Diligite Inimicos Vestros

Chapter 1: Cogito Ergo Sum

When Ginny Weasley lifted her head from her knees, she thought for the umpteenth time, how life could possibly have turned out the way it did? She allowed herself to get engrossed in her memories, casting her mind back to when she was still in school at Hogwarts, and her brother Ron, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had begun their final year.

Things had taken an unexpected turn over the summer; somehow Harry and Draco had abandoned their hostilities and become friends. Even Ron and Hermione seemed to accept him, albeit with a grain of salt, Ron especially.

The school had been awash with rumours about the shift in the much-followed relationship between the two seekers. There was talk of adventures, of Death Eaters and Voldemort. And when it was announced both boys were Magids, wizards who can do magic without wands, the uproar reached fever pitch.

The truth was more incredible than anyone realised, but that is another story. In the meanwhile things continued as normal at Hogwarts, with the exception that there were no more insults flung between Harry and Draco, and the Slytherin King could be seen studying with Hermione in the library, they had, after all, been made Head Boy and Girl respectively.

Ginny hadn't known what to think. On the one hand, he was a Malfoy, his father's son. On the other, he was also the hottest guy in school. And had become more so now that he was being nice to the group of Gryffindor's, too, Ginny privately thought.

Of course Draco had still remained his charming self, taunting Neville, terrifying first years, and generally being an insufferable arrogant git, but now that he didn't target Ginny anymore, he was much more pleasant to be around. But that didn't extend to Ron; he and Draco often went off at each other, hurling verbal abuse, but neither tried to hex or curse the other anymore.

And who was she to doubt him, since Harry, her hero, had accepted him.

*****

In time, the five of them had become a close-knit group. They were so different to each other, that an outsider might wonder what made them friends at all. Ron and Hermione had, in the end, given up their bickering and confessed their feelings for each other. Like they hadn't been obvious before, Ginny had snorted. Harry, after the disastrous affair with the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang, had shied away from girls, but at the end of his final year he had finally started to open up to girls, particularly to an attractive brunette, Tasmin, a Hufflepuff in Ginny's year. And Draco...well, Draco was Draco. He'd dated girls left, right and centre, never staying with one for more than two weeks, discriminating no house. Ginny herself hadn't dated seriously after Dean Thomas, with the exception of Lavender's dashingly handsome cousin, Zach.

Ginny found herself the envy of most of the girls in school, because of her friendship with Harry and Draco. She thought it hilarious that girls would try to suck up to her in the hopes of catching either boy's eye. It had become something of an in-joke between herself and Draco. Hermione remained her closest female friend.

Upon end of the school year, as her friends prepared to leave school, and were busy with their NEWT's, Ginny begun to wonder about her seventh year. What would she do, having been left behind. She confronted Draco with these thoughts one afternoon after their exams were finished.

Draco looked at her tightly, like he was trying to penetrate her thoughts.

"You know, Gin, I always seem to forget you won't be leaving school with us," he had finally said, "but if it makes a difference, I promise to owl you often, as often as I can from my studies."

That had indeed helped. Her last year hadn't been as bad as she'd feared; she'd been far too busy with her studies and Draco, as well as the others, had owled her often. He'd also taken to regularly sending her things, which caused quite an uproar among the female population at school. Often expensive gifts, like the finest chocolate money could buy, items of clothing, even jewellery. Draco could easily afford them, having been the sole heir to his father's fortune.

When it was time for Ginny to Graduate, they had all returned to cheer her on, and took her to celebrate afterwards. At her party Ron and Hermione announced their engagement, and they were to be married that September. No one said anything but it was implied that they were getting married so soon for a reason.

And they were right.

By the time of the wedding, it was already obvious that Hermione Granger was definitely not a prude. As Ginny watched her brother marry one of her and his closest friends, and then celebrate the arrival of their first born son, Euan Harry Arthur, the following February, she felt as happy as she could be. Harry was there, with his then girlfriend, Anna, but to Ginny's surprise, Draco arrived dateless.

And Ginny could feel there was something decidedly different about Draco. Harry, Draco and Ginny were all made godparents, and during the ceremony Ginny's eyes met Draco's. The dark, concealed look in them made her start, and when she looked again he held his gaze down. Something was definitely wrong, Ginny had thought.

That was the last time Ginny had seen Draco.

When the summer after her graduation was over, Ginny had moved on to higher studies. After the christening she no longer received owls from Draco. She wondered why but thought he was probably busy with his own studies. Then about a month later she heard the terrifying news:

Draco had defected and joined Voldemort!

Ginny pulled back from her reverie. She shivered and took a drink of water from the cup next to her.

She'd scarcely been able to believe it. Draco, the person she had told so many intimate things about herself, a traitor? Surely she could not have been so wrong about him?

In time, as the shocking news had been confirmed by a series of incidents involving Death Eaters and Draco in their front line, Ginny had been forced to accept it. Even later still, as she bitterly spat at Harry, she was convinced that Draco had only been acting their friend, attempting to get information on the order. She had thrown herself into her training, but from that day she had been changed. She had lost her naivety, her childish faith in people. Her family and friends were worried, but she had assured them that she was better off for it, and slowly life moved on.

The battle against Voldemort had ensued, of course, and casualties were made on either side, the balance only slightly in the favour of the order. Cornelius Fudge had retired and Arthur Weasley was made the new Minister of Magic. As the years went by Ginny grew up to be a strong, independent woman, striking in her red Weasley hair, which reached almost down to her waist, and her guarded brown eyes. She had not yet figured out what she wanted to do in life, but she was certain that she would always fight the Death Eaters. Now twenty-three, Ginny had seen her fair share of battles, and was finally feeling pretty good in her own skin. She was a fully-fledged member of the Order of the Phoenix, and had been so since her eighteenth birthday.

To an outsider her life seemed perfectly normal. She'd rented a flat in the middle of Muggle London, and trained at the local gym, bought her groceries at the local supermarket, visited her parents every other weekend, and often went out with Harry, Ron and Hermione.

In fact, she had become well known around the London club scene. Her fitness levels were phenomenal due to her training, and she loved to dance, attracting hordes of male attention. Wizard or Muggle, Ginny didn't really care. She dated a lot, but none of them serious. She still had a rough time trusting anyone enough.

"Time to go," a voice shouted in front of her and Ginny was torn back to the present. Slowly she looked up at the burly guard standing behind the barred door of her cell, who for some reason looked familiar to her, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out where she'd seen him before. "I said get up!" the guard bellowed.

Not saying a word Ginny stood up from the floor of her cell, continuing to stare at the guard.

The guard opened the door with a swish of his wand and walked into her tiny cell, and proceeded to unshackle her, until she was no longer tied to the wall. Then he tugged at the chain, which was connected to the manacles around her ankles and wrists, forcing her to stumble after him, as he began to lead her out of the dungeons to the ground floor.

Ginny was not sorry to be out of the cell. It was dark and dank, and she was pretty sure something had died in there. She didn't mind the rats and mice much, but the stinky, soiled mattress on the floor gave her the willies. Some of the stains on it made her wonder how old it actually was and what had happened on it.

The dungeon was also freezing. Ginny hated to be cold more than anything. She hadn't had the chance to grab her cloak when she'd been taken here.

As she walked behind the beast of a man, Ginny recalled again how she had been captured, and cursed herself for being so careless. But then again she had not expected that in the slightest, having been asleep in her flat. The four Death Eaters had overpowered her in minutes. But, she thought to herself with satisfaction, at least I managed to inflict some pain on them before they stunned me. That had been only 24 hours earlier. Seems like longer, she thought, but I guess time really crawls when one is chained to the wall with nothing for distraction but the rats and spiders. She still couldn't understand why they had targeted her. She wasn't exactly a threat to them; she was not even close to being fully trained, and knew no important Order secrets.

It had been a very regular Sunday at the end of a very regular week. She'd been to the Burrow for dinner like she did every week, and then she'd Apparated back home, had a bath and gone to bed.

Ginny had always been a light sleeper, but this time she hadn't woken up in time. Suddenly she'd been woken up by a feeling she wasn't alone in the room.

She'd opened her eyes and the second she'd done so four pairs of arms had grabbed her, one for each limb, and she'd been hoisted off her bed, wrestled down to the floor and bound with a hasty "Incarcerous!"

Unfortunately for her assailants, they'd left her feet untied, allowing her to inflict considerable pain and suffering before she been stupefied.

The next thing she'd seen and smelt was the vile mattress in the cell.

"The prisoner you asked for," her guard suddenly said and Ginny looked at the person he was talking to.

It was Blaise Zabini, a former Slytherin from the year above hers. Blaise simply nodded and gained control of Ginny's chains. The guard turned and went back down to the dungeons.

"So, little Ginny Weasley. My, my, how you have grown," Blaise sniped and smirked at Ginny. "Still look like a Weasley though," she continued and laughed.

Ginny remained unfazed.

That wiped the smirk of Blaise's face. "I wouldn't look so smug if I were you," the former Slytherin girl said. "He will break you in no time," she continued, and yanked Ginny's shackles so that she nearly fell over. Her confidence restored, Blaise smiled and began leading Ginny toward the black double doors in the other side of the hall.

Blaise knocked on the double doors and entered without waiting for a reply, dragging Ginny through the doors and shutting them behind her.

They were now in what appeared to be an office. It was all dark wood and forest green velvet. It was obvious that whoever occupied this space had good taste and a lot of galleons to their name. The décor itself was simple; the room only contained a large oak desk, three chairs around it, a small table, a chaise lounge and a black screen with a wardrobe peeking from behind it. The fireplace had a roaring fire in it, and on the table was dinner set for two, but Ginny couldn't see any food.

"I have brought her to you, Sir," she announced and dropped the end of the chain she'd been holding. "Is there anything else you require?" She asked.

"No. Dismissed," said a commanding voice from behind the screen. Ginny's head snapped to that direction, and she barely noticed Blaise's disgruntled and oddly disappointed face as she exited through the doors they had come in through. Ginny remained rooted on the spot.

"So," said the male voice as a tall figure emerged from the shadows, "if it isn't Ginevra Weasley," the voice drawled on. "It has been a while."

"You!" Ginny spat as she stared at the man she had thought she knew. "I should have known. Only a Malfoy could pull a stunt like this."

Draco smirked as he stepped into the light in front of Ginny. "Thank you, he said," and pointed his wand at her, "and only a Weasley would be foolish enough to fall for it."