…---…---…---…---…

The darkness is playing in the night
The shadows are dancing around
I'm in the middle - alone
Listening to the cold singing
A tune that chills to the bone

I'm waiting - have been for a long time
Hear a noise - the dinner chime
Save me from the demons
Save me from the dark
I need you here - I'm waiting
Please bring that tiny spark

I'm waiting
For you - I'm waiting
For you to come and save me
And take me home tonight
I'm waiting
For you and the light
It is so dark - so dark I can't see
Where are you?
I'm waiting - come save me

I'm waiting
My hero - come take me home
I don't like it here in the dark
I'm waiting - I don't want to be alone

The darkness is playing a dangerous game
And the shadows want me to dance
Dance to the song of the cold
I'm waiting - this is your last chance
Before I sink into the ache of a broken heart
And play dark's dangerous art

I'm waiting
Come get me now
Don't ask how
Just come for me
I'm waiting
Come closer - you will see
I'm waiting
In that dark
I'm waiting
I'm waiting

I'm Waiting – DW (Me!)

…---…---…---…---…

Chapter 31 –

Watching Shadows in the Dark

…---…---…---…---…

The night was opening up into a deep roan; the salt and pepper stars twinkled down. Clueless. The damp grass crunched beneath his feet as he stalked through the dark, his shadow stretching across the lawn in a mock imitation of himself. He wrapped the cloak tighter around his thin body, attempting to keep out the cool air that lingered about his body. His feet left the grass, stepping onto the hard concrete of a London footpath. His footsteps reverberated in the dark, matching the steady rhythm of his heart as it thumped in his chest. The concrete was cracked in places, with tufts of grass poking through, and a silly tune rang through his mind that he had heard immature muggles singing earlier that day.

'Don't step on a crack, or you'll break your mother's back'. As he walked, he stepped squarely on a lopsided piece of stone that had been split down the middle. A grim smile slid across his lips. Too bad my mother is already dead, he thought darkly as he continued his midnight mission. Night, the perfect time. There was nobody to watch him, nobody to judge the things he did or the thoughts that entered his head. There was nobody, only himself. Perfect.

But tonight was different. Over the last few weeks since Ginny Weasley had been taken, there had been no call from the Dark Lord. There had been no summons for his Death Eaters. There had been nothing but a lingering sense of dread that something was about to happen. It made a thick, sickly slime settle at the bottom of his stomach that did not equal anything good.

Why hadn't there been any Meetings called? Wouldn't the Dark Lord want to gloat about his capture of the Weasley girl? Wouldn't he want the world to know that he had outwitted the Order of the Phoenix and Harry Potter? He would want everybody to know. Then why hadn't he made any moves? Why hadn't he called for the Death Eaters?

A low growl began in his throat and he hissed into the night. So many questions and no answers. None. Why didn't he know? He was meant to know. That was his job. As spy, he was meant to gather important information that only he was privileged to and relay it to the Order. That had always been the way. So why was he headed to a Phoenix Meeting when he didn't have any facts to give them?

He turned at a corner that had a slanting and spotted street sign hanging from a post. Grimmauld Place. Back to the home of his old, long-dead enemy. The last and only place he wanted to go. As he walked down the deserted street, with his feet tapping on the cracked road and a biting wind teasing the end of his robes, Severus Snape sighed.

War was upon them, harder and bolder than ever before. People were beginning to panic as they woke up each morning with more news of death and destruction. They were afraid that it was indeed Voldemort back from the dead, seeking revenge on those that helped his downfall in the First and Second Wars. News had gotten out of Ginny Weasley's capture, and that she was with Harry Potter. For everyone new that Harry Potter was the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and defeater of You-Know-Who. Why would a new Dark Lord target Harry Potter and his loved ones if it was not Voldemort himself? Nearly all know of, or had heard about, the prophecy tying the two of them together. Everyone had thought the prophecy was over, since Voldemort had been destroyed.

Rumours had started that the prophecy had not been fulfilled – that Voldemort was, indeed, still alive. "Stupid, flaming morons…" Severus Snape cursed as he stalked even quicker down the street. Voldemort was not alive. Nor would he ever again be alive. It was not possible. There was no way in all the seven hells that he could come back to life. There was no way. It was impossible.

He desperately hoped that it was not possible. It was not the ridiculousness of the rumours that made him stand on edge. It was the indecisiveness of the rumours that frightened him.

In all matter of speech, he was scared.

He was scared that Voldemort was still alive; that the rumours floating around were true. If they were, it would mean that his nightmares were to come alive. His life, all that he fought to stop, would come back. What were the chances that Harry Potter could stop him again? He had done it twice already, would he be three times lucky?

Don't be stupid, Voldemort is no more, he thought savagely, although even in his minds voice, he could hear the quaver of fear. Finally, he reached the part in the walls, and as he watched, another house pushed it's way between them. The steps, now worn and spotted with age, were still hard beneath his feet as he ascended. The front door stood in front of him, the paint cracked and peeling, and the serpentine knocker now blackened with grime. He stood staring at it for the longest time, listening to the whispers of the wind behind him and knowing the moon was above him somewhere. Watching – forever watching.

He knocked twice and waited with a writhing heart.

…---…---…---…---…

A knock resounded through the ancient house. Remus offered to go answer it, and when no one bothered respond, he left with a bowed head. The kitchen was mostly deserted, containing only a few remaining Order Members. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at one side of the table, staring at scattered pieces of parchment with notes scrawled on them in black ink. Opposite them were Fred and George, as well as Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. Each of them was talking in quiet tones, pained eyes scanning the paper with troubled frowns, and tired voices bordering defeat. They were the last of the last, the remaining ones who had not given up. They still carried the small piece of hope that Ginny was alive and fine. That they would get her back.

But, even their own voices were starting to sound trounced. "Can you think of any more places that he could be keeping her?" Hermione asked tiredly, picking up a piece of parchment that had many names crossed out with new ones written above them. Harry ran a hand through his oily hair, staring unfocused at his friend.

"Not really…"

"Well, we've got Azkaban –" she started.

"I've checked there and there isn't any sign of secret lairs or Dark Lord Chambers," Ron said drearily as Hermione crossed something out on her parchment.

"Well, we've checked the Dark Forests in France, Russia and Britain, and there haven't been any signs of human life apart from the odd hunter. We've been keeping in touch with the French and Russian Ministry, who are having Aurors search any suspicious locations that may be a hide-out for Death Eaters. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are under constant surveillance, for both protection and interrogation. Some older students in Durmstrang have been suspected of Death Eater activity and are tabbed constantly. If anything happens in other countries, we will know," Hermione stated with a nod, watching Harry strain a smile. Footsteps on the stairs drew their attention and they watched as Remus returned, followed by Severus Snape. The old potion's master paused at the bottom of the stairs, his dark eyes scanning the room with sudden fury.

"I had reason to believe, that when I was called, it would be for an Order Meeting," Snape said, raising a lip. Harry stood and nodded quickly.

"This is a meeting; I called you," he said as Ron's eyes flashed at him in confusion and suspicion. Snape narrowed his eyelids and glared at Harry.

"And why did you call me, when this is, obviously, not a meeting?"

"It is a meeting; we are the last members who haven't given up," Harry said challengingly, as Snape's eyes clouded in sudden alarm.

"The last?" he said in barely a whisper.

Harry nodded sternly. "Everyone else has given up."

"And you haven't?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry stood his ground and looked directly into his ex-professor's fathomless eyes.

"No. And I won't," he said, and even as he heard it, Severus believed him. Damn the boy's defiance. "But, the question is, will you?" Harry saw Snape's gaze falter and his normally emotionless face flashed in a brief, unknown emotion.

"Have I ever?" he said as venomously as he could. A steely glint appeared in Harry's eyes, that Severus knew all-to-well.

"Good," Harry said. "Because we need your help."

…---…---…---…---…

The stone was cold against her aching back; it relieved some of the pain that plagued her almost broken body. She wished she could just give up, close her eyes, and drift into the land of slumber. Once there, she could forget about everything – war, the Dark Lord, Harry…

She didn't know how long she had been here – days, weeks, years – all she knew was that Harry would come. She knew he would. He always did. He would come and save her by defeating the Dark Lord like he had done Voldemort. He would come to the rescue. Harry. Her Harry. Her hero.

Her head snapped up as low thumps vibrated through the floor. Someone was coming. She backed up against the wall, pulling herself to her feet, grinding her teeth through the pain. Her hand rested on her tender stomach which had expanded even more since she had been here. Her clothes hung from her body in tatted rags, barely covering her flesh or providing the warmth she so desperately needed. As the footsteps approached her door, she placed her head higher, steeling herself for the person bound to come through the door. Please let it be Harry, she thought frantically. Please let it be Harry…

It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

And she had brought company.

"Hello, Gin-Gin, how are you?" the wasted woman asked with no amount of sincerity in her rough voice. Ginny snarled at her in response. Bellatrix laughed. "Oh, I see, the same as yesterday, that's good," she said cheerfully, her dark eyes glinting in humour. "Well, you know the drill, up and at 'em!" Ginny stood still, glaring defiantly at the woman and man who had come to escort her to the 'master'. Lestrange sighed. "If you don't play nice, you won't play at all."

"Let's just get her and go," the surly man in the doorway said with a note of anticipation in his voice. Ginny locked eyes with his through the mask he was wearing, knowing those muddy-brown orbs from her school days.

"Crabbe," she spat in distaste. "What? Don't want to disappoint you master?" In three quick strides, Vincent Crabbe had scaled the floor and hit her hard across the face. The power of the hit pushed her to the ground, where she spat up the blood that had entered her mouth. Ginny looked up as Bellatrix laughed, patting Crabbe on the back as she would do a loyal dog.

"Maybe you should learn to keep such remarks to yourself, and then we wouldn't be tempted to aim a little lower next time," Lestrange said, giving Ginny's stomach a suggestive look. Ginny scrambled to her feet, backing away to the wall with an animalistic growl. Lestrange smiled, playing with a wand in her long, scarred fingers. Her nails, once preened in perfect condition, were now chipped, stained and some were even missing. The wand was pointed at her with a quick flick. "Care to join the master for dinner?" Bellatrix asked casually, inspecting the fingernails on her free hand.

"I would rather die," Ginny snarled savagely.

"Oh, that's good news, because he would like you to join him for dinner!" she said and before Ginny could react, Bellatrix continued with, "Imperio!" Ginny was led from the stone room, down a stone corridor bordered with spiky vines, and up a staircase that was set at a sharp angle. Scarlet light broke through a roofed window as they reached the higher levels, where Death Eaters patrolled regularly. Ginny, under the control of Bellatrix, was unable to look out the windows for any visible sign of where they were. Her eyes, however, strayed to the top of the staircase that led to the floor above, where a small man was standing nervously, his hands shaking as he fumbled with the end of his shirt. As they ascended the stairs, Ginny shot daggers at the rat of a man, watching in triumph as the wizard quivered. Peter Pettigrew turned and walked quickly down the hall, more than likely to report to his master that Ginny was on her way.

Bellatrix shoved her wand into Ginny' back, demanding her to keep moving. She was trying to fight the Imperius Curse remembering what Harry had said about it. Walk forward, a voice told her. No, she told it back, demanding her feet to stop. It didn't work, so she was taken down the hallway, following a well trod path through the dust, dirt and vines to a pair of double-doors at the end of the hall. Ginny was dreading going through those doors – the same doors she went through each night to eat dinner with the Dark Lord. But no matter how hard she fought the curse controlling her body, she was unable to break through it as she was carried to the doors and through them.

The chamber beyond was vast but only a shadow of its former glory. The floor was a rich cherry wood, cleaned to a shine apart from its share of deep scratches. The ceiling was high, painted with fading pictures of naked angels and flowers, arranged in a peaceful circle around a dusty chandelier in the centre of the ceiling; cobwebs hung from it. In the middle of the room was a long, table with matching high backed chairs that were pillowed with deep green and silver cushions. Upon the table were a large assortment of different foods, from roast meats and vegetables, to soups and bread, fruit and salads. Ginny was led to the seat beside the head of the table and directed to sit down. Once she was seated, Lestrange removed the curse, giving Ginny a broad smile that showed off her yellowing teeth.

"Welcome, my dear," an aristocratic voice announced as the host entered the room from a side chamber. Ginny closed her eyes, wishing she didn't have to look at him. His face brought bad memories from when she was young. There were footsteps; she wasn't sure if it was another Death Eater or him. "Won't you look at me, sweet?" His voice, so haunted, sounded in her ear. She could feel his warm breath on her neck and she swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat.

"Not if I can help it," she retorted, turning her head away from his, her eyes still shut. She could hear his soft chuckle as his walked around her to his seat at the head of the table, and the soft crunch of the cushion as he sat down.

"Why not?" he asked after a while.

"You know why not," Ginny said savagely.

"Face me – look at me," he said and Ginny felt invisible hands grasp her chin, turning it to where the Dark Lord was sitting. She kept her eyes closed; fighting the fingers that tried to prise them open. But there was no fighting that which was not there. Her eyelids were pulled open and she was forced to stare at the Dark Lord – the man she hated so.

He smiled at her, showing off sparkling white teeth. His skin, so fair, was pulled over high cheekbones which gave him an arrogance that the Malfoy's were so well known for. He looked at her with icy blue eyes that cut into her unprotected mind like swords.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he said smoothly, lowering his hand which had directed the actions of moving her face. She glared at him, still held by invisible bonds and forced to look at him with a hateful gaze.

"No, it wasn't, though why anyone would want to look at you is beyond me," she answered fiercely. She was immediately hit across the face by Bellatrix who had been standing guard behind her. Ginny gasped, raising a hand to her lip which had split. Bellatrix was about to hit her again when the Dark Lord raised a hand to stop her.

"No, Bella, our guest does not require a physical hand to teach her lessons. But a mental caress, however, should do the trick," the man said with a smirk and deathly, dancing eyes. Ginny gulped, knowing what was to come. She steeled herself for the alien hands that reached into her mind, playing with her thoughts, emotions, memories…

.-.-.

She was at Harry's party. She laughed at something Fred had just said, looking around the crowd, searching for one man in particular…

She was lying on her bed, in Harry's arms, staring into the emerald eyes she loved so much. His hands played with her hair, rough fingertips stroking the back of her neck and shoulders. She snuggled closer to his chest, enjoying the feel of her bare skin on his. "I love you," Harry said softly, kissing the top of her head. She smiled.

"I love you too," she answered, looking up into his face. Harry grinned and captured her lips with his. The kiss, sweet at first, deepened into something more. Ginny grinned into the kiss, wrapping her hands around his shoulders as his went around her waist. It felt so right, but then, something felt different. As the kiss grew fiercer, stronger, Ginny pulled away, her lips sore and bruised. She looked up into the face of her Harry only to find it wasn't him – dark hair, blue eyes and a sadistic smile.

"You!" she stammered, trying to pull away. But strong arms held her, pulling her into his body. She tried to fight him but it was no use. He looked down at her and smirked.

"What? Don't you love me anymore?" he asked simply, stroking her hair.

"I never loved you! Where's Harry?" she screamed, desperate now to escape from the Dark Lords clutches, to go back to Harry.

"Oh, you mean him?" the man asked, moving his head so Ginny could see what lie beside them on the bed. It was Harry – her Harry. Green eyes wide and blank, staring at a distant spot. Face still and framed in delicate shock. And a small dribble of blood ran from the corner of his mouth…

.-.-.

Alien hands were removed from her head and she was left dirty, violated and in tears. "Does it hurt, sweet Ginny?" a voice asked mere inches from her ears. She pulled away, breaking the ties holding her head and covered her face with her hands. Heart-broken sobs struggled for released, but she held them in, swallowing the painful lump that had risen. The tears kept falling, mingling with her scarlet locks, as she silently begged for escape.

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Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter and never will.

Thanks to Yan'weh for Beta-ing.

Hey people, I'm back from my holiday!

I wrote all this today! It was meant to be longer, with another Harry-perspective at the end, but I thought that was a better ending. The next one will have more search plans, what Harry wants with Snape, and maybe even the location of the Dark Lord's hide-out.

There were a couple more clues onto who the new Dark Lord is. And I can give you this clue – the Dark Lord is someone new. It isn't an older character that wants revenge or some sort of other thing. But, this person didn't just pop up from nowhere, wanting to kill Harry. There is a reason and a connection.

Well, thanks for the reviews everyone! They make my day complete! Please review again using that little button down there!

Oh, and about the song-poem-thing at the start. I wrote it (YAY) and it is the first of a three part trilogy-song-poem-thing. (Eh). This one is called I'm Waiting. The second one for the next chapter is I Will Find You. And the last one, which I have not written is Almost There. I was bored and thought I'd write them today, well, actually, I had written I Will Find You for this chapter but when I finished this chapter, I went, 'no, it doesn't work for this one.' So I wrote I'm Waiting.

I hope you liked it!

Later Days…

DW