Ginny sat perched on the edge of his desk, and although the parchment in front of him had been begging his attention for weeks, his mind's eye kept wandering back to how he'd rather be spending the evening.

He looked so studious, with his reading spectacles sliding down his nose and a bit of fair hair falling into his eyes. It really was rather cute. "What's that?"

"Cost estimates on having someone come in and re-landscape."

"Why? The gardens are lovely in an ominous, foreboding sort of way. If you change them, they won't go with the manor."

"While I adore playing the hero for you every once in awhile, I'm not quite sure I'm up to rescuing you from man-eating flora."

"Party pooper," she pouted playfully. "Let me have a look. I've always excelled at maths." Ginny walked around to his side of the desk. Leaning over him, she looked over the proposal. "This is ridiculous.

"I can't make sense of it either," he admitted."

"Oh, I can make sense of it," she explained. "It's just ridiculous. I mean, look here." She bent over and her curls fell forward to dance across the paper. "Fifteen-hundred for degnoming? An estate of this size shouldn't cost more than four-fifty to degnome. And what's this business about 'labor?' The whole bloody thing is labor, not parts. They can't be tacking on a fee like that."

She trailed off when she noticed Draco wasn't listening any longer. He was staring up at her, and his eyes had gone all dark. He began by nuzzling her neck, and soon all thoughts of maths and landscaping had dissolved. His gentle caresses traveled up the slender column of her throat, and then his lips found hers. He had the overwhelming sensation of being drugged. Everything was in slow motion. It had to have been more than an hour before he pulled her down onto his lap, and it was quite possible he took years running his hands through her silken mass of hair. In actual time, however, it was only a few minutes before she pushed him away.

"You've got to take care of this business with the garden," she told him.

"Later," he breathed, as he dove for her mouth.

"Now," she said firmly. "It'll only take an hour if you put your mind to it."

"I think it'll probably take all night if we put our minds to it." He grinned wolfishly.

"Not that, the garden. You've got to get it done now or you never will. I'm going to go crawl into bed. Wake me when you're done."

"I will," he sighed, already thinking of inventive ways to do just that as she sashayed out the door.

The work was done, as Ginny had predicted, within an hour. He'd owl out everything in the morning, but just now, he had a princess to awaken.




"Snow King is on the move. Visuals on the Minister?" The Commander said.

The hum of computer equipment and the clacking of typing were the only sounds until another replied. "Visuals on the Minister, screens two and three. She's sleeping like a baby... and here he comes."

The man on screen began to strip, and all discrete eyes turned away. "Minimize it. We can at least afford them that courtesy."

"For how long?"

"30 minutes."

"Commander, in the past they've taken hours."

"Courtesy doesn't eliminate the necessity for caution. We're here to do a job, not to shy away from our posts because we've become emotionally involved in a relationship that will most likely end in tragedy," she told them.

"Most likely?"

"I'm arrogant enough to say that my team is good. I won't be foolish enough to call us perfect."

"Right."






Draco slipped into bed, curling around Ginny. "You make the most wonderful little noises when you're waking up."

"I wasn't sleeping," she yawned as she stretched her shoulders. "I was just resting my eyes."

"A likely story," he teased as he rolled her onto her stomach and began to massage her back.

"Incredibly likely considering it takes the average person 45 minutes to fall asleep, and it's always taken me at least twice that," she told him before purring, "lower. How'd you get this good at massage?"

"Part of Marigold's physical therapy." He began kneading the muscles of her lower back. "You're all knotted up back here. You've been spending too long at the ministry."

"You just say that because you feel neglected," Ginny reasoned.

His arms slid around her and he deftly flipped her over. "Can you blame me?" He unbuttoned the bottom of her pajama shirt, and ceremoniously placed a kiss to her navel.

She sighed and arched her back. "Skip that. Get up here."

"Bit impatient, are we?"

"Definitely. Draco," she sighed.

"Coming..."




"Can't we wait until they're done?" One protested.

"Modify screen two to exclude the bed, minimize screen three," dictated the Commander. "We'll let them carry on awhile longer, I suppose."

They sat in silence for awhile, until one of them spoke up. "Did anyone else just see that?"

"See what?" Asked the Commander.

"The cushion on that armchair just moved."

"Close up on the armchair." She leaned close to the screen, looking at the seat cushion which was compressed. "Fuck. All screens on the bedroom, screen one remains on the chair, screen two on the bed..." her voice trailed off as the computer screens flickered then settled on static. The command station erupted into chaos.







Sweaty and sated, Ginny rested her head on Draco's chest. "That was..."

"Amazing," Draco finished.

"Amazingly boring," corrected the voice by the fireplace. "Although entirely educational. I don't recall you ever calling my name out in the heat of passion."

Draco sat up, pushing Ginny behind him. "Pansy, what exactly is your reasoning for being invisible in my room? You found me entirely unsatisfactory as a husband and I don't see why you're not over me by now." Well, he intended to say that anyway. All he really got out was "Pansy? What?"

"It's really quite simple, Draco. Payback, as they say, is a bitch." Then, almost as an after thought, her singsong voice chimed. "Stupefy."






Draco woke with a pounding headache. His wrists were bound together, and his legs were attached to one of the armchairs facing the fireplace.

"Which do you think would be more emotionally damaging- watching me torture her, or just hearing her scream?"

Draco struggled against his bindings.

"Oh, calm down," Pansy said harshly. "She's not even awake yet. She's just a slip of a thing. The spell hasn't worn off yet. We'll wait around for Miss Weasley to join the party. While we're waiting, where exactly is our delightful little daughter?"

At the mention of Marigold, Draco stilled.

"You'd really be amazed the things people blurt out when they think no one's in the room. Odd, isn't it? I've had my people watching you since you returned, and until tonight, I didn't know about anything except your 'secret' tryst with the Minister." She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, if you were trying to keep the whole thing out of the public eye, you shouldn't have been glowering at her all through the gala. Although, somehow, I think it probably was her idea to keep the whole thing a secret."

"Don't try and turn me against her. It's not going to work. Just kill me and be done with it." His voice was low and angry."

"You seem confused about this whole situation. I am the one who makes orders. You're the one bound to the chair. I really imagined you'd catch on much quicker," she sighed. "And I wasn't trying to turn you against her. I'd just imagine that someone like Virginia Weasley wouldn't appreciate being associated with the likes of us."

"You and I are nothing alike."

"That's the understatement of the century. However, our reputations are practically identical. She probably loves the bad boy image you project, but she's not about to take you home to mother, now is she?" Pansy laughed. "Well, I guess she won't really be taking anything home to mother, now. I haven't decided if I'm going to kill her or just drive her completely mad."

"What-"

"Wait a moment, she appears to be waking up...you were right about those little noises. Most endearing. Hullo, Ginny."

"'lo Pansy. I expect you'll be killing us then?"

"Oh, she's a bright one, Draco. Definitely a keeper if things had turned out differently. I suppose we best get down to business then. I think we'll go with the old standard. Reverso!"

Draco's chair flew around, and he saw Ginny laying on the large trunk that lay at the foot of his bed. She appeared to be groggy but unharmed.

"It's kind of like an altar, isn't it. Judging from the little exhibition that you two put on earlier, I somehow doubt that she's a sacrificial virgin. Pity. It would have been interesting. Although I suppose we could do that with Marigold when we find her. Unfortunately, I'm almost certain both of you will have to be near death before I get her location out of you."

"We won't tell you," Ginny said vehemently.

"You never can be sure what you'll do under duress. If I have to kill you both and let the little dear starve to death I will. It'd just be more immediately gratifying to watch her die."

"Why are you doing this? You already have everything you could possibly want," Ginny reasoned.

"That's true. I suppose the time has come for me to reveal my criminally genius evil plan while someone prepares to rescue you. Fortunately for me, I've placed a number of wards on the house that will take hours to remove. No one's getting in here for quite some time, so we've plenty of time to play." She smiled. "I feel torture should be both painful and educational. So we're going to play a game. I ask you a question, you answer correctly, and I'll reward you with an answer to a question of yours. It's incredibly simple. First question goes to Draco darling. Has Ginny ever experience the Cruciatus curse?"

Draco just glared at her.

"Oh don't be a spoilsport," she chided him. "I could just start torturing her now."

"No," Draco said curtly.

"Very good. Ask me your question."

"Why must you involve her in this?"

"Who, Ginny? Well, aside from the obvious reason of her being here, it's convenient. I always intended to kill a minister, I just never really got around to it. Your really don't expect a life of leisure to be quite so jam-packed, but with all the revenge-planning and shoe shopping, I've been hard pressed for a free moment. There's also that bit where you love her, and I hate you." She explained before absentmindedly adding, "crucio."

Ginny's body arched in pain. It was as if white hot knives were being stabbed at her from the inside. Tears began to stream down her face, and her body slid to the floor where she curled into a fetal position.

"First lesson. In this game, all rewards have consequences," Pansy told them gleefully. "Ginny's turn. Ginny, did you know that there are an infinite amount of ways I could hurt you without even using my wand?"

"Yes," Ginny's voice was strong and clean, although it was obvious the pain of the curse was still affecting her body. "How could you do that to your daughter?"

"Quick and to the point. If it weren't for your rabid affection for my ex-husband, I might respect you. Marigold ceased being my daughter when Draco first saw her. Her being such a squib made her not only annoying, but unacceptable. So, I dealt with it. Now for the consequences."

After another curse, Pansy pulled Ginny into a sitting position and knelt next to her while staring at Draco. She pulled a dagger out of her robe. "Let's let Ginny have another turn. Ginny, do you remember this?"

"It's the dagger from my dream," she said in bewilderment. "The dagger that the engagement ring turned in to."

"Once again, very good. I intended for you to kill Draco with it, but somehow your psyche mixed it all up. The end result was just as horrific, however, so I was ultimately pleased."

"You sent me those dreams?"

"I'd give you a biscuit, but I'm fresh out," Pansy patronized. "I really think one of you would have figured it out by now. 'Hmm... We're all being plagued by terrible dreams... perhaps someone is sending them to us...' Maybe guilt makes you daft. It wasn't all me, after all. The two of you are harboring enough guilt to put the Catholics out of business, Draco especially. It's understandable, considering his actions destroyed poor little Neville, and his inaction permanently crippled Marigold. And now you Ginny. All for the love of a socially unacceptable man. A little too Emily Bronte for my taste, but to each his own. I've babbled enough though. Time for a consequence." She made a show out of it, running the blade down her index finger before finally carving the word "love" into Ginny's forehead. The blood ran in rivulets down Ginny's face, and her eyes winced shut at the pain.

"Done!" Pansy proclaimed triumphantly as she turned her attention to Draco. "Oh don't look so tense. It's not like I cut an artery. I wouldn't even consider jeopardizing what promises to be a very rewarding evening."





At the command center, all hell had broken loose. Computers were being rebooted, cables checked, and the problem was horribly obvious. Some kind of electrical disturbance had destroyed any connection they'd had to Malfoy Manor. It was as if an invisible force field had been placed around the mansion's gates, stopping everything, including signals, from getting in.

"Give me a time estimate on the return of the surveillance systems."

"Three hours on the inside, Commander, if we're extremely lucky."

"We aren't. The entire mission hangs in the balance. Call in the locals."





"Green dot on the pumpkin stuff!" Harry exclaimed as Hermione slipped out of his arms. Shaking his head as if to dislodge the dream, he asked her, "Where're you going?"

"There's an owl at the window. Probably urgent."

She pushed the window open an a brown owl flew in. She pulled the parchment off its leg and blanched.

"Fuck."

Harry rolled over. "See you in a few days."






"After Marigold was born, I used to wonder why it'd been so easy for you to turn away from me. Then I realized that you never were truly devoted to the cause. Sure, you'd throw out a few curses, throw your weight behind it, did your fair share of wooing the Dark Lord, but the passion was never really there. You missed the point of the whole movement, Draco. It's about power. About the power to crush the people who hurt you, crucio,"-another curse hurled at Ginny. "Or disobey you, crucio,"-another. "Or just plain piss you off. That's what you never developed, Draco. The power to hurt people just because you can, because it's fun, cru-"

But Pansy never finished her diatribe. A small, incredibly calm voice called out, "Stupefy," and Pansy froze. In the same moment, Pansy collapsed and Draco's wand fell out of Marigold's hand, clattering to the floor.