Disclaimer: It pains me. It really does.

Green Philosophy of a Prince

Previously

He was gone and Ginny was left staring at the empty chair. His blood still stained her clothing and no amount of water would clean it off. The simplest spell would clean it but Draco had taken his wand. It occurred to her that she only longed for her wand for the simple everyday spells. She longed for simple everyday life. She longed for the Burrow. She longed for Harry.

A floorboard creaked from behind her. Ginny whipped round to see a dark figure standing a few feet from her, but the shadow cast darkness over her all the same.

"That was a very touching display. It's only a shame that you are not an equal to my son. You would make a handsome couple" Lucius Malfoy sneered at this comment, "Still, that is not why I am here. We are all gathered in meeting. I have been sent to collect you. Our Lord wishes to see you and question you."

Ginny visibly flinched as a cold dread spread throughout her body. She had promised to give information. She had forgotten, but it was too late to back out now.

Under Charge

"Ginny Weasley, you are here under the charge of aiding and abetting Deatheaters on the night of the 13th July at 12 Grimauld Place. Do you plead guilty or not guilty?"

Ginny's sad eyes turned towards the gallery. Her mother was sitting in the front row, her hands clasped in her lap, her jaw set and her eyes closed. Harry sat next to her, but his eyes were fixed upon the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, acting Judge and Prosecutor. He would not look her.

Ginny's hair had grown wild from her months of imprisonment in Azkaban; her hollow cheeks had faded to an eerie, translucent countenance. Her clothes were a rotting cloth on her frail figure.

She bowed her head at the Minister's words. She was guilty. What else could she plead? She had betrayed her friends, her family.

Her internal voice rose to defend her. But you had no other choice. They would have killed you. You had no choice. It didn't make her any less guilty. She was facing a lifetime of emptiness and regret. Her family would never acknowledge her. Only her mother and Harry had come to her trial. No, she was completely alone. What kind of a life was that?

Flashback

She could feel his breath on the back of her throat. She struggled to remain standing. Her legs begged for rest. She had been standing for so long now. The Dark Lord sat on his throne, flanked by his trusted Deatheaters, waiting for her reply.

Voldemort's face re-arranged itself to form a sneer. "We are waiting Miss Weasley. Have you changed you mind, because we can always send you back?" Those around him laughed.

Malfoy stepped a little closer. She could almost feel him pressed against her back. "Weasley, you have to tell them. He'll kill you. Do you not value your life?"

"Yes I do Malfoy," she hissed. "But, I just have a greater sense of loyalty and love for my friends."

He pressed his hand behind her shoulder-blade and pushed hard. Her eyes watered with the pain. "Where are they now, ummm, these heroic friends of your? You have no friends. You're alone. Just do it Ginny."

She grabbed his hand and the pain stopped. "Stop. I'll tell them." Then turning to face him, she whispered, his hand was still in her own, "I, it, it's 12 Grimauld pp pplace, but it will only appear to a member of t th the order." Draco smiled: a genuine smile. "Now was that so bad?"

He walked to the foot of the Dark Lord's throne, bending low. Voldemort rose triumphant and addressing Ginny, said, "You have proven more useful than you will ever know, my dear."

With some relief, Draco Malfoy returned to her side as Voldemort exited the chamber. She spoke barely above a whisper. "Malfoy, what will they do?"

"Don't worry yourself Weasley. You'll see your friends soon enough. The Dark Lord will need you to accompany us and show us the house."

End of Flashback

"Miss Weasley, you must give us you answer. What do you plead?"

Her reply was barely a whisper. A Clark rose, asking her to repeat her reply, then hurried towards the Minister.

"She pleads guilty your Honour."

Mrs Weasley stood abruptly and left through the back doors. Harry followed closely behind. She was utterly alone. The figure in the chair next to her shifted uncomfortably as the chain bruised his skin. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and turned towards her. He sat regally: a prince in his throne room. She wondered at his ease, but deep down she realised, he had been preparing himself for this moment his whole life. He had expected nothing different.

"Looks like we're going down together Weasley."

No. She was not entirely alone.

A/N I realise you are all now in shock. It's not the end that anyone was expecting, but I didn't set out to write a love-dovey story, so I'm really sorry everyone.

I'd just like to thank everyone who read and reviewed dedicatedly. I really appreciate it. And again, I hate depressing stories myself so why the hell did I write one! Well, to be honest I don't have a bloody clue.

Feel free to review. Try to refrain from flaming me tho.