DISCLAIMER: Characters not mine. See chapter 1 for more details.

NOTES: Thanks to Fearthainn and Liz, my betas and to all those who reviewed chapter one.

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Ginny stared unblinking at the knife in Draco's hand. For a split second she thought she could see her life flash in the steel of the blade. Was this where it all ended? She struggled so hard for so long to find him and this was her reward? If her brain had been functioning the words 'not fair' would've sprung to mind.

He pointed the knife toward, like it was an extension of his own arm. "Get out of here," he said again. She didn't hear him. She was busy contemplating how sharp the knife was. That point literally hung over her head. He only had to take two steps - maybe less - toward her and it would all be over. That was the power of the blade. She flinched involuntarily.

Sometimes when she was cooking and she'd have a near miss with the knife. Then it would occur to her that she could've hurt herself. She could've killed herself. That alternate reality would play out in her head, as if it really had happened. And she'd have to stop because she was shaking. It was those moments when she really know that she was mortal. That she was inches away from death at every moment. But she had never felt it like this before. Before it had been "I could've died" and now it was "I could die."

If there had ever been a time in her life where she really deserved to cry, this was it. But she didn't. She just stared at Malfoy mutely and he yelled at her and made wild gesticulations with his knife. He was very angry. Every second that she sat there, staring up at him, he got angrier. She was too dumbstruck to move.

And then, to Ginny's unending relief, he stopped. He didn't yell. He didn't wave his arms, and more importantly, he didn't wave the knife. In fact, he didn't move a muscle. For a moment she worried he had some kind of fit. What else could explain his sudden change in behavior? But it turned out to be just another event in the very long list of strange things that had happened that day.

When Ginny looked closer she noticed that he appeared to be listening for something. She couldn't fathom what it would be. Very little could be heard over the wind. And there wasn't exactly a lot going on in the tiny town. She imagined when someone slammed a door around these parts, it was a big deal.

All too soon, Ginny figured out what it was Draco was listening for. She blinked her eyes against the water in the wind. To her surprise, when she opened them again there were three women standing behind Draco. She gasped in astonishment. It was always a shock when people suddenly appeared, even to those wizards used to Apparating. And to top it off, she hadn't heard the 'pop' that normally accompanies Apparating. They had appeared without warning.

She felt very small in front of the women. Ginny had always been petite. People often mistook her for an adolescent. It made her feel three inches tall when they told her, which was exactly how she felt in front of these women. It wasn't just because they were above average height. It was that everything about them was above average. They were beautiful. One might even say perfect. It was to the point where it was unnerving. They just couldn't be natural.

They were like Veelas in many respects. They held themselves with an air of superiority and were undeniably attractive despite the danger. But these women were the opposite of Veelas in many ways as well. They had long, dark hair and snowy skin where Veelas were at the other end of the spectrum. The pitch black robes they wore seemed to move with them, like they were merely an extension of their bodies.

Draco looked on them with undisguised hatred. His whole body tensed as though he had been struck. It wasn't until the women turned to acknowledge Ginny that she understood his apprehension. It was their eyes. Perfect, full eye lashes framed nothing but a pure white retina. They had no pupils. Ginny doubted they could truly see anything with such eyes. Foolishly, she wondered if they were lost. Maybe she could help them find whatever it was they were looking for?

It was the menacing way they held themselves that kept Ginny quiet. She knew, in the back of her head, that they weren't human. Yet she couldn't think of any other creature they could possibly be. She had learned about a wide variety of species at Hogwarts and none of them were like this...

What happened next unfolded so quickly, Ginny didn't have time to do any further reflection. A split second after the women had appeared, Draco lunged forward at them, slashing horizontally with his knife. The women stepped back to avoid the blade, all the while they kept their white eyes locked on Draco, not betraying an ounce of fear. The four of them moved, Ginny thought, as if they were dancing not really fighting. Perhaps she just had difficulty accepting the fact that there was a knife fight happening right before her eyes or maybe it was because the four combatants had such a practiced air about them as if they all knew exactly what they were supposed to do.

One of the women grabbed Draco's knife arm with a claw-like hand and tried to pull him toward her. He introduced his elbow to her face. The woman didn't reel backwards or even flinch; she took the hit better than Ginny would've taken a bug flying into her face. She was, however, forced to let go of Draco's knife arm. He had always been quick and agile. Ginny remembered what a fine Seeker he had been for the Slytherin Quidditch team. With the same graceful movements he used to snatch the snitch out of the air, he whirled around and struck the one who had grabbed him again. This time he hit her hard enough to force her head to the side. He used this opportunity to bury his knife into the side of her neck with one even stroke.

The other women cried out in rage. They flew to their fallen sister's aid. Each grabbed one of Draco's arms and tried to pull him away from her. He kicked them each in the shins, knocking them off balance, and twisted free. He returned to the one he had stabbed as though nothing had happened. He continued to hack away at her neck until her head was severed from her body. Ginny watched, horrified, as pools of dark green blood poured from her veins. It smelled rather like the frog pond by the Burrow and confirmed Ginny's suspicions. They were not human.

As soon as the head was free from the body, Draco stood up. He watched, unmoved, as the corpse began to blur around the edges. Ginny felt her own eyes go wide. It turned into a misty substance and then just sank into the Earth as if she had never been there at all. The only testament to her existence was the enraged shrieks coming from her sisters and the way Draco continued to stare ominously at the spot she once occupied.

The remaining two women dove at Draco. Before they could grab him again, he turned, produced his wand from inside his robes, pointed it at the grassy ground in front of them and shouted, "Incendio!" all in one fluid motion. Immediately, large flames leapt face -high from the ground creating a barrier between Draco and the women. They hissed at him from behind the crackling flames. He gave them a stony glare in return. The light of the fire dances across his pointed face, creating a frightening mix of dark shadows and pale, white skin and hair.

Calmly, Draco placed his wand back in his pocket and held his knife in his outstretched hand, letting the two know that they were about to meet the same fate as the other one.

That they did. Draco pounced on them, making quick work of cutting their heads off. Ginny wasn't sure what was scarier: the two murderous females that gushed green blood or the fact that Draco knew exactly how to kill them, and, in fact, was very adept at it. It was all very disquieting.

Ginny hoped that there was some sort of rational explanation for the killing. Or at the very least she hoped she was very, very drunk and really passed out in her bed at the Academy. She whimpered, knowing that really wasn't plausible. She never drank. She certainly didn't drink enough to pass out. That meant that she really was witness to three brutal murders. And if that wasn't reason to get pissed, she didn't know what was.

She wished she had time to sit down and carefully think over everything that happened. Ginny rarely ventured out of her dorm at the Academy. She couldn't take this much excitement all at once. Her brain couldn't process it quick enough. Draco didn't want to sit though. He didn't want to talk, to explain, or even to let Ginny recover. He just wanted to get the heck out of there.

"Come on!" he shouted as he harshly grabbed her hand, painfully tugging her forward. "We have to get out of here!" He dragged her behind the ramshackle dwelling with such desperation she could almost convince herself he was worried about her, if she hadn't known better.

"Wha--? Where are we going?" she asked, her voice shaking nervously. It was the first time she had said anything since she had found him. He didn't turn around. He didn't even respond. Maybe he hadn't heard her small voice over the ringing in his ears or maybe he just didn't care.

He walked determinedly over to an empty stretch of grass that looked like it had once been a garden before it had been abandoned. He stood over it muttering to himself. Even when he had been waving a knife in front of her face, it hadn't crossed Ginny's mind that Draco might be truly crazy until that moment. She considered speaking up and telling him that there was nothing there but decided against it. The funny thing about crazy people was that they never believed you when you told them that they were crazy. Often they thought you were crazy. Ginny didn't think a "You are!"/ "No! You are!" argument would be in any way productive. And there was still that knife to think about.

Then, to her surprised, he once again took out his wand and waved it in the air reciting a spell that she didn't know. He brought the wand down with a flash of blue light. It wavered in the air for a moment and then grew bigger and brighter until Ginny had to cover her eyes. When she opened them again, there was a exceptionally large motorbike in the previously vacant space.

Instantly she recognized the bike. She had never actually seen it before but she had heard more than enough about it. "This is Sirius Black's motorbike!" she exclaimed then frowned when something else occurred to her. "You stole it!" she hissed accusingly.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "I needed it more than he did."

"Oh," Ginny said. She wished she hadn't after she had said it. It sounded stupid. Her mouth often went faster than her brain. She had so many other questions to ask and things to say and now he seemed to think she had accepted "I needed it more" as a viable explanation because he had mounted the motorbike, turning his back to her.

"Right then," he said as he started up the engine with a monstrous roar, "Get on."

Dumbly, Ginny complied. He didn't wait for her to give him any sign she was securely in place or at all comfortable. Rather he took off and full speed into the night air without saying another word to her. She watched the tiny house he had been in fade into a little grey speck on the ground and finally get swallowed up by the clouds so she couldn't see it anymore.

Ginny never enjoyed flying. She was scared of heights and, as a result, had never been a big fan of playing Quidditch. It was a game best enjoyed at a safe distance. And the motorbike flew much like a broomstick. Except the motorbike was bigger, it made a lot of strange noises and it felt like it was moving underneath her all the time. She didn't like it. She closed her eyes and wished for solid ground. Ground was nice. It was strong and flat. And, as far as Ginny knew, it never flew.

She yelped as Draco turned sharply to the left. She couldn't be sure, since there was wind rushing in her ears but she thought she heard him laugh. Great, he was laughing at her. He turned again and she was thrown to the side. Another thing she didn't like about the motorbike was that it proved very difficult to stay onboard. On a broomstick, you could at least cling to the handle for dear life. There was no place for her to hold onto on the bike. Draco took up the space in front of her and he didn't leave much clinging room.

Unless you considered holding onto Draco. Ginny really didn't want to do that. It would be awkward. For one thing they hadn't seen each other in years; five minutes ago he was brandishing a knife at her and, most importantly, they hated each other. They definitely weren't at the hugging stage of their relationship. But, on the other hand, if she didn't have anything to hold onto, she might fall off the bike and plummet to her death. While that would be less awkward, it would probably be more painful.

Ginny sighed. Cautiously, she reached out and placed her hands on his sides. It wasn't hugging, per se. It was more 'touching' really, 'holding' at the worst. It was good. It wasn't really awkward and there was less death involved. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. Then she opened them again after discovering she was hundreds of feet above the earth with only a man she didn't know, trust or even like. Relaxing was pretty much out of the question at this juncture.

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Ginny shut her eyes tightly as Draco dipped closer and closer to Earth. The rapid downward motion made her stomach rise into her mouth. He made no attempt to cushion their landing. She bounced around on the back of the bike and shouted, "oof!" He didn't bounce. He remained anchored like a stone in his seat.

He didn't say anything until the bike rolled to a halt. He killed the engine and stuck out his feet to keep the bike balanced. "Get off!" he barked before the roar of the motor had even died out.

Ginny recognized the landing place as an out of the way spot near the Academy. It would be quite a walk back to her dorm, all by herself, in the middle of the night, with no mode of transportation. This made her exceptionally nervous. She hesitated in getting off the motorbike. Draco didn't seem to care about any of that. He turned around in the seat to glare at her when she didn't move.

"Get off," he repeated more forcefully. He wished he had a door to slam on her. That was the only problem with motorbikes, there were no doors for slamming. Maybe he should've stolen the Weasley's Ford Anglia but somehow, being on the run in a Ford Anglia wasn't as cool.

"W-what were those things?" she stuttered.

He deflated, annoying that things weren't going the way he had planned. He hated it when things didn't go the way he planned because his plans were always better than everyone else's plans. "They're Alectos," he replied acidly, as though that answered everything, and if she didn't know what "Alectos" were then she was obviously mentally challenged in some way.

Ginny blinked, bewildered. "What are Alectos?" she asked.

Draco sighed again. The woman was stubborn as a mule! She wouldn't leave when he waved his knife at her. She wouldn't get off his motorbike when he said so. She didn't catch his superior tone and feel rightfully inferior. She simply wouldn't budge. What was wrong with her?

"Listen, I'd love to sit here all day and answer every little question you can dream up, but I'm busy. I've got magical assassins on my ass and you're just not my top priority right now," he glared. "Now, get off!" He waved his arms at her in a motion that could only be described as "shoo!"

But she didn't move. Ginny liked to know things. She hated to be in the dark because not knowing often lead to her making a fool of herself. So many questions were swirling around in her head, she just couldn't leave before they were answered. The confusion was greater than any fear she had of him.

"Magical assassins?" she repeated meekly.

He was becoming more and more frustrated with her. Again, he sighed. "Yes, magical assassins. Is there an echo in here?"

"Do they want to kill you?" she wondered, wide-eyed.

"No!" he shouted sarcastically, flailing his arms in the air, "they want to take me to tea, maybe buy me a new hat." He narrowed his eyes, hoping to intimidate her off the bike. "Do you know what the word 'assassin' means?"

"One who kills, or attempts to kill, by surprise or secret assault; one who treacherously murders any one unprepared for defense; a hired murderer," she quoted in a whisper. At times, Ginny was known to think out loud. She hadn't actually meant to repeat the dictionary definition to him.

"Think you're funny, do you?" he grumbled.

"Oh-- no," she stumbled, "I... I just..." She searched for an appropriate response but decided any further explanation would just dig her deeper into her hole. Instead, she thought it best to change the subject. "Why do they want to kill you?"

"Well, gee golly, why do you want to find me?"

"Because the Ministry needs to find you because you gave them information about You-Know--- oh." She blushed bright red. "You mean You-Know-Who sent them after you?"

"Knew you get there eventually," he drawled lazily. "Now will you leave?"

She didn't appear to hear that last bit because instead of getting off the motorbike she said, rather loudly: "But You-Know-Who is dead!"

"I know that. You know that. They don't know that." He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her as she processed this new information. Obviously she wasn't gone to leave that easily.

"Well then how do you get them to stop?" she asked, puzzled.

He rolled his eyes. "If I knew that, Weasley, then I'd be at home, wearing expensive robes and ordering my servants around, not sitting here with you, who will not leave no matter how many times you are asked."

"So you've been running from them all this time?"

He grinned, as if she had finally got the point. "I told you I needed the bike more than Black did."

Ginny made a sympathetic face. He scowled in return. He didn't want her pity. Being pitied by a Weasley was like Rita Skeeter saying you were nosy, as far as he was concerned. "Right then," he declared, turning back around to start the bike, "it's been fun. But now I really must be off. See, there'll be more of them soon and unless you want to play too then you should get off the bike and toddle back to your happy, but not doubt very dull, life."

"Why don't you just go to the Ministry for help? They could do something -- help you kill them. Or, at least, they could help keep you safe," she cried desperately. For some reason, she didn't want to let him fly off again. Not just because she would've failed her mission then but because she wasn't sure he'd be safe.

He whirled around to face her again, his face contorted with anger. She didn't understand why he would be so mad, all she had done was suggest ways to help him. "They can't help me," he hissed.

"Well there has to be some way to make them stop!"

"They're not going to stop until they have my head." There was a note of finality in his tone which Ginny didn't like. Had he given up? Why was he still fighting then? None of it made any sense.

"So you're going to do nothing? Just wait until they bring your head to You-Know-Who's dead corpse on a silver platter?"

She watched his reaction to her words. The anger receded behind his mask of arrogance as if he were embarrassed to have shown her anything. He yawned exaggeratedly. "That's pretty much it, except they won't bring my head to him on a silver platter. I'm no Saint."

Ginny heaved a great sigh. He was impossible, simply impossible. It was like talking to a brick wall, but brick walls weren't so damn condescending. Maybe he was more like an imposing, marble wall of some kind. The ones they put in libraries and mansions so you know you're supposed to be on your best behavior.

"At least let me--"

"No."

"But can't I--"

"No."

"I'll look them up in the library!" she all but shouted. "No one even has to know about it!"

"They're not in the library," he rubbed his head as though she were giving him a huge headache. "The Dark Lord made them with his above average evil genius abilities."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" this time he shouted. Then he quickly composed himself again. "My Father told me about them when I was younger. He was trying to create a monster that would locate and murder the Potters. Something that wouldn't stop until the job was done. Something that wouldn't show any mercy. But he didn't complete them before that night... And then when I went behind his back, he got angry and started work again."

"Oh..." Ginny whispered, suddenly wishing he'd be quiet but he wasn't finished.

"And this time he got it right. They won't go away until I'm dead. So now that they found me, I really must be going. I'd rather not make things easy for them." He started the bike up again, revving the engine several times so she'd get the picture.

Ginny stepped back away from the motorbike, tentatively. She wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't run her over if he had the chance. It was best not to gamble with her life that way. She had already met her near death experience quota for the day. Any further experiences and she'd edge Ron out in the "Weasley Who Nearly Died the Most" competition.

"I hope you don't think me terribly rude for not walking you back to your dorm!" he shouted at her over the din and winked. They both knew very well that he wouldn't have walked her back to her dorm even if he wasn't being followed by psycho stalkers.

And with that, he took off into the sky. It was quite odd to see a motorbike fly. Ginny had never thought about it before. She shielded her eyes from the street lights to watch him climb higher and higher into the air until he was gone. He never said good bye. He never even looked back at her. And Ginny couldn't help wishing he had. It wasn't just that she now faced the prospect of failing her mission entirely. But also because she was worried about him. She didn't know how he could possibly survive this type of assault for much longer. If only he'd let someone help him. Then maybe he'd have a chance.

Ginny sulked back along the road to her dorm. She kicked pebbles foolish enough to cross her path. What now? she wondered.

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