The darkness was overpowering, ominous, and to Felix, it was just plain creepy. He had been in the small black room for…

How long had it been?

For all he knew it could have been anywhere from hours to weeks. His internal clock had shut down soon after the door shut and the light went out. At first he was optimistic, thinking that his mummy would be there shortly, she would open the door and tell him how silly he was. Then she'd pick him up and hug him forever, he loved her hugs, best in the world. But after a while of sitting in the dark waiting without anything happening he stopped hoping for someone to save him and started planning. If he was going to get out of this, he was going to have to do it himself.

The ground of the tiny cell was made of sand which in the beginning gave him some hope because he thought that maybe he could dig his way out, but one foot down he ran into stone. He had searched all the walls for a loose brick, or a crack, anything that might tell of an opening. He knew there was a door somewhere, but in the darkness he couldn't find it. He remembered when he was younger and he would get really mad or scared or angry he could make things happen magically so he tried doing that, but again nothing happened.

Now, he was just sitting against a wall singing to himself. He had sung every song he ever knew and the ones he didn't know all the words to, he made up.

"Now lets try Ron! Ron Ron bo Bon banana fana fo Fon me my mo Mon, Ron! Harry! Harry Harry bo Barry banana fana fo Farry me my mo Marry, Harry! Hermione! Hermione Hermione bo…Ber…mione? That one's too hard." Felix sighed. Boy, was he bored! Then, just as he was about to lose his mind, a crack of light appeared next to him. The door was opening!

A head appeared through the crack, it was a woman with long brown hair pulled back in an intricate braid that hung over her shoulder. She looked around until she found the boy sitting in the corner and smiled. She had a pretty smile, one that should make someone feel warm inside, but instead froze Felix's blood. Something was oddly familiar about that smile and made a chill run down the small boys spine. He did not want to touch this woman. Something, perhaps the same thing that told him she was familiar, made a little red flag go up in Felix's mind and he inched away from her outstretched hand.

"Don't be frightened little one, I won't hurt you." She assured, giving him a false smile.

"Get away from me! I'd rather stay in here that touch your slimy hand!"

"Now, now, is that any way to speak to a lady?" She drawled, looking at him with half lidded eyes.

"I don't see any lady 'round here!" Felix retorted, but before he could get fully away from her she pulled her wand out and cried,

"Stupify!" And he was once again engulfed in darkness.

Ginny's breath caught in her throat. Right in front of her was the man for whom she was searching. The only man she had ever loved, had ever been with, who had been missing for almost a decade, was standing right in front of her.

"Ginny…" He whispered, his deep voice touching a part of her that had died a long time ago. He reached his hand up to cup her cheek, she wanted to stay there with him forever, just his presence was intoxicating, but she pulled away.

"No, I can't…" Her voice broke as tears came to her eyes, she stubbornly blinked them back not wanting him to see her like this. She wasn't going to break down in tears three seconds after seeing him. She stood up straight and looked him in the eyes again, but now there was an icy shell hiding her emotions. She cleared her throat and moved her hands to fix her disheveled appearance, but as soon as she moved her broken arm a sharp stab of pain shot through her wrist up to her elbow. She winced and made a small involuntary sound of pain.

As soon as the sound escaped her lips, Draco gently put his hand on her arm and with the other held up her wand that had been missing and without his eyes moving from her face fixed her broken limb. The pain immediately left. If only her heart could be fixed so easily. She pulled her arm away.

Clearing her throat she stepped back, away from the silver haired Slytherin, she needed to think straight and being near him didn't help.

Her mind instantly clicked on Felix and the men who must have followed Felix. If they were anything like the huge men who had followed her she knew he didn't have a chance of escape. She gasped and put a trembling hand to her mouth.

"Felix! I have to find Felix!" She looked back at Draco to tell him she had to leave, but he spoke first.

"We can't do anything right now, let me take you back to my place and you can get dried off. We can talk there, too, if you want." His face showed no emotion, but it did show what the stress of running for years did to him. His once angelic face was now hard and lean with taunt skin pulled tight over his frame giving him a look that was hauntingly hollow. Where his skin used to be an almost translucent white was now sun tanned and rough. His shoulders had broadened and his frame had filled out, he was no longer tall and skinny, but grown with lean, hard muscles. His face was chiseled with hard lines and striking angles and the tanned skin made his light eyes and hair stand out in stark relief.

"Alright, lets go." And together they walked in the rain to Draco's flat.

The shock of seeing his little, innocent Ginny kill two huge men was still eminent in Draco's mind. He had run as fast as he could to her aide, but had gotten lost more than once in the winding streets of Cairo. When he thought he might be too late and becoming frustrated almost to the point of blind fury he had found a familiar wand laying in the middle of the road and for the first time in many years he did magic. It had felt so right, so fulfilling that he almost forgot why he did the simple "point me" charm but was soon off in the right direction.

He arrived just in time to see the two men lunge at her, and before he could even think of a hex to throw at them they were lying dead on the ground.

At that point he should have disappeared in the night, but he couldn't. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her wet form. Then she saw him and he was done for.

He should have made some snide comment, make her hate him for ever leaving. Get her away from him, whatever it took. He was not apart of her life anymore and she probably moved on a long time ago. Judging by the child's age, it didn't take her long either.

Now she was sitting on his small couch toweling her hair while he sipped his tea placidly.

"I have to find Felix. I don't know why I came here; I should have gone straight to the Hotel. He could be waiting there for me right now like I told him to." She was mostly talking to herself but Draco cut in.

"If I know these guys like I think I do, then they have him. They'll never stop until they do, it's best if we just assume so." Ginny looked up abruptly, like she had forgotten he was there.

"Who are they?" she asked tentatively after a moment of studying him,

"As far a I know they're former Deatheaters and Voldemort supporters, but why they hunt people like us I don't know. I haven't really had the chance to ask them." Draco said sarcastically.

"Do you find this all a big joke? Men thought no longer to be in existence have kidnapped my son!" She accused.

"Oh, so he is your son then! How long did you wait after I left until you slipped in bed with Potter or Finnegan or one of those other Gryffindor saints?" He spat out the last words like venom. Losing his temper was not something he was used to doing, but she had said she loved him and love doesn't die that easily. It just doesn't! She just stared in shocked disbelief.

"That is none of your business. Are you going help me find my son or if I'm just waiting my time?"

He sat back down. He didn't even remember standing up in the first place, and nodded his agreement, but he wasn't going to apologize. She was right, though; it was none of his business. Why should he care about her happy little life now, it was evident that she didn't love him anymore. But one question tugged at his mind that just didn't fit in with what his brain was telling him.

Why was she here?

But along with everything else, he pushed it to the back of his mind and concentrated on the facts. Ginny was here, who cared about the why, and her son had been kidnapped by the same men who were following him. Now, what was the child's importance to them?

He stood again and started to pace while thinking out loud.

"Why would those men be interested in your son? If he was Potter's then they could ransom him, but I don't think they are interested in ransoming. Personally I got the impression that they wanted to stay somewhat hidden and ransoming would get a lot of unwanted attention. So if not for money, why then?"

Watching Draco with dripping hair and wet clothes pace around was almost too much for Ginny. The feral, graceful way he moved reminded her of when Dumbledore first introduced him into the Order.

Rain was pouring down on the Burrow. Everyone was somber due to the loss they had just had. The battle had not been a success, to put it lightly. They had lost three members of the Order including their good friend, Tonks, and not one Deatheaters had died or been captured.

Ginny sat curled up on the lumpy couch next to Ron, who was cuddling with his girlfriend, Hermione. The red-haired girl sipped at her tea, but as soon as the hot liquid touched her tongue it tasted as if it had turned to ash. Ginny peered emotionless into the fire, entranced by the dancing flames; it was something she often did to avoid thinking.

A knock came at the door and her father opened his to reveal Dumbledore standing alone in the storm.

"Ah, Dumbledore, good to see you're alright. We were worried." Arthur said absently, "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you, Arthur. I am here with some good news." Dumbledore replied, pausing to let the full effect of his words sink in. They hadn't had good news since Moody reported that Belatrix LeStrange committed suicide, and that had been months ago. Everyone looked up hopefully. Ginny felt her heart do a flip-flop, not letting herself hope that maybe the war was somehow over and they had won.

"Something, or rather someone, has come to our advantage. He came to me last night seeking refuge and asking if he could join the Order and fight against Voldemort." No one even winced at the name; it had become such common place, "Now, when I bring him in here please be as civil as possible, and please trust my judgment about this young man, he is here to help." Dumbledore then opened the door and went back outside, when he came back in he was accompanied by someone. Ginny heard a gasp from Ron and a loud cough that sounded suspiciously like a choke from Harry's corner of the room.

Draco Malfoy, the son of the most notorious and evil Deatheater that ever lived, was standing in her sitting room. He had dark purple circles under his eyes and little beads of water dripped from his wild and unbrushed hair onto his soaked shirt, but he didn't seem to notice. It was strange to see the prince of Slytherin, who was always immaculate and accompanied with an aristocratic air, so disheveled. He looked around the room stonily until his eyes rested on Ginny. They stared at each other for a minute before he smirked and looked away. What was that for? She thought.

"Are you joking? This has to be some kind of a joke, right?" Ron blurted out, "I mean, come on! It's Malfoy, the evil slimy git who's tormented us and made our lives miserable for the last six and a half years! The same guy who threatened us and called Hermione a…uh…well you know, and who we just fought against in the last battle! He was even laughing when Tonks died! Laughing! And now he's just come to you all remorseful and repentant and you just accept him with open arms? I don't think so." Ron finished in a huff and crossing his arms defensively over his chest.

Dumbledore waited patiently throughout the tirade and calmly made his reply to the curious crowd.

"Now that you have that out of your system, I expect you all to treat him civilly and please, no violence. Molly, I trust you will have appropriate accommodations for Mr. Malfoy. Now with that said, I have some very important business with Hagrid I need to attend to." And with a swish of his wand, he was gone and Draco stood alone, surrounded by people who were supposed to be his enemy.

Draco walked over to the fire so to dry off his clothes, he moved so gracefully that Ginny was almost jealous. He had a cat-like grace that gave him a feline countenance and Ginny could almost picture him pouncing on Ron, claws at the ready. The image made her giggle and in the silent room the sound was practically booming. Everyone looked at her like she had grown an extra head, except for Draco who had a small smirk playing on his lips, like he knew what she had been thinking about. That was the first, but definitely not the last time she wondered if he could read her mind.

Ginny felt horrible about not telling Draco he was Felix's father, but maybe it was best he didn't know yet. It would come as quite a shock and she needed Draco to be fully conscience if he was going to help her find Felix.

And as far as Ginny was concerned it really wasn't any of Draco's business knowing about her love life, he had forfeited that right the day he had left. But deep inside Ginny she knew there was more to it than that, somewhere inside her she was testing Draco to see if he would care that she had been with other men, to see if he got jealous or angry. If he did it might be a sign that he still cared for her the way she did for him.

He was still pacing by the time her hair had dried and still he hadn't reached a logical conclusion as to why her son had been kidnapped. But to Ginny it was obvious, they wanted Felix to get to Draco. Somehow they knew Felix was Draco's son, that he was in the city, had found him and kidnapped him. They would have taken her too if she hadn't been prepared. She would have rather them taken her than Felix. She would do anything to get him back safely.

"We can't do anything tonight so we'll just have to try and track them down tomorrow. Chances are they know we'll come for the boy and set up traps and such. You should get some rest, you've had a hard day." Draco didn't even look at her, like he couldn't stand the sight of her or something. Ginny's heart sank. Her worst fear was probably true; he didn't want her anymore. He probably moved on years ago.

Well, if that was the case then so be it. She had learned to cope with his absence for quite some time and she could do it again. She placed a mask of indifference and formality on her face and stood.

"Yes, thank you. Where am I to sleep?" Draco looked up at her detached voice and formal words, something flashed in his eyes, but was gone almost instantly. What replaced it was a mask not unlike her own.

"You may have the bed, I will sleep on the couch. You may also wash up in the bathroom if you would like. I'll wake you in the morning. Blankets are in the chest by the bed." He mocked her strict demeanor as he turned and walked to the couch then said almost as an afterthought, "Oh, and sleep well. Good-night."

More depressed then ever, Ginny walked to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed.

The dark figure stood in the cemetery shrouded in a black cloak, the small sliver of the moon his only light. He held a torn diary in one hand and a small child by the hair in the other waiting for the clock to strike and tell him it was time.

He had worked tirelessly on this spell for a number of years and had waited for so long for the perfect time to execute it. And finally, the time had come.

A small breeze stirred the hem of his cloak and made the child whimper and struggle for freedom. The man didn't seem to notice, he was only concerned with the tolling of the bell.

Then finally the clock struck.

Dong!

The man held the diary to the sky and started to chant softly in another language.

Dong!

He pulled the child roughly to his feet and with magic bound him to a broken headstone and set the diary in the boy's lap.

Dong!

A long, curved dagger was unsheathed slowly making a chilling scraping sound as it came out of the scabbard. Then man spoke, "The blood of a servant!" He placed the blade in his hand and sliced downward. He dripped blood onto the diary, then onto the headstone.

Dong!

"The heart of a loved one!" And he pulled out a jar from the folds of his cloak with a beating heart inside. He pulled the lid off and took the heart out with his free hand. Setting down the jar he pulled out a small pouch of silver dust, which he poured on the heart.

Dong!

He raised the heart to the sky and recited the spell in Latin.

Dong!

The man's eyes rolled back in his head, clouds began to gather and the child started to cry.

Dong!

Lightning struck the heart causing it to glow in an unearthly way.

Dong!

"Consumed by a servant!" He bit into the glowing heart tearing a bloody piece off and chewing it without thought as blood dripped down his chin.

Dong!

"Bone of the Father and eye of the Mother together guide thy spirit back to this world!" He said tossing a bone and an eye on the boy's lap. He cried harder.

Dong!

He took more of the silver powder and sprinkled some on the boy then put his hand on the crown of the child's head and again began to chant.

Dong!

"Return to this world! And reward thy servant!"

Dong!

"Blood of the innocent is now shed for thee to gain thy strength!" And with the knife, sliced the screaming boy's throat transforming the cry into a lifeless gurgle. Lightning struck the boy and where his body had been was now another boy. This one was older, about sixteen, with black unruly hair and deep blue eyes. He smiled maliciously.

"Well done my servant. What is your name so I may know who I am rewarding?"

"My name, my lord, is Lucius Malfoy."

Draco couldn't sleep to save his life. No matter what he did his mind kept wandering to the fact that Ginny was sleeping just one room over, in his bed no less.

He tried all the typical remedies, warm milk, reading a boring book, but nothing worked. Thus the reason he was up at four a.m. to hear the tap on his door. He bristled. At least I'm awake, alert and ready for an attack, Draco thought dryly as he cautiously approached the door.

Preparing himself he opened the door and stared shocked at who was standing there.

Pansy Parkinson was leaning against the doorframe smirking. He had successfully stayed hidden for nine years and then in the same month seven people from his past had found him. He sighed resignedly.

"What do you want?" Pansy's smirk became a full smile as she recognized him.

"Draco? You're the…? Well, I guess it makes sense." She said to herself, and then to Draco, "What do I want? Many things." She sauntered into his small flat and surveyed the place. She wrinkled her nose, "Oh how the mighty have fallen."

Draco sneered, "Are you going to tell me why you're here? I doubt it's for a friendly chat, so get on with it. I don't have all day." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited impatiently for an answer.

Pansy leaned against the divider between the kitchen and the sitting room and flipped her long intricate braid over her shoulder. "Well, Drakie, I actually knew the bloke who lived here before you. Apparently he left without saying good-bye, who knew you lived here now?" Her smile sent chills down his spine. This was no coincidence, he knew Pansy and she always knew everything about everyone wherever she went, she would never make a mistake like the one she was claiming to have made.

"Lucky me." Draco retorted detachedly examining his nails.

"You know, Drakie, it's been so long. We should catch up sometime." She walked over to where Draco was standing and brushed a hand down his arm while looking up suggestively.

"Sure, sounds great." He said, shoving away her touch., "Look, can you leave? I don't really feel like talking to you right now. Thanks, I'll floo you." He guided her to the door none too lightly, opened it in one quick motion and shoved her out. Her mouth was still hanging open when he closed the door in her face, smirking. He never did like her.

He opened his fist to reveal a folded piece of parchment that he had pick-pocketed out of Pansy's pocket. Smiling, he unfolded it and stared. It was a map, well, more like a blueprint of something. It wasn't a building but more like a giant maze riddled with traps. He had also noticed when she came close to him she smelled strongly of fire and smoke. As he walked back to the sitting room his feet crunched on something, he looked down and saw the floor was sprinkled with sandy footprints.

Shaking his head he crumpled the piece parchment and stuffed it in his pocket and decided to try and get some sleep.

Ginny stepped quietly away from the door and back to the bed, if you could even call it a bed, and slipped between the sheets. She had gotten up to get a drink and discovered Pansy Parkinson making moves on Draco. Had Draco been having contact with the other Slytherin all these years? She didn't want to think that he had when he never even wrote Ginny once. Not to mention Pansy was confirmed a Deatheater when the war began and if she was talking to Draco, what did that mean?

Pushing it to the back of her mind to be reexamined in the morning she resolved to get some sleep.

The room was made of black marble with veins of white winding though it. Two men stood in the middle of the room conversing quietly, black hoods hiding both their faces.

With a loud bang double doors made of dark mahogany were thrown open and another hooded man entered with a small precession following closely behind him. They formed a half circle centering in the middle and stood like statues waiting for something or someone.

They waited for what seemed like hours, none moving a muscle, until what they were waiting for came. The man in the middle of the semi-circle spoke, "Behold the Dark Lord has risen! All hail the Dark Lord!" And through the doors walked the man who had haunted Ginny's nightmare since she was eleven.

Ginny shot up in bed, cold sweat soaking her clothes and making her hair stick to her face. Her breath was raspy and uneven and her body felt like it had just run a marathon and no matter what she did she couldn't get his face out of her mind.

Tom Riddle was very much alive.