. "Do with me what you may. Your bidding is my life."
The younger man could feel Voldemort's slanted eyes burning into him as he spoke the loyalty vow. "Do not let it happen again," he finally snapped. Next to him, Draco could feel the breath whoosh out of his father in relief. "Besides," the Dark Lord continued, "I have found a task for you that will not only prove your loyalty but also – should you be successful – will make you eligible as a member of the inner circle Deatheaters."
Finally, Draco thought. "Please enlighten me as to what I must do my Lord," he replied.
"Do not prompt me," Voldemort exclaimed. Draco sank lower into his bow. "I should torture you for that–" one of the cloaked and hooded figured at the edge of the stone dungeon started forwards but Voldemort held up his hand to stop him, "but it would only waste my time. So I will cut to the chase, so to speak. There is a stronghold of the Order of the Phoenix on the borders of no-man's land; it is their first line of defence. Although it was mainly for the battle injured to begin with, we have information telling that Harry Potter and the other strategists for their side of the war are to meet there to discuss their tactics. We need someone on the inside."
Draco nodded slowly. He was being sent in as a spy? That was such an amateurish job, he couldn't even get any violence in. He'd rather dig his own grave than be made to spend time 'spying' on boring goody-goodies.
"Do not misunderstand me," the Dark Lord resumed. "It will not be easy, or safe. Your disguise will be that of a Dr Sebastian Harvey who – it is needless to say – you will have to capture first in order to concoct the polyjuice potion from."
"Like Mr Crouch did at the triwizard?" Lucius specified, speaking for the first time since Draco had entered.
"Yes," agreed Voldemort. "But you will not get caught, need I say anymore?"
"Only when I shall be leaving and where I shall intercept Dr Harvey on his way to the stronghold?" asked Draco.
"You will leave tomorrow before first light and catch the good doctor as he crosses the river Avon. You will have to spend the rest of this evening brewing the polyjuice so that you can change into Harvey straight away."
"Yes my Lord," Draco bowed lowly to the floor.
"You have another question Lucius? Make it the final one, my patience is being tested."
"Sorry my Lord. How long will Draco be posted at the Order of the Phoenix stronghold?" Lucius didn't dare raise his eyes to make direct contact with the Dark Lord, he could feel the irritation rolling off of him in waves.
"As long as it takes!" Voldemort spat. "Now be gone, before I kill you both."
The two Malfoys quickly bowed their way out of the dark dungeon.
Ginny whooped as she went back under tree level. She loved this feeling; it was irreplaceable, incomparable to any other feeling. It was like Christmas but without the anti-climax, like a birthday without getting older, like falling in love without heartbreak, it was all of these things and so much more.
The broom barely protested beneath her practised hands as she whizzed through the forest at breakneck speed, weaving through the trees as though it was a slalom race. Leaves grazed her face gently, but Ginny barely noticed, so focused was she on the task at hand.
Up here there were no worries, no fear. She could fly all day and then some more, just to feel as free as she did on the broomstick.
Abruptly, the trees cleared and she was in the open again. Her companion flew down to join her.
"I thought I had lost you!" he exclaimed, blonde hair sticking out at random directions. "Must you always fly through the forest; it's not particularly safe y'know?"
"Oh Seb," she breathed, he never understood. "It's a great feeling!" With a careless grin she jumped cleanly off her broom and fell the remaining three feet to the ground, landing deftly on her feet.
"I just wish you wouldn't do it. It worries me," he mumbled, dismounting in a somewhat more conservative manner.
"Don't worry about me," she said, smiling impishly. "I practically bounce when dropped."
"Let's not put that to the test, eh?"
She rolled her dark eyes. "So what do we do this afternoon, hmmm doctor?"
Her newfound friend and present fling looked at her thoughtfully out of dark blue eyes. "Picnic sound good to you?"
"It'll do," she smiled, flicking scarlet hair away from her face. He impulsively leaned in to kiss her, but she sidestepped, pretending not to notice and instead linking arms with him. He looked slightly nonplussed, but allowed her to march him across the field towards the ramshackle building in the distance; the Burrow.
