"So lets review what we know, the boy was kidnapped, the Dark Lord was raised in his younger form and Draco is the kid's father?" To her, the last part was the most shocking, "What does this all mean?" Pansy asked loudly to the small group of fellow Deatheaters.

A few looked up languidly not really caring about what Pansy was saying. It had been a hard day of sitting and doing nothing. Some shrugged and others mumbled words of ignorance on the matter. She gave up and sighed, irritated with her comrades and dropped dejectedly onto the vacant leather couch.

They had been lazing around doing nothing but waiting for orders the past few days. None had come and it had been driving Pansy mad, so she had decided to do some digging of her own since Lucius had a habit of keeping everyone in the dark. After Harry-Bloody-Potter annihilated the Dark Lord and had sent the ragged band of Deatheaters running with their tails between their legs into hiding, Malfoy had banded them all together with the hope of resurrecting the Dark Lord. But besides that, he failed to share anything else with them for the past eight years. None of them knew how this would be done, but if anyone could do it was Malfoy.

Now the plan was in motion. Things were coming together. They knew Malfoy needed the boy for the Dark Lord, but what they didn't understand was why this particular boy. Malfoy was very avid about them getting the "right child" and Pansy had wanted to know why.

She started by reading all the files kept on the boy and found out some very important information like his favorite flavor of ice cream was strawberry and his middle name was Marcellus. Frustrated almost to the point of screaming, she finally ran upon something useful. In the second paragraph on the forty-eighth page was the father's information and current address, but it left out one crucial piece of information - his name. It appeared that this bloke moved around quite a bit so she decided to make a social call before he decided to go for another floo trip. And boy, did she find out something interesting! Draco Malfoy was the child's father! The only problem was that it didn't make sense. Why would Lucius go through all that trouble to arrange the kidnapping of his own grandson?

Pansy had been trying to piece together all the information she had and still hadn't come up with any plausible reason as to why this kid. But the purpose of her research ended when Lucius had taken the child away a few days ago and she hadn't seen either since.

Talking about people she hadn't seen, Crabbe and Goyle had been missing for about two days now. She briefly wondered where they had go off to, but it wasn't a matter of great concern; they did always get lost or stuck someplace. She remembered at Hogwarts they were once gone for a week because they pushed instead of pulled on the lavatory door thinking they were locked in. They ate toilet paper rolls and pocket lint to keep themselves alive. She rolled her eyes at the memory.

Getting more comfortable on the leather couch and propping her feet on the coffee table, she put her hands behind her head and closed her eyes. It had been such a boring day that there was really no reason to stay awake any longer. But just as she was drifting off there was a loud knock at the door of the flat. Groaning loudly she forced herself to her feet and dragged her sluggish body to the door. Opening it she smiled at the familiar face peaking out from a blue cloak.

"About time you got back."

Toweling her face dry, Ginny looked tiredly into the cracked mirror at her pale reflection. She had not gotten a wink of sleep after her dream of Tom. This had created small circles under her eyes and worry lines on her forehead, she also thought she looked paler than usual, though she didn't know if that was possible. It was bad enough having Felix's welfare to worry about, but now she had to add Tom being alive to the list. She made an annoyed sound and heaved the towel at the mirror as if to dash her reflection. Running her fingers through her newly washed hair she took a few calming breaths before tightening the knot on her robe and going out to meet Draco for breakfast.

When she got to the kitchen she discovered something quite shocking.

Draco could cook!

He had prepared two ham, cheese and onion omelets, two bowls with strawberries and cream, two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice (she saw the orange rind in the sink) and had somehow procured two Daily Prophets. Oh my! She thought.

He saw her standing in the doorway open mouthed and smirked. She shut her mouth with a snap and put on a neutral face.

"Oh my, what?" Draco asked with an eyebrow raised arrogantly. It took Ginny a moment to realize that she must have spoken aloud. She cleared her throat and fiddled with the knot on her robe to buy herself more time.

"Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy could actually do something without the assistance of house elves? It's really quite shocking."

"Well, when you live on your own for nine years you have to learn to do things by yourself. The only person I could trust was me, but 'me' didn't know too much about the world. It was either learn or die. I chose to learn." Ginny understood now more than ever how hard it must have been for him. When she had met him, he didn't know one cleaning spell or even how to degnome a garden and it either took a sound threat or a bribe to get him to do either.

"Ok, when one comes out of it's hole, grab it, spin it and throw it. Like this." Ginny grabbed the nearest gnome and spun it around her head until it was properly dizzy then threw it over the fence and whooped for joy. "That was a far one!" She looked over at her companion, "Your turn!"

"You mean I have to touch those things?" The blonde boy drawled, wrinkling his nose in disgust and crossing his arms haughtily over his chest. " I don't think so. Malfoy's do not do chores. But you're free to do it all you want Weasel, be my guest." She rolled her eyes and put on her best Malfoy sneer.

"Well, Malfoy," she said imitating his drawl and emphasizing his name, "you are no longer someone who can get away with not doing chores. Now you either learn to pull your own weight around here or I'll make Mum have you sleep in Ron's room with him and Harry, how would you like that?" She said triumphantly at the look of utter horror on Malfoy's face, "Didn't think so. Shall we try this again?"

"Thank you, Draco. It smells amazing." They sat down at the table and opened their newspapers simultaneously; they looked up and gave each other slight smiles then returned to their breakfasts.

The news wasn't that exciting. Another muggle toilet bombing, someone in the Ministry was retiring, Harry Potter's daughter's birthday bash and Blaise Zabini was missing.

Blaise Zabini was missing!

"Oh dear!" Ginny cried. Draco looked up questioningly with an eyebrow quirked. "Blaise is missing! Here read it!" She handed the paper to Draco who scanned its contents, the only sign of emotion was his brows getting gradually more furrowed the farther he got through the article. He let out a low whistle and placed he paper on his empty plate.

"Who would kidnap Blaise? It just doesn't make sense, does it?" Draco said in reply to the editorial. Ginny shifted uncomfortably and stared at her half eaten omelet. Draco stared at her face a moment as if it would reveal some hidden answer. "Why do I get the feeling that you might know something about Blaise's disappearance?" Ginny looked up innocently.

"Why would I know anything about it?"

"I don't know, but you do. I taught you that 'innocent' face. Spill it." Draco said firmly. Ginny decided she might as well tell him what she knew. She sighed in resignation.

"Blaise contacted me about three weeks ago to tell me that he knew how to find you. I hadn't seen him for eight and a half years, ever since I told him I was pregnant with…Felix." She had almost said your son, "So it came as quite a shock when suddenly he showed up professing some knowledge of your whereabouts. Anyways, he made me be all discreet about everything because he said the same people who were hunting you were watching him. I guess one of us wasn't discreet enough. I saw him about a week ago, a few days before his disappearance, to tell him I was going to Cairo." She finished and looked up into Draco's silver eyes, trying to discern what was hidden in their depths. All she could see was thoughtful contemplation. He had drawn into himself, mulling over her words.

Some of what Ginny had said didn't make sense to him. Why would Blaise disappear after learning about Ginny's pregnancy? And, why would he tell her where he was if she had moved on years ago, had a child with another man and was probably happily married? Unless she really hadn't moved on and her life wasn't really as happy as he thought it was. Maybe she was acting so detached from him because she thought he had moved on like he thought she had. Come to think of it she wasn't wearing a wedding band.

His conclusion was like a slap in the face. He now knew she still loved him and whoever was the father of the child was no longer important, he still would like to know, but it didn't really matter anymore. He looked up at the red-haired woman and she quickly averted her eyes, suddenly finding her fork very interesting. He smirked. Yes, it was very obvious now. But he wouldn't be the one to make the first move; he would play with her for a little while, try and get her to admit that she still loved him.

"So, do you think that Blaise is somewhere in Cairo? I mean, if the guys hunting you are here and if they took him then wouldn't he be here too?" Ginny's voice broke his concentration. He had momentarily forgotten all about Blaise.

"Yes, that would make sense. But Blaise can take care of himself, your kid can't. I think we should just focus on finding your son. If we're lucky they're being held in the same place and we'll kill two birds with one stone."

"His name is Felix." Draco blinked. "You never say his name." Ginny accused, her eyes boring into him.

"What? I say his name all the time, I don't know what you're talking about." He knew exactly what she was talking about; he never said the kid's name. To Draco, if he said the name then the kid would become real. He knew it was stupid, but he still couldn't make himself say it. He just couldn't bear the thought of Ginny with another man. She may still love him, but that didn't mean she hadn't dated other men and she did have a child with someone other than Draco.

"Whatever, Draco." She said rolling her eyes. There was an awkward silence for a little while where Ginny fiddled with her glass and Draco just stood with his arms crossed and leaning on the counter for support. They didn't speak for a good ten minutes. Finally he glanced at Ginny from the corner of his eye and noticed her eyes had a sort of glazed look to them and her face had grown ghostly pale. Not wanting to seem too concerned he casually gave a small cough and pushed himself away from the counter.

"You, uh, alright there, Ginny? You seem a bit bothered." Ginny blinked rapidly and color flooded back into her cheeks causing them to get a slight pink tinge.

"What? Oh, yes, I'm fine. Didn't get much sleep last night. Do you honestly call that thing a bed? I can't see how anyone can sleep on that rock. You should get yourself a proper bed." She rubbed her neck for emphasis. Draco scowled. He hated people telling him what he should do.

"Thank you for pointing that out, next time I'm in town I'll pop into a mattress shop and get myself a proper bed. That's my top priority. Running and hiding for my life is no longer as important as buying myself a mattress worthy of being called a bed." Ginny returned the scowl just as fiercely. Oh yes, this whole wooing thing was going great.

"Well, you don't have to be so mean about it, do you?" And then to his surprise she stuck her tongue out at him. Before he could stop himself he snorted with laughter and the next thing he knew they were both howling with gut-wrenching laughter and clutching their sides. He was leaning on the table as Ginny leaned on his shoulder.

"We're…so…mature." She managed to say breathlessly between fits of giggles. After they settled down a bit Ginny looked up at him, "Why is it that every time we try and have a civilized conversation we end up at each others throat?"

"Because it's what we do, isn't it? We bicker like an old married couple." The instant he said it he wished it back in his mouth. She stared at him wide-eyed. He shifted his weight trying to act nonchalant and gave a feeble wave of his hand as if to stress its unimportance, "or like brother and sister." He quickly added then mentally cringed when a look of pain flashed through her brown eyes.

"I'm going to go, um, get my things together. We should go to my Hotel and check to see if Felix was there or not. Right then." She stood awkwardly and walked to his room. When she left the kitchen he sunk into a chair and propped his head up with his hands. How could he be so stupid? He practically called her a sister! He groaned audibly then got to his feet.

Ginny was right, the best place to start was the Hotel. He picked up the dish on the table and started to walk towards the sink when his foot crunched on something. Looking down he saw the crumpled piece of parchment he had put in his pocket the night before.

Setting the plates on the counter he picked up the parchment and opened it again to reveal the same scribbles that looked vaguely like a blueprint. It seemed oddly familiar to him but he couldn't think of where he had seen it before, the name just kept flittering out of his head every time he tried to grasp onto it. He knew one place he could go to find out though, The Museum of Antiquities.

He spent a lot of time there because it was usually always deserted and quiet, the curator was the only man he associated with on a regular basis. He was the closest thing to a friend he had had for nine years. Mr. Quazeem, a man who looked young for his age of sixty-four, was energetic and enthusiastic about anything Ancient Egyptian regardless of it being fact or myth. Draco had spent hours there just listening to stories of the Pharaoh's, gods, ancient lands and curses and about the traps and treasures hidden deep inside the pyramids. His uncontained enthusiasm over usually boring things like how the stones for the pyramids were shaped made even the most ornery child stop and listen in awe and rapture. If anyone would know what the blueprint was for, he would.

Ginny came out of his room just after he finished the dishes in a peach button-up blouse and jeans with good sized holes on both the knees. They were worn and torn in a few places and were patched up in others. He could tell none of the tears were intentional, like most of the jean sold in stores nowadays, but results of hard work. And Merlin, did they look good on her. Draco told himself to focus and tore his eyes away.

Looking for something to do with his hands he raked his hair out of his eyes. "Well, shall we go then?" She nodded and together they left for the Hotel Horus House.

Gradually floating back into consciences he tried to remember what had happened. His mind was fuzzy and only got fuzzier the harder he concentrated. Each time he tried to grab onto something substantial it would float just out of his reach, like a leaf caught by the wind. He was starting to get a little freaked out when he tried to think of his name and came up with a blank. He remembered, however, about being a wizard and everything that entailed, but details about his life were mysteriously missing. He decided to focus on the here and now instead of panicking. The first thing he noticed was that the ground he was lying on was not hard, but soft and squishy. Tentatively he opened one eye and surveyed the room, his other eye shot open with shock as he stared at his lavish surroundings.

He was lying on an ornate silver and green bed that just dripped expense. The duvet, pillows, bed hangings, drapes covering him on all four sides, and everything was made of the finest silk. The curtains were a deep emerald green with silver slithering snakes embroidered around the edges. His duvet was dark chrome with the same embroidery but in dark green. He suddenly felt very dirty and out of place lying on such an expensive bed. He didn't know why he felt this way, wouldn't the logical explanation of him being here was because this was his room? He sat up only to realize he was tucked into the covers. Yes, it would appear as if this was his bed. Shaking his head in confusion, the boy decided to explore his new surrounding more thoroughly. Due to the curtains hanging around him he had no idea what the rest of the room looked like. Taking a deep breath he quickly pulled the hangings aside, like pulling off a band-aide so the shock wouldn't be so intense.

And, boy! Was the shock intense!

He stood there open mouthed, gaping like a fish at his room. The ceiling was painted with an intricate and busy mural of abstract people doing everything from dancing to sacrificing each other, there were also animals of all shapes and sizes, he thought one must have been a falcon, though it could have easily passed for a human since it had arms and legs. He couldn't make out some of the paintings since the ceiling was fifty feet above him arching in a high dome. Dark stained mahogany crown molding was lacing the canopy above him. The dark wood was carved with such acute skill that it must have been all done by hand, not magic. The wood curved and spiked making beautiful intricate designs. He trailed his eyes down the green and silver flecked walls that was outlined by dark green marble baseboards and door casings, if he didn't know any better he'd say that the silver paint was real silver ore that had been melted down and put into the paint. It seemed to shimmer in the sunlight that was streaming in from the open window. Did he say window?

He meant balcony- no- more like colonnade! He could see the pillars of marble holding up the large overhang.

Light green lacey drapes flowed down like water from where they were hanging in front of the open colonnade doors. A slight breeze ruffled them as the songs of birds drifted into the suite. The green color of the drapes made the sunlight ripple and seem mossy and cool, like a lagoon hidden deep within a cave. The furniture was all made of the dark mahogany, except for the table, which was made of the same dark marble that outlined the doors. The legs were gilded in silver scrollwork. The chairs were made of dark wood and ornate fringed moss colored cushions with the same silver scrollwork as the table's gilded legs. They rested on an ornate carpet, embellished with an eye wrenching snake motif that covered most of the dark wooden floors. A high window above his bed made of stained glass sent sparkles of light dancing across the walls. All in all it was breathtaking.

Then a feeling of pressure in his lower abdomen started to grow painful. He decided to relieve himself while surveying the bathroom. Basically, the bathroom exactly the same design as the bedroom with a green marble standing bathtub and a silver washbasin in front of a huge mirror. The boy stopped in front of the large mirror and stared at his pale complexion. He had silvery blonde hair, mercury colored eyes and a small round nose with freckles flecked across its bridge.

The boy stood there staring until he heard a loud knock at his door. Walking to let whomever it was in, the intruder burst into the room without even waiting for the boy's reply. The man strode right up to the silver haired boy and smirked down at him. The man was almost as fancy as the room, wearing a dark green cloak with silver lining and a coat that was decorated in perfect unison with the large carpet, in fact he felt sure that in the man stood against the walls he would melt into them flawlessly.

The boy looked up into his deep azure eyes. Abruptly his pulse started to quicken and his breath shortened. He got the impression he had seen this man- well, more like teenager- somewhere before. His handsome face, blue eyes and black hair pulled something from the boys lost memories- a feeling, actually- a feeling of the deepest fear. He knew this man was powerful, he could practically see the magic rolling off him in waves. When he finally looked at the boy something flashed in his dark blue eyes, but was gone before the boy could determine what it was. A broad smile spread over his face to reveal pearly white teeth. The smile did not reach his cold, emotionless eyes.

"And how are you feeling? You took quite a knock to the head, Michael." Was he addressing me? The boy thought foolishly as he looked over his shoulder to see if someone else was secretly hiding behind the curtains. The name "Michael" didn't feel right, but since it was the only one he had been offered he took it.

"I guess so," the boy replied. "I don't remember anything though, not even my name." He rubbed his forehead for emphasis. The tall man stepped closer.

"Oh my, is that so?" He said feigning concern. "Well, I guess I will just have to reintroduce you to your life. Your name is Michael and I am your brother Lord Voldemort." The boy's face remained neutral except for one eyebrow cocked almost to his silvery hairline.

"But we look nothing alike, how could we be brothers?" Lord Voldemort looked for a moment as if anger would overtake him, but then a broad grin spread over his unblemished face.

"You have always been such a silly boy, my dear brother." He patted Michael's head awkwardly, as if touching the boy might contaminate him of leprosy. As if confirming Michael's thoughts Lord Voldemort absently whipped his hand on his cloak. Michael, if that's my real name, he thought, highly doubted that this imposter ever made contact with children and even more vehemently doubted that this lord was his brother. He decided to play along anyway, what would it hurt? He said as seriously as he could,

"Why can't I remember anything, sweet, kind, oh-so caring brother?" The veins in Voldemort's forehead started to pulse alarmingly and his eyes blazed with unbridled hatred, but through it all he maintained his glued-on smile.

"You fell off your horse yesterday, your memories will hopefully be coming back soon. But until then, how about breakfast on your balcony?" Michael plastered on a smile just as fake and relied that he would very much like to do that. Seeing the hatred, animosity and awkwardness this man showed towards him made Michael feel slightly more lighthearted. Why? Well, from the looks of his room there wasn't going to be much entertainment around this place, but the prospect of tormenting Lord Voldemort turned the mansion into the Quidditch World Cup.

"Are you sure? No one named Felix came in last night or this morning? Could you check again?" Ginny leaned over the chipped wooden countertop for the fifth time only to achieve further annoying the balding clerk. His thin oily mustache twitched with frustration as he gave the redheaded woman a snarling smile.

"Nooo, for the hundredth time, no." He drawled clearly annoyed with their waterfall of questions. The clerk held up his hands to the twenty-pound note Draco had slipped onto the counter from under his palm. "Please, you're only wasting your time. I suggest checking the last place you saw him or perhaps, if he has a cell phone, calling him. Anything to get you away from my desk." He added gruffly.

The whole time he had been eyeing the money in Draco's hand greedily. Finally his avarice overcame his politeness and he hastily grabbed it, stuffing it in his moth-eaten suit jacket. Draco scowled so darkly that the obnoxious clerk winced and slowly pulled the note out of his jacket pocket and offered it back grudgingly. Draco snatched it violently giving a low menacing growl.

"Down Draco." Ginny muttered rolling her eyes. He cooled slightly. Ginny was starting to get a migraine just behind her eyes from dealing with these two for nearly an hour. "Let's go, he was obviously never here." She shot the concierge her own scowl before turning back to Draco and leading him out of the Hotel Horus House.

She was on the verge of tears at their failure and they had only been at this for a few agonizingly long hours. Her mind was so panicked, whirling with doubts and fears. Pictures of her beloved Felix bruised and broken lying in a ditch somewhere or being hurt by former deatheaters kept gluing themselves to her minds eye. It was almost more than she could take. Apart of her wanted to curl up in a soft bed, cover her head with a blanket and just let the darkness consume her. But that was a tiny almost nonexistent part of her, the majority of her wanted- needed- to find Felix no matter what it took. She would tear this city apart piece by piece if she had to, and it looked like she might have to.

Instead of letting the tears slip past her eyelids she sucked them back in and flexed her jaw. She would not cry in front of Draco. Ok, so maybe she was acting a bit childish, but she didn't care. She didn't want to show Draco a crack in her strength- her pride would never allow it. She stiffened her resolve and she said a little louder than she meant, "Where should we look next?" They had looked down the streets she had sent Felix down the night before, but had found nothing. Just walking down those twisting ally's made Ginny feel desperate, alone, and most of all horribly guilty. She should have kept Felix with her, and then they would be together right now. Draco would know that he had a son and that Ginny still loved him. They'd probably be out to ice cream instead of desperately searching buildings and streets for signs of a skirmish. That made the feeling of wanting to crawl in a corner grow considerably larger.

They were just sitting down for a short rest when something snatched the breath from her lungs before she even had a chance to inhale. Her eyes widened and she blinked rapidly trying to make him disappear. He was walking leisurely down the sandy road as if he didn't have a care in the world, looking at the merchant's products like he was actually interested.

Suddenly, Ginny felt a hand on her arm and she jumped like the first leap of a chocolate frog. She turned to meet Draco's concerned mercury eyes.

"Something wrong, Gin? You look like you've just seen…" his voice trailed off as his scanning eyes found what had frightened Ginny. His eyes darkened and his face became hauntingly neutral hiding every emotion flawlessly behind a well-practiced cold mask. It was something he had honed to perfection during his torturous childhood with his abusive father, Lucius Malfoy. It had taken years to teach Draco how to show some sort emotion on his face and now he was back to the expressionless face of a hawk.

"You…you see him too, don't you?" She whispered shakily. He gave a slight nod. Ginny's hand was trembling, but she made herself turn slightly so she could get a good look at him.

Tom Riddle, the future Lord Voldemort, was buying a bushel of sprouts form an eager merchant. Suddenly he turned and looked directly at them, giving them a friendly smile, something that definitely didn't fit his painfully handsome face. The most frightening thing was that it looked genuine.