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Ginny swallowed hard as she was shoved into the room. There were Death Eaters gathered in a circle near the corner and the ugly little man they called Wormtail was standing as straight as his lumpy form would let him next to his red-eyed master. Ginny did all she could to keep from looking at the gray-skinned pseudo-man. The figure in front of her turned at her entrance and splayed his arms wide to encompass the room.

"Welcome…" Voldemort called. "Welcome to my manor…" Ginny watched as the Death Eaters stilled to watch the confrontation.

"Bring her closer.." the Dark Lord commanded. Bellatrix shoved Ginny ahead of her and quickly followed after. Lucius and Narcissa followed at a more genteel pace. Voldemort watched with narrow eyes as she approached.

"Miss Weasley. How kind of you to join us," he said. His robes swished around him as he stepped towards her.

"Vol…" she started uneasily. The she squared her shoulders. "Voldemort…"

"You used to call me 'Tom'," he chided. Ginny shook her head and kept her eyes averted. If she were to die, she'd go without his face being the last thing she saw.

"You were never Tom. In fact," she said quietly. "I don't believe Tom was ever really Tom…" A hush fell over the room, but still, she did not look up. A chill ran over her as she felt her hair lift from her cheek.

"How very astute of you," Voldemort's hiss-like voice commended her. The grip on her hair tightened, but Ginny let her chin drop even more. Finally, there was a feral growl and a cold, leather-like grip clenched her chin and her face was forced up. Fingernails dug painfully into her cheek. She wanted to cry out, but she closed her mouth as tightly as she had her eyes.

"Look at me, girl…" Voldemort commanded. Ginny didn't move. The Dark Lord's painful grip tightened as he shook her head. "Look at me!" Ginny could not hold back the scream as Voldemort's wand dragged painfully across the flesh of her cheek. She could feel the blood begin to trail down her skin.

"Give her a matching pair, my Lord. She'll look at you then," Wormtail wheezed. Ginny's eyes snapped open to look at the man who had once been her family's rat. She now wished that Crookshanks had been the beast's more than timely demise…

"Quiet, Wormtail," his master hissed. Wormtail backed away, clutching his silver arm in protection. Voldemort turned his attention back to the redhead in his grip. "Pretty little Ginevra Weasley… I remember a time when you were lonely and forgotten."

"What do you want with me?" she asked, letting her gaze linger on the colorless skin of his face for only a moment. Voldemort let out what could be considered a laugh.

"My dear, you are no longer lonely, nor are you anywhere near forgotten," he said.

"I am to be bait then," Ginny concluded with disgust evident in her voice. The Dark Lord clucked his tongue.

"We once shared a mind, Ginevra. Perhaps you should give me a little more credit than that," he said. His free hand reached up to caress her unmarked cheek. "It is amazing, is it not, how one person can be the central figure to so many…"

"Harry…" she said softly. Voldemort smiled.

"Among some…" he said. Ginny finally looked at him. "Your family will, no doubt, rush off to rescue you. As will the honorable Albus Dumbledore and his minions. And perhaps…" He lifted her chin so he could stare into her eyes. "A young Malfoy heir…" Ginny squirmed to get away from him, anger apparent in her gaze.

"When they get here, you will be reduced to nothing," she spat. "Harry, Dumbledore and Draco alone are three of the most powerful wizards in generations… Not to mention what my father and brothers will do to you." Voldemort clucked his tongue as he shoved her away from him.

"Quite the temper you have, Miss Weasley. Almost too brave for your own good," he said as he looked down at her where she was sprawled. He pointed his wand at her and Ginny closed her eyes once again, waiting for the lethal words to be said.

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"Where's that bloody ferret got off to?" Ron grumbled. "He was supposed to meet us back here nearly a half an hour ago!"

"Patience, Ronald," Hermione gritted out for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Ron glowered at her.

"If he's in his room primping, I'll wipe the Malfoy right off his sodding face," he said. Harry chuckled, but promptly stopped as Hermione turned a look on him. The door to the room suddenly slammed open. Snape entered the room with his usual scowl.

"You can forget about Mr. Malfoy." Harry sat up straight and held up a hand to hold off Ron's blustering.

"But Professor Snape… he was to lead the rescue," he said. Snape turned his dark eyes to the Boy-Who-Lived.

"And he has another agenda as of this moment. You will worry not of Mr. Malfoy's intentions."

"How can we 'worry not'?" Ron grumbled. "His intentions were to save my sister…"

"And you sister shall be saved. And unfortunately, you will have to be the one to lead this merry little mission," the professor said. Ron's fists clenched.

"Do not make light of Ginny's capture," he said. Snape held up a hand.

"I would do no such thing. I just pity having to put the confidence of this mission in your hands," he said. Hermione put her hand on her boyfriend's arm to restrain him.

"Ron is more than capable of saving Ginny. By himself if it were necessary," she said. Her statement calmed Ron as he took her hand. Snape gave them a frown.

"It's disgustingly heartening to know someone has faith in the buffoon of the group," he said, a sneer making his lip twitch. Then the Potions professor straightened. "Come, Potter. We have other things for you to attend to…"

Harry looked to his friends. Hermione smiled at him before stepping forward to give him a hug.

"Good luck," he told her before looking to Ron. "Bring Ginny back safe. You come back safe…" The redhead swallowed, but nodded.

"You be safe too, Harry," Hermione called after him. He smiled before he followed Snape out the door.

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The group should be striking out to find Ginny now. The thought couldn't help but be prevalent in Draco's mind. But now, he needed to know what his father was planning. And that was why he was sneaking into a dark and seemingly abandoned Malfoy Manor. Severus had brought up the point that with Malfoy Manor under Ministry supervision and Lucius off planning a war, it would be the best time to see what Lucius had left behind in his flight. To get into the mind of one of the most dangerous wizards of the time was winning half the battle.

He let himself in to the dark mansion and started to walk through the familiar halls. Draco wasn't sure where to start. His father was a crafty bugger. There were places within the manor that Draco was sure he wasn't even aware of. And with that thought in mind, he took off down the hallways opposite to what he normally traveled.

Draco reached the first doorway and quickly opened the door. He let the door swing open silently before entering. A quick survey around showed a spotless study.

"Reparo..." he muttered. The image quickly replaced itself with one of spider webs covering old relics scattered in some semblance of order around the room. Draco knew that his father had removed the more powerful artifacts of Dark Arts to somewhere untraceable within the Manor, but it still astounded him as to how confident his father really was in leaving all of this stuff behind. Even though he knew better than to suspect his father of hiding something in here, he couldn't help poking around. His hand would have been smacked by a silver-headed cane for the way his fingers roamed lazily over the dust covered things. He poked through the different books and opened all of the little boxes that held grotesque things. Draco wasn't sure what he was looking for, but it wasn't here.

The hallway took him to about six or seven other rooms that were nearly identical in condition and content. He was about to give up on the search, but as he entered the last room at the end of the corridor, he got the sense that something was here that he needed to look for. Draco bypassed all of the objects awaiting discovery and he stepped up to a large, ornate-looking mirror. Something drew him to this particular area of the wall. It felt as if he were standing in front of the Headmaster's staircase… The urge to say a password itched in his mind. Draco quickly thought of all the words his father would use…

Slytherin… Salazar… Parseltongue… Dark Arts…Unforgivable… No, those were too predictable. Lucius Malfoy was certainly brighter than to use words easily associated with him. It was with that the answer sprang to mind. Draco had to chuckle.

"Albus Dumbledore…" he muttered. Yes, that would be what his father would consider completely unassociated with the name Malfoy.

The panel that held the mirror opened up and he watched with wide eyes as it revealed a whole other hallway. Now this was bloody well something… Squaring his shoulders, Draco started through to door into an area that he knew was undetectable, even to the Ministry. His father was even craftier and even more dangerous than anyone originally thought. Draco had seen that first hand. And now, he was seeing more evidence. It was as if he'd hidden an entire wing from the world. No one the wiser.

Not sure where to go first, Draco started down the hallway. The sooner he started searching, the sooner he could make his way out of this mausoleum he called a home. The hallway itself wasn't altogether daunting. It was the starkness of it that was unnerving. There was nothing along the walls to clutter the area – no paintings, no furnishings, not even the rich carpeting that had cost his father many galleons to lie along the many other hallways within the manor. Apparently, this addition was not meant to impress. And it brought to mind all of the other possible uses that Draco would rather not dwell on.

There were no rooms to search down this corridor. But he noticed that he was approaching an intersecting wing. Something in him told him that he would find something down that way… And so far, his instincts hadn't really led him wrong. Draco made to turn the corner silently with a wand raised – he wasn't completely daft. Yes, it was his childhood home. But evil wizards were probably allowed to run amuck within these hallways, Ministry be damned.

There was a noise as he made his way around the corner that pricked his senses. He stopped as he saw a tall figure standing at the end of the hallway. The breath caught in his chest as the person who he'd originally thought could have been his father turned to look at him. The gray eyes that stared back were cold as Draco had to grip the wall to keep his knees from buckling. A dream come to life... Draco slid down the wall and huddled in on himself. He could only stare at the image of himself. The mirror image was only marred by the look of hate permanently etched onto his aged patrician features. He closed his eyes as images flitted through his mind. Draco held no illusions as to what he, if disillusionment and Ginny hadn't come into his life, would have become. He was facing it right now – with a wand pointed at him.

Draco knew perfectly well that this thing in front of him was just a boggart. He knew that Lucius employed them to keep thieves at bay. And Draco knew full well that he feared no tangible thing. Not now. But this… this was what all-encompassing fear felt like. He'd only felt it once before – as he'd watched families, muggle and wizard alike, be tortured and killed in their homes. The memories of that summer came suddenly and brutally. The stench of fear, the cries of the injured, the loneliness of death, the pale green light that seemed to linger in the air long after the curse faded away…

Draco slowly came back to his feet and stumbled a little bit further down the hall. He needed to get away from the boggart – from the 'himself' that he had hoped he'd never be. His hand fumbled against the wall for a doorknob, any doorknob. Luck was with him as cool metal pressed into his palm. Draco fell through the opening as the door was pushed out of his way. With a sigh of relief, he kicked the door closed, leaving the memories in the hall along with the boggart.

It took him a second to acquaint himself with the darkness as he slowly stood. He needed that second to regain control of his thoughts. Dusting himself off, he tentatively entered the room. He'd never been in this room before or ever seen the likes of it. But that was to be expected since the wing he travelled to get herehad been off limits to him since he could first walk. His father was careful and methodical in how he presented his home - eachperson saw only what Lucius wished and nothing more. Blood included.

Draco was immediately drawn to the large chest near the window. There was nothing else like it in the manor and perhaps that was what had drawn his eye to it. Curiosity taking hold, he knelt down next to the old oak.

"Alohomora…" he whispered. The lock sprung open and Draco lifted the lid. There were rags galore inside the trunk and he took them out one by one, investigating each as he set them on the floor. He lifted one of the last ones and was immediately blinded by the light suddenly set free.

"Bloody hell…" he called as he covered his face. After a moment, he opened his eyes and peered into the trunk. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before. For Malfoy tastes, it was simple. A plain, basin-like bowl. His eyes were drawn to what seemed like images floating through the silvery liquid-like substance. Draco's eyes caught on one… and in a split second, he suddenly felt himself falling towards it and towards a voice.

"Well done, Lucius... well done, indeed." Lucius Malfoy – a younger, shorter-haired version of him – smiled a half smile.

Draco had heard about pensieves, but had never actually seen one. Oh, he remembered Potter's gaggle tittering about one back in fourth year, but he hadn't pain much attention to it. He'd heard it saidthat memories were withdrawn from the mind and put into this.

The falling feeling quickly settled itself and after a moment of disorientation, Draco was able to focus. He looked around the new surroundings. He was still in Malfoy Manor, but it was different. And in front of his father stood another man. It must have been his grandfather. He had the aged features of a Malfoy. But instead of the trademark silver hair, this man had raven black hair. It was long, just as his father's was now, and pulled back into a tie. When Draco looked back at his father, he saw that Lucius was bearing the Dark Mark.

"Thank you, Father." The elder Malfoy had no expression.

"I have hopes for you, Lucius. High hopes. It would be in your best interest to not disappoint me." Lucius bowed, but he held the same expression that Draco often held when dealing with his father.

"Of course, Father."

Draco felt a little disoriented as the scene dissolved. When his vision cleared, he was somewhere else completely.

"Lucius. Your loyalty shall be rewarded," Draco saw the face of a powerful Voldemort. Not the mere shell of a wizard he was now. His father bowed before the other wizard and turned to exit the hall. Draco hurried after him. As soon as Lucius was out of the manor, a man that Draco recognized as a younger Ribald McNair stepped up to his father.

"When?" the other man asked. A sneer crossed Lucius' face.

"Soon…"

"Does he suspect anything?" McNair asked. Lucius' sneer turned to a smirk.

"Suspect a double cross? Voldemort is entirely too confident in his powers to suspect such a thing…He thinks we are afraid of him."

"What are we to do?"

"Bide our time…" Lucius said before Disaparating.

Again, Draco felt a little ill as things once again dissolved into another scene. As this one took shape, he was ill for another reason entirely…

In front of him sat a broken and bloody Peter Pettigrew. His arms were tied above his head and blood was dried upon his lips. A wand appeared from behind him and was dragged across his cheek. The pudgy man flinched.

"Tell us what we wish, Wormtail…" Draco heard his father's voice drawl. The elder Malfoy stepped out from behind the man he was torturing. "Tell us… or… Crucio!" The screams were gut-wrenching. Draco turned his head away and tried to block it out. When quiet reigned once more, Draco looked to see his father leaning close to Pettigrew.

"You know where they are. Tell me, or you will have more of the same. Death will only look like a blessing to you…" A whimper escaped the pained man.

"I…I… I know where they are," he said, his voice as dry as a desert. A cold smirk came over Lucius' face.

"Please. Do not hold us in suspense," he prodded. Draco saw a look of relief cross over Pettigrew's face and wondered over it. Until he heard the other voice.

"Yes, please, Wormtail. Inform me of the Potter's whereabouts." Lucius turned in surprise, and Pettigrew's face fell when he realized that he was no closer to release or death than he had been before. Draco stared in realization that his father was actually the one ultimately responsible for the Potters being found and murdered. And if had been up to him, his father would have been the one to kill them. Draco closed his eyes and wished himself elsewhere.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the present. He sat back, the light from the trunk illuminating the dark room. There was a lot of information he'd just received and he wasn't sure what to do with it all...

After a minute or so to process, it took but a moment to come up with a suitable start to a plan. He only hoped that it wouldn't get him killed. By all rights and purposes, he was a Malfoy. And Malfoys looked out for themselves.

Draco closed the trunk and strode out of the room with purpose. All these years he had been raised to follow his father's footsteps. And now, he would do as his father had done… and he would do it tonight.

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