I Don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own Ginny or Ron or Hermione or anyone else who decides to appear in this delightful little story of mine….
Although, I would like to own Draco. Very very much. Oh, and I'm not making any money out of this, sad though that may be.
Serpentis Proditonis
Chapter 2
"Oh, Merlin, it can't be," Harry sighed, resting his head in his hands. Opposite him sat his superior, Marcel Neggins, the Chief Auror. A piece of parchment rested on the table between them, a few lines written in an elegant hand followed by a strange stamp. Voldemorts own sign- and it was glowing.
"Harry, I realise how difficult this must be, but we have got to take into account how authentic this is. The details, the name, the mark…
"The Dark Lords name is not common knowledge, Miss Weasleys involvement with Him in her third year was hardly broadcast in its entirety, and the Dark Mark," he sighed. "There are few wizards that do not follow Him who would dare to conjure that, let alone imprint it onto a letter meant for the ministry. We have to treat this as a genuine threat, Harry."
"I realise that, sir. But it's so, so obscene. Why go after Ginny? Why tell us and not make any demands? I don't understand. If He's going to-" Harry paused and swallowed. "If he's going to kill her, why tell us? In the past he's just, well, done it. And if he isn't, why aren't there any demands, any threats?"
Marcel Neggins sighed and re-folded the parchment, slipping it into a plain white envelope. "I don't know, Harry. You-Know-Who's your area of expertise, and Ginny was, I mean, is your girlfriend. See if you can figure anything out from this, and I'll see you tomorrow. We'll figure out what to do then." He handed the envelope across the table. "And Harry? No one's told the Weasleys yet…"
"I'll do it, sir. Goodbye."
It wasn't until he'd left the building and wandered along a few barely noticed streets that Harry opened the letter and re-read the parchment within.
Mr. Potter,
Ginny Weasley is visiting an old friend from school- I'm sure you'll remember Tom? Ever since her third year he's been… pining… for a reunion, and Nagini's missed her playmate.
Farewell.
And there, below the script, a Skull adorned with serpents. The Dark Lords mark.
----
She woke up and he was in the room again, standing at the end of the bed and staring at the wall opposite her. So still and cold, a statue guarding. But this one wasn't guarding her. It was keeping her for its master. She shivered.
"How long was I asleep?"
He turned and spoke. "Who knows, Weasley. Time means little, here. A day, a month, a year. Who knows."
She sat up, the pain she had felt earlier only lingering in aching muscles and a slight headache, and watched as he conjured another chair and lamp with his wand. She grinned. The prat had brought his wand! All she had to do was get it, and then-
"Happy, Weasley? I wouldn't have thought you were that eager to see Him after the chamber." He paused, as if in thought. "Then again, I suppose the Chamber could be exactly why you're so looking forward to this little reunion."
She snarled. "Shut up, ferret. I was simply imagining a ball of white fur bouncing off the walls."
"So sad, the little Weasley doesn't even have an original taunt."
"Well, yours was hardly anything to be proud of."
"Oh? But surely all those noble Gryffindors didn't think such naughty things!"
She opened her mouth to reply and huffed. "Go away, Malfoy."
"No, Weasley. I'm not allowed."
"Oh? A Malfoy left to be a Weasleys keeper? I'm surprised you haven't killed yourself yet. Imagine the dishonour, Malfoy. Taking orders and delegated babysitting duty."
He snarled and sat down. "At least you've finally accepted-"
He was cut off as she launched herself at him from the bed. Taken by surprise, he raised his hands and leant back, the chair tipping over as her weight was added to pile.
"Weasley, what the Hell do you think you're doing?" It was muffled, but understandable. Ginny grabbed something long and thin from his sleeve and yanked, smiling victoriously. "I'm getting this Malfoy. Now shut up and stay there." She disentangled herself from chair and limbs, wand held in front of her. A sigh was her only reaction as Draco closed his eyes and lay back on the floor.
"Now, how do I get out of here?" She demanded, eyes bright.
"You open the door and walk, I'd imagine."
"I mean how do I get-"
"I know what you mean. And I can't answer that."
"You mean you won't answer that," she snarled. "Tell me now, Malfoy, or by Circe I swear I'll make you wish you'd never been born."
"An empty threat, and one that's already been fulfilled, I can assure you. As for how to get out of here, I can't tell you. Why, you ask? Because you can't get out of here."
"You're lying. You know how to get out of… wherever we are. It has a front door, doesn't it?"
"Indeed. But after the door, Weasley, is time." He paused. "Perhaps you'd like to know that someone's coming. Down the hall."
"Now?"
"Yes Weasley, Now." He smirked, obviously delighted at her lack of success.
The knock at the door wasn't long in coming, and Ginny cursed. She looked around frantically and, finding nothing terribly inspiring, turned back to Draco.
"Help me."
"Yeah, sure. I mean, why not? I'm only your enemy, really."
"Oh for the love of anything!" She pointed the wand at her throat. "I really hope this works. Audeo Draco!"
A voice came from beyond the wall.
"Draco? That you?" The voice was familiar, and she turned to Draco, still sprawled on the floor. He rolled his eyes and mouthed "Crabbe."
Ginny nodded.
"Um, yes." She grinned, satisfied. Her voice was an almost perfect imitation of Malfoy's. "What do you want?" She added, a hint of impatience in her, well, Malfoy's voice.
"I got the food. For the Weasel."
"Just… leave it by the door."
"But-"
"Leave it by the door!"
"Okay, okay." There was shuffling and a dull thump as something was put on the floor, accompanied by mumbled grumbling. Footsteps and muffled laughter drifted down the hall.
Ginny crept over to the door and twisted the handle slowly. She heard a click and pulled. The door wouldn't budge. Trying again, she pushed, pulled and jiggled. Still, the door remained closed.
"What is wrong with it!" She kicked the wall and pouted. Then frowned. There was something strange about the silence. "Malfoy? Hey, Malfoy!" She walked back over to him. "Hello? Malfoy?"
"Go away Weasley," he muttered and rolled over onto his side, curling into a foetal position. He sighed softly and murmured. Ginny's frown became puzzled. Shuffling closer, with the wand tucked safely in her back pocket, she poked him in the shoulder. He squirmed and huffed before returning to his previous position. She reached out again and shook his shoulder. "What's wrong? Did you hit your head or something?"
She leant back and bit her lip. Finally growing impatient she sighed and leant over his shoulder. "Look, Malfoy, I know you're not asleep so would you please just stop pretending and tell me how to get out of here?"
He moved quickly. Before she thought to move away his arm was around her waist and she was being pulled over his hip and onto the ground. She landed beside him and gave an undignified yelp.
"What are doing?!" She struggled to sit up but his arms encircled her and brought her down next to him.
"I'm getting my wand back. Sit still so I can reach it… or do you want my hands all over your backside?"
Ginny remembered to breathe. "This isn't fair."
"There's no such thing as 'fair', Weasley," He said as he withdrew his wand. "Now. It's your turn sit down and shut up, while I go and get your food. Though why I should I don't know."
He walked over to the door as she sat against the wall, eyes closed and frowning. Getting out of here was obviously going to be a lot harder than she'd thought it'd be.
She opened her eyes just as the door was closed and Malfoy carried a tray over to her.
"How come the door worked for you?"
He sighed. "Because I'm a Death Eater, I'm pure evil and they're not trying to keep me in here. You're a prisoner Weasley. Generally the doors are locked."
Ginny blushed. "Oh."
"Here. Eat and sleep, He'll want to see you soon."
Ginny nodded, she didn't need to ask who 'He' was. Tom. It had been six years, but her memories of the Chamber were still vivid and fresh.
She sighed. Suddenly she wasn't hungry.