Summary: No knows what happened inside that room, no one but Kira Malfoy…the supposed daughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy…and the Dark Lord. She's relieved when she is asked to attend Hogwarts away from Him. The Slytherin girl soon learns that there's more to life than being used and re-used when she falls in love with a certain Gryffindor, and not just any Gryffindor...a Weasley.

DISCLAIMER: No, I don't own Harry Potter. I only own the OC Kira Malfoy and certain plot lines.

Fred blinked, not quite remembering how he'd ended up in the Forbidden Forest. And he wasn't alone, he could feel it. He turned and saw the Slytherin beauty standing next to him. Her face was turned away from Fred, hidden beneath her long dark bangs. Feeling compelled, he reached out and gently took her cheeks in his hands, tilting her head upward to expose her face. Her cheeks were tear-stained and fear showed through her dark lashes, her whole body seemed a bit shaky.

"It hurts, Fred."

Fred's chest clenched at the sight of her looking so vulnerable and he felt the impulse to protect her from whatever it was that was hurting her. He wiped her tears and pulled the hair from her face, not quite knowing why he was being so tender. "What hurts?"

"The pain, make it go away," she begged. "Please."

She placed a hand on his chest, fisting the fabric of his shirt and tugging him toward her slightly.

"I…I'm not sure what you expect me to do."

Then she spoke so softly Fred wasn't quite sure he'd heard her correctly, "Yes you do."

Fred inched forward until their bodies touched, pushing her backwards gently so her spine came to rest against the tree behind her. His body came to rest comfortably against hers. He placed his forehead against her own, touching the tip of his nose against hers lightly.

"Touch me," she whispered.

Her breath against Fred's skin made his spine shiver.

She took hold of one of his hands and moved it to her waist, then snaked her arms around the back of his neck. She leaned her head forward, inching painfully slow, as if to kiss him.

"Fred, touch me more."

Caressing her cheek tenderly with one hand Fred leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against hers. The way Kira moaned slightly and arched herself into his body made him go hot all over.

Almost against his will Fred thought of what he'd seen in the hospital wing. Did he want to see again? Well, why lie to himself by saying no?

Then she pushed him away from her, looking suddenly distressed. "Why would you think of something like that? You lecher!"

How had she known what he'd been thinking?

"Leave me alone, Fred!" She shoved him square in the chest again. "Just wake up!"

"What?" he asked stupidly.

She dealt him a hard icy slap across the face.

"Fred…Fred!"

Fred woke with jolt from the dream, not fully realizing what had happened. He was a loss for breath and could feel a coat of sweat on his whole body. Sensing something in front of him, Fred looked up; his twin loomed over him with a devious smirk painted on his face. The room was still dark and Fred could hear Lee Jordan's muffled snores traveling across the dormitory.

"George? Did you just wake me up?" Fred asked breathlessly. "What…what the hell are you doing?"

His brother raised an eyebrow, "Sleep well?"

"Erm, you could say that. Did you wake me just to ask how I was sleeping?"

"I didn't actually," George said matter-of-factly, "but I have a feeling that waking you from sex dreams is bound to become a ritual thing, which is fairly disturbing."

Bloody hell. Of all times to be talking in his sleep, why did it have to be when he was dreaming about Kira? Fred's lips pursed, "You enjoyed saying that didn't you?"

George inhaled pleasantly, "I did derive some pleasure from mortifying you."

"You blooming tosspot," Fred muttered.

"Well, many people would say that you deserve worse," George pointed out.

Fred chose to ignore the statement. "So…what are you really doing?" he yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

George clicked his tongue, "You were starting to make a racket, fool, so I thought I'd quiet you down a bit before someone else noticed. I actually woke you up for your own good."

Fred paused, "Oh."

George sniggered, "Well, now that you're awake I have something I'd like to ask." He moved to sit on the edge of Fred's bed. "How'd it go last night?"

Fred flushed, "I think it's a bit early for talk like that."

"Is it?" George frowned, "I suppose you'd like me to leave you alone then."

"I do, actually." Fred fell back against his pillow in relief, wrapping his blankets around him and shutting his eyes peacefully.

"Fred," George said quietly as he remained unmoving at the edge of Fred's bed.

"Yes?" he inquired impatiently without opening his eyes to look at his twin.

"You still have an obligation to the D.A. Don't screw things up by getting in too deep with her."

Fred heard his brother move away to slip into his own bed.

"I do what I want," Fred stated calmly.

"I know," George replied, "You always do, as do I. It's in our nature."

"Then why—"

"You're not stupid, Fred, but you are impulsive," George interrupted. "I don't want you to forget why you're getting to know this Malfoy in the first place,"

Fred spoke through gritted teeth, "There's a chance Kira genuinely wants to join the D.A. If Hermione would just let her sign the list that's all we would need, there wouldn't be any need for spying or 'getting friendly'. Ron told me the list is enchanted, we'd know if she betrayed us."

"It's not a chance Hermione thinks we should risk. True, we'd know if she rat us out after joining, but Kira can't exactly rat us out if she doesn't know where we're meeting or who we're meeting with in the first place. It's best to keep her on the outs."

Fred didn't find a point in replying.

"Well, brother, now you know where I stand."

I looked into my father's cold blue eyes with confusion.

I remember asking him as a child why he didn't protect me from the other Death Eaters, and he'd merely replied by saying: Because I know you can protect yourself, and he'd handed me a wand and left me standing there.

It was the same wand I still carried around in my pocket.

Never had I expected him to protect me from anything I couldn't handle myself, but this was not a situation where I could protect myself. I needed his protection this time. He was my father, or that's what he'd called himself for the past sixteen years, and now that I needed him he was abandoning me.

"Did you clearly hear what I just said girl?" He rearranged himself to a more comfortable position in his seat.

"Clear as mud." I grit my teeth, "What will it take to do to make you love me?"

He had the audacity to laugh, "And what makes you think I'm capable of love?"

"I see the way you look at Draco and mother. I know you feel it, even if you don't show it."

He looked at me in contempt for a moment with pursed lips. "If I look at them any way it's because they're my family, my blood."

So he was finally admitting that he wasn't really my blood father. "Then tell me who to turn to!" I snapped, my voice echoing off the walls of his study where we talked. "Tell me who my blood is!"

"Alright," he said simply.

I stopped fuming in surprise; was he joking? Just like that? No, things were never so simple with Lucius Malfoy.

He pulled a red envelope from his desk. "The contents of this envelope reveal the whereabouts and identity of your real parents. Do what I ask, what He asks, and it shall be yours."

And I did. I did what he'd asked, sacrificing a small bit of my mentality in doing so, but still he hadn't given it to me. He'd withheld it, saying that Voldemort had asked more of me. And now, here I was, still doing the Dark Lord's bidding because of my father's hold over me.

I sat up and yawned softly. It was very early in the morning; I could just barely see light forming on the horizon from the window next to my bed in the hospital wing. Apparently even the strongest of sleeping drafts couldn't grant me a full night's sleep. I suppose it was the longest I'd slept in months, and at least I hadn't dreamt of…Him.

I sighed and slumped back into my bed, my hand rubbing my stomach.

I wondered what the child would look like. Madam Pomfrey had told me that my 'bodily history' with the Crutiatus Curse could cause complication with the child. If that were true, perhaps it would be ugly and deformed; I wasn't quite sure why that thought brought me pleasure. It sickened me that it was growing in my stomach, for it was certainly no child of mine; it was his child bred for his own purposes. It would look nothing like me and everything like its father, perhaps even worse than its father. The gender wouldn't matter to Voldemort, I knew. His second after all was a woman, my aunt Bellatrix Lestrange. Though she was in Azkaban at present.

Still stroking my slightly inflated stomach I thought of how much school I'd been missing. Of course I could make it up, but people were starting to notice something was wrong with me. I had no idea how I was going to hide my stomach from my peers as my belly grew bigger. I reached for the vitamin potion Madam Pomfrey had set out for me the previous night and downed its contents.

I suppose Fred had given me the motivation I needed to drink it. The little git.

Then I bit my lip, startled by a sudden thought. Perhaps Snape could help me with my problem?

Without putting much thought into what I was doing, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the infirmary to table where Madam Pomfrey had set my clothes. I felt exposed, parading myself about the hospital wing with not a scrap of clothes on my back. At least it was still a bit dark.

I picked up my robes and dressed in them as quickly as I could. No doubt someone would have a laugh if they walked in on such a sight. And with that I fled the infirmary as briskly as I'd dressed.

Snape was not at all pleased to see me, though he didn't show it. He regarded me with his usual stoic expression. "How can I be of service, Miss Malfoy?"

"I…need your help with something."

"I'll not promise anything."

"You will, Professor," I persuaded, "because if you do I'll tell you why I'm here. I got the impression that you'd like to know."

Snape raised an eyebrow then wordlessly nodded, guiding me into the candlelit classroom and shutting the door behind me. I looked at him as he pulled his wand from his robes and waved it over his head. The classroom was suddenly enveloped in a thin layer of blue light that quickly disappeared.

"Surely soundproofing the room is a bit paranoid," I stated curiously.

"Paranoid but necessary," Snape replied firmly. "There are several sets of ears in this school which would very much like to pry from conversations such as these that take place while the rest of the school is still sleeping."

I cleared my throat, "Well, shall I get straight to the point?"

He nodded curtly, "You shall."

"I'm pregnant, as you well know. Because I'm still in the early stages of the pregnancy, I can easily hide my stomach beneath my robes. However, it's inevitable that there will come a point when I can't hide my…growth."

He waited for me to continue then slowly crossed his arms when I didn't. "I don't see how this topic has anything to do with me," he said dryly.

"What I'd like to ask of you is…whether or not any potions I can take that will hide my stomach exist, for when that time comes."

"Of course," he replied, "As well as potions that exterminate the pregnancy completely."

I swallowed, "That won't be necessary."

"Ah, so you intend to keep it."

"I would be killed if I didn't."

After scrutinizing my face for a moment he said stoically, "Fine, I'll help you."

I shifted nervously, "I suppose I should hold up my end of the bargain."

"That would be ideal," he deliberated.

I waited a moment before taking a seat at one of the many empty desks. Snape, who had remained standing, looked at me with a hard speculative stare.

I breathed deeply before speaking. "You-Know-Who is looking for something...a Prophecy. He thinks that if he can find it before Potter sees it, my father can use it as leverage to lure the boy out on his own. He wants to know what's on that prophecy rather badly."

I raised my eyebrow at the knowing look that flashed upon the Professor's face then disappeared quickly.

Snape cleared his throat before I could continue, "And he's willing to risk you to get it? You do realize that you're rather valuable right now, don't you?"

I shook my head, "He chose me to come here because my father suggested it. I am of the right age, I'm skilled with a wand, and I'm decently intelligent and good at processing information, not to mention good at acting. And…he has leverage over me."

He quirked an eyebrow, looking almost curious. "And that would be…?"

I paused; did I really want to tell Snape about something this personal? I inwardly shrugged, "He knows who my real parents are, he keeps an envelope with their names and whereabouts written inside. I believe it's a letter that was handed to the Malfoys when they took me in."

"Hn. So you aren't a Malfoy after all."

"No one ever pretended that they thought I was," I said bitterly, "least of all the Malfoys. It wasn't a surprise, more of a confirmation. So," I crossed my legs, "back to the reason I'm here. The Dark Lord is in search of the Prophecy; at the moment he's figuring out how to infiltrate the Ministry so he can get into the Department of Mysteries. However, he suspects that Dumbledore has already done just that. So he's sent me to Hogwarts to…do a bit of infiltrating on the side."

"Meaning…what exactly?" Snape asked after a moment of silence on my end.

I sighed, "Meaning I'm supposed to find out if the prophecy has been brought to Hogwarts for protection."

"Hm," was all Snape said.

"And…on the side I'm also supposed to keep an eye on Potter. To make sure that people still think he's a loony."

"That should not prove to be too difficult," the potions master pointed out. "Well, if that's all you have to say then I have nothing further to ask. You may go."

"That is all," I said slowly. My eyebrows pulled together, "So you'll make this potion then, I take it?"

He nodded slightly, "If and when I'm given the chance."

I surveyed his expression for a moment, "I'm going to have to assume you know something about the Prophecy, Professor."

"Why is that?"

"You didn't ask me about the Prophecy which means that you have some prior knowledge of what it is. Also the fact that you're Dumbledore's lackey."

Snape smirked unpleasantly, "I suppose that's one way of looking at it. But, sadly, I know nothing. I ask not because I care not. Is that a good enough explanation for you, Miss Malfoy?"

I stared back at him evenly; I knew when I was being lied to. I was sure he knew something that could be helpful to me, but apparently he was going to pretend he didn't. I decided not to push this topic immediately, I wasn't going to get anywhere with Snape on this matter today.

"For now," I said casually as I stood up and began walking out. "Pleasure doing business with you, Professor."

"The pleasure was mine," he replied dismally to my back.

I fled from the room, not taking a single look back.

There was no one in the hallway, though I suspected people were out and about. Light soaked the passage from a large window at the end of the corridor; the sun must have rose while I was speaking with Snape in the windowless dungeons.

I sighed, what to do on a Saturday morning when you've come to a dead end on your espionage mission for Voldemort? Or also when you have no hobbies or friends to speak of? You eat, I decided, heading to the great hall in hopes a large breakfast. The morning sickness had ceased and I'd been rather hungry lately.