Thank you to everyone for reviewing, and I hope you all enjoy the third chapter.  Now that I'm getting into it, I'm going to try to make my chapters longer.

Draco's hands were not quite steady as he straightened his perfectly tailored black robes in front of the mirror.  Luckily it was too well trained to say anything more than a discreet "have a nice day, sir", before he turned away abstractedly.

It was Ginny's first day, and Draco did not know what to expect.  As he made his way towards his office, he scowled.  She was to tell people that she had started as his personal assistant, but he would not see her at all during the day unless there was something scheduled.  He had added her to the payroll, however.  It wouldn't do for his apprentice to be unavailable due to prior work commitments.  If she should be with him, she would have to apparate in with no warning.

He wondered if she would be discouraged from her course if he took to randomly summoning her: she could be useful.

There was never enough time to properly co-ordinate his wardrobe, for example.  And although shabby – Draco's aristocratic nose twitched at the thought, as if it had detected some nonexistent stench – her clothes had been well suited to her.

She had a flair for colour.

Of course, he had already known that.

Had remembered it from Hogwarts.

Even though he, being a Malfoy, had, of course, never noticed her while he was there.

Confused, and irritated by the confusion – Malfoys never harboured doubts, and always knew what to think, and what to do, and were never wrong – Draco blamed Ginny for his state.

She had done something to make him question what he was doing.

Or perhaps, more accurately, exactly why he was doing it.

By mid afternoon Draco's nerves were stretched so thin that his secretary – always nervous – decided to take the rest of the day off.

Her timing was impeccable, as Peter Pettigrew apparated rather clumsily into the reception only five minutes after she had shut the door behind her with a decided, and rather disgruntled, click.  Almost tripping as he landed in the thick carpeting that Draco abhorred (it was so nice to be able to actually HEAR yourself walk), his small, beady eyes darted nervously in the direction of the empty desk.  On ascertaining that there was nobody around, he hesitantly headed toward the door to Draco's office, and nodded timidly.

"Come in," Draco barked, assuming it was Ms Smart, as he had not yet realised that she had gone.

Pettigrew pushed the door open slightly and sidled in.

Draco looked up and realised who it was.  A look of loathing crossed his face.

"Wormtail."

Peter squeaked.

The burden of the conversation falling on him once more, Draco sighed.  "And what brings you here?" he queried, in an exaggeratedly patient tone.

For a second, Pettigrew appeared enraged – Draco perked up at that – but it retreated quickly.  He finally began to speak.

"Our Lord requires you.  I am to take you to him."

"Ah.  Hold on a second," holding up a hand to fend off any advance Wormtail might feel it was prudent to make – Voldemort did not like waiting, and might blame him for the delay – Draco reached for his wand, and then performed the prearranged summoning spell he and Ginny had agreed upon.

She apparated right into the room only five seconds later, clad in a short, green robe, with silver trimming.

She glared at him.

"Was this necessary right now?  I was trying on dresses for Ron's wedding.  If I take too long, I'm pretty certain they'll notice that I am no longer in the changing room."

Draco looked at her appreciatively, quickly masking his expression with indifference.

"You signed up for this, Weasley.  What did you expect?"

The question was rhetorical.

Draco turned toward Pettigrew.

"Weasley, here, is my apprentice.  I don't think she's ready to meet our Lord, but she should see what goes on.  When we get there, put her somewhere where she will go unnoticed."

A strange expression came into Wormtail's eyes, but was suppressed as soon as it arrived, much as the anger from earlier had been.

Could it have been pity?

Or disgust?

Ginny was settled into a small room from which she could both hear and, with the help of a small peep hole, see exactly what was going on between Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Draco left to join the gathering.

Voldemort was in full force when he arrived with Pettigrew by his side.  He had obviously got bored waiting for Draco, and had decided to entertain himself.

The muggle being used for the entertainment did not look pleased.

In fact, Draco thought, he looked rather dead.

Voldemort looked up as Draco approached, and his serpentine eyes lit up – inasmuch as they were capable of doing so.  He released the muggle, who crashed bonelessly to the floor.  Draco winced inwardly: it might not be quite dead.

"Ahhh . . . Draco."

Draco prostrated himself beside Pettigrew, as was expected, but not before noticing that in the cluster of black-robed figures beside his master were Crabbe and Goyle with their fathers, his own father, and Severus Snape.

"We have heard some rather disturbing news, Draco."

Draco did not rise, instead waiting for an acknowledgement and leave to do so.

"Yes, yes, rise and speak with me, young Malfoy."

Draco did so, asking as he did "and what was this disturbing news, my Lord?"

Voldemort's eyes narrowed.  "Severus has informed me that Dumbledore has a spy among us."

Draco's eyes flashed to the potions master, questioning.

The black gaze that met his was unfathomable.

What was going on?  Why had Snape said anything?

Voldemort continued.  "Unfortunately, he does not know for certain who it is," at this, red eyes flickered over to eye the Crabbes and Goyles, "although he has his suspicions.  You must be wary of trusting anyone."

Draco did not respond to this, instead raising one perfectly shaped, platinum eyebrow.

Voldemort gave something vaguely approximating a laugh.

"But, of course, you never do, do you, young Malfoy?"  The tone was approving.

"You may go."

And with that, Voldemort turned back to the muggle, glee in his eyes.

Snape broke away from the group to follow Draco from the room.  When they were out, Draco turned on him.

"WHAT WAS THAT?  What did you think you were DOING?  A spy?"

Snape considered Draco with disapproval.

"Of course there has to be a spy, Malfoy.  There are always spies, Voldemort expects it.  And he expects me to tell him of them.  If I start the rumours, they are contained."

"So that is why he was eyeing Crabbe and Goyle?  Will they be the next 'spies'?"

Snape smiled.

It was not a happy smile.

"I was leaning in that direction.  Really, they have so few brains, the world would not miss either of them.  Plus, just think how flattered our Lord would be to think that the only followers Dumbledore can marshal are those too stupid to know any better."

Draco shot an approving look at Snape.  It was always useful to flatter Voldemort.  It made him (somewhat) more amenable, and certainly less paranoid.

It was a very important skill for any fake-Death-Eater-who-was-actually-spying-for-the-forces-of-good to have.

"Fine.  I leave the rumour-mongering in your hands, as you seem so fond of it.  At least it will divert attention away from both of us."

And with that, Draco turned on his heel and headed to Ginny, his robes swirling.

Snape wasn't telling him something.

She looked good in Slytherin colours.

There she was, staring avidly through the peep-hole, still clad in those ornate silk dress-robes, so involved that she did not even look up when he came into the room.  He had to tap her on the shoulder.

Even then, it took a second for her to turn away from the spectacle.  Apparently the first muggle had finally expired: there were now two, a woman and a little boy.  The boy was clutching the woman by the hand, his eyes wide and scared.

A family, Draco thought remotely, was dying today.

Ginny's eyes were filled with a strange excitement, and her smile was wild.

He led her from the room.

She was clearly ready to be initiated.

And it would certainly reflect well upon him in Voldemort's eyes.

Review!

Next chapter: Ginny's reaction to this experience.  Is she really dark, or just pretending?