Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR and company. I am the owner of all that is different in this story.

why me

Draco never liked when the Dark Lord visited. He brought a cloud of helplessness with him wherever he went and he made the chambers reek of death and blood. It was worse than when his cantankerous grandfather was dying and the overweight mediwitch had stayed in the manor, smelling heavily of lavender perfume and saliva. But the Dark Lord's presence couldn't be explained without mentioning the glowing, red eyes set in the snakelike face that made Draco feel completely exposed. If there's one thing Draco never liked, it was the exposure of his emotions, and while the Dark Lord never found them, he kept probing and had an uncanny ability to sense his thoughts and to know things about Draco that he was sure his father would have never mentioned. The Dark Lord might never encounter his emotions, but Draco's thoughts seemed spread before him like a banquet of corpses before a vampire.

Draco did like Nagini, the snake that lay curled on the floor in front of the Dark Lord's chair, the firelight highlighting each separate scale majestically. He had no reason to like her, as she was often used to get rid of persons they no longer needed but perhaps that was the reason he liked her. She was a tool, just like he was.

The fire, the only light in the room except the glowing hand of the Dark Lord's servant, blazed brightly, lighting the books on the shelves that filled the room. The Dark Lord always insisted on sleeping in one of the studies. Draco's father had filled the shelves with books of a dark nature so that his master would always be entertained. A bed had been moved into the room – Draco recognized it to be the bed his grandfather had slept in until he died – and the green hangings (so dark they were nearly black) were closed, concealing the gruesomely carved headboard, filled with scenes of Goblin battles.

"Come closer boy…" the Dark Lord hissed and Draco obeyed, closing the heavy door behind him silently. The carpet muffled his steps and Draco could see a trail from the corner to the place that the over-stuffed armchair currently was, showing where Wormtail had dragged the chair for his master. The stench of death filled his nostrils as he approached the rotting corpse that was his master and he began to breath discretely through his mouth, sucking the air through his teeth.

"You called for me." Draco didn't bow like the other Death Eaters; a Malfoy should never bow before others. Draco remembered the first time he had met the Dark Lord, and refused to bow to him. His father had knelt respectfully before the Dark Lord, not prostrating himself before him like the others, but Draco had stood, looking the Dark Lord in the eye. After a moment, the Dark Lord had laughed and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder; the touch had nearly made him cringe. "The boy has more gumption than you ever had, Lucius…I won't say anything for common sense, but he has gumption…be careful, boy, who you show it to…" His father hadn't beaten him for being defiant; he had praised him for winning the Dark Lord's favor in such a splendid fashion. And ever since, he had been included in the Dark Lord's closest circle, complete with the reception of the Dark Mark. The mark was quite ugly, but he couldn't help the feeling of belonging whenever it burned black, summoning him.

"Leave us, Wormtail…" the Dark Lord ordered, waving his skeletal hand dismissively. His nails were slightly yellow in color, and torn at the tips and cuticles. The servant with the glowing hand left, a nearly silent whimper escaping as he heard the Dark Lord twist his old, schoolboy nickname in his mouth as if he were tasting a new wine. Draco stayed to the side of the chair; not wanting to look upon the Dark Lord unless he had to. The door shut with a small click behind the servant called Wormtail. "Boy…you have become a faithful servant in your own right…you have never disobeyed me…you have come up with your own clever embellishments to my plans…I recall your provoking Potter last year and taking away his flying privileges, an idea that was not of my conception…" It was the closest to a compliment Draco was ever going to receive.

"Thank you, master," he replied impassively.

"There's no need for that, boy…It is your accomplishments that has chosen you for this most imperative of tasks…you are already well situated for its execution…you possess the cunning required to convince…you are skilled enough to omit blunders…and you are most loyal…" The Dark Lord brought a hand to his chin and stroked the bony protrusion in thought. A few unshaved whiskers grew from it.

 "I am getting old, boy…I am not as able in body as I used to be; this body is of my making but is not my own…I know I cannot die but I feel the need to pass on my empire to someone whose body is their own…I need someone who will be completely loyal to myself with skills that rival my own…" Apprehension filled Draco.

"I would be honored, master."

"Don't interrupt me, boy."

"Forgive me, master."

"I am going to marry and you are going to bring my wife to me." Draco was relieved. He had thought the Dark Lord was going to give him control over all the Death Eaters, and he wasn't sure what he would do with it. Wisely, he kept silent, knowing that the Dark Lord would continue in his own time.

"I have already selected her…all you are required to do is bring her to me…and you will make her willing…I am the most powerful wizard in the world and I will no be refused…" Nagini uncurled on the rug and slithered over to Draco, wrapping twice around his ankle before sliding up his leg to the top of the chair.

"You will bring Ginny Weasley to me in one month…"

"As you wish." The Dark Lord's gnarled hand extended to stroke Nagini's head. She flicked her tongue at him in response.

"You may go…tell Wormtail that he may return…" Draco could see the Dark Lord caressing a dingy, black notebook with his other hand, his fingers stroking the dirty leather like it would stroke a buxom woman. The pages were warped and stained with ink and blood, but Draco didn't linger any longer. He left, controlling his steps so that he wouldn't walk too fast, to find Wormtail cowering by the door, muttering to himself. Draco was reminded of Kreacher, a house-elf that had come to serve them because he belonged to the Black family, which Narcissa was member of. Kreacher was old and insane (he kept muttering to himself) and seemed to refuse to die; he was much older than an ordinary house-elf. Draco had taken an instant dislike to Kreacher, perhaps because Kreacher would mutter his thoughts aloud, creating a hum of insults and praise wherever he went.

The hallways that led to his bedroom were filled with dark and gloom, while impassive portraits watched on the walls. The portraits were magical and so the inhabitants could move within them, they just chose not to, their only movement the eyes which followed him down the hallway.. Some were painted in happy backgrounds, but the inhabitants had long since stopped being gay and happy. A dark cloud had settled over the Malfoy family and the ancestors in the portraits, sensing this darkness, had become withdrawn, still, and silent. When he was younger, some of them would offer him a greeting, and a few dead aunts would fret over him from their gilded frames, but that had long since stopped. As he began to resemble his father more and more, they had acted more and more like he was his father. Sometimes he missed being a little boy.

He left his echoing footfalls when he stepped into his room, thankful that it was in an entirely different wing than the Dark Lord. Mother had furnished it for him, saying men had no taste for decoration. Thanks to her raising, he knew about matching colors, matching prints, and ballroom dancing. She had always wanted a daughter, and therefore had raised him in an effeminate manner his father had entirely disapproved of. Mother couldn't get with child again, he knew. He didn't know why, but she couldn't after him. Maybe that was why his father was so angry.

In the hearth, a fire crackled, warming the room. The red bed hangings were drawn back to show the red satin bedspread, monogrammed with a black and silver M.. Black roses were embroidered around the hems of the curtains, bedspread, and pillows, but when he lay down upon the bed, the embroidery felt soft and malleable, not stiff like one would think. Mother redecorated every month when the sheets were washed from sheer boredom. Last month, there had been royal purple curtains hanging from the ebony bed frame.

Sighing he threw himself backwards onto the bed, receiving an appreciated spring from the mattress. This was the most important mission he had been entrusted with. All of the others had been to simply annoy Potter or get him into trouble. Draco did that without being told to.

But kidnapping Ginny Weasley really wouldn't be hard. If he remembered correctly, she was a slight wisp of nothing with a shock of red hair. She had only retaliated twice directly to him, once in unforgettable embarrassment in Flourish and Blotts and the next when she had hexed him with the bat bogey hex (which he had convinced himself was an accident), but every year after the first she had skirted him in the hallways, her spirit broken by a memory preserved in a diary that she had unleashed. She was probably so afraid of herself and everyone else that she never talked. She would be easy to kidnap, he doubted she'd have the strength to fight him.

But of course convincing her to marry the Dark Lord and bear his children would be more difficult. He was the root of her spinelessness, the source of her fears, and who would want to encounter that once in their lives, never mind marry it? Well, he had a month. He'd think of something.

He leaped from the bed and stripped, not bothering to put on pajamas before climbing into bed. Usually he would sneak back into Hogwarts and sleep there but exhaustion and comfort had won him over. He'd apparate to Hogsmeade early tomorrow morning and sneak back into school before he was missed. Then he would worry about the Weasley girl.

Hidden within the satin bedding, he fell asleep thinking about red amongst the red.

~~~~~

Harry awoke with a start and sat up violently in his bed in Hogwarts. Through the hangings in the Gryfindor colors, the wind blew, chilling the sweat off of him as the remnants of his dream swam in and out of focus in his mind. Harry's scar pulsed with pain in his forehead and he brought his fingers up to it, his wet tips soothing the incessant ache. Voldemort was plotting to kidnap Ginny Weasley and he was sending his most trusted servant to do it. Harry didn't see the servant; only know that he was close to the Dark Lord. He had recognized the voice that only meant that Lucius Malfoy was being sent to kidnap Ginny. He hadn't heard any of the other Death Eaters speak more than a few words and this voice had been familiar, striking a note of contempt within him.

Ginny Weasley was going to be kidnapped.

He had to tell Dumbledore.

He threw back the covers, opened his trunk and pulled out his invisibility cloak. Pulling on and fastening the cloak as he walked, he hurried to the door. Ron grunted in his sleep and rolled onto his back. Harry hesitated in the doorway, wondering whether or not he should tell Ron. But Ron would probably just worry and be overprotective, making Ginny rebel against him and any protections Dumbledore tried to place on her. Ginny was too much like Ron, too much of a spitfire to follow directions, if she was nudged the wrong way. He admired that.

Abandoning Ron's right to know, he left Gryfindor tower and the Fat Lady that called in vain, trying desperately to discover the identity of the student who had left the tower. In his haste, he had forgotten to put on slippers and the stone floor felt like ice.

"Ice Mice!" Harry spoke the password to the gargoyle guarding the office, and it sprang out of the way. Ginny could already be in danger. They had to protect her. The spiral staircase seemed to be rising too slowly but when Harry reached the top, he stopped in front of the door. He didn't know where Dumbledore slept but he was almost certain that it was not in his office. Luckily, Dumbledore saved him from figuring out what to do.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, making Harry jump in surprise, "It's a bit late for a stroll." He was wearing the same, purple robe Harry had seen him wear the last time he had come to the Headmaster in the middle of the night.

"Yes, Professor, but I've had a dream that I think you should know about."

"Perhaps we should step into my office." Dumbledore opened the door and Harry followed him inside. All of the paintings were asleep (one on the right was snoring) and Fawkes was perched with his head under his wing. With a wave of his wand, a bright pink fire lit in the grate. "Pull up a chair, Harry. Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

"I had a dream about Voldemort." Harry explained the dream and when he was done, Dumbledore was silent for a moment before speaking.

"So you want Ginny to be put under extra protection."

"If it's possible."

"Ginny is safe while within the castle. I will have someone follow her while she is in Hogsmeade."

"Is that all you can do?"

"I am afraid it is, Harry. I will put the paintings and ghosts on alert, of course, but the castle is very well fortified. Now, I think you'll be needing some sleep."
            "But…good night, Professor."

"Good night, Harry."

Harry left feeling as though he should be relieved.

~~~~~

The snow crunched beneath his feet as he made his way to his broomstick, which he had transfigured into a tree. He covered his tracks with magical snow before turning his broomstick back to its natural state. As he flew over the winter wonderland that was Hogwarts in December, he fought to keep the cloak closed around him. It was still dark out but he didn't want to risk being caught.

The double doors leading to Hogwarts were heavy and hard to open while holding a broomstick in one nearly frozen hand, but he managed to make it to the Slytherin Common Room without being caught or knocking anything over; the halls were sparsely lit with torches, charmed to light when someone walked by. He stopped at his dormitory room to drop off his broomstick and invisibility cloak before grabbing some homework to do in the common room; the rest of his room mates were still sleeping, their snores making unharmonious music that grated Draco's ears. Settling down in his favorite chair, he began to work. It was unusual for him to leave his homework until the last minute but he had been called away very suddenly the night before and hadn't had time to finish his Charms essay.

The fire burnt low in the Common Room, but he didn't mind the cold; Malfoy Manor wasn't properly heated because his father thought that to show feeling and disturbance by cold was a weakness. Hell any expression of emotion was a weakness.

Draco had finished everything but the conclusion by the time the next person had come down from the dormitories. It was a second year, rubbing his eyes and looking woefully at the small fire.

"Toss another log on," Draco commanded without looking up from his essay. The second year jumped, obviously startled, before doing as he was told. Draco smirked. He was never that malleable when he was in his second year. That was the first year he had seen Ginny Weasley. In Flourish and Blotts, she had stood up to him on Potter's behalf, protecting her little obsession. He remembered her standing there, covered from head to toe in soot from traveling by Floo. Malfoys were above Floo Powder; they had their own, personal Portkey.

He dotted a period at the end of the last sentence and laid the essay out on the table to dry. The sun was climbing in the sky and he went to wake Crabbe and Goyle. They looked like lumps hidden beneath the covers. Prowling the room, he searched for an object to wake them up with. One time he had shoved ice mice up their nostrils and their nose hairs had shivered all morning, causing them to sneeze. That had been one of his more ingenious ideas but nothing seemed to strike his imagination and so he set off one of Dr. Fillibuster's Fabulous Waterproof No-Heat Fireworks, an old trick. They jerked awake at the sound of the first explosion as Draco sat in one of the wooden desk chairs, watching in amusement. It was always worth it to wake Crabbe and Goyle in a highly inventive manner, as they would first panic and then get groggily out of bed, sometimes stumbling stupidly on their slippers (Draco observed with delight that Crabbe had not yet noticed that Draco had charmed his to be fluffy and pink).

They took an unusually long time to get out of the room as they tried to shake off the after-affects of sleep and Draco decided to go down to the Great Hall alone. The tables were half-full by the time he had reached the Great Hall, and he sat down beside Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. After he had piled food onto his plate, he scanned the Gryfindor table for Ginny and found her, sitting and talking with Potter, Granger, and Weasley. Suddenly, the three bent into a whispering huddle and she turned to talk to Longbottom on her right. He smirked at her exclusion, but noticed that she didn't seem to mind. He knew he was envious of the bond those three shared because they trusted each other so much and Draco had never trusted anyone in his life. In fact, Ginny seemed quite popular. A few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws greeted her as they found their seats. He did notice that she didn't pause to talk with anyone for very long, moving from conversation to conversation. As he watched, he noticed the number of eyes that watched her, following her every action. She was going to be missed when disappeared.

And then he focused his attention on Ginny herself. She was attractive, in a red-haired, freckled way. She was the girl next door who had been your best mate for ages, until she grew breasts and you noticed. But she wasn't his type. She was too skinny, too short, too freckled, too well loved, too nice, too Weasley for him to take a liking to her. He saw a black boy from Gryfindor enter, with Finnegan at his side, and kiss her cheek before sitting a few seats down. So she had a boyfriend too. What if she cared for him? He'd not only have to convince her to not like Dean but to be willing to copulate with the Dark Lord. This was going to be even more impossible than he had previously thought.

She rose from the table, saying a smiled farewell. His eggs and bacon now gone from his plate, he felt no need to remain at the Slytherin table. Without saying anything, he rose and followed her.

She hummed as she walked through the empty hallways and he followed, an appropriate distance behind. Hearing him, she looked over her shoulder at him as she walked. Not liking what she saw, she sped up. He didn't want to raise her suspicions and so he turned down the next hallway and returned to the Slytherin Common Room. Crabbe and Goyle had already left and so he picked up his bag and returned to the Great Hall to join them. He arrived right in the middle of the owl post and his barn owl, which had been circling the Slytherin table in search of him, stopped and swooped down. Draco held out his arm for her to land on and walked to the table before untying the scroll from her leg. She flew off, her mission completed, and Draco read his scroll.

Draco,

Bring the girl to the manor tonight. I will send news of your mother's illness to Dumbledore. You will have the month to convince her.

It was unsigned but Draco knew who it was from. His father had been informed and the Dark Lord was using a faked illness of his mother's to get him out of school for a month. And Ginny would disappear with him. He would have to capture her tonight.

~~~~~

Meet me tonight in the Astronomy Tower at ten o'clock.

Really, Dean was sweet sometimes, but this was a bit dangerous.

Ginny ran her fingers through her hair. She didn't want to seem too obvious with her make-up and had left with just eye-liner and lip gloss. She knew the lip gloss would come off during their snog but it was Dean's favorite flavor: strawberry.

The Fat Lady was asleep when she slipped out of the Common Room and made her way through the now-dark halls of Hogwarts to the Astronomy Tower. It was infamous as the place where couples went to snog and Ginny and Dean had taken advantage of it many times in the past. After all, Ron would kill Dean if he caught Dean and her snogging, even if Dean was her boyfriend.

It wasn't that she didn't like Dean, she just wasn't head-over-heels in love with him. She wanted to be – he was such a great guy – he was just so…well, he reminded her a bit of Ron: he was interested in quidditch and breasts. Not that she was a hopeless romantic, she just wished that all their conversations didn't revolve around quidditch and then end up in an argument over some muggle sport called football being better or worse than quidditch. And then to appease him she'd let him touch her boobs and then they'd be right where they'd began, with their tongues in each other's mouths.

She sighed as she entered the observation room. It was empty and she took off her cloak and spread it on the ground for them to snog on. Beneath it she wore a lavender silk negligee Dean had bought her for her birthday. He was a very hopeful boy, even if she'd never let him actually have sex with her. There had been some times when she was just so fed up with being a virgin she had almost let him, until her mother's reprimanding voice swam into mind and she gave up on the notion entirely. Besides, she wanted her first time to be with someone special, not just with Dean because she was fed up with being a virgin.

She felt cold without her cloak on but knew Dean would be there soon to warm her up. The negligee barely concealed her body. Really, the taste that boys had…or rather the lack thereof.

Draco thought his heart had stopped beating when she took off her cloak. He stood, hidden under the invisibility cloak a mere meter away from her, feeling frozen to the spot. The thing, though floor length, was practically transparent and she wore nothing but a matching thong beneath it. Blood flooded his nether regions and he struggled to control his breathing. He had never seen so much of a girl before. He wasn't allowed any dirty magazines and to have a sexual relationship while unmarried was looked down upon. Looking away and regaining some of his sanity, he put her under the full body bind.

Stealthily, he walked towards her, listening to her muffled protests. She could hear him drawing closer and closer and he lifted wrapped the cloak around her, hiding her nearly exposed self from view. He lifted her, noting that it was extremely awkward to carry something that heavy in a vertical position for too long and that it fueled his arousal to touch her, knowing she wore so little underneath. Sighing he released from the body bind, with the intention of putting a silencing charm on her but she was too quick and darted out of the way of his spell with a scream. He stunned her as she ran and she toppled over, unable to catch herself from falling. He picked her up again.

"All I'm going to do –" he began, but a scuffle in the hallway interrupted him and he carried her quickly to the wall and covered her with him beneath the cloak. Over his shoulder, he watched Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, enter the room, searching for whoever screamed. Beside him he felt the stun wear off and he caught her legs and arms, pinning them to the wall. Mrs. Norris drew nearer and Ginny's mouth opened; she was going to scream again. In the split second he had to decide what to do and ended up making a very rash decision.

Forcefully he pressed his mouth to hers, filling her mouth with his tongue.

Draco did it because he didn't know how else to stop her with his hands already occupied and Mrs. Norris so close that she would hear any incantation he whispered. He didn't expect her to taste like strawberries, or for her to respond to him. He didn't expect to press his body to hers and have her press back. He didn't expect for her tongue to wind around his, drawing him in and out of her mouth and guiding him in exploration. He didn't expect her to suck on his tongue, making him think of her sucking the place no one but himself had touched in a remotely sexual manner. He didn't expect to loose his grip on her wrists because the kiss had overwhelmed him and he didn't want to stop kissing her and he never wanted to forget how she tasted like strawberries and how her lips were so soft and how her tongue was working magic he'd never experienced from a kiss before.

He also didn't expect it when her hand collided with the side of his face.

He didn't jump back, worried that Mrs. Norris had heard and was coming to investigate, but he couldn't help feeling anger that she'd smacked him and was now trying to push him off her. Mrs. Norris now gone, he put her under the full body bind and carried her to his broomstick, which he had hidden in a corner of the room.

It was awkward carrying her like he was and finding he couldn't conceal her beneath the cloak, he flew over the forest, even though he was afraid of the creatures that lived found within it. He'd drop her off at the manor and fly back before morning when he would officially leave for the manor.

As the wind whipped around him, he wondered if convincing Ginny would involve any more kisses.

~~~~~

Ah, poor Draco and his sexual frustration. Well, that's the first chappie; I hope you found it to be worth your time. Reviews are much appreciated because they make me giggle like the school girl that I am.