Lost and Found

Ginny Weasley walked through the sparsely populated main street of Hogsmeade at a quick pace. She had a feeling that she was being followed, but she put it off to the residual uneasy feeling from the nightmares that had her out walking at this time of night in the first place. Her sleep had been haunted by nightmares for years, but this last week they had grown frighteningly realistic. Just as she was about to enter a small shop with a crooked sign declaring it to be "Weaselys' Wizard Wheezes", something touched her shoulder.

Ginny spun around, catching the glint of a silver cane, she reached for her wand that was hidden in an inner pocket of her cloak. The man with the cane was quicker though and before she touched her wand a whispered, "Expelliarmus", had it in the hand of Lucius Malfoy.

Ginny let out a shocked gasp and demanded, "Mr. Malfoy, return my wand at once."

Lucius smirked at the petite redhead, "Or else?"

Ginny stamped her foot slightly. "What are you playing at? I believe you must have taken a wrong turn. This is not Knockturn Alley."

"What game are you playing at, Miss Weasley? Going into your brothers' shop after hours?"

"I work here," Ginny snapped. "I left something I needed. I'm sure Fred and George will appreciate your concern. Wand." She said holding out her hand.

Lucius noted the slight quivering of Ginny's hand with satisfaction as he placed her wand in to her outstretched hand. "I do believe this need not come to a duel, Miss Weasley."

Ginny didn't pocket her wand but kept it pointing at Lucius. "Indeed. Well, forgive me for my mistrust, Mr. Malfoy, but I do, after all, know you."

"I just wish to have a short conversation with you."

Ginny smiled sweetly at Lucius. "Yes, well, you have now, haven't you? Thank you and good night," Ginny said crisply with much more conviction than she felt as she moved toward the door to the shop.

Lucius blocked Ginny with his cane. "I'm not quite finished with you yet, Miss Weasley."

Ginny glanced down at the cane, swallowing nervously. Her eyes darted around her surroundings to see if there was a possible escape route or a helpful looking bystander. Her furtive glances revealed two large men standing on either side of her. Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle. Ginny closed her eyes for a long moment, gathering her courage, and then turned her face toward Lucius, "What is it you wish to discuss?"

Lucius lifted his cane, unblocking the shop door. "I think we will be more comfortable inside the shop, Miss Weasley."

Ginny challenged him with her eyes for a second, then waved her wand over the doorknob, whispering the unlock spell George had just changed that morning. If Lucius Malfoy had wanted her dead or to kidnap her, he could've done so already, Ginny decided as she heard the tumblers clicking into place.

Lucius opened the door and entered the shop with Ginny following closely behind. Lucius gave the door a push closed with his cane. Ginny noticed through the window of the shop that Crabbe and Goyle had moved in front of the door. She wondered if another wizard guarded the backdoor.

Lucius picked up a piece of parchment from the counter in the shop. "Swirling in the blackness of my own soul --" he read from it.

Ginny angrily snatched the parchment out of his grip and rolled it tightly. "What do you want, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Blackness of my own soul? My, my, aren't you a dark little girl?"

Ginny glared at him. "I am not a little girl and my poetry is none of your business!"

"It's quite a badly written poem, Miss Weasley. Perhaps you should seek another outlet for your darkness."

Ginny's face reddened. "Is this why you're here? To critique my writing?"

Lucius smiled condescendingly at the young witch. "No, it isn't why I'm here, but I can't say I haven't thought of you over the years, Ginny," Lucius purred, moving closer to Ginny.

"Miss Weasley will do fine, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny said, backing away from Lucius until she was against the wall. "Now, tell me what you want and then leave."`

"Tell me, Miss Ginny Weasley, do you still hear his voice in your head? See his face in your dreams?" Lucius asked as he smoothly closed the space between them.

Ginny's hand surreptitiously moved toward her wand. "Whose face?" Ginny asked through gritted teeth, already knowing exactly who Lucius referred to.

"Tom Riddle's," Lucius leaned down to whisper in her ear.

Ginny inhaled angrily and pulled out her wand, not casting a spell but pushing the point of it into Lucius' chest. "OUT! NOW!" She yelled.

Lucius smirked at the red-faced Ginny. He ignored her wand and gently brushed a strand of her hair back. "You miss him, don't you? I could reunite you with him. Voldemort, I must admit, is not as pleasant to look upon as Tom Riddle, but they are one in the same."

Ginny flicked her wrist, a hex forming on her lips, but before she could complete the words, Lucius easily pinned her arms against the wall and pressed his lips against hers in a crushing kiss. Ginny gave a stifled cry of rage and sunk her teeth into his flesh as hard as she could. He released her and backed away, taking her wand with him.

Lucius chuckled at the red-with-rage witch as he twirled her wand in his hand. "Tell me what you know of Draco and I'll leave you alone to your dark scribbling," Lucius said coolly, ignoring the blood trickling out of his mouth.

Ginny, still breathing heavily, took a deep breath and recovered to spit out, "He's a spineless git. As are you. Leave now, before I call the Ministry."

"You don't know, do you?" Lucius asked.

"Know what?"

Lucius shrugged. "No matter, Miss Weasley. It was a pleasure to catch up with you," he drawled, tossing her wand to her before bowing slightly in her direction and continuing, "Until we meet again."

Ginny held her wand at his retreating back but didn't make another move until he had swept out of the shop and the door had closed behind him. Ginny realized she was shaking uncontrollably, her wand clanging to the floor as her hand lost its grip on the slender piece of wood. She sunk to the floor next to it and hugged her knees to her chest, the taste of Lucius' blood filled her mouth and her senses with rage. She spit on the floor, trying to rid her body of him. She spit until her mouth was dry and then stood and looked at the mixture of blood and saliva on the floor. She grabbed a bottle of Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover and sprayed it on the floor. Instantly the floor was spotless.

Ginny slipped behind the counter and pulled out a polished wood box and spoke the words to open it. She removed what she had been returning to the shop for, a crystal ball. "Something is going on and I'm going to find out what it is," Ginny said quietly, "And thanks to Mr. Malfoy, I think I know where to start looking. What are you up to, Draco Malfoy?"

~*~

Draco had been pacing the small balcony for almost an hour. "If one is going to go into hidden exile," he said to himself, "One should pick someplace that does not have substandard living conditions."

"Substandard?" Hermione asked as she walked through the open door. "Our flat is not substandard."

"Depends on your standards."

Hermione frowned. "I'm sure that Harry is tossing and turning in bed right now, thinking of how you're suffering since Voldemort destroyed his family home in Godric's Cove, where I'm sure you would have been more comfortable."

"The Potter home was probably decorated in early chintz and begging to be destroyed, but I'll take Harry's bed and he can have that lumpy, pest-infested futone, flustone, whatever you call it."

"There's always the floor," Hermione suggested. "Besides, my parents bought that futon as flat-warming gift."

"I wouldn't share that sin with the world, if I were you."

"You shouldn't be out here in the open, Malfoy," Hermione said, refusing to comment on his jab at her parents.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Contrary to popular belief, evil does sleep. I think I'm safe out here at 4 in the morning."

"If evil sleeps why are you pacing a balcony instead of snuggled under the blanket Mrs. Weasley knitted and snoring away on the futon?"

Draco had to admit to himself Hermoine could be quite cutting. He was impressed. "Firstly, I'm an auror, fighting evil same as you, Granger. Secondly, Malfoys do not snore. Thirdly, Mrs. Weasley knitted that blanket? And it touched my body?"

"The Weasleys are a good family, Malfoy. You will not insult them in front of me."

Draco snorted. "The Weasleys are a --," Draco stopped mid-sentence and reconsidered. "Which Mrs. Weasley knitted it? The frumpy one or Ron's serving wench? You lucked out there, Granger. Since Ron married that tart right out of Hogwarts, you're safe. Although I guess there are still lots of available Weasleys. Ooh, I know," Draco continued enthusiastically, either not noticing the dark look that Hermione was giving him, or choosing to ignore it. "Harry could marry Ginny, you could marry one of the other Weasley's and then you would all be one big happy Weasley family."

For a long moment Draco just stood smirking at Hermione while she glared daggers at him. "You can't decide if you want to slap me or kiss me, can you?" Draco finally asked.

"Actually I was wondering if Harry would help me dispose of your body."

Draco shrugged. "Those hero types are dreadfully unhelpful at that sort of thing, I wouldn't count on it if I were you."

"In that case, I'm going back to bed. I suggest you do the same as it is almost time for work."

Hermione spun around and started toward the door to the flat, but Draco caught her arm. "I didn't mean anything by it, Granger. I was just teasing. There's no need to be huffy."

Hermione huffed and pulled her arm out of his grasp. "I'm not huffy. I'm tired. I'm going to bed," she snapped turning toward the door.

"Don't go," Draco whispered.

Hermione spun around to face him. Draco moved in, tilting his head to kiss her, but instead of her lips all he found was the palm of her hand.

"Don't. You just don't want to be alone," Hermione said stonily as Draco's lips brushed her hand.

Draco straightened and gave Hermione a quizzical look. "That's not it," he protested.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Whatever. It's not going to happen."

"Is it Harry?" Draco asked.

"No, it's you."

Draco laughed dryly. "Yes, well, then, you're right again. Good night, Granger," Draco said as he turned back toward the London skyline, dismissing Hermione without a second thought.

Hermione shook her head and re-entered the flat leaving Draco to brood alone. "Honestly! Is it Harry?" she mimicked Draco's drawl under her breath as she ran straight into Harry.

"Yes, it is Harry," Harry said with a crooked grin.

Hermione chuckled, "Sorry, Harry. I hope we didn't wake you."

"Is everything okay?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Oh, it's just Draco...being Draco. He's pacing the balcony."

Harry looked toward the balcony and shrugged. "Don't let him get to you, Hermione. He loves to stir up things."

Hermione nodded and then pulled the sleeve of Harry's pyjamas. "Let's go to your room for a minute," she whispered.

They walked into Harry's small, cluttered bedroom and Hermione quietly closed the door and sunk onto Harry's bed with a sigh as she tried to organize her thoughts. She glanced around the softly lit room, smiling inwardly at the Gryffindor banner displayed prominently on the wall, the Quidditch gear piled in the corner and the gravity defying lopsided stacks of books scattered throughout the room.

Harry sat down next to her. "What is it, Hermione?" he asked softly. "Is it Draco?"

Hermione nodded and turned to look Harry in the eyes. "I just don't trust him, Harry. His coming over to our side seems so conveniently timed. We've been unable to move against Voldemort directly since he stays in hiding, doing nothing but occasionally sending an agent to attack us. But just as we had rooted out a group of Voldemort's supporters, just as we are getting closer to direct evidence linking his father to Voldemort, Draco suddenly shows up at the Ministry?" Hermione stopped and shook her head.

"It does seem a bit odd," Harry admitted.

"Exactly. And the Ministry gives Draco a job as an Auror and tells us baby-sit him? And does Draco even offer the evidence we need to indict his father? No. He offers a tale of fleeing from a group of hooded Death Eaters and claims to not even know if his father was one of the hooded Death Eaters. What if it is all an elaborate ploy to trap you, Harry?"

Harry sighed deeply and squeezed Hermoine's shoulder. "I know. I've had the same suspicions, Hermione. But, if Draco were just after me, he's had plenty of chances to kill me outright and we don't have any proof that Draco isn't telling the truth. I'm quite sure that he knows many things he hasn't told us. His reasons for not giving us that evidence may be as simple as him not quite be able to take that step toward severing those ties to his father yet."

Hermione snorted. "If Draco is truly on our side, why wouldn't he want his father in Azkaban?"

"It's probably irrelevant, Hermione. Lucius Malfoy still has a high-standing in the wizarding community, donations to all the right causes...I doubt the Ministry would let us go after him just on Draco's word anyway. Draco knows that as well."

"True enough," Hermione said. "The Ministry is another matter that concerns me. Who can we trust at the Ministry?"

Harry looked at Hermione, sadness filling his eyes, "Realistically, Hermione, I think we can trust only each other."

Hermione nodded at Harry and rose from the bed, her face showing grim determination. "Right," she said, then her eyes darted away from Harry and she suddenly seemed not to know what to do with her hands and she wrung them nervously. "Without you, Harry..." she said, her voice trailing off as she looked down at Harry.

Harry took Hermione's hands into his and squeezed them. "I know, Hermione. I feel the same," he brought her hands to his face and kissed them softly.

Hermione leaned toward him and kissed his forehead. It would be so easy to take the relationship to the next level, but fear of losing what they already had made her stop. She stepped backwards, pulling her hands from Harry's grasp. She studied him for a long moment, thinking he looked so much older than his 21 years. There were dark shadows under his eyes and the famous lightening bolt had been joined by other battle scars, making his face appear to be a puzzle someone had not put together properly. Hermione yearned to kiss Harry's jagged scars, caress his flesh, whisper her desires in his ear, hold him, comfort him, become one with him. She knew if she did not leave now, she would not be able to prevent herself from taking him into her arms. Without another word, she turned and left the room. She could not bear to lose Harry as she had lost Ron.

~*~

Lucius entered his wife's bedroom silently. It had been quite some time since he had seen the room. It was just as his wife was, sleek and cold. Narcissa was lying in the bed, but Lucius knew that she was not asleep. He stopped at the edge of the bed. "I spoke with Ginny Weasley. She didn't know about Draco."

Narcissa did not turn toward her husband as she said, "Flirting with a Weasley brat is not going to bring us any closer to finding our son."

Lucius tightened his grip on his cane. "The girl will run to Potter. Potter will lead us to Draco."

Narcissa sat up and faced her husband. "You think Potter is involved with Draco's disappearance?"

"Potter is a meddlesome fool. I know he's involved in some manner."

"We need someone close to Potter."

"The Weasley girl is vulnerable. Fragile," Lucius sniffed. "She can be turned."

Narcissa arched her brow. "You do have your moments, Lucius," she said. "Do what must be done."

Lucius nodded to his wife and left the room as silently as he entered.

~*~

Draco turned to enter the flat and saw Hermione quickly exit Harry's bedroom, her arms hugging herself and flee into her bedroom, the door closely soundly behind her. Draco shook his head, "If those two were anymore repressed they'd surely break when they sat down."

As Draco's hand touched the doorknob, a figure apparated onto the balcony. Draco turned quickly toward the figure, drawing his wand from his silk robe.

"Expelliarmus!" The figure shouted and Draco's wand flew out of his hand.

Draco didn't panic, but stood still as the figure took a step toward him, pushing back the hood of her cloak.

At first, Draco didn't recognize the wisp of a girl, but then the clouds in the sky shifted, allowing moonlight to shine down on the balcony, highlighting the figure's gleaming red hair. Draco relaxed, "Ginny Weasley," he said.

Ginny nodded, pocketing Draco's wand even as she kept hers pointed at him. "I have Seen, Draco Malfoy. And I will not allow it."