This story is based in the Harry Potter universe, however no infringement upon J.K.Rowling (and the companies that manage her copyrighted material) is intended. No money is being made.

Please note that this story covers some dark situations, and Malfoy curses a bit. Please do not read this story if you are unsure about the suitability of this story for you.

Imprisonment

Bang! Draco Malfoy thrust the man against the wall, a fist bunched in his collar.

"Hello," he said pleasantly. "We meet at last. No time for chit-chat, I'm afraid. I need to know who you're working for." The man – utterly unremarkable except for a shiftiness around his eyes – clamped his lips shut and gave Malfoy a tiny smirk. Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I suppose we'll do this the… Oof!"

Something hit his back and he stumbled, loosening his grip. The man ripped himself free and shot off down the alley. Malfoy stared after him for a second, then rounded on his attacker.

A flash of orange hair made his stomach drop. Weasley. The girl. She had her wand pointed at him. The foot traffic of Diagon Alley passed behind her, uncaring at the scene. "Gods, Weasley. You let him get away."

"I stopped you terrorising some man, you mean." She threw her hair over her shoulder. Malfoy let out a sigh.

"I know, I know, I'm always the bad guy." He tilted his collar at her, revealing a small badge pinned there. Weasley's eyes widened.

"Oh, Merlin! An Unspeakable?" She lowered her wand. Malfoy grabbed it off her before she could raise her guard again. When she tried to snatch it back, he grabbed her arm in his own, pushed his wand point against her ribs.

"Let's walk this way a little, shall we?" Weasley was glaring at him. He tugged her along down the alleyway. "Yes, yes, an Unspeakable. Father pulled some strings, got me in."

"So why were you attacking that guy?"

Malfoy raised his eyes to the sky, muttered some oath or other. "It's called information gathering, Weasley. It's useful to have before barging into situations."

She had the decency to flush. "Where are you taking me?"

He shrugged and stopped. Diagon Alley could still be seen, but it was now some distance away. "Here will do. Now, tell me, did you notice anything about Bronsow?"

"Bronsow?"

"The guy," he clarified, rolling his eyes again. Merlin, did this girl really graduate?

"Oh." She paused, thinking. "Not really, he was rather plain. Brown hair, white skin. He was wearing leather shoes, but his robes were pretty patched. And he was radiating helplessness."

Malfoy gritted his teeth at his own stupidity. He should have grabbed the man's wand the second he found him. "I suppose I can't blame you too much, then," he muttered at her. When she frowned questioningly, he huffed. "He put a spell on you, Weasley. Now, get lost. I have to find the guy."

But Weasley had that look on her face, the one that said she wasn't about to get lost. "Why? What does he know?"

"Come on, Weasley, I can't tell you that. Bye, now." He turned and began walking down the small cobbled alley.

But, if he expected her to take his not-so-subtle hints, he was disappointed. He heard her footsteps behind him. "How did you get into the Unspeakables? I mean, I know your dad pulled strings, but they don't take anyone with a prior record and… I mean, you were never convicted of being a Death Eater, but…"

He rounded on her. "Shit, girl, I said get lost. I'm trying to work here. And believe me, that guy is anything but helpless," he sneered. "You don't want to get caught in the crossfire."

Weasley flushed again. "I just… I haven't seen anyone from school in a while, and I was wondering how you were going. I was curious," she declared defensively, hands finding purchase on her hips. Malfoy counted to five, looking again at the small strip of sky above his head.

"I have work to do, Weasley. Go find someone else to inflict your curiosity on."

And he turned a corner.

Once around the corner, he forgot about the girl. Every nerve in his body twanged. Before him was a shimmer in the air, the reek of brimstone and ozone. Malfoy looked around carefully. Definitely a trap. But, God, he had to get that information. Dropping to his knees, he picked up a pebble. Turning it over in his fingers, he shaped it into a snitch. He opened the snitch, breathed out a small vapour that he guided with his wand into the cup of the golden ball, closed it again. A tap caused it to stretch its wings.

"Off you go, back to base," he said as he let go of it and it darted away. Malfoy flared his nostrils. That shimmer was certainly a tear in the fabric of space, connected to somewhere else. And left open on purpose. Malfoy considered waiting for backup. Decided against it, it might close anytime. Base could track him through his badge, but finding the end-point of the vortex once it closed? Impossible.

Bracing himself for capture, torture and death, Malfoy stepped through the shimmer.

Weasley stepped fully around the corner. She frowned. Should she follow? Malfoy had wanted her to go back, but… he might be in trouble. With not much more thought, Weasley ran through the vortex.

She stumbled – the ground on the other side was a full foot lower. Pain flashed in her ankle, her knees. She looked up. Black hooded robes all around her. A blinding flash from a wand, the blankness of unconsciousness.