Ginny blinked slowly. Her red hair fell in front of her face and contrasted brilliantly with the gray of the room, and as she lay there, she let her eyes shift in and out of focus. When she stared at the peeling paper on the wall past her hair, the image looked red-gold. It began to blur and run, and Ginny realized that she was crying again. She felt like a shell. Ginny picked up her arm, half surprised that it moved, and wiped her eyes. Slowly she sat up and instantly wished that she was a shell—her body hurt. Her neck and back ached from the night on the hard floor, and both arms still hurt with the sting of Draco's grasp from the previous day.
Ginny crept over to the windowsill, rubbing her sore neck. The sun was gently casting glowing yellows and pinks across the grounds of the Manor. The park extended as far as Ginny could see, with manicured lawns and gardens leading into a rather pleasant looking forest. She gave the sash a halfhearted tug, knowing it would be sound. Besides, she was three stories up. Instead, she sighed, propped her chin in her hands, and pulled her hair back in front of her eyes. Green and red, green and red . . .
"Draco," Pansy simpered, "Draco, where are you going?"
Draco glanced at the dark haired witch in his bed. She sat up and gave him a truly pathetic look that he was sure she meant to be endearing, complete with big eyes and a pouty lip. With some girls, this method worked on the younger master Malfoy, but Draco had known Pansy far too long. He rolled his eyes and turned back to his armoire to finish buttoning a gray Oxford. He sat on the bed to adjust his sleeves and within seconds, Pansy was at his neck.
"Would you leave off, witch?" he snapped, "I haven't time for you."
"You had plenty of time last night," Pansy cooed, snaking her arms around his waist and toying with the lowest button. Draco brushed her away and stood up.
"Yes. I did. And now I don't. If you're going to be clingy, Pans, then we're through. We have an arrangement, remember?"
Pansy's face went from questionable pout to unmistakable anger. "Oh, sure I remember. But we're not really that friendly and I do not comprehend the so-called benefits."
Draco responded to her anger with indifference. "You seemed to comprehend them well enough last night, which is exactly the reason I can shag you and leave you, even after all of these years. So shove it, Pans. Get dressed and get out of here. I've got very important business, and Daphne is coming by later." He finished dressing, ignoring the glower from the bed.
Realizing that he would continue to ignore her, Pansy tried a different tack. She sat up and lazily began to walk through the room, putting on her clothes as she found them. "You know, Draco, I don't know what you see in Greengrass."
"Well, I'm dating her, Pansy. Not you. Start there."
"But then why have me over for the occasional shag? If she is so wonderful, then why Floo me periodically in the middle of the night?" She saw Draco stiffen for a moment, but he turned with a smirk.
"Pansy . . . what kind of Malfoy would I be if I didn't have a girl on the side? If you want someone loyal, go find a Hufflepuff. If what I hear about them is true, you'll come crawling back to my bed in a fortnight." He clasped the Malfoy crest on his cloak and turned back to the mirror. "Get lost, Pansy. I'll call you when I want you again."
"Bastard," she hissed as she walked out of the door. For a moment she thought of betraying him—a few choice memories in a pensieve left for Daphne—revenge would be sweet. But then he would hate her, and that would never do, and there was a very good chance that Daph knew. If she was Daph, she'd know and keep her mouth shut. So she quietly left the room.
"Miss Parkinson," asked Mr. Malfoy coolly meeting Pansy in the front hall, "I trust you slept well?"
Pansy hadn't the grace to blush. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy, sir. The comforts of the Manor are sublime." She smiled sweetly.
"And if you are here, then Draco must be out of bed. Good day, Miss Parkinson." With a smirk not unlike his son's, Lucius left Pansy to Apparate home and headed to Draco's study.
Despite his son's habit of having multiple girlfriends, Lucius was proud of him. Draco was handsome, charming, and ruthless. What more could a man want from his progeny? He entered the room to find his son already at work. Casually, Lucius picked up a photo of Daphne that sat on the edge of the desk. She beamed up at him and winked.
"You know, Draco, you better have a plan for Pansy. If she should tell tale to Daphne things could go badly for you."
"Oh, that's all taken care of." Draco was absorbed in papers on his desk and didn't see his Father's raised brow. "Daphne and I have an agreement, and Daphne is too smart to argue with me about Pans. She knows as well as Pansy that the company I keep is not up for debate." He dropped his quill and looked up at his father. "Has the post come?"
"Yes." Lucius threw the paper onto Draco's desk and sat down opposite him. Draco smirked at the headline: Potter Killed by Death Eaters! Panicked Wizards Riot at Ministry!
"So, it worked in our favor, hm? How is the ministry today?" Draco glanced at his father, whose eyes glinted with a scheming cold delight.
"Closed until further notice. If you read on, you'll learn that over one hundred of those fools lost their lives, both rioters and ministry officials, upon learning that their invincible golden boy is dead. It is actually better than we could have planned. It is likely that they will enact some sort of emergency government and then hold general elections later in the year. If we encourage this chaos and bide our time, this could be most opportune." Lucius glanced at his timepiece. "Speaking of chaos, have you seen to the girl?" Draco let out an irritated sigh.
"I don't see why that chore is my responsibility. I've had Pansy to deal with, so no."
"The Dark Lord wants to see her today. She will be questioned and he'll decide what to do with her. She was in a pathetic state last evening and I'm sure she's worse now. He may have her killed, but even though she comes from a blood traitor family she does have pure blood, and he may want her alive. Go ensure that she's ready." He arched an eyebrow as Draco opened his mouth to protest. "Don't you dare argue. You might not answer to Miss Greengrass or Miss Parkinson, but you do answer to me." He stood and stalked out of the room, cloak billowing behind him.
Draco sighed as he lifted his wand to remove the wards. It wasn't that he minded seeing the witch again. She was easy on the eyes and a pure blood to boot. He had enjoyed pressing her against the wall, seeing the fire in her eyes, and hearing her little gasp. No, Draco didn't mind seeing the Weasley girl at all. Maybe he could even have a little fun with her.
Ginny had given up on the tears. They kept clouding her view of the park but she let them be. She imagined that she was a princess in a fairy tale, exploring those peaceful woods. If she squinted she could see herself, a red headed little figure, darting in and out of the trees.
A bang from the door sent her flying. She hopped to her feet and turned around to see Draco enter the room. He advanced toward her but she backed away.
"Good morning, little traitor. Did you sleep well?" Draco's voice was once again dangerously kind, and Ginny stared at him with wide brown eyes. She did have pretty eyes, he noticed. "Not going to answer me? That'll never do. You're going to answer a lot of questions today, and it would be a shame if you started off on the wrong foot." He had backed her into a corner. She dodged to the right, then the left, but Draco put his arms on the walls and penned her in.
"Merlin, little girl, you are a mess." Ginny's hair was matted and hanging in her eyes, and her face and arms were smeared with dirt from the dusty room. "I suppose I'll have to clean you up." He reached for his wand. Like lightening, Ginny jumped into action. Dodging his arm, she grabbed for the wand and grabbed the tip.
"No, you bastard. I did not sleep well. Satisfied?" Ginny could feel how strong Draco's magic was behind his wand, but her own strength was surging back as well. She was certainly not a Weasley for nothing. She used her other arm to grab his wrist and began to pry the wand away from him, for once glad that she was the youngest of so many brothers. Unfortunately, she forgot about his free hand, and found herself on her knees, wandless. Draco crouched down in front of her and bound her hands with a simple spell.
"You do not break easily, do you? I think my father had you chalked up as defeated." Ginny gave him her fiercest look.
"No," Ginny spat, "I don't. I mean, I won't." Her sudden snap back to reality was accompanied by adrenaline, and as the past night came flooding into Ginny's mind, she resolved to not become that shell again. Yes, most of her family and friends were dead, but not all, and she was alive.
Draco touched his wand to her cheek and Ginny shrank back, but he just uttered a Scourgify charm. He pulled her up to her feet and stepped back, giving her a long glance. Ginny was suddenly aware of her appearance—she was still in Hermione's old clothes from two days ago, her hair was tangled, and she felt grimy despite Draco's charm. Self-consciously she hugged her arms around her chest and looked up at him. He lifted an eyebrow and uttered a few more words, and she found herself wearing a simple green dress. Draco stepped toward her again and touched her hair.
"I need to find a house elf to take care of this. I'm afraid I've never studied charms for feminine hair." He let his hand travel down her cheek and over her collarbone to the strap of the dress. "You know, darling . . ." he drawled, and Ginny caught her breath and stepped away. She could handle nights of sleeping on the floor and she was pretty sure she could handle torture, but if Malfoy decided to follow through on what she was pretty sure was going on in his mind . . . she decided to stop thinking about it.
Lucius Malfoy could feel the Mark beginning to burn. Across the breakfast table, Narcissa Malfoy could tell that it was bothering him. "Just go, Lucius. Staving him off does no one good." She poured herself another cup of tea. "You are bringing Draco, aren't you? And that Weasley girl?"
Lucius nodded and stood. "Be back soon, my dear."
He arrived at Ginny's holding room in time to watch the house elf finish her hair. The girl was eating a muffin like she hadn't eaten for weeks, not days, but she glared at him when he walked in.
"My, this is a change. Draco?"
"Our traitor has informed me that she will not break. Ever. As though it's a challenge." Draco smirked, and Ginny wished she had her wand. A bunch of bat bogeys would be terribly satisfying.
"I see. Is she ready?" Lucius asked, less entertained. The Mark was growing more painful. "Take her side-along, and be careful not to splinch her. I do need her whole."
Draco nodded and produced a dark cloak for Ginny. He pulled her close and Ginny was suddenly aware of how strong Draco Malfoy was. Then, just as suddenly, she felt the squeeze of apparition and the coldness of a dank, dark hall.
Lucius told Draco to wait with her and disappeared through the large doors at the end of the vast hall. Ginny could hear the raucous greeting he received and the terrible cackling laughter of a few deranged Death Eaters. She quailed and gripped Draco, then quickly let go.
"Where are we?" she whispered.
He stepped behind her and whispered in her ear, "Where do you think, darling?" Ginny hated the way he was calling her that. She felt her fear gathering into knots in her stomach, so she took a deep breath and tried to make them disappear, but the doors were thrown open and Ginny was drawn forward.
The Death Eaters laughed and jeered, their faces twisted into dark excuses for expressions and their voices mercilessly cruel.
"Such a pretty little . . . muddy traitor . . . look at her . . . what I wouldn't . . . remember her mother—how she screamed? . . . I want . . ."
They moved apart and Ginny saw Lucius standing on a dais, and on a throne . . . Voldemort. His appearance was more disgusting than Ginny remembered. He didn't look remotely human anymore. He leered at her, then snarled,
"Well, Ginevra Weasley. A member of the Order of the Phoenix. You grace us with your presence." Ginny felt her knees give way. Was she under the Imperius curse and didn't realize it? Or was she just that afraid? She couldn't be that afraid. She was a Weasley. She was brave.
Voldemort continued, "We are hunting the Order, Miss Weasley. You have seen our love for . . . hunting." Ginny couldn't help but flinch. "But I'm afraid we've run out of trails."
He stood and walked forward until he was standing in front of her. "Tell, me, Ginevra, where I can find your brother, Charles." Ginny looked up at him, resolute and silent. "Or your friends; Remus Lupin perhaps? Nymphdora Tonks? Kingsley Shacklebolt?" Ginny said nothing, and the Death Eaters began to jeer again, swirling in a mass of angry chaos. It was as though they fed upon the disorder.
Voldemort turned to Lucius and called over the crowd, "Take her to the back room and administer the serum."
Lucius hauled Ginny roughly to her feet and dragged her away, as Voldemort joined the dark crowd.
The back room was a smaller chamber, just as dark. It smelled of mildew. Lucius removed a small phial from his robe and grabbed Ginny's head. He tipped it up and forced the contents into her mouth with practiced expertise and held her there until she swallowed. "I'm sure you are aware of the effects of Veritaserum?"
"Yes" Ginny found that she couldn't help but reply. It was frightening.
"What is your full name?"
"Ginevra Molly Weasley."
"And how do you feel right now?" Fine! Ginny wanted to yell, perfectly fine! Instead, "Frightened."
Lucius smiled, and she became even more frightened. I am brave, she thought as Voldemort entered the room. He looked questioningly at Lucius, who nodded. Grinning maniacally, the Dark Lord turned to Ginny.
"Where are the other members of the Order of the Phoenix?"
Brave. "I don't know."
Voldemort shrieked and turned to Lucius, who responded, "It is possible, my Lord. Ginevra is young and was at school until a few weeks ago. Her family may have protected her from specific knowledge."
Voldemort narrowed his eyes as though he planned to drill into Ginny's skull."Is Lucius correct?"
"Yes." Ginny squirmed.
"What do you know about the Order?"
"I know the location of the safe house," she gasped, feeling suddenly nauseated as she remembered finding Harry there, cold on the floor.
Voldemort laughed. "Not so safe, is it? Do you know who the secret keeper was?"
She struggled to tell as little truth as possible. "No."
"Do you know if the others are still in England?"
"No." Ginny was beginning to feel very dizzy. The effects of the grotesque man, the dank room, and fighting the overwhelming Veritaserum were taking a toll. Brave.
"Do you know any details of the Order's plan?"
"To find and destroy the Horcruxes. I don't know how, or what they are." Ginny wavered, and then collapsed on the floor in a dead faint.
When she began to come to, she recognized that she'd only been unconscious for a few moments. She carefully kept her eyes closed.
"Well, Lucius, what shall we do with her? She clearly knows nothing new to us, and my followers are clamoring to have her as a plaything."
She felt Lucius bend over to pick her up and did her best to act as lifeless as possible.
"My lord, she is a pure blood. Despite her traitor status, I do not think it would be fitting to give her to that crowd." Ginny remained limp, but her blood ran cold. Give her to the Death Eaters?
"Yes, you are right. It is a shame though, because the other chit is useful, and after their work the other night they will grow angry if I deprive them."
"Let them raid, my Lord. It will only solidify the fear of the Wizarding world if they continue to wreak havoc, and surely it will satiate them. I'll take this one back to Malfoy Manor. Mayhap she will be useful."
Lucius walked out of the room and Ginny peered through her lashes. Draco was leaning against the wall near the door, watching the insanity with a look of disdainful amusement.
"Thank Merlin you're done, Father. If Aunt Bella asked me one more time to . . . " He noticed Ginny. "So she's alive?"
"Yes, and coming back with us. I have a feeling that we'll need her before we're through."
Ginny barely registered any of this. Her mind was still reeling from Voldemort's words: "The other chit is useful."