Fred Weasley groaned softly, blearily blinking open his eyes. The tall, slim figure of Lucius Malfoy entered into his visage, and Fred smiled in relief at the sight.

"Uncle Luc! Thank goodness!" Relief evident in both his face and his voice, Fred quickly sat up, ignoring the blinding pain that exploded in his head as he wrapped his arms around the taller man's waist.

Lucius Malfoy blinked in surprise, the only outward display of the shock he was feeling on thie inside. He reache ddown, wrapping one arm around the boy's middle, as he ran his fingers through thick, silky red hair.

"I was so scared, Uncle Luc. Why would that Death Eater take me like that? Do you think Papa will punish him for making me take the Dark Mark?"

Again, Lucius Malfoy found himself blinking in surprise at the words comming out fo the red-head's mouth.

'Papa? Who the hell is Papa and why would he be the one to punish this supposed Death Eater who engraved the Dark Mark upon his arm?'

Thinking back on the conversation that he'd had with the Dark Lord earlier that day, Lucius suddenly smiled, continuing to trail his fingers through Fred's think red hair.

Fred WEasley saw the Dark Lord Voldermort as a second father, a man that he looked up and to and wanted, with all of hismight to emulate.

"Fred, I need you to getup. We need you to head home, tell you parents that Lord Voldermort kidnapped you, forced the Dark Mark on you."

Fred jerked back away from the pale man, glaring heatedly. "But, Papa would never do that! Not ever!" His eyes narrowed as Lucius continued to smile in that damned, infuriating way.

"Fred, you now very well that not everybody sees himas you do. Most people believe him to be al ying, decietful bastard, a murderer of women and childeren ........ a psychopath. If you try and explain to anybody back at your house what he's like with you ......... they'll simply believe that he's done something to you, playied with your mind somehow. So you haveto lie. You know all of this, Fred."

Lucius sighed in relief as he watched Fred's shoulders sag, and he quickly pulled the boy into a comforting embrace.

"it's just ........ I hate how everybody sees him, how Dumbledore twists what he's trying to do ........ How he kills all those people, hried those men to act like their Papa's folowers, and nobody ever thinks to questions that psychotic oldloon! I just hate it so much!" Fred's words had risen, louder and louder in volume, until ge was shouting the last words.

Luvcius simply tightened his arms around the red-head's now shaking frame, allowing the boy's tears to fall freely.

Albus Dumbledore was evil. Fred WEasley knew that, knew it with all of his heart and soul ........ and he hated the man with a passion.

he could remember, s clearly, that maked death EAter grabbing him in the middle of the night, as he walked to one of his meeting with Papa. With Lord voldermort.

Meetings. Hah. Was it even ALLOWED for him to call them that? All tha tis ever really entitled was llose conversation about anything and everything that came to theirminds, all served over a light dinner of his favourite foods.

Fred sighed softly, slowly setting himself down onto the ground just outside of The Burrow, wincing slightly as his side protested at the extra weight being placed on it.

In order to make their story of capture and torture at the hands of Lord Voldermort more believable, Papa had been forced to cast cer tain spells ........ spells that had promptly cuased Fred to pass out for nearly an hour, after which time he had woken to find various welts and bruises covering his body, in some places that he REALLY didn't want to think about.

It had hurt ........ alot. But it had to be done. There cold be noc hance of anybody suspecting the true nature of his relationship to Lord voldermort.

They hadn't been able to apparate him directly here, and had been forced to send him twomiles ouot, just outside of the anti-apparation wards now surrounding his home.

Papa hadn't liked that, either, but again, it couldn't be helped.

Wimpering softly in pain, fRed curled himself into a tightlittle ball a he frantically attempted to block out the bone-wrenching pain. He finially succeeded, falling asleep just as the first way of light were making their way toward the Burrow.

Molly Weasley had a habit ........ a tradition, if you will. Every motning, she woke with the sun and opened every window in teh downstairs, allowing sunlight and fred ait to stream in. Weather permitting, of course.

And thismorning, the weather wasmost DEFINATELY permitting. Molly smiled softly, idly wondering if George could, perhaps, be coaxed into going outside on such a fine day.

It was as she opened the main window, close to the door, that Milly saw the body.

Fred hair matted and dirty, clothes and ripped practically to shreds, Fred Weasley lay on the doorstep, body twisted to an odd angle. But alive. He was most definately alive, if the ragged rise and fall of his chest was anything to go by.

Molly screamed. Screamed with all her might, screamed as she hadn't screamed since before the downfall of Lord voldermot in the first war.

Ginny was the first one to make it to hermother, her door being closest to the stair.

Molly Weasley was siting, her back to her daughet, holding the head of all, gangly red-head in her lap, the rest of his body sprawled out across the floor.

Finny sighed softly, leaning heavily against the kitchen counter. George must have woken up in the nigt again, had a panic attack and come down here. It happened almost every night, ever since Fred had ........ dissappeared. He'd tried to be quiet about it, but ........ he wasn't exactly the most quiet of things, tramping up and down the stairs in the middle of the night.

She's though about following him down so many times, of trying to comfort him, helping to ease the pain she knew hemust be feeling. But what could see possibly say that would make him feel even the slighest bit better? Nothing. So she had left him to cry in solitude.

Turning to head back to her room, Ginny gasped softly as ran straight into a solid, obviously male chest.

"Hey, Gin, what's goin on?" George asked softly y awning widely and running a hand through his messy red hair.

Ginny felt her blood run cold, as she slowly raied her eyes to stare into her brother's chocolate brown eyes.

"George ... I ... Fred, I mean ..." Finny knew that he was babbling, but couldn't seem to stop herself. If George was here, stading in front of her, than that meant that ........

"Fred!" Ginny gasped out, spinning on her heel andmaking a mad dash for the door.

George followed more sedately, cautiously behind his sister, carefully keeping hismind clear of any insane or foolish thoughts thatmight drifs through, giving him false hopes.

Ginny was gasping for breath as she came to a st op just behind her mother, but it wasn't from the physical exertion.

She'd given up hope days ago, of Fred ever returning to them. She wasn't stupid - she knew the odds. Fred had been kindapped -- by Death Eaters. You just ........ didn't survive something like that.

Voldermort did NOT show mercy, and he did not make mistakes. Ginny knew that -- not from mths or stories, but from personal experience. Everyting he did, he did with a specific purpose in mind.

Ginny quickly moved aside and away as she heard George's sharply indrawn breath, giving her brother ample time to rush to his twin's side.

Fred was alive, for a specific purpose and reason. But WHY?