Timeline (reminder): This is an AU, in the sense that Draco Malfoy doesn't really have a brother in the books, nor is there a Professor Jacqueline Pierce at Hogwarts. In all other ways, it follows canon through "Goblet of Fire."

A/N: I had a USB drive issue which erased a bunch of half-finished updated chapters I'd been working on for months *sob*, which is why this update was so long in coming. I apologize and I'm back on the bandwagon. Updates should be reasonably back-to-back.

Disclaimer: Characters, canon plots, etc. are the property of J.K. Rowling. I am making no money from this work and intend it only for publication on, with no other intended distribution and absolutely no sales. Thanks, J.K., for giving amateur writers like myself a chance to frolic in a fabulous fictional world!

~Chapter 2~

I'll be watching you
Oh, can't you see
You belong to me?
How my poor heart aches
With every step you take
Every move you make

)SOMETIMES(

In Draco's case, home for the Christmas holidays meant spending most of his day in his room, doing schoolwork. He sometimes pretended he was back at Hogwarts, away from the Manor and his father. He'd never seriously considered transferring to Durmstrang, whatever he might said in a loud voice whenever Potter was nearby. Seven years at Hogwarts had made the school a home to Draco.

Most days, he could get away with seeing his parents only once or twice, for meals. This particularly evening was different, though Draco had forgotten until his father's house-elf appeared at his door with an order for Draco to appear in the ballroom immediately. Draco caught a look at himself in the mirror on his wardrobe – his hair stood on end from running his hand through it while he sorted out his Ancient Runes homework, his robes were rumpled from hours of hunching over his desk, and he hadn't shaved in three days. Damn.

"I'll be down as soon as I can," Draco snapped at the waiting elf. The elf, who had helped bring Draco up, knew signs of temper when he saw them and fled the room.

Stretching and sighing loudly, Draco headed for his wardrobe. When he had been younger, he had spent hours amusing himself by tormenting the twenty or so house-elves in his father's ownership. Now, though, Draco didn't have to spirit for it. It felt like wizard marbles without the blood. What was the use in ordering house-elves about when they enjoyed being slaves? He grinned suddenly at the thought of the look on Granger's face if he said that to her; something to look forward to when he got back to school.

He shoved his wardrobe open, good humor vanishing as he stared into it. A moment later, he saw the bedroom door burst open in the reflection of the wardrobe mirror.

"Darling, do hurry. We mustn't keep your father waiting." Narcissa frowned at him. "Draco, I know at that school you're allowed to dress like a commoner, but would it hurt you to brush your hair or shave occasionally while you're in my home?"

Narcissa swept into the wardrobe ahead of Draco and began to shift through his robes, her brow arched.

"You look lovely, Mother," Draco commented. She wore navy blue dress robes, her pale hair wound up in dark ribbons atop her head.

"Oh, we do need to get more dress robes fitted for you," she murmured, ignoring him as she stared into the abyss of robes. "You simply have no variety. We'll have Madam Malkin in after the holidays."

Draco stood back and watched her, knowing that reminding her he was there would only annoy her.

"These will do," she said at last, pulling out a set of black dress robes and pointing her wand at him. Suddenly, the dress robes were on and his hair was plastered to his head.

"Mother," he began grouchily.

"Hmm. Darling, is it just me or do you have a strangely shaped head?"

"Mother!"

"Never mind, it can't be helped," she went on, blithely ignoring him some more and waving her wand again. He reached out tentatively to feel whatever she'd done, but she swatted his hand away with her wand tip.

"Enough dawdling in your wardrobe, Draco, your father is waiting," she said, sweeping out of the room. Draco mouthed several silent obscenities and followed in her wake.

They stopped outside the ballroom to straighten their robes and hair in the entrance hall mirror. Narcissa nodded and the ballroom doors swung open, enchanted to recognize when one of their owners wished them to.

Draco caught sight of his brother right away. Aden stood with Lucius in the center of the room. To everyone else, he looked relaxed and easy, smiling graciously at mothers and daughters and laughing with Lucius's Ministry associates. Draco knew he was the only one seeing the tense line of Aden's shoulders, the compulsive fingering of his Malfoy crest ring, the occasional shift from foot to foot. As Draco had predicted, this party was meant to bring Aden a step further into the fold, closer to the powerful Inner Circle and the dark lord who controlled it.

"Ah, there you are, darling!" Lucius smiled at his wife and managed to avoid smiling at Draco. Bloody typical. "I despaired of seeing either of you."

"I'm so sorry," Narcissa said, her blinding white smile charming every guest within view of it. "A little matter with the servants, that's all. I saw to it."

No such excuse to be had for Draco, then.

"And I expect you were at your homework again, Draco?" Lucius surprised him by asking in tone that told only Draco's immediate family that Draco would meet a sticky end if he denied anything.

"Of course, sir," Draco said, perversely pleased it wasn't a lie.

"Staying top of your class again this year?" a man called Thicknesse asked. Draco vaguely remembered seeing him at a Ministry of Magic function a year or so back.

"Yes, sir," Draco said. "I hope to stay there."

"I'm afraid Draco's visit with us this evening will be brief," Lucius said with one of his slick smiles. "He'll be retiring early to continue his work."

"Yes, sir," Draco said, swallowing an exhalation of relief. The sooner he escaped, the better! He knew the looks of the mothers standing nearby and the looks of Lucius's associates. To them, the youngest Malfoy was a commodity, only as valuable as his father's connections, his top marks, and his money made him.

"I hope you won't be robbing us of the company of both your charming sons this evening, Lucius," Magnolia Greengrass said with a coy smile.

"Certainly not," Lucius said, clapping a hand on Aden's shoulder. Draco bit down very hard on his lip and excused himself to say hi to his friends from school.

"Have fun, dear," Draco simpered in an undertone to his brother in passing.

"I'll kill you later," Aden said through a smile that made his jaw tick.

Draco was especially pleased to be allowed an early escape when he discovered that Clarissa Nott and Daphne Greengrass were among the guests. It wasn't that there weren't decent girls in Slytherin, although those two hardly qualified. It was that the clever, interesting girls made themselves invisible these days. Pansy Parkinson hadn't attended a political party with her parents in at least a year. Draco wasn't surprised to hear that his father's function tonight was no different. Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson told Draco, in response to his polite inquiry, that that their daughter had developed a bad case of pneumonia the evening before and sent her regrets to all her friends. Draco bit back a snort and sent wishes for her speedy recovery home with Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson. He pictured Pansy in her Marvin the Mad Muggle pajamas, eating her weight in chocolate and toasting her pigmy puff slippers by the fire.

He said a quick hello to Blaise Zabini and Teddy Nott, both of whom were furious that Draco was set free so quickly.

"And your brother?" Blaise asked in an undertone.

"You know this party is for him," Draco muttered, glancing across the room. "You know what's expected of him."

"He won't do it, though."

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Draco's best mates, slid into the circle. It was Greg who'd spoken.

"No, probably not," Draco agreed grimly. "Would you?"

"Watch anyone try and force Greg," Vince retorted, nudging his friend. Draco grinned, although he felt an ache in his gut. His four mates, all in seventh year with him, were eldest children. Were any of their fathers important enough that they might have sons forced to join the Inner Circle? There was no way to know.

"Couldn't Professor Snape do something?" Blaise said, his voice pitched low. "I mean, we know he's got some in with the Dark Lord. Couldn't he take Aden as a protégé or something?"

"Aden didn't go to Hogwarts, did he?" Draco pointed out. Not that he hadn't thought seriously about going to Snape for help. "Professor Snape hardly knows Aden, except through my father."

"So that's it, then?" Teddy asked, toying with his sleeve. "I mean, can you refuse the You-Know-What?" He rubbed his left forearm, chewing his lip.

What really scared Draco was that Aden would refuse the Mark, whether or not it was allowed. And he would be killed.

Draco glanced around at his friends. They weren't thinking only of Draco's brother; Draco knew that. "You know that when I find anything out, I'll tell you," he murmured. "Look, I have to go. I'll be in touch."

They nodded and watched him go. Draco could feel their eyes on his back, and their fear. He shared it, but not for himself.

Draco bid his family a hasty farewell and slipped up the winding marble staircase to his room. Once there, he changed hastily into more comfortable clothes, checked for lurking house-elves (after all, he was supposed to be doing homework), and left his room.

Aden told Draco everything he knew about the Inner Circle and whatever he could find out about the Dark Lord's activities or expectations. Anything Draco thought was useful, he passed around to his friends as best he could. All four of his year-mates were in danger and some of them had fifth and sixth year cousins who were in danger, too.

The only other way Draco could learn anything that might help his brother or friends was eavesdropping. As a result, he'd become a pro.

He descended the long staircase beyond the east wing library and then circled back around and passed back under the library. He paused before a stretch of bare wall. Glancing both ways to make sure no one was coming, he tapped the wall with his wand and whispered, "Revelio!"

The wall in front of him rippled and a tiny seam appeared. Draco pulled the seam apart and stepped into one of the Manor's many concealed broom cupboards. Draco grinned as he shut himself in. What would Lucius and Narcissa say if they knew their son knew about the cupboards and used them himself? It was a moot point, really, because if they ever found out they would kill him, stuff him, and display him in a glass case in the study as a warning to others.

"Emaciato," Draco mumbled, tapping the back wall of the cupboard. Suddenly, he could hear through the wall as though it were paper-thin. The noise of the party in the ballroom just behind the cupboard drifted through; first, just a murmur of indistinct voices; then, a resolution into two.

"I wouldn't concern yourself, dear," Magnolia Greengrass was saying. Draco never had any trouble recognizing her voice. "The man's a joke. He's more bluster than anything. Not even Cornelius Fudge was such a blind fool." If there was a woman in the world whom Draco disliked more than Daphne Greengrass, it was her overweight, overbearing mother. Still, more than any wife of any politician Draco had ever met, Mrs. Greengrass kept up with Ministry and Death Eater gossip.

"Oh, certainly, but one must take into account the recent uprising of Mudbloods against the Dark Lord," Geraldine Avery replied. Draco could hear her thin, long nose sticking straight into the air. "Rufus Scrimgeour supports their kind, you know, and actually gave that Mudblood lover a raise."

After several minutes of gossip about Rufus Scrimgeour, Fudge's successor as Minister for Magic, Draco began to wonder if he should find a new closet. He needed information that he could use. He was raising his wand to restore the wall when Mrs. Avery's voice caught his ear.

"I suppose you've heard about their plan to blackmail him?"

Draco turned back.

"Blackmail Arthur Weasley? I did hear a mention … do tell!" Mrs. Greengrass said.

"Well, it's a simple matter of playing to his kinds' weakness, isn't it?" Mrs. Avery said. "We all know that attacking his family is the easiest way to get to him."

Draco frowned. The Weasleys were considered blood traitors by many, but short of Draco's father's complaints about the Malfoy estate coming under increasing suspicion because of Arthur Weasley's involvement in certain areas of the Ministry, the family name didn't often come up among Lucius's associates. The man simply wasn't important enough within the Ministry to be worth targeting.

"Why the Weasleys?" Mrs. Greengrass asked Draco's question for him.

"Apparently, Arthur Weasley was recently promoted to head of the Office of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects," Mrs. Avery said. Draco strained to hear as she dropped her voice. "And whatever he's stirring up in his department is calling far too much attention to the sections of the Ministry that the Dark Lord is trying to manipulate in order to continue his anti-Mudblood campaign. The point is that Weasley is meddling where he shouldn't and must be stopped."

Draco didn't doubt Arthur Weasley's meddling for a minute. He knew enough about the Weasleys from their children to know how close they were to Dumbledore and how likely it was that Arthur Weasley was one of the many agents of the Order of the Phoenix. He was sure the Dark Lord knew it, too. Maybe what You-Know-Who really wanted was an example made of someone that the wizarding community would recognize. Someone who openly opposed him.

"So what does the Dark Lord mean to do about the man?" Mrs. Greengrass (and the eavesdropper three feet to her right) wanted to know.

"I'm not sure," Mrs. Avery admitted. "All I heard was that he planned to blackmail the family. Apparently, amid the gobs of children that Molly Weasley has churned out, there's a girl. I understand that Lucius used her once before to try and bring the Dark Lord back to life. Now it seems the Dark Lord has shown some interest in her again and wishes for her captivity. She is with her family for the holidays and the Inner Circle's top priority is to abduct her."

Draco froze. Ginny?

"I believe that awful Potter boy is quite attached to her as well," Mrs. Greengrass added with a sneer Draco could hear through the wall. "Perhaps the Dark Lord wishes to use her to lure Potter to him."

"And everyone will want her back," Mrs. Avery finished. "Leverage on Arthur Weasley and blackmail on Harry Potter." She chuckled. "Why do the blood traitors bother fighting, I wonder? Oh, by the way, I have prime tickets to Celestina Warbeck's winter concert – "

Draco sat frozen. Ginny was in danger. It made too much sense to be a fabrication. Ginny could be useful to the Dark Lord in so many ways: she was a lure for Potter and the Weasleys and probably even Albus Dumbledore. Draco had also heard rumors that the youngest Weasley had been involved in opening the Chamber of Secrets Draco's second year, though at the time he'd laughed at the idea. If it were true, though, You-Know-Who might have a permanent connection with Ginny as a result of whatever happened that year. Perhaps he needed her for something apart from blackmail.

Draco stepped back from the wall, muttering, "Corpulentus," as he went. He pushed the secret doorway open and wandered back to his room, not bothering to look for house-elves. Once locked into his room, he threw himself onto his bed and stared at the canopy for a long time, lost in thought. He could probably warn Dumbledore in time for him to do something to protect Ginny. He wouldn't have a prayer of convincing her family.

Once upon a time, you wouldn't have given a damn about Weasleys, he thought irritably. But the thought of a bunch of Death Eaters getting their hands on Ginny, the thought of the way they might treat her … If Draco were honest with himself, he wouldn't wish that lot on any girl. He scowled as he tried to categorize this protective feeling for Ginny with how he felt toward Pansy sometimes. It didn't work and he swore, punching his fist into a pillow.

Darkness had settled outside his bedroom windows when he finally heard Aden's footfalls down the corridor outside his room. "Alabastus," Draco called, pointing his wand at the door. It flew open and a strangled curse came from behind it.

"Maim me, why don't you?" Aden appeared in the doorway, rubbing his shoulder and glowering at Draco.

"I need to talk to you," Draco told him, sitting up and putting his face in his hands.

"Yeah, I got that when your door tried to break my face," Aden snapped but he pulled out Draco's desk chair and slumped into it. "What?"

"Did you hear anything about Ginny Weasley tonight?" Draco asked, peeking through his fingers at his brother.

"Funny, I did." Aden sharp eyes flicked over Draco, taking in his tousled hair and dusty robes. "They're planning to abduct her. In fact, they put Lucius in charge tonight. Lucius wants her taken when she visits Diagon Alley, a display of Death Eater power."

"Sod all," Draco groaned, bunching his duvet in his hands.

"That's not all I heard," Aden said. He joined Draco on the end of the bed and stretched out with a long sigh. He had dark circles under his eyes, worse than usual. "Although you might enjoy this more. You know Dad wants me to marry soon, to secure the entail of the Malfoy estate, which is only good if I'm married. Tradition rubbish, you know. Anyway, guess who your new sister-in-law might be if I don't find someone better, and soon?"

"Who?" Draco couldn't help being distracted by the subject change. Aden didn't talk much about the pressure he was under to marry and marry well. The Malfoy estate went to the eldest child, so long as that child was married and thus had the capacity to carry on the bloodline. The marriage also had to tie the name Malfoy to a pure-blood family, thus maintaining the magical bloodline.

"Pansy Parkinson," Aden muttered, his lip curling.

His younger brother gave a surprised laugh.

"You're not serious," he said. He wasn't sure who he pitied more, his brother or Pansy, but he knew that the idea of his brother marrying her both irritated and bothered him. "I thought they wanted me to marry her. Everyone always assumes we're shagging or been set an arranged marriage or something."

"But what does her family gain if she marries you?" Aden countered, staring at the canopy with her fingers laced behind his head. "I'm the heir. I get the money and property and all that. Merlin, I'm fucked, aren't I?"

"Looks like," Draco grumbled. He glanced down at his brother. "And Pansy's my friend, so if you do marry her I suggest you be good to her."

"Cut me a break, Draco," Aden said in disgust. "I can't stand the twat. Anyway, she's – what – fifteen?"

"Almost eighteen," Draco corrected sharply. "Cut it out, Den. I know you're not happy, but –"

"What, you think because I don't like a girl I'd treat her badly?" Aden sent him a disgusted look.

"Right, I know," Draco said, looking away. "Can we not talk about Pansy right now because – "

"Yeah, yeah, you've got bigger problems," Aden said, waving a hand. "I forgot. It's all about Draco."

"Yeah, and I've got to do something for Ginny," Draco said with a herculean effort not to rise to the bait. "I can't leave her to the Dark Lord." He turned his head to look at his brother again. "I mean – god, Den, imagine an innocent girl in the hands of blokes like Avery and Uncle Adolphus." Or Aunt Bellatrix but Draco tried not to think about her.

"Point taken," Aden said. He gave Draco a small grin. "And being mad about her has nothing to do with you wanting to protect her, I'm sure." He frowned, deep in thought. "Warning her wouldn't help," he said slowly. "She couldn't do anything. Dad knows what he's about. And no point in you warning her family. They'd never believe you." He lay for a moment in contemplative silence, and Draco let him think without interruption. Finally, Aden glanced up at him and Draco knew immediately that he wouldn't like what his brother had to say. "There's only one way to make sure that she'll be really safe."

"What?" Draco braced himself.

"You have to get to her first," Aden said.

"What?"

"The only way you'll know that she's safe is by putting yourself in a position to watch out for her. Or, rather, put her in a position to be watched."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Not a suggestion, kid." Aden eyed him grimly. "You've got to bring her here yourself, before the Death Eaters find her."

"Are you mad?" Draco demanded. "I'd be playing right into Father's hands!"

"Not if you're clever," Aden insisted, dropping his voice and sitting up. "If she goes missing and the only people who know where she is are you, me, her father, and a Secret-Keeper, I reckon she could live right here in the house and no one would know. And if Dad goes looking for her, where's the last place he'll think to check?"

Draco blew out a long, careful breath. "His own house," he conceded.

"Thank me later." Aden grinned a little.

"So how do I do it?" Draco asked. "I would need someone really on Weasley's side for Secret-Keeper, first of all …" He trailed off as the obvious answer came to him. He groaned. "I hate my life."

"You seem to have someone in mind," Aden prompted.

"Of course. Albus Dumbledore," Draco said quickly, just to get it over with. "He's barking mad, but I reckon the Weasleys trust him more than anyone else. He'd be an ideal Secret-Keeper. And he'd be able to explain everything to Ginny's mum and dad so they'd understand."

"Good enough," Aden agreed. "You should Owl him straight away. You can use Ares. That way Dad won't get suspicious. I'll get him."

They spent almost an hour composing a detailed letter to Dumbledore. There was a good deal of rewriting and revising before it sounded convincing enough to either of them. Even when it was complete, Draco had his doubts. He had never shown any respect for Dumbledore's rules and had, on many occasions, deliberately ignored his lectures about tolerance and "common decency." And now, here he was, asking the man to trust him with the life of a girl whose family he had made it his policy to persecute.

Not that Ron Weasley and good-for-nothing Potter didn't deserve it.

"Good as it gets." He signed his name and handed the quill to his brother.

"Read it back," Aden ordered after he'd signed his own name. He returned to his slouched seat on the desk with his back against the wall.

Draco cleared his throat.

Professor Dumbledore,

My brother and I hope this letter finds you well. We have a matter of importance that needs your immediate attention. As you know, my father is closely connected with the Dark Lord's Inner Circle. My brother and I recently attended a gathering thrown by our father, and learned that plans are being made to blackmail Arthur Weasley. His daughter Ginevra is to be taken hostage. We don't know when but we think it will happen sometime during the Christmas holidays. We don't know what he'll do with Ginevra when he has her, but whatever it is, assume the worst.

We want to help protect Ginevra. We have a plan that we think will protect her temporarily. We won't say anymore now, but please contact us three days from today (the 7th of December).We will be in Draco's room at Malfoy Manor in early evening.

Thank you,

Draco and Aden Malfoy

"That'll work." Aden nodded slowly. "Ares is really fast. He'll have the letter to Hogwarts in plenty of time for Dumbledore to contact you."

"Right." Draco reached for a piece of twine and bound the letter to the leg of the enormous owl that was perched on Aden's shoulder. Aden unlatched the window and Ares soared into the night, disappearing over the forest.

"Guess that's it, then," Draco murmured, leaning on the windowsill.

"For you, anyway," Aden muttered, and Draco suddenly remembered Pansy.

"About that," he said. "Look, there're plenty of rich pure-bloods who'd give their right leg and first born child to be married to you. You are the Malfoy heir."

"I know." Aden grinned at his brother. "I'd always kind of hoped to do the courtship, romance, true love thing, but I guess I don't really have that kind of time." He paused, then added, "And I honestly can't think of a woman I want to spend eternity with so I'll have to find someone I can at least tolerate."

"Have any close friends you could con into it?" Draco asked.

"Well, there are a few," Aden said slowly. "But I value their friendship too much to – " He broke off. A moment later, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "I wonder what Jackie's up to these days," he murmured, toying absently with Draco's best quill.

"Who's that?" Draco asked. He only knew a couple of his brother's friends, but that name didn't ring a bell.

"Old school nemesis," Aden said distantly, the smile becoming nostalgic. "I gave her hell, she gave me black eyes – when I let her. Kind of like your friend Ginny. Horribly poor, though. Not important enough to for me to marry."

"Couldn't you make something up?" Draco asked. He was surprised when his brother laughed.

"Of course," he said, his eyes lighting up. "You're a bleeding genius, mate! Third year – god, I can't believe I forgot!"

"What?" Draco demanded, turning from the window to face his brother.

"Third year was when Jackie transferred to Durmstrang," Aden explained. "Her father put her in Durmstrang, hoping to get himself into the Dark Lord's crowd. He was dirt poor, though, and only a half-blood. In order to get Jackie in, he had to create this whole fake fortune and name for his family. He invented a whole story, saying they lived in the Far East. The façade lasted until sixth year. Then a relative blew his cover. Jackie was expelled but so powerful a witch that Dumbledore took her in at Hogwarts. She was a Ravenclaw, I think."

"So you're thinking … what?" Draco prompted.

"Well, she's bound to be around somewhere," Aden said. "I'll just dig her up and offer the chance to be the richest witch in England. She hates poverty – let's face it, who wouldn't? I think she's come round. We'd just have to come up with some alias for her and make up a rich family somewhere. God, I love a challenge!"

"What's her last name?" Draco asked.

"Her real last name is Pierce," Aden said absently.

Draco frowned.

"Her name's Jackie Pierce?" he asked. "That's weird."

"Why?"

"Well, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is Professor Pierce and I think …" Draco paused, but he was sure he remembered Dumbledore saying her full name at the opening feast last September. "I think," he resumed, "her first name is Jacqueline."

Aden's eyes widened. "That was her full name. She always liked Jackie better." He paused, shaking his head. "Well, she'd be ideal for something like Defense Against the Dark Arts. We studied the Dark Arts almost exclusively at Durmstrang. What does she look like?"

"She's tall, almost as tall as me," Draco said. "She's got light brown hair and dark eyes." He scowled. "And she's the scariest professor I've ever had." And that was saying something, considering he'd had Professor Snape for six years.

"That's her, I'm sure of it." Aden shook his head, his eyes fixed on the darkening horizon beyond the window. "Bet I could convince her take on an alias."

"If she's anything like Ginny, good luck and try not to lose an eye," Draco muttered doubtfully.

"You question my skills," Aden cried dramatically, clutching his chest. "I'll never recover, Draco!"

Draco bit back a chuckle but couldn't stop a yawn.

"I'm going, I'm going," Aden said, nudging Draco and heading for the door.

"Aden?" Draco called after him.

"Yeah?"

"Are you serious about Professor Pierce?"

Aden smirked.

"A little faith, kid," he said. "We're practically on our honeymoon."

)SOMETIMES(

TBC