Once again, this comes really late and for that I apologize repeatedly! Loads of thanks to the reviewers! Those lovely words are rocket fuel to my writing! Well, here goes the next chapter, I hope you like it…

Chapter 5

A sudden string of loud, hurried knocks startle him, his elegantly penned 'e' morphing into a horribly disfigured cross between a 'y' and a 'z'. Lucius cursed as he lay down his quill and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"What!" he barked at the door of his office.

"Father – " started Draco.

"Tell your mother that no, she is not to convert the Lower West Wing into another wardrobe. Why, in Merlin's name can't she just shrink her robes? Anyone would think her a Squib the way she carries on so… Honestly…" Lucius cut him off impatiently, assuming the reason for his interruption. He moved to recover his quill.

As he spoke, Draco pushed open the door to step inside.

"As bad as Mother's robe collection is, there is something a lot worse in the sitting room." Draco told his father with a grimace.

Lucius glanced up from his letter, confusion painting his face.

"Ms. Riddle is here." Draco stated simply.

The older man's complexion went from its usual pale porcelain to a color remarkably similar to that of the Gringott's building in Diagon Alley. In an instant he was up and out the door.

"Why wasn't I notified when she entered the gate? I have wards up all over the estate!" he muttered angrily as he brushed past his son.

"She didn't even use the door, never mind the bloody gate…" Draco muttered more to himself as he trailed after his father.

"Mr. Malfoy." Hermione said with a polite nod of her head as he approached her.

She stood before the front door with her hands clasped. Her wavy framed her pale face. Heavy, deep navy cloaked her body, clasped with a sparkling onyx stone at her throat. Her red lips pursed pleasantly and her dark eyes were indecipherable. Hermione was without doubt the embodiment of a perfect Pureblood upbringing.

Lucius smiled tightly, looking to all as though it pained him to do so. Both himself and Draco wore the same mask of feigned chivalry as she did, Lucius' looking more forced than his son's.

"Miss Riddle… So lovely to have you here. You saw yourself in the gate?" Lucius asked, immensely annoyed at being caught off-guard and also deathly curious as to why his wards had not alerted him when the girl entered his grounds.

Hermione smiled pleasantly as she answered, knowing full-well how irritated the older Malfoy was for being bested by a young girl. Although, technically, breaching the wards had been her father's doing.

"It was raining." She said silkily.

Lucius swallowed thickly, suppressing the urge to snarl at the insolent little girl. Before any of them could continue with their charade of decorum, the Malfoy men felt their Marks burning. Draco winced involuntarily, still not entirely used to the sensation of the pain that twisted deep in the bone of his forearm. Lucius remained stoic, although his grip on his cane tightened discretely.

Hermione watched the two for a moment, with something akin to amusement in her eyes. She had been anticipating this.

"The Dark Lord calls." She informed them, businesslike, before Dissaparating with a loud crack.

"Any word?"

Ginny Weasley glanced up from her book. Her eyes met with green and she smiled grimly, shaking her head. Harry's face fell, if possible, even more. She sighed and patted the space next to her on the couch invitingly. Slowly, he made his way over to her, his face etched with worry and fatigue. It pained her to see him like this. She knew he'd been having nightmares again and was getting little sleep. And with no answer to any of the owls they had sent Hermione since they parted at King's Cross last June…

She placed her book down and reached out to put her arms around Harry as he sat beside her, hugging him tightly.

"I'm sure she's fine, Harry. She probably went abroad with her parents and hasn't had the chance owl. We'll hear from her soon, don't worry."

Her words were quiet and surer than she felt. She pulled back with a small, reassuring smile, her eyes searching his face. Harry remained motionless, staring unseeingly straight ahead at the carpet. Her smile faded. It was getting harder and harder to talk to Harry, who seemed to withdraw into himself further and further every day.

"Harry?"

He glanced at her for a moment, his eyes indecipherable, before returning to stare at the carpet.

"Yeah, Ginny. You're probably right…" He finally said, his voice quiet and lacking conviction.

Ginny released him and sat back in the couch silently, moving to retrieve her book.

Sudden commotions made the both of them glance sharply towards the doorway. Instantly they were both on their feet, wands drawn.

"Kitchen" Harry nodded towards the door, his voice low and dangerous.

Nodding, Ginny followed him, her heart clenched with fear, wand at the ready. The house had gone silent as they made their way down the hall towards the kitchen, their eyes darting left and right.

"PUT THOSE BLASTED THINGS AWAY BEFORE SOMEONE LOOSES AN EYE!"

The barking voice caused both of them to jump and Ginny let loose a small scream. Mad-Eyed Moody emerged then and stalked out of the kitchen, brushing past them, obviously in a foul mood. Good mood or bad, Moody was a welcome sight and the two relaxed visibly, although their breathing was still a little heavy. Stashing their wands away, they were about to enter the kitchen when they stopped short. There, standing in the middle of the kitchen, thoroughly drenched and shivering was Blaise Zabini with Molly Weasley trying to put a warm towel over his wet shoulders.

The two gaped openly.

"Zabini?! What the fuck are you doing here??" Ron roared, having heard the commotion and just dashed down the stairs, wand still drawn.

"LANGUAGE RONALD!" Mrs. Weasley roared back at him, pausing from trying to get Blaise to sit down.

Blaise seemed nearly delirious, pacing the kitchen and shivering uncontrollably while shrugging off all Mrs. Weasley's attempts and calming the poor boy down. He didn't even seem to have heard the fuming Ron. Mrs. Weasley threw down the towel in exasperation, leaving the kitchen with mutterings of a Calming Drought.

Then, Moody shoved his way through the dumbfounded trio in the doorway roughly, a bottle of firewhisky in hand. He made his way past Blaise and reached for a tumbler from a cabinet. Settling himself down on a stool at the kitchen counter, he spared a glance at the Slytherin as he poured the alcohol.

"You-Know-Who attacked his house. Got him out just in time." Moody grunted in explanation before downing the entire tumbler, grimacing as he did.

"They s-s-said they w-were going t-to t-t-talk…" Blaise muttered, shaking his head vigorously, his teeth chattering as his continued to pace.

Everyone looked at him, silent and waiting for him to go on. He didn't seem to see them. He stared at the ground unseeingly, as if behind his eyes he were replaying whatever hell he'd been through.

"I-I didn't j-j-join… I-I said n-no… F-f-ucking c-c-coward!" He swore at himself, angry now and still shivering terribly.

"Blaise- " Ginny started towards him, trying to calm him down.

The two boys still stood at the doorway, neither seeming to notice that Ginny was nearing the suspicious boy.

Blaise stopped suddenly, his eyes wide, terrified and staring straight ahead of him. His breathing became shallow. Ginny froze.

"T-they took her… T-t-they…"

His voice was barely a whisper, tears rolled down his pale cheeks and his breathing became even more labored. His face contorted with pain and his cheat heaved with the effort of breathing.

"Blaise…" Ginny started slowly again.

Without another word, he collapsed with a 'thud' on floor, Ginny rushing instantly to his side and the two boys to hers.

Moody grunted and threw back another tumbler of whisky.