A/N: I don't own anything except the plot. It's unclear in book five which Death Eaters, other than Lucius Malfoy, were captured so my reference to Nott in this chapter (and other Death Eaters in later chapters) may eventually contradict books six and seven.

The first week at Hogwarts was busy as always. Ginny was in her O.W.L. year and her teachers were making sure that the fifth year students knew they were in for a demanding term. She had mountains of homework from all of her teachers expect Firenze, the centaur teaching her Divination class. Firenze thought that trying to test students on foretelling the future was a ridiculous idea and Ginny was very relieved she'd gotten in his class rather than Professor Trelawney's. Harry and Ron always came back from her class smelling like incense and with assignments that they had to be very imaginative to complete.

Since it was still light and mild outside, Ginny decided to go outside to do her homework. She settled under a tree near the lake and pulled out her parchment, quill and her Transfiguration text. She was about three quarters of the way through her essay when a shadow fell over her paper. Squinting, she looked up into the smug face of Draco Malfoy.

"That's a nasty bruise you have there, Weasley," he drawled, "Although I'm sorry to tell you that your lip is pencil thin again."

Ginny unconsciously reached a hand up to her jaw. He was right, the fat lip he'd given her had gone away but the bruise was taking a little longer to heal. It was no longer purple but an ugly yellow-brown and it still ached when she opened her mouth.

"I've been expecting your prat brother to demand satisfaction the whole week but he's only been as much of a git as usual." He sneered, "Certainly he's not so busy sniffing after Granger that he didn't even notice my handiwork?"

"Not to worry, Malfoy. Ron was quite shocked by my appearance."

"Well do tell him to get on with his attempt to retaliate. I'm getting rather weary of waiting."

"I'm afraid I can't help you there," Ginny said in an insincere apologetic tone, "As far as my brother knows I had a horrid run-in with the snack cart."

His eyes widened briefly in surprise and Malfoy lowered himself into a squatting position to look her in the eyes.

"Now why, I wonder, would you tell him that?" he asked.

Ginny sighed, wishing he would just go away. "Why, Malfoy? I startled you out of your sleep; it wasn't as if you meant to hit me. You apologized. I didn't feel the need to get my over-protective brother all in a lather over it. Nor did I relish the idea of being lectured about traveling with Draco Malfoy. Does that clear it all up for you or shall I draw you a picture?"

Malfoy started to get up but changed his mind. Smirking, he asked, "Why were you in my compartment, Weasley? Looking for a bit of personal attention?"

Ginny laughed in his face. "Not from you, Malfoy! I thought the compartment was empty and I was looking for a quiet place to finish up a paper. I almost left when I realized you were there, but I decided that the stench wasn't so awful that it would distract me from my work. So, if you're quite finished with your questions, why don't go find someone else to irritate?"

Giving her a quick icy glare, Malfoy stood and stalked back toward the castle. Ginny looked around and saw that the sun was beginning to set. She'd have to finish the essay after dinner. Gathering up her things, she followed the annoying Slytherin.

Later, Ginny lay in bed and tried to decompress. She should have been prepared for the amount of work being heaped on her. She had, after all, watched six brothers go through this process before her. She wasn't prepared, though, and now when night came it took quite a while for her to clear her head and relax enough to go to sleep. Heck, even when she was asleep she was overwhelmed by school work. Just last night she'd had a dream that she turned in a paper in Potions only to discover she had inadvertently switched the paper with her mother's grocery list.

Also keeping her awake was the constant replaying in her mind of the recent exchanges she'd had with Malfoy. What kind of dream could cause an arrogant git like Malfoy to be so terrified? What scared his so badly that he would lash out like he had? It was very perplexing.

And, finally, what should she do about Ron and Harry's ridiculous competition for Hermione's affection. Ron had had a minor crush on Hermione since his fourth year, Ginny knew. He'd never admitted it. In fact, Ginny wasn't sure he had even recognized his jealousy of Victor Krum for what it was at the time. Now that Harry had developed feelings for her as well, Ron had been forced into action. Ron's perception that he was always in Harry's shadow made any competition between the two a bit touchy. At least Ginny was fairly certain he was sincerely interested in Hermione.

Harry was a larger problem. He had never shown the slightest interest in Hermione as anything other than his best friend before this summer. Ginny wasn't convinced that his attention to Hermione had honest-to-goodness romantic roots. Sirius' death had been a huge blow to Harry. He didn't really remember his parents so even though he wished they were still alive, he couldn't miss them. Sirius was a different story. All Harry's hopes for happiness had been pinned on Sirius. The plan was for Harry to live with Sirius once Sirius' name was cleared. He had been the closest thing to a father that Harry ever had. Losing him simply crushed Harry. Ginny worried that Harry was just looking for a way to fill the hole that Sirius had left. She worried that Harry, Hermione and Ron would all be hurt in the end. It was a difficult problem to address though. How could she tactfully tell Hermione that she thought Harry only wanted her because he missed his godfather?

Slowly Ginny managed to let these thoughts slip away. As the last of the tension melted away from her, she finally succumbed to sleep.

Alone in the Slytherin common room, Draco revisited his earlier conversation with the Weasley girl. It had surprised him that she lied to her brother about what had happened. The prat must annoy his sister almost as much as he annoyed Draco if she preferred letting Draco get away with hitting her to listening to Ron lecture her. It was interesting. His respect for her was a little less grudging knowing she wasn't the type that immediately ran off to tattle. And while it was good to know that Ron Weasley wasn't planning to come after him, Draco knew he deserved the wrath of the girl's brother. Not that he would have submitted to it, but he was honest enough with himself to know he'd earned it.

Draco looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 2:30 in the morning and he was very tired. Sleep was not very restful for him these days. The dreams were always there. Since he couldn't very well take the chance that his roommates would wake up to find him sweating and flailing about – Crabbe & Goyle did not have the same desire for discretion that Ginny Weasley had – Draco had taken to staying in the common room until everyone else had gone to bed and getting what little rest he could there. As long as he was up and dressed before everyone else, no one noticed that he hadn't been in his bed all night. It was wearing on him though. Dark circles seemed to be permanently drawn under his eyes. He dreaded going to sleep, but he could only hold out so long. Stretching out on the soft green sofa, he closed his eyes.

"Answer me, boy!"

The voice was hateful. The red eyes bore down on him and he closed his own eyes to escape the fury that shone in them.

"Please, My Lord, I can't. Let us go home."

Draco loathed the desperation in his voice. He longed to hurt his father's master but he could only plead for mercy.

Lord Voldemort laughed at him. It was a horrible sound, dark and sinister.

"You can't? Let you go home? You can and you will. Now get on with it, your father's comrades are anxious to begin."

Summoning his courage, Draco looked straight into the hideous eyes.

"I will not." His steely voice echoed across the chamber.

He heard the word, 'Crucio', just a split second before he felt a pain too great for tears. He couldn't think. All that existed was agony. It seemed to stretch on forever but, when it finally ended, he knew it had only been a few minutes.

"Have you made your choice?"

Panting, Draco tried to meet the Dark Lord's eyes once again. "I will not," he repeated.

"Foolish boy, you are mistaken." There was no humor in the laugh that followed. Draco saw the wand rising towards his chest and closed his eyes. He heard the spell called out once again, "Crucio!"

And so it went, the unforgivable curse causing torturous pain to engulf him each time he refused the Dark Lord. Sometime later, he couldn't be sure just how long, Draco lay sprawled on the cold stone floor, his body twitching involuntarily. He could not fight anymore.

"Have you made your choice?"

Quietly, a voice Draco didn't recognize as his own replied, "Yes, My Lord."

"Who will it be then, young Malfoy?"

"Nott, My Lord." And then the tears came.