Full Circle

Full Circle

Chapter One - Assassin

It had been three and a half years since Dumbledore's death. She hated to say it - she hated to even think it - but Ginny suspected that had he been alive, all of this might be over now. She often thought about him, she often thought about Harry, the two people that might be able to save them from what the world had become. But Dumbledore was dead and Harry was in hiding, biding his time until he found a way to make it all right. But how long was that going to take? How long until there was no going back? Maybe it was already too late. She should accept that this was just the way the world was now.

Ginny thought about this for a long time, one night, lying in her cold, hard bed, as she listened to Luna breathing heavily in her sleep across the room. If she accepted You-Know-Who's government, if she gave in and tried to move on with her life, what would she actually do? What job would she have? She couldn't think of anything that would provide her with any kind of satisfaction when the world was in its current state. Even if she managed to find something that she didn't despise, that wouldn't erase her father's death, or Hermione's disappearance. Hermione's death. She had to accept that. Hermione couldn't be alive now; it had been too long. It wasn't much of a life here, living in a room with two other girls above her brothers' shop, working downstairs during the day, and for the insurgency at night. It wasn't much of a life, but it was something. She was reaching for something; she still had hope that one day she would have a life worth living.

This night was like any other night. Cold moonlight shone in through the bare window, though the absence of one of her roommates kept her awake more than the unwanted light. Hannah had been gone for two days now. She wasn't due back until the following morning but already Ginny had begun to prepare herself for the possibility that Hannah wouldn't be lying across the room on another night, wondering if Hannah would make it home alive. On other nights the two of them would be incredibly aware of the lack of Luna's heavy breathing. Ginny couldn't remember the last time all three of them had been in that room overnight. The fact that the absence of one of them was normal didn't make it any easier. She wasn't any less afraid.

There was a creak on the landing and Ginny stiffened in her bed. It was probably just George going to the bathroom ... but what if it wasn't? The Death Eaters came and took people in the night. Everyone knew someone who had gone, it was unavoidable nowadays. Sometimes, as in the case of Neville, the person would come back. Neville may as well have not come back, because there was no trace of the boy Ginny had known in his eyes now. He was damaged. No one knew what had happened to him, where he had been taken and what they had done to him. No one except Lupin. Ginny had asked him once, where the Death Eaters had taken Neville, what they had done to him, but he didn't reply. She had only wanted to know what lay in store for her, because it was inevitable that they would get to her one day. Lupin said it wasn't his place to tell. She wondered whether they had taken Hermione to the same place. Ginny didn't really talk to Neville anymore though, because every time she looked at him, every time she even thought of him, she gained some hope for Hermione. But she had to remove herself from that. So maybe that was George in the hall, or even Fred. There was still every chance that it was them; that they were coming for her. Part of her, in the back of her mind, thought it would be a relief.

A moment later and the pipes creaked as one of her brothers flushed the toilet and Ginny turned over in her bed. She forced herself to close her eyes. Tomorrow was important. She had to be ready.

The light flooding in through the window merged from silver to gold. Hannah crept into the room, having barely lived through the night. She peered down on her companions, who could not welcome her, or feel a small weight lifted from their shoulders, as they were both fast asleep. Hannah slipped between her sheets and with the knowledge that both of her friends were safe along with her, joined them in their uneasy slumber.

*

Ginny took her morning coffee without any sugar. It didn't feel like she should be having anything sweet with the day ahead of her and the world she was about to enter into. It was a sour world, a bitter world and a dark, unrelenting world.

She worked in the shop with Luna until lunchtime. Zabini came at ten for that month's so-called protection money. He leered at Ginny as she counted coins out of the till and into his outstretched hands. Luna scolded him for his lewd suggestions; almost as though she was unaware he was a Death Eater. Ginny didn't say anything at all because it just wasn't worth it. One day, when they finally caught her, maybe they would let Zabini rape her. She wouldn't care; she would learn to become completely unattached from the world when that happened.

George arrived back in the shop with a bag full of food not long after Zabini had left. He passed Ginny her copy of the Daily Prophet.

'I don't know why you even bother with it, Gin,' he told her as he headed for the staircase to the flat. 'There's nothing real in there anymore.'

Ginny shrugged. She knew that the Death Eaters ran the Prophet these days - the Death Eaters ran nearly everything these days - but that didn't mean there wasn't anything useful in there. If someone was named in an article she knew they were still alive. If they ran a story about Muggles killing wizards, as they had done today, she had something useful if she wanted to convince a Muggle-born friend to help with the cause that she fought for. The Death Eaters had jinxed their own back gardens with these stories, though they didn't seem to know it yet. The Muggles weren't killing wizards for being wizards at all. In fact, the Muggles weren't doing anything because their government was just as under the influence of You-Know-Who as the wizarding community. Many knew the stories were untruths, though few voiced their knowledge of this openly. Those who did were outraged that the communities that their families came from were being presented in this way. Some spoke too publicly and disappeared as quickly as they had made themselves heard; some knew that their imminent deaths at the hands of those with power could be prolonged if they were quiet. It was those who were silent in their outrage, and intelligent in the way that they presented themselves who slipped beneath the Death Eater's radar and joined the insurgency.

Ginny had no doubt that she had not gone unnoticed. They knew what her job was but they were biding their time. She had once been the girlfriend of Harry Potter, her brother had gone into hiding with him and Bellatrix Lestrange had killed her father as he tried to secure secrets of the Order of the Phoenix. The Order was gone now, but the Death Eaters must know those who had ties to it. Plenty of them lived in the small flat above a once-thriving joke shop.

One thing the Death Eaters couldn't know, however, was where Ginny was about to go. She shared a sandwich with Luna before throwing on her cloak and heading out into the harsh December air. Christmas had come and gone without much notice this year. They'd shared a bottle of wine on Christmas Day in the flat and had noticed a slight increase in the shop's sales for the few days running up to it. Mostly though, the only thing that marked the festive season was the unrelenting wind, rain and frost. It had snowed once, on the tenth. Ginny remembered because she'd spent most of the evening covering her footprints as she walked through Hogsmeade on her way to meet Fleur. Now though, the air was still but freezing. It burnt her throat as she took a deep breath in, and she saw it before her as she exhaled.

She set off purposely down the street. She was to meet Daphne outside Flourish and Blotts at half past twelve. Sure enough, Daphne was waiting in the shop's doorway; a scarf wrapped around her face so that only the top of her head and a pair of wide blue eyes poked out.

'You okay?' Ginny asked, as she approached her.

'Absolutely freezing my tits off,' Daphne replied, and Ginny noticed for the first time that the small form of her companion was shaking all over.

'We'd better get going then.'

They set off at a pace further down the street into the doorway of an abandoned Quidditch supplies shop. Ginny touched her wand to the keyhole, and whispered, 'Alohomora'. There was a slight creaking; the cold must have frozen the lock. She moved as though to heat it, but then the handle clicked and the door opened. The two young women immediately went inside, shutting the door behind them and enveloping themselves in darkness.

'Do you have it?' Ginny asked, without moving.

'Lumos.' Daphne opened her coat slightly, revealing a vial of clear liquid.

'And you're sure you did it properly?'

Daphne nodded. 'Nox.' They were in darkness again. 'I've done this before, Ginny. I know what to do.'

'Then we're ready,' she said with a deep breath. Daphne nodded and with a pop disappeared. 'I hate this part,' Ginny noted to the room at large and Disapparated along after her friend.

Her feet were firmly on the ground for only a moment before the crowd jostled her. She found herself in the middle of the busiest street in wizarding Britain, Knockturn Alley. Whilst not so long ago being seen frequenting such a street would make others suspicious, it was essential to appear there nowadays in order to put on an appearance of conformity. For Ginny and Daphne, however, this was the place in which they found themselves performing most of their covert operations. Today was no different.

They headed up the street; silently, purposefully. The crowd was thickest outside Borgin and Burke's, which had expanded considerably in the past few years. As she was slowly manoeuvring through the dense crowd, Ginny felt an arm wrap around her waist. She looked down to see an old, withering hand, and turned to see a small wizard with wisps of grey hair and no teeth.

'How much for a go, sweetheart?' he asked, hoarsely. Ginny rolled her eyes.

'I am not a prostitute,' she explained for what was now the umpteenth time, 'and I most certainly am not your sweetheart. The prostitutes are back that way, in Madame McGreary's.'

The old man wandered off, mumbling something about overpriced brothels as he went. Ginny sped off in the opposite direction, chasing after her cohort.

'Where were you?' Daphne hissed as Ginny drew up beside her.

'I was being propositioned by some old guy again.'

'I never get propositioned - what's wrong with me?'

Ginny arched an eyebrow. 'I can't believe you're complaining about that.'

A moment later, they fell silent again. They had reached their final location. It was a small shop with no name and a blacked out window. The two women pulled up the hoods on their cloaks before entering. It was not wise to reveal one's identity once inside such a place. No bell rang when they opened the door, but Ginny knew there must be some kind of silent detector because a shady looking man she knew to be the owner appeared almost instantly.

'We're looking for Jugson,' Ginny said, without giving the owner a chance to say anything. He nodded and motioned for them to follow him through a dirty red, velvet curtain.

''Es waiting down 'ere,' the owner said, 'you're early.' Ginny and Daphne did not reply. At the end of a cramped, dark, musty passageway they emerged into a room, to see the Death Eater, Jugson, sitting in a large, red armchair.

'You're early, girls,' he said, in little more than a whisper. He motioned for the owner of the establishment to leave. Ginny watched the door close and threw back her hood, with Daphne following her lead. Jugson smiled, clearly impressed with what he had been sent.

Ginny crossed the room towards him, slowly. She climbed on top of his lap and leaned in close to his ear. 'Do you know who I am, Mr. Jugson?' she whispered, and she slid a hand inside his robes, surreptitiously removing his wand.

'Someone who's going to give me a good time,' Jugson replied, gruffly. Ginny touched his wand to his temple.

'No, I'm someone who is very disturbed by how easy it is to make people believe she's a hooker.'

'Funny,' came an oddly memorable voice from behind her, 'I would have thought you'd have to pay him, Weasley.'

Ginny spun around, and got to her feet, pointing Jugson's wand at ... Draco Malfoy. She looked to where Daphne had been standing a moment ago to see her motionless on the floor.

'What did you do to her, Malfoy?' Ginny demanded, her eyes back on Malfoy's horribly familiar, pointed features.

'Nothing you weren't about to do Jugson, here.' She advanced on him, so much so that he took a step backwards. 'She's stunned, alright?'

'Just so you know,' said Ginny, regaining her composure somewhat, 'I have two wands here, and you have one between the two of you.'

'Makes no difference once you're dead, girl,' said Jugson from behind her. 'What were you going to do to me anyway? Kill me? Did you think that I would have no information for you?'

'She's not quite that inept,' said Malfoy, holding up the vial of Veritaserum Daphne had brewed.

'Screw you, Malfoy.'

He ignored her. 'Did she brew it? It's a little cloudy. You know she didn't even get in to do NEWTs in Potions, right?'

'Are we going down Hogwarts memory lane, or are we going to get on with this?'

'I already told you; you're going to have to pay us for that, Weasley.'

'Stupefy!' A bolt of red light hit Jugson clear in the chest and he fell unconscious. 'Protego!' Ginny was right to cast a shield charm as soon as she had stunned the defenceless Jugson - Malfoy had fired something blue at her and whatever it was she knew it couldn't have been friendly.

'Nice shield,' he told her, and she smirked.

'All this with someone else's wand,' she said, and she reached inside her robes, swapping the wands she had in her possession. 'Want to see what I can do with my own one?'

Malfoy braced himself, wand at the ready. Ginny laughed, took a step forward and punched him hard in the nose.

'What the fuck, Weasley?'

'Someone once told me that was the best way to deal with you - she was clearly right.' Ginny looked down on Daphne, pointed her wand at her and whispered, 'Rennervate.'

Malfoy ignored the stirring girl next to him, pointing his wand at Ginny. 'And this girl who told you to punch me - still alive is she?' He smirked, clearly knowing the answer to that particular question already.

'Seriously Malfoy, you have no idea to treat a lady.' She paused for a moment, before punching him again and stunning his unconscious body. 'Let's get out of here, Daphne, we'd better report back that we couldn't get the information.'

'He's going to kill us, we need that location,' said Daphne, as they burst out of the shop and were sufficiently immersed in the crowd.

'Look, we haven't got it yet, but we'll get it. He'll understand.'

Ginny rounded a corner and Disapparated. Fred and George would be interested to know that she'd seen Malfoy, if nothing else. And Lupin would understand. He wasn't an angry man. Maybe that was worse.

However anyone reacted though, it didn't matter because it wouldn't change how disappointed and angry Ginny was with herself. That should have been a straightforward mission, and it would have been if Malfoy (of all people) hadn't turned up. But now she had seen him, she knew he was alive, and exactly who he was working for. She would get him back, eventually.