She had been assigned to watch Draco Malfoy for any "suspicious activities." He was a Death Eater. But there was no evidence to accuse him of. That's what she was there for. And she would get him. This would be her revenge.

He had betrayed her.

He had said he loved her.

The first time they slept together he whispered the words, after she had feigned sleep in his arms, unaware she was awake and could hear him.

He had lied to her.

She wondered if he told every woman that.

In the coffee shop she sat near one of the windows, pretending to read the newspaper, but in truth, was watching for him. An "associate" of his owned a shop next door, specialized in selling illegal items on the Black Market. It was a decrepit old building shoppers passed by quickly without a glance inside the window, with shelves of skulls on display. She would enter the store through a back door and hide in one of the empty boxes from a new shipment--of what, she didn't know, but when she had searched back there for a hiding spot she had heard low, throaty growls come from inside a box after tripping over it. The shop owner had been upstairs, sleeping, and hadn't heard the noise.

She had been told meetings, unofficial Death Eater ones, often were held under the building. Meetings that he went to.

They were planning something which the Order didn't know of.

But she would find out.

And then, she would kill him.

This would be her revenge.


A flash of silver, almost white in the sun, caught her eye, causing her to blink several times. She almost forgot how dazed she was whenever she saw him. He always had that effect on her. Her hands would get clammy, her heartbeat would race, and her breathing would get shallow. He was unnerving.

The first time they had been alone, with no one else in the room, together, was at school when Ginny had taken an advanced class he was also in. It was a seventh year class, Arithmancy, without Ron and Harry and Hermione for different reasons.

She remembers he was brilliant, Head Boy, at the top of the class. He had beaten Hermione, Hermione, as the top student.

It wasn't that she wasn't intelligent, but she had had difficulties at times with the numbers, they became a different language she found herself unable to translate. He had started out as a tutor, but then, they met not to study, but to spend time together. It was usually at night when they couldn't be seen, couldn't be heard, couldn't be watched by anyone. They became friends.

It was when they were both out of Hogwarts they became lovers. Ginny became the other woman. Pansy was betrothed to Draco since birth out of necessity, her family was nearly bankrupt from her father's gambling and drinking and spending, hence, she had been sold to the highest bidder, to anyone who would take her. Pansy hadn't cared, she was a lesbian, preferring instead to marry Draco and remain friends, both able to see whoever they wanted. They had grown up together and he was like an older brother; it would've been like incest, Pansy had said.

She remembers he had entranced her even though she had averted her eyes from his, had stared at his long, tapered fingers holding the quill, pointing at the different numbers and writing down formulas, explaining the steps in a soft drawl. Her face always felt hot and she would blush even more, turning redder if it was possible, when she asked him questions. She could feel his eyes on her, analyzing her face, and she was certain he was thinking, "how ugly, how poor, how stupid she is." But he had thought how beautiful she looked.

Her golden-red hair fell in waves framing her pale face, clear of freckles and blemishes, and held full lips she unconsciously sucked on when nervous, driving him mad. He loved the blush that crept up her face when he looked at her and how she would sneak peeks at him from under her thick black eyelashes that framed her light brown eyes. He thought she was afraid to look at him. She was actually too nervous to look at him. He remedied that though. He gently tilted her chin with two of his fingers and her eyes looked up at him, head on, startling him. She didn't blink or breathe. She had stared at him, at the long strands of silvery blond hair he tucked behind his ears where a few refused to stay and hugged the sides of his face; at the flecks of silver in his gray eyes staring at her so intently, it was making her blush even more at the reason for his stare, but his gaze was locked with hers and refused to let go.

But she had to let go of the memory and focus on the same man again, years later, where her family is dead, killed by the same man who had told her he loved her.


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.