Oaths and Allegiances
***********************************************
PROLOGUE
Smoke filled the battlefield and hung in the air, thick and putrid. The stench from hundreds of spells hitting flesh filled his nose as he made his way through the bodies, looking for a glimpse of Pansy and Blaise.
Before he could register the sound and dodge the beam of light, a Slashing spell hit him and he crumpled to the ground in pain. Curse after curse hit him and he was sure that he was screaming; in fact, he could hear himself, as if from a distance, but was unable to stop it. He wasn't even sure that the spells weren't coming from his side. At this point, he didn't trust anyone.
A voice rang out in the fog, clear and bell-like, stopping his assailant, he supposed. The pain was no longer so great. When he was able to open his eyes again, he found himself into Ginny Weasley’s concerned brown eyes.
“Get up, Malfoy, you’re embarrassing yourself,” she said as she hauled him up and dragged him to the shelter of a nearby building.
Draco looked at her quizzically. Shouldn’t you be stopping me?” he asked her. “Death Eater, and all that?”
“Stopping you from what?” she asked wryly. “Watching your friends’ backs? Throwing up impediment charms when the higher-ups of your outfit have someone captured? Healing wounds on the battlefield?” She scoffed. “Why would I stop that, Malfoy? You’re a greater asset to the Order of the Phoenix than some of our actual members.”
“I don’t do all that.”
She laughed. “Okay.”
“I don’t.”
“Whatever it takes to get you through the day, Malfoy,” she said, rolling her eyes.
He scowled at her and raised his sleeve, baring the arm that held the Dark Mark. “If you’re in doubt, little girl, as to what I actually am, here’s your proof.”
Ginny gave a cursory look at the lines on his forearm, and shrugged. “I have a butterfly on my arse,” she said, unimpressed. “Do I like butterflies? I did when I was seventeen. I’m rather over them, now.”
Draco re-buttoned his sleeve and looked at her skeptically.
She wore an blank expression. “Right. I have to go. Don’t get yourself killed, Malfoy. You’ve been a huge help. We’d hate to lose you,” she quipped over her shoulder.
And then she disappeared into the smoke.
Draco sat still for a moment puzzling at what had just happened to him. The Weasley girl had likely saved his life.
***
As the months dragged on, so did the war. Ginny noticed on more than one occasion after that incident that it felt as if she were being watched. Every so often, she knew that she felt someone's eyes on her back, but when she'd turn around, no one was there. It irked her, and one afternoon she got so fed up that she pulled a complicated little move that she had learned from Fred and doubled back on the man following her.
She couldn't stop the smirk that crept onto her face when she realized who it was.
Sneaking up behind him, she whispered, "You're spectacularly bad at stealth, you know."
Startled, Draco turned around and scowled. "Am not."
"Are so." Ginny shrugged. "But you can lie to yourself if you like. I think it's cute, Malfoy."
"I am not cute."
Ginny grinned at him and shivered as a sharp wind seemed to blow right through her cloak. "Are so."
Draco frowned. "Do you want to get a cup of tea?" he asked, pointing to a shop across the road from them.
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Is this the sort of thing they teach you in Death Eater intimidation school? If so, you might want to change the curriculum. It's really not scary at all. Not even a little bit."
Draco bit back a chuckle and looked at her, amused. "Not even a little? I got really high marks on intimidation and terror."
Ginny nodded. "Oh, yes. I changed my mind. You're truly frightening," she replied, laughing. "But I really have to finish my patrol and get back."
Draco's face morphed into a scowl and he exhaled heavily. "Listen Weasley. You're at the corner of Fuck and All and no one in that shop will recognize me. Or you, for that matter."
"It's not a matter of being recognized."
"Oh?" Draco asked. "What is it a matter of then? I'm not asking you to commit to a binding ceremony, Weasley. I'm asking you to tea."
She looked at him for a long moment. "Alright," she replied slowly. "A cup of tea sounds lovely, thanks."
He nodded his approval, and strolled over to open the door of the shop, gesturing towards the inside. "After you."
George is bound to pop out and say 'gotcha' at any second, she thought to herself. Looking up at Draco's face as she passed by him, entering the warmth of the shop, she smiled. But I rather hope not.
****
Every few days he'd pop out of nowhere and they would exchange pleasantries. Ginny found that she liked him a great deal. He was cordial, and even charming on occasion. He conversed easily, although they had to stick to neutral topics for the most part. She learned that he was fiercely loyal to his friends, and that he'd do anything to protect them.
On her rotation to patrol the town and surrounding villages and ruins of Bath, she ran into him unexpectedly, yet again.
"Fancy meeting you here," she commented
"Oh, yes, well I live--" He stopped abruptly, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "I forget I can't say anything to you."
She nodded. "Yes. That happens to me, too."
"I'll just stop talking. That fixes that."
"Or you could switch sides," she suggested. "Then you could talk to me all you like."
"Is that all it would take?"
"No," Ginny replied with a grin. "But it would certainly make it easier."
He smiled lazily and leaned against the wall of a building. "Easy isn't always better, Ginny. Sometimes it's just easy."
"Would you prefer difficult then?" she countered, tipping her face up to his.
"Honestly?"
"Preferably."
"I'd prefer whichever gets me you." He leaned down and gazed at her intently, his face just centimetres away from his, and brought his hand up to touch the soft skin of her cheek. His fingertips tangled in her hair as he closed the space between them, his lips fixed a gentle pressure on hers, teasing and brushing until she took hold of the collar of his robes and pulled him down and claimed his mouth, taking his bottom lip, sucking and biting it lightly, swirling her tongue with his in a dizzying dance of pleasure.
She pulled back and smiled at the slightly dazed look on his face. "Difficult enough for you?"
Draco nodded, pulling her back to finish what she'd started.
From an alleyway adjacent to where the couple were standing, a man stood and watched, displeased. Very, very displeased. He bared his teeth, ran a hand through his hair, and Disapparated.
**************************************
CHAPTER ONE
Ginny crouched low behind the fountain at the end of High Street that commemorated the death of Voldemort, her breath coming in shortened gasps. The starry night sky lit up Hogsmeade; the beams of light from the random curses cast ethereal red and green glows over the deserted streets and abandoned shops. Just because the leader was dead didn't mean that his followers were going to follow meekly. Ginny flinched as a jet of red light narrowly missed her, and she ducked down just a bit more. Turning, she fired a Blasting Curse at her attacker, and heard a yelp for her trouble as the spell clipped his shoulder.
Take that you bastard, she thought, her face set in a grim expression.
When the members of the Order of the Phoenix Apparated into the fray, they had been met with an already bloody battle. The shopkeepers and townspeople obviously weren’t going to concede to the Death Eaters without a fight. Madame Puddifoot was battling well; Dolohov looked to have a face full of boils and was on the ground writhing in pain. Mr. Scrivenshaft flung curse after curse from the doorway of his shop, his small gnarled form hunched and ducking return curses like a man half his age. Good for you, Ginny thought. Give them hell.
She cast two more gouging charms in quick succession and before she could roll out of the way, a masked Death Eater backed her into the fountain; freezing water soaked the back of her robes and the stone bit into her back painfully. The man squeezed her wand arm so tightly that she was sure that there would be a mark. He beat her wrist against the lip of the fountain, and her stomach dropped as she heard the clatter of her wand hitting the pavement below her feet. She could see Harry out of the corner of her eye and Neville next to him, both engaged with targets of their own. No one was coming to save her this time.
The attacker leaned into Ginny, breathing heavily and pressing her further against the stone slab housing the pool of water. He shoved his knee between her legs and she could smell the foul breath coming from behind the man’s Death Eater mask.
“Ain't you a pretty ickle fing, then?” he rasped into her ear. “Might ‘ave to ‘ave a bit o’ fun wiv you ‘afore ay kill ya, pigeon. ‘Ow's that sound, eh?” he asked huskily, nuzzling her neck with his mask askew, the days worth of growth rubbing against her face uncomfortably.
Ginny opened her mouth to scream, and the man in front of her mirrored her expression, mocking me, she thought idly, and raised her eyebrows in surprise, momentarily frozen, as she watched the man fall over, his stiff and Petrified eyes staring straight ahead, features still arranged in a lecherous leer.
Ginny quickly picked up her wand and crouched low again; she looked in the direction that she thought her attacker's curse had come from and saw nothing. She turned slightly and caught the edge of a black cloak disappearing down the alleyway between Zonko's and Gladrags.
Running stealthily, she followed the figure, arriving at the mouth of the alley just as she heard the soft pop of Apparition.
“Thank you,” she said to the empty spot where the person had been, and then turned quickly, running to re-join the fight.
************************************************
The members of the Order of the Phoenix were a ragtag group as they staggered back to Grimmauld Place, some cut and bloody, some inured more seriously, all tired beyond belief.
Ginny sustained only bruises and scrapes, so she helped get the more seriously injured witches and wizards to the makeshift infirmary, where the healer on duty was busy mending broken bones and weaving lacerations back together, but he was never too busy for a quick exchange with his favorite redhead.
“Hello, lass,” said Cormac McLaggen, his handsome features arranged in an enigmatic smile, winking at her as he pulled bandages from the pocket of his green healer’s robes and flicked them around Neville’s injured wrist. Cormac flashed her a row of even, white teeth and asked, “When will you let me take you away from all this, mmm?” He sidled up to her as he finished watching the bandages bind the wound, and put his arm around her, leaning her into a dramatic dip, his nose mere inches from hers, blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
She smiled at him and shook her head. “Cormac. You never give up, do you?”
“Yeah, McLaggen,” came Neville’s voice from the exam table. “If Gin were going to date someone, it’d be me. And I’m right here.
Cormac didn’t so much as spare a glance for Neville. “You don’t stand a chance, Longbottom.”
Neville huffed. “I stand as much of a chance as you do, you ponce,” he muttered under his breath. “Oi, McLaggen! Are you going to finish this or what?” he asked angrily, waving his injured wrist in the air.
Cormac ignored Neville and brushed his nose with Ginny’s, leaning her down a fraction of an inch further. “Really, love,” he asked Ginny with a smirk. “Longbottom? You won’t let me show you what a healer’s hands are really capable of?”
Ginny giggled. “Not right this minute, no. Sorry, Cormac.”
Cormac sighed dramatically and swept her back up, spinning her around once. “Very well, lass,” he said in his soft brogue. “I’m hurt, though.”
His mock pout made Ginny smile. “You’ll be the first to know if I change my mind,” she said, putting an arm around Neville and helping him off the exam table.
“Oi,” Neville ground out in exasperation. “What about me? I’d be a much better boyfriend than that berk.”
“Sure you would, Nev, old boy,” Cormac assured him. Winking at Ginny again, he whispered, "No contest."
Neville scowled as he put his good arm around Ginny. “Yeah. Too right there wouldn’t be.”
Ginny grinned at Neville and glanced at Cormac, who’d already turned to attend another patient, as they exited the infirmary. She leaned up to peck Neville’s cheek. “You two are so funny. You ought to take your show on the road, you know.”
“Poncy bastard,” Neville muttered, scowling.
Ginny sighed and walked with him down the corridor to the kitchen, where the Order held their post battle debriefing.
Entering the kitchen, they were hit with a wave of sounds and smells; people talking over each other, the hum a whispered conversations, chairs scraping against the scrubbed wooden floors, the thunk of glasses hitting the table, the tink of cutlery against crockery, and the air was filled with the aroma of what smelled like Molly Weasley's beef stew cooking on the stove top for supper.
Harry looked downtrodden and frustrated, as usual, and Ginny gave his shoulder a squeeze as she walked by. Miles Bletchley looked up from his conversation with Seamus Finnegan and piped up, saying, "Oi! I'd like a little love tap too, eh, Gin?"
Ginny gave a halfhearted laugh, otherwise ignoring Miles and sat down next to Neville, gazing at the other man with a bored expression. The double agent for the Order, Miles had been vouched for by several different sources and had worked for them for almost a year, but she didn't like him. She couldn't put her finger on quite why. Other than he's a smarmy git, she thought.
Miles had repeatedly and persistently asked Ginny to go out with him, and after what seemed like months of politely telling him 'no,' Ginny had started ignoring him completely. It seemed to be working, for the most part. Ginny rolled her eyes as he got up from his seat, obviously coming to sit in the unoccupied chair to her left.
Cormac entered the kitchen just in time and dropped into the chair seconds before Miles got there. "Did I miss anything, love?" he asked, draping his arm on the back of Ginny's chair.
Ginny grinned. "No. No one's started."
"Good," he said, exhaling heavily. "I do so hate to miss the show."
Giving Cormac a look, Miles moved back to his chair and tapped his water glass with a fork. Harry rolled his eyes and Ron sneered behind Miles' back, while George hit him in the back of his jumper with a spitball.
"I have exciting news," Miles said, wincing and running a hand over the back of his neck. "I might've found a way to get you to Parkinson Manor. It'll take some planning, but it'll definitely better for our headquarters than this place," he said looking distastefully at his surroundings.
Harry looked offended, but Ron snorted. "Sure, Neville could disable the wards if we could get there. But it's the Death Eater headquarters, and it's Unplottable, mate. How the hell'd you do that, eh?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Did the secret keeper finally tell you where it is?"
"No," Miles replied sullenly. Parkinson, the bitch, doesn't like me."
Cormac coughed and leaned over to Ginny. "I think I may love her, then."
Ginny nodded. "She can't be all bad."
Miles gave them a disdainful look and said with an air of Father Christmas, "Also, every time I go to Parkinson Manor, which incidentally is where most of the Death Eaters and their associates congregate," he said with a nod of approval at Ron, "I have to be escorted there. The trained monkeys doing this job will be available for capture soon. They're beginning to trust me."
"Which is more than you'll ever be able to say for me," Cormac whispered to Ginny, who giggled behind her hand.
"Who are they?" George asked. "The monkeys in question, I mean."
"Malfoy and Zabini. I would've been able to hand over Parkinson too, she usually tags along with them, but she keeps mouthing off and Dolohov uses her for torture practice . We'll have to wait 'til we take the manor to get her." There was a murmur of approval from all sides, and Miles preened momentarily.
Ginny squirmed uncomfortably. "Malfoy's never killed anyone, you know."
It seemed as if the the noise in the room stopped and the attention of the entire room fell on Ginny at once.
Harry looked at her strangely. "Yeah? And how do you know that?"
"Um, I've watched him in battle. He never tortures either, and he doesn't use Unforgiveables."
Cormac studied Ginny for a moment. "Since when are you Draco Malfoy's cheering section?" he asked
"I'm not," she said quickly. "Really, I just- I dunno. I don't think he's much of a threat." Turning to Miles, she asked, "Can't you give us the bastard that had me backed up against that fountain today?"
"And which bastard, specifically, would that be?" Miles asked with a sneer.
"I don't know," Ginny spat. "He had a mask on, didn't he?"
"If he had a mask then it could have been Malfoy, couldn't it?"
"It wasn't him," Ginny said in frustration. The bloke's accent was different, and it wasn't his body type..." she trailed off, when the stares from Harry and Ron widened.
Neville jumped up and glared at Miles. "If you've got something to give us, give it. Otherwise back off of Ginny."
Miles raised an eyebrow and shrugged slightly. "Makes no difference to me. One or the other, they're all scum."
Harry nodded. "Agreed. Now tell us. What have you got, exactly? How will we get Malfoy and Zabini?"
Miles smiled and laid out some parchment on the table, placing a large pink stone beside it. "The Oath of Allegiance keeps me from telling you outright all that I know, obviously."
There was a collective eye roll from most of the table.
Cormac looked at Miles. "So you've said. Repeatedly. Every day, for the last year. We know, we've all taken the Oath, as well."
"I can't just tell you everything. You know the consequences for that."
Cormac leaned over an whispered, "Tell me how his death would be a bad thing."
Ginny swatted him playfully. "Yes, Miles. We're all aware of how the Oath of Allegiance works. Unless common knowledge, no one can divulge any information. If you do, it will inevitably lead to death. Blah, blah, blah." After Voldemort's death, it had become standard practice for the Oath of Allegiance to be sworn for both sides. Ginny didn't think that it was such a fantastic thing, it made her clandestine conversations with Draco stilted sometimes, as they had to dance around certain topics. "Moving on?" she continued. "Tell us about this great plan of yours, Miles. We're all waiting with bated breath."
Miles huffed. "Do you know what that is?" he asked, pointing a spindly finger at the smooth, opaque, rose-coloured stone sitting innocently on the table.
Hermione leaned forward. "Oooh. A Chimaera Stone," she whispered. "Where did you get that? They're illegal."
Ron frowned. "What the hell is a Chimaera stone?"
Miles looked smug. "Does it matter where I got it? You can't always win a war by legal means."
Ron looked at Harry. "Do you know what a Chimaera Stone is?"
Harry shrugged.
Hermione folded her arms across her chest and looked stonily at Miles. "They're really dangerous, as you don't know to where you're Apparating; you just know you're following the person who leaves it. Where. Did. You. Get it?" she asked in her most imperious tone.
Miles looked at her sourly. "I go to some rather dark places for my job," he said with an authoritative air. "Does that please her majesty?"
"Oi, you bastard," Ron shouted, glaring at Miles. "What the hell is a Chimaera Stone?"
Everyone looked expectantly at Hermione.
Blushing, she folded her hands in her lap. "The Chimaera Stone is ancient Druidic magic. "It tracks people. By Apparition trails. By the traces of magic left by Apparition. It's inescapable, if used properly."
Ron looked confused.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Person "A" Apparates, and then sends the Chimaera Stone back to the coordinates he Apparated from, thus enabling anyone else to follow him to his destination." She looked at Miles. "Aren't you going to tell us where you got it?"
Miles shrugged. "I run into some unsavory types in my travels about the country."
Cormac leaned over to Ginny. "He is an unsavory type," he whispered.
Ginny giggled half-heartedly and paled, sitting back as everyone else leaned forward, pouring over the schematics. How was she going to get past this? She had to tell Draco, but the Oath of Allegiance was very complex magic. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, thinking of the man that the Order was going to take by force, which would, quite probably end in death. She got up and slipped out of the room. She had places to go and people to warn. Even if it hurt her.
Only one pair of eyes saw her go.
****************************
Later, in another part of the country, a young man walked tiredly back to his rooms; he hadn’t been in the mood for socializing after tonight’s fight. He was tired, sore, and in desperate need of a shower. Running a hand through his white blond hair, he sighed in disgust. Wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t get so horribly dirty every time I went out, he thought, a scowl marring his face.
He silently opened the door to his room, and immediately felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably. Someone was there. In the room. He stood very still, narrowing his eyes, straining to see in the dark. After a moment when his eyes adjusted to the dark of the room, he saw the intruder.
She was asleep. Breathing evenly, her pale skin luminous in the light from the window.
He frowned and set his jaw, walking silently over to the bed, sat down and brushed the girl’s mane of red hair away from her face.
She stirred and opened her eyes sleepily. “’Lo, Draco. Come to bed.”
Draco quirked an eyebrow and sneered. “I don’t think I will, thanks.”
Ginny sat up, propping herself up on her elbows, smiling and rubbing her eyes. “Let me guess. You’re cross with me.”
“Never let it be said that you Gryffindors aren’t clever, as well,” Draco said petulantly, crossing to look out the window at the moonlight washed grounds of Parkinson Manor.
Ginny swung her legs over the side of the bed and moved to stand behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his back, feeling the tension in the muscles underneath his robes. Her hands splayed against his chest and she murmured, “I can’t stay back. I have to go out with the others.”
Draco relaxed slightly at her touch and wondered not for the first time why this little slip of a girl had such a hold over him. He realized suddenly that she was actually soothing him, and he forced his face into a scowl.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t go out, but you need to watch your back. I may not always be there, you know.”
She squeezed his middle slightly and nodded against his back, not releasing him from her embrace. “I know,” she said softly. “Thank you for that, by the way,” she said, thinking of the man that had attacked her earlier, and shuddered. “Do you know him?” she asked quietly, thinking of the man that he'd saved her from.
He turned in the circle of her arms and brushed her hair behind her shoulders. “We are acquainted,” he said snappishly, running his fingers through the tangles in her hair. “We are not mates. He’s filth. The ranks are getting very thin.”
“I suppose it would fall on deaf ears if I asked you to join us again?” she asked, wondering at the dichotomy between his harsh tone and the softness of his actions.
“You know I can’t. I can’t leave Blaise and Pansy. They need me. If I left…” he trailed off, frowning, not wanting to think of his friends’ fate if he were to leave the ranks of the Death Eaters.
“I know,” she replied, winding her hands around his neck. "Draco?"
"Mmm?"
"Something's happening. Something you need to be aware of." She felt the charm of the Oath of Allegiance pull painfully at the center of her, and winced.
"Stop talking. Stop right now. Don't say another word."
Ginny sighed brokenly. "You have to be careful, though. Of everyone." The charm was causing intense pain, now.
"Quiet," Draco commanded. "Not another word. "
Ginny nodded. “Alright," she said, eyeing him with a pointed look as the pain abated. "You’ve had long enough to sulk. Now come to bed.”
His expression softened as he watched her turn away from him and walk back across the room, her nightgown swinging against the back of her thighs.
“Have I?” he asked, his lips quirking into a small smile.
“Yes,” she said imperiously, smoothing the blankets over her legs as she sat up in the bed. “Besides, I have to be up in a few hours to Floo home.
A shadow passed over Draco’s face and he nodded. “Right,” he answered. “Shower first, then bed.”
Ginny sighed. There would be no changing the man, she thought as she watched him undress and walk into the loo. No changing him at all.
On the heathered moor on the edges of Parkinson Manor, a man watched the flickering candlelight through one of the mullioned windows of the large house, and seethed. He would have her. Nothing would stop him. Ginny Weasley would be his.
***********************************************
PROLOGUE
Smoke filled the battlefield and hung in the air, thick and putrid. The stench from hundreds of spells hitting flesh filled his nose as he made his way through the bodies, looking for a glimpse of Pansy and Blaise.
Before he could register the sound and dodge the beam of light, a Slashing spell hit him and he crumpled to the ground in pain. Curse after curse hit him and he was sure that he was screaming; in fact, he could hear himself, as if from a distance, but was unable to stop it. He wasn't even sure that the spells weren't coming from his side. At this point, he didn't trust anyone.
A voice rang out in the fog, clear and bell-like, stopping his assailant, he supposed. The pain was no longer so great. When he was able to open his eyes again, he found himself into Ginny Weasley’s concerned brown eyes.
“Get up, Malfoy, you’re embarrassing yourself,” she said as she hauled him up and dragged him to the shelter of a nearby building.
Draco looked at her quizzically. Shouldn’t you be stopping me?” he asked her. “Death Eater, and all that?”
“Stopping you from what?” she asked wryly. “Watching your friends’ backs? Throwing up impediment charms when the higher-ups of your outfit have someone captured? Healing wounds on the battlefield?” She scoffed. “Why would I stop that, Malfoy? You’re a greater asset to the Order of the Phoenix than some of our actual members.”
“I don’t do all that.”
She laughed. “Okay.”
“I don’t.”
“Whatever it takes to get you through the day, Malfoy,” she said, rolling her eyes.
He scowled at her and raised his sleeve, baring the arm that held the Dark Mark. “If you’re in doubt, little girl, as to what I actually am, here’s your proof.”
Ginny gave a cursory look at the lines on his forearm, and shrugged. “I have a butterfly on my arse,” she said, unimpressed. “Do I like butterflies? I did when I was seventeen. I’m rather over them, now.”
Draco re-buttoned his sleeve and looked at her skeptically.
She wore an blank expression. “Right. I have to go. Don’t get yourself killed, Malfoy. You’ve been a huge help. We’d hate to lose you,” she quipped over her shoulder.
And then she disappeared into the smoke.
Draco sat still for a moment puzzling at what had just happened to him. The Weasley girl had likely saved his life.
***
As the months dragged on, so did the war. Ginny noticed on more than one occasion after that incident that it felt as if she were being watched. Every so often, she knew that she felt someone's eyes on her back, but when she'd turn around, no one was there. It irked her, and one afternoon she got so fed up that she pulled a complicated little move that she had learned from Fred and doubled back on the man following her.
She couldn't stop the smirk that crept onto her face when she realized who it was.
Sneaking up behind him, she whispered, "You're spectacularly bad at stealth, you know."
Startled, Draco turned around and scowled. "Am not."
"Are so." Ginny shrugged. "But you can lie to yourself if you like. I think it's cute, Malfoy."
"I am not cute."
Ginny grinned at him and shivered as a sharp wind seemed to blow right through her cloak. "Are so."
Draco frowned. "Do you want to get a cup of tea?" he asked, pointing to a shop across the road from them.
Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Is this the sort of thing they teach you in Death Eater intimidation school? If so, you might want to change the curriculum. It's really not scary at all. Not even a little bit."
Draco bit back a chuckle and looked at her, amused. "Not even a little? I got really high marks on intimidation and terror."
Ginny nodded. "Oh, yes. I changed my mind. You're truly frightening," she replied, laughing. "But I really have to finish my patrol and get back."
Draco's face morphed into a scowl and he exhaled heavily. "Listen Weasley. You're at the corner of Fuck and All and no one in that shop will recognize me. Or you, for that matter."
"It's not a matter of being recognized."
"Oh?" Draco asked. "What is it a matter of then? I'm not asking you to commit to a binding ceremony, Weasley. I'm asking you to tea."
She looked at him for a long moment. "Alright," she replied slowly. "A cup of tea sounds lovely, thanks."
He nodded his approval, and strolled over to open the door of the shop, gesturing towards the inside. "After you."
George is bound to pop out and say 'gotcha' at any second, she thought to herself. Looking up at Draco's face as she passed by him, entering the warmth of the shop, she smiled. But I rather hope not.
****
Every few days he'd pop out of nowhere and they would exchange pleasantries. Ginny found that she liked him a great deal. He was cordial, and even charming on occasion. He conversed easily, although they had to stick to neutral topics for the most part. She learned that he was fiercely loyal to his friends, and that he'd do anything to protect them.
On her rotation to patrol the town and surrounding villages and ruins of Bath, she ran into him unexpectedly, yet again.
"Fancy meeting you here," she commented
"Oh, yes, well I live--" He stopped abruptly, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "I forget I can't say anything to you."
She nodded. "Yes. That happens to me, too."
"I'll just stop talking. That fixes that."
"Or you could switch sides," she suggested. "Then you could talk to me all you like."
"Is that all it would take?"
"No," Ginny replied with a grin. "But it would certainly make it easier."
He smiled lazily and leaned against the wall of a building. "Easy isn't always better, Ginny. Sometimes it's just easy."
"Would you prefer difficult then?" she countered, tipping her face up to his.
"Honestly?"
"Preferably."
"I'd prefer whichever gets me you." He leaned down and gazed at her intently, his face just centimetres away from his, and brought his hand up to touch the soft skin of her cheek. His fingertips tangled in her hair as he closed the space between them, his lips fixed a gentle pressure on hers, teasing and brushing until she took hold of the collar of his robes and pulled him down and claimed his mouth, taking his bottom lip, sucking and biting it lightly, swirling her tongue with his in a dizzying dance of pleasure.
She pulled back and smiled at the slightly dazed look on his face. "Difficult enough for you?"
Draco nodded, pulling her back to finish what she'd started.
From an alleyway adjacent to where the couple were standing, a man stood and watched, displeased. Very, very displeased. He bared his teeth, ran a hand through his hair, and Disapparated.
**************************************
CHAPTER ONE
Ginny crouched low behind the fountain at the end of High Street that commemorated the death of Voldemort, her breath coming in shortened gasps. The starry night sky lit up Hogsmeade; the beams of light from the random curses cast ethereal red and green glows over the deserted streets and abandoned shops. Just because the leader was dead didn't mean that his followers were going to follow meekly. Ginny flinched as a jet of red light narrowly missed her, and she ducked down just a bit more. Turning, she fired a Blasting Curse at her attacker, and heard a yelp for her trouble as the spell clipped his shoulder.
Take that you bastard, she thought, her face set in a grim expression.
When the members of the Order of the Phoenix Apparated into the fray, they had been met with an already bloody battle. The shopkeepers and townspeople obviously weren’t going to concede to the Death Eaters without a fight. Madame Puddifoot was battling well; Dolohov looked to have a face full of boils and was on the ground writhing in pain. Mr. Scrivenshaft flung curse after curse from the doorway of his shop, his small gnarled form hunched and ducking return curses like a man half his age. Good for you, Ginny thought. Give them hell.
She cast two more gouging charms in quick succession and before she could roll out of the way, a masked Death Eater backed her into the fountain; freezing water soaked the back of her robes and the stone bit into her back painfully. The man squeezed her wand arm so tightly that she was sure that there would be a mark. He beat her wrist against the lip of the fountain, and her stomach dropped as she heard the clatter of her wand hitting the pavement below her feet. She could see Harry out of the corner of her eye and Neville next to him, both engaged with targets of their own. No one was coming to save her this time.
The attacker leaned into Ginny, breathing heavily and pressing her further against the stone slab housing the pool of water. He shoved his knee between her legs and she could smell the foul breath coming from behind the man’s Death Eater mask.
“Ain't you a pretty ickle fing, then?” he rasped into her ear. “Might ‘ave to ‘ave a bit o’ fun wiv you ‘afore ay kill ya, pigeon. ‘Ow's that sound, eh?” he asked huskily, nuzzling her neck with his mask askew, the days worth of growth rubbing against her face uncomfortably.
Ginny opened her mouth to scream, and the man in front of her mirrored her expression, mocking me, she thought idly, and raised her eyebrows in surprise, momentarily frozen, as she watched the man fall over, his stiff and Petrified eyes staring straight ahead, features still arranged in a lecherous leer.
Ginny quickly picked up her wand and crouched low again; she looked in the direction that she thought her attacker's curse had come from and saw nothing. She turned slightly and caught the edge of a black cloak disappearing down the alleyway between Zonko's and Gladrags.
Running stealthily, she followed the figure, arriving at the mouth of the alley just as she heard the soft pop of Apparition.
“Thank you,” she said to the empty spot where the person had been, and then turned quickly, running to re-join the fight.
************************************************
The members of the Order of the Phoenix were a ragtag group as they staggered back to Grimmauld Place, some cut and bloody, some inured more seriously, all tired beyond belief.
Ginny sustained only bruises and scrapes, so she helped get the more seriously injured witches and wizards to the makeshift infirmary, where the healer on duty was busy mending broken bones and weaving lacerations back together, but he was never too busy for a quick exchange with his favorite redhead.
“Hello, lass,” said Cormac McLaggen, his handsome features arranged in an enigmatic smile, winking at her as he pulled bandages from the pocket of his green healer’s robes and flicked them around Neville’s injured wrist. Cormac flashed her a row of even, white teeth and asked, “When will you let me take you away from all this, mmm?” He sidled up to her as he finished watching the bandages bind the wound, and put his arm around her, leaning her into a dramatic dip, his nose mere inches from hers, blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
She smiled at him and shook her head. “Cormac. You never give up, do you?”
“Yeah, McLaggen,” came Neville’s voice from the exam table. “If Gin were going to date someone, it’d be me. And I’m right here.
Cormac didn’t so much as spare a glance for Neville. “You don’t stand a chance, Longbottom.”
Neville huffed. “I stand as much of a chance as you do, you ponce,” he muttered under his breath. “Oi, McLaggen! Are you going to finish this or what?” he asked angrily, waving his injured wrist in the air.
Cormac ignored Neville and brushed his nose with Ginny’s, leaning her down a fraction of an inch further. “Really, love,” he asked Ginny with a smirk. “Longbottom? You won’t let me show you what a healer’s hands are really capable of?”
Ginny giggled. “Not right this minute, no. Sorry, Cormac.”
Cormac sighed dramatically and swept her back up, spinning her around once. “Very well, lass,” he said in his soft brogue. “I’m hurt, though.”
His mock pout made Ginny smile. “You’ll be the first to know if I change my mind,” she said, putting an arm around Neville and helping him off the exam table.
“Oi,” Neville ground out in exasperation. “What about me? I’d be a much better boyfriend than that berk.”
“Sure you would, Nev, old boy,” Cormac assured him. Winking at Ginny again, he whispered, "No contest."
Neville scowled as he put his good arm around Ginny. “Yeah. Too right there wouldn’t be.”
Ginny grinned at Neville and glanced at Cormac, who’d already turned to attend another patient, as they exited the infirmary. She leaned up to peck Neville’s cheek. “You two are so funny. You ought to take your show on the road, you know.”
“Poncy bastard,” Neville muttered, scowling.
Ginny sighed and walked with him down the corridor to the kitchen, where the Order held their post battle debriefing.
Entering the kitchen, they were hit with a wave of sounds and smells; people talking over each other, the hum a whispered conversations, chairs scraping against the scrubbed wooden floors, the thunk of glasses hitting the table, the tink of cutlery against crockery, and the air was filled with the aroma of what smelled like Molly Weasley's beef stew cooking on the stove top for supper.
Harry looked downtrodden and frustrated, as usual, and Ginny gave his shoulder a squeeze as she walked by. Miles Bletchley looked up from his conversation with Seamus Finnegan and piped up, saying, "Oi! I'd like a little love tap too, eh, Gin?"
Ginny gave a halfhearted laugh, otherwise ignoring Miles and sat down next to Neville, gazing at the other man with a bored expression. The double agent for the Order, Miles had been vouched for by several different sources and had worked for them for almost a year, but she didn't like him. She couldn't put her finger on quite why. Other than he's a smarmy git, she thought.
Miles had repeatedly and persistently asked Ginny to go out with him, and after what seemed like months of politely telling him 'no,' Ginny had started ignoring him completely. It seemed to be working, for the most part. Ginny rolled her eyes as he got up from his seat, obviously coming to sit in the unoccupied chair to her left.
Cormac entered the kitchen just in time and dropped into the chair seconds before Miles got there. "Did I miss anything, love?" he asked, draping his arm on the back of Ginny's chair.
Ginny grinned. "No. No one's started."
"Good," he said, exhaling heavily. "I do so hate to miss the show."
Giving Cormac a look, Miles moved back to his chair and tapped his water glass with a fork. Harry rolled his eyes and Ron sneered behind Miles' back, while George hit him in the back of his jumper with a spitball.
"I have exciting news," Miles said, wincing and running a hand over the back of his neck. "I might've found a way to get you to Parkinson Manor. It'll take some planning, but it'll definitely better for our headquarters than this place," he said looking distastefully at his surroundings.
Harry looked offended, but Ron snorted. "Sure, Neville could disable the wards if we could get there. But it's the Death Eater headquarters, and it's Unplottable, mate. How the hell'd you do that, eh?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Did the secret keeper finally tell you where it is?"
"No," Miles replied sullenly. Parkinson, the bitch, doesn't like me."
Cormac coughed and leaned over to Ginny. "I think I may love her, then."
Ginny nodded. "She can't be all bad."
Miles gave them a disdainful look and said with an air of Father Christmas, "Also, every time I go to Parkinson Manor, which incidentally is where most of the Death Eaters and their associates congregate," he said with a nod of approval at Ron, "I have to be escorted there. The trained monkeys doing this job will be available for capture soon. They're beginning to trust me."
"Which is more than you'll ever be able to say for me," Cormac whispered to Ginny, who giggled behind her hand.
"Who are they?" George asked. "The monkeys in question, I mean."
"Malfoy and Zabini. I would've been able to hand over Parkinson too, she usually tags along with them, but she keeps mouthing off and Dolohov uses her for torture practice . We'll have to wait 'til we take the manor to get her." There was a murmur of approval from all sides, and Miles preened momentarily.
Ginny squirmed uncomfortably. "Malfoy's never killed anyone, you know."
It seemed as if the the noise in the room stopped and the attention of the entire room fell on Ginny at once.
Harry looked at her strangely. "Yeah? And how do you know that?"
"Um, I've watched him in battle. He never tortures either, and he doesn't use Unforgiveables."
Cormac studied Ginny for a moment. "Since when are you Draco Malfoy's cheering section?" he asked
"I'm not," she said quickly. "Really, I just- I dunno. I don't think he's much of a threat." Turning to Miles, she asked, "Can't you give us the bastard that had me backed up against that fountain today?"
"And which bastard, specifically, would that be?" Miles asked with a sneer.
"I don't know," Ginny spat. "He had a mask on, didn't he?"
"If he had a mask then it could have been Malfoy, couldn't it?"
"It wasn't him," Ginny said in frustration. The bloke's accent was different, and it wasn't his body type..." she trailed off, when the stares from Harry and Ron widened.
Neville jumped up and glared at Miles. "If you've got something to give us, give it. Otherwise back off of Ginny."
Miles raised an eyebrow and shrugged slightly. "Makes no difference to me. One or the other, they're all scum."
Harry nodded. "Agreed. Now tell us. What have you got, exactly? How will we get Malfoy and Zabini?"
Miles smiled and laid out some parchment on the table, placing a large pink stone beside it. "The Oath of Allegiance keeps me from telling you outright all that I know, obviously."
There was a collective eye roll from most of the table.
Cormac looked at Miles. "So you've said. Repeatedly. Every day, for the last year. We know, we've all taken the Oath, as well."
"I can't just tell you everything. You know the consequences for that."
Cormac leaned over an whispered, "Tell me how his death would be a bad thing."
Ginny swatted him playfully. "Yes, Miles. We're all aware of how the Oath of Allegiance works. Unless common knowledge, no one can divulge any information. If you do, it will inevitably lead to death. Blah, blah, blah." After Voldemort's death, it had become standard practice for the Oath of Allegiance to be sworn for both sides. Ginny didn't think that it was such a fantastic thing, it made her clandestine conversations with Draco stilted sometimes, as they had to dance around certain topics. "Moving on?" she continued. "Tell us about this great plan of yours, Miles. We're all waiting with bated breath."
Miles huffed. "Do you know what that is?" he asked, pointing a spindly finger at the smooth, opaque, rose-coloured stone sitting innocently on the table.
Hermione leaned forward. "Oooh. A Chimaera Stone," she whispered. "Where did you get that? They're illegal."
Ron frowned. "What the hell is a Chimaera stone?"
Miles looked smug. "Does it matter where I got it? You can't always win a war by legal means."
Ron looked at Harry. "Do you know what a Chimaera Stone is?"
Harry shrugged.
Hermione folded her arms across her chest and looked stonily at Miles. "They're really dangerous, as you don't know to where you're Apparating; you just know you're following the person who leaves it. Where. Did. You. Get it?" she asked in her most imperious tone.
Miles looked at her sourly. "I go to some rather dark places for my job," he said with an authoritative air. "Does that please her majesty?"
"Oi, you bastard," Ron shouted, glaring at Miles. "What the hell is a Chimaera Stone?"
Everyone looked expectantly at Hermione.
Blushing, she folded her hands in her lap. "The Chimaera Stone is ancient Druidic magic. "It tracks people. By Apparition trails. By the traces of magic left by Apparition. It's inescapable, if used properly."
Ron looked confused.
Hermione cleared her throat. "Person "A" Apparates, and then sends the Chimaera Stone back to the coordinates he Apparated from, thus enabling anyone else to follow him to his destination." She looked at Miles. "Aren't you going to tell us where you got it?"
Miles shrugged. "I run into some unsavory types in my travels about the country."
Cormac leaned over to Ginny. "He is an unsavory type," he whispered.
Ginny giggled half-heartedly and paled, sitting back as everyone else leaned forward, pouring over the schematics. How was she going to get past this? She had to tell Draco, but the Oath of Allegiance was very complex magic. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, thinking of the man that the Order was going to take by force, which would, quite probably end in death. She got up and slipped out of the room. She had places to go and people to warn. Even if it hurt her.
Only one pair of eyes saw her go.
****************************
Later, in another part of the country, a young man walked tiredly back to his rooms; he hadn’t been in the mood for socializing after tonight’s fight. He was tired, sore, and in desperate need of a shower. Running a hand through his white blond hair, he sighed in disgust. Wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t get so horribly dirty every time I went out, he thought, a scowl marring his face.
He silently opened the door to his room, and immediately felt the skin on the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably. Someone was there. In the room. He stood very still, narrowing his eyes, straining to see in the dark. After a moment when his eyes adjusted to the dark of the room, he saw the intruder.
She was asleep. Breathing evenly, her pale skin luminous in the light from the window.
He frowned and set his jaw, walking silently over to the bed, sat down and brushed the girl’s mane of red hair away from her face.
She stirred and opened her eyes sleepily. “’Lo, Draco. Come to bed.”
Draco quirked an eyebrow and sneered. “I don’t think I will, thanks.”
Ginny sat up, propping herself up on her elbows, smiling and rubbing her eyes. “Let me guess. You’re cross with me.”
“Never let it be said that you Gryffindors aren’t clever, as well,” Draco said petulantly, crossing to look out the window at the moonlight washed grounds of Parkinson Manor.
Ginny swung her legs over the side of the bed and moved to stand behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his back, feeling the tension in the muscles underneath his robes. Her hands splayed against his chest and she murmured, “I can’t stay back. I have to go out with the others.”
Draco relaxed slightly at her touch and wondered not for the first time why this little slip of a girl had such a hold over him. He realized suddenly that she was actually soothing him, and he forced his face into a scowl.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t go out, but you need to watch your back. I may not always be there, you know.”
She squeezed his middle slightly and nodded against his back, not releasing him from her embrace. “I know,” she said softly. “Thank you for that, by the way,” she said, thinking of the man that had attacked her earlier, and shuddered. “Do you know him?” she asked quietly, thinking of the man that he'd saved her from.
He turned in the circle of her arms and brushed her hair behind her shoulders. “We are acquainted,” he said snappishly, running his fingers through the tangles in her hair. “We are not mates. He’s filth. The ranks are getting very thin.”
“I suppose it would fall on deaf ears if I asked you to join us again?” she asked, wondering at the dichotomy between his harsh tone and the softness of his actions.
“You know I can’t. I can’t leave Blaise and Pansy. They need me. If I left…” he trailed off, frowning, not wanting to think of his friends’ fate if he were to leave the ranks of the Death Eaters.
“I know,” she replied, winding her hands around his neck. "Draco?"
"Mmm?"
"Something's happening. Something you need to be aware of." She felt the charm of the Oath of Allegiance pull painfully at the center of her, and winced.
"Stop talking. Stop right now. Don't say another word."
Ginny sighed brokenly. "You have to be careful, though. Of everyone." The charm was causing intense pain, now.
"Quiet," Draco commanded. "Not another word. "
Ginny nodded. “Alright," she said, eyeing him with a pointed look as the pain abated. "You’ve had long enough to sulk. Now come to bed.”
His expression softened as he watched her turn away from him and walk back across the room, her nightgown swinging against the back of her thighs.
“Have I?” he asked, his lips quirking into a small smile.
“Yes,” she said imperiously, smoothing the blankets over her legs as she sat up in the bed. “Besides, I have to be up in a few hours to Floo home.
A shadow passed over Draco’s face and he nodded. “Right,” he answered. “Shower first, then bed.”
Ginny sighed. There would be no changing the man, she thought as she watched him undress and walk into the loo. No changing him at all.
On the heathered moor on the edges of Parkinson Manor, a man watched the flickering candlelight through one of the mullioned windows of the large house, and seethed. He would have her. Nothing would stop him. Ginny Weasley would be his.
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