The Darkness Presides

~Chapter 2~

Ignoring all rules of wizard law, Draco Malfoy Apparated in the street looking confused and irritated. It was about as close to concerned as he could look. When he saw Ginny running towards him with the dark man on her heels, his mood soured, and he was angry. Angry at Ginny for being an idiot, because he was sure she´d somehow gotten herself into this by stupidity, and angry at the man for making him get off the couch. He didn´t have much time to contemplate that before Ginny dived behind him, clinging to his shoulders like a virus. He shook his head: Weasleys.

The dark man slowed his pace and stopped a few feet in front of Draco´s toes, panting. Ginny couldn´t believe he didn´t run like hell after seeing Draco Malfoy in all his six-foot glory. He was looking particularly dangerous too; his white blonde hair ruffled from sleep and a wary look in his eye. She peeped around his elbow, being only five foot two herself, and glared stonily at the stranger.

"Draco!" he exclaimed, with a cruel laugh directed at Ginny. "Where´ve you been all this time, man? I mean, she´s a nice piece of work, but I can´t see you in the whole hooker business."

"No one said anything about hookers, Goyle," he replied easily. Ginny blinked; had she heard right?

"Excuse me, did you say Goyle?" she asked. Draco seemed amused by this question.

"The younger," he clarified. "Looks nothing like his older brother, does he?" Ginny shook her head, remembering a moss coloured mountain at the Yule Ball in her third year. She snickered quietly. "He´s five years younger than Gregory. You wouldn´t have noticed him, he was of the sort that blended into the walls."

"But isn´t he still in school?"

"Dropped out last year. Shares the same intellect with Greg, I assume," Goyle glared in Draco´s direction.

"You know, Draco, I could just idly mention at the next Death Eater meeting that you ain´t there because you´re screwing around with a red haired wench."

"Oh, I´m sure you won´t think of it. You are a little slow, after all," he pulled his wand from the inside of his jacket and pointed it at Goyle´s temple. "Obliviate!"

For a moment Goyle looked dazed, but then he walked off slowly, muttering something about rainfall in Wimbledon. Ginny stayed behind Draco until he rounded a corner, graciously nodding to an old woman on the street. When she presumed she was out of danger, she came up alongside him and glanced down the sidewalk to make sure Goyle The Younger wasn´t coming back. Satisfied, the air seemed to leak out of her spine and she slouched slightly, using her hip as a support.

Draco rounded on her. "You," he said pointedly, "are lucky to be alive. Do you have any clue how dangerous it is walking around all alone? What if something had happened to you?"

Ginny gaped at him for a moment and then snapped, "What do you care, Malfoy?"

"I don´t, but it´d be bloody inconvenient to have come all the way out here just to have to go back home and play the loyal, Death Eating son again."

"Malfoy, you probably Apparated here,"

"Well, yes, but all the same..."

"And what´s all this about Death Eater´s meeting, hmm? Playing both sides?"

"Of course I´m playing both sides, Virginia, my father would skin me alive if he knew where I was right now. It only makes sense to play both sides." He looked at the ground, then back at Ginny almost too quickly for her to notice.

"Oh...right," She stared at her feet, blushing, suddenly contrite. "Well. Thanks. Saving my life is always appreciated," She flashed him a quick thumbs up and practically ran up the stairs to her apartment. Draco strolled after her casually, taking his time. After a moment he heard her voice floating down the stairs, followed by a masculine one he couldn´t place. As he got closer he could hear the exchange better.

"C´mon, Zhinny...ya can´t do better than meh."

An exasperated female voice followed, "Ralph, look, I do not, nor will I ever want to go in your apartment. It´s been a month since they cleaned the rats out."

"Aw, Zhinny, yer so cold..."

"Go to bed, Ralph, you need the sleep."

Draco vaulted up the last set of stairs and strode confidently over to where Ginny was trying to herd a drunk man into his apartment. The drunk man in question appeared to be succeeding at copping a feel. Lucky drunk, thought Draco, then shook off the thought. I need a girlfriend. This should be on the top ten list of You Know You´re Desperate When...

"Problem?" he drawled.

"Nope," said Ginny, smiling at him and simultaneously trying to push `Ralph´ through one of the brown doors lining the walls. "No problem at all. I can take care of it."

"Because you´re so famous for your quick thinking and super strategy,"

"That was a fluke. I hardly ever get chased by gits. Unless you count yourself, of course."

"I haven´t chased you yet." Ugh, flirting with a Weasley. What am I doing?

"Yet being the operative word." Ew, flirting with Malfoy. Ew. Ew. Ew. Stopping now.

Ralph leaned heavily on Ginny, causing her to stumble. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She pushed him away, but even drunk he was quite a bit stronger than her.

"You scammin´ on ma girl?" Draco rolled his eyes, and forcibly pulled his arm away from Ginny. With his free hand he gave him a hard punch in the eye, shoving him into the apartment despite his pitiful moaning.

"Could you not have chosen a less infested building to live in?" He shut the door firmly. When he was finished Ginny looked on in amusement as his eyes combed his hands in disgust.

"I really could have handled that. Ralph´s always hanging from some doorway, half crocked and hitting on anything with legs," Draco ignored her and pushed past, almost jogging to the door of her own flat. "What are you doing?"

"I´m going to take a long, hot shower." She laughed and tried hard to ignore the mental picture that brought to mind.

~*In the middle of the night*~

Ginny rushed into the darkened living room where Draco was curled into a stiff ball on her small sofa. He lay with his eyes open, staring at nothing, trying desperately to sleep.

"Malfoy! I just realized something! Why did Goyle think I was a hooker? Malfoy? Malfoy, answer me."

Draco groaned and rolled over - or at least, tried to. He ended up in a pile on Ginny´s living room floor. "Mmph!"

"Malfoy, I´m serious. Was there something wrong with my skirt? My blouse? My hair? Why, Malfoy, why? Answer me!" Seconds later, Draco sat straight up, apparently free of the one flimsy sheet that had been twined around his knees.

"Virginia, it´s fine, you were fine, now let me sleep," he rambled, faking a yawn. In reality he wasn´t tired at all. Rather wound up when you got down to it. But insomniacs were less threatening, and Draco needed the full weight of `missed sleep´ to counteract her dominating presence. Slowly he hauled himself back on the couch, watching her with one eye.

"Well you did say he was about as smart as his brother..."

"Yes...yes I did. However," he yawned, interrupting himself, "he does have excellent taste in women. I wouldn´t be surprised if he knew a hooker by sight."

He ignored Ginny´s growl and ducked the ugly green vase she threw at his head. It bounced off the back of the couch and hit the coffee table with a crash, splintering into a thousand pieces. Her angry footsteps retreated, leaving Draco in the relative peace of the empty room.

Unable to help himself, he laughed into his pillow for several minutes.

~***~

In the morning, Ginny was not as cheerful as she could have been. For one, it was Monday, the universally dreaded day of return to the workforce, and for another, she´d been labelled a streetwalker twice in one day. It wasn´t shaping up to be the greatest week under the sun. And Draco wasn´t even up yet. Lazy ass.

With a quick spell she cleaned up the mess she´d left scattered where it fell the night before. Thoughtfully she regarded the smaller pieces of porcelain partially hidden in the carpet, precisely where Draco´s feet would hit the floor when he finally saw the light of day. It would take a slightly stronger spell to get into the thick fibre of the carpet, to remove any and all traces of the shattered vase. Smilingly deviously, she circled the couch, muttering to herself.

"Did I? I could have sworn...!" Flustered wasn´t working for her, so she switched tones. "Did I? Oh Draco, I´m so sorry!" Making a face at herself, Ginny continued in the same fashion for a few moments, satisfying herself with "Whoops! Fancy me forgetting that."

Sitting at her kitchen table, Ginny poured herself a cup of very strong coffee. She waited. She thought she heard someone shifting, then a groan of annoyance and two feet hitting the floor. A pause.

A manly - to give Draco some credit - howl of indignant pain invaded the silence. Ginny almost fell off her chair laughing, but restrained herself, beating down the laughter in favour of a puzzled expression. Draco limped into the kitchen and pointed an accusing finger at her.

"You," he growled, "did not clean up. You left the ceramic horror in...in little, sharp pieces in the carpet."

"Whoops," she replied, her practised tone sounding perfectly clueless, "Fancy me forgetting that. And it was porcelain. Ugly porcelain yes, but porcelain all the same."

"I don´t care what it was!" he exclaimed incredulously. "It hurt!"

Suddenly it struck Ginny how ridiculous he looked, standing there in his pinstriped pyjamas, shirt wrinkled and open at the neck, gesturing wildly as if heralding a taxi in New York. She barely managed to smother a giggle. But her laughter had a mind of its own, and before she could stop them, the giggles reproduced themselves, flowing out of her mouth one after another. She shook with mirth until tears rolled down her face and she was bent over, clutching her stomach and virtually howling her amusement. Ginny tried, in vain, to stop. It was useless. Meanwhile Draco was regarding her with a wary curiosity usually reserved for the mentally unstable. At length, Ginny regained her solemnity, wiping the tears from her eyes with an offhand gesture and rising from her seat.

"Well, I have to go to work," she declared with an air of finality. "You best get yourself together before I get home at three, we´ve got a lot of things to do. Death Eaters and all," she waved a hand dismissively and swept her things into her black messenger bag.

"Three? Early day,"

"Yes. First day only. Some sort of policy," the door slammed shut before Draco could say goodbye. Not that he wanted to, of course. Numbly he sorted through his clothes, looking for an appropriate outfit for a fat lot of talking.

Ginny, meanwhile, was already in her office up the stairs at Turncoats - first door on the left. For the most part of the day, she sorted through the various descriptions of Death Eaters in hiding. Who honestly cared about the mass of paperwork on her desk? At the end of the day she´d just use the Cheating Charm Fred and George had taught her.

So far she was on the look out for four of Voldemort´s followers: Mark Delaney, Blaise Zabini, Marcus Flint and Bernice Folyam. None of them had been seen in three to five years. All of them were presumed dead to the general public. Obviously the Ministry of Magic thought otherwise. When the Dark Lord had been defeated, most of the Death Eaters had been sent to Azkaban or worse, but these four...they still wandered freely. Ginny could no sooner remember what any of them looked like than she could the President of France in the fourteenth century. This was probably because there was no President of France in the fourteenth century. Or was there?

Ginny neither knew nor cared, her vision was starting to blur and her eyes were drooping. The paper dropped from her hand to floor as her fatigue took root and grew. The pen in her hand fell to the desk as she slumped forward. Perhaps staying up until one in the morning and getting up early had adverse effects, she thought absently. Pulling herself together just enough to gather her informative papers and stuff them in her bag, she resigned herself to a quick nap on her desk.

At four o´clock she awoke to a voice.

"Staying late; how admirable, Miss Weasley." The saccharine sarcasm ripped her from dreamland and into the far less desirable present. She looked up at the formidable figure of Mrs. Fairleisse with embarrassment.

"I´m sorry, Ms. Fairleisse, I really am. I stayed up late last night and I just put my head down for a second and..."

"I am not interested in your excuses, Miss Weasley. I trust you will be late going home tomorrow to make up for lost time." It was not a question.

"Yes ma´am." Inwardly she laughed at this woman; her false sense of power over her employees must have started with Percy the Pushover. Ginny would stay twenty minutes, if that, and hand in every piece of paperwork she´d been assigned, with help from the Cheating Charm. All the same, she forced humility into her voice.

"Do not mock me, Miss Weasley, you´ll find I have no sense of humour."

"But I wasn´t..." She quailed under the intense glare she received from the stout woman and gathered her things. "Yes, Mrs. Fairleisse," she slipped past her and into the hall, eager to get away from her prying, knowing eyes. Halfway down the stairs she heard a tremulous voice.

"But Melinda, I can explain, it´s just that it was starting to wear off and..."

"Idiot! I can´t believe that you would..."

Ginny tramped down the rest of the stairs, and into an alley, where she Apparated home. It was against the rules, but she wanted to get to her flat quickly. She would have stayed to hear the rest of the conversation on a normal day, but she had far too much to discuss with Draco and far too little patience for anything else the Fairleisse woman might have to say - directed at her or not.

In her flat it was quiet...too quiet. "Malfoy?" she asked tentatively. "Malfoy, I swear, if you aren´t here I´m just going to change the locks and..."

"Hello." Draco stepped out from behind the door abruptly and watched in concealed amusement as Ginny clutched her heart. She drew in a slow breath, determined not to let him know she´d been scared. She straightened moodily.

"We have work to do, Malfoy." Draco appeared nonplussed by this news. He leaned against the wall and shrugged loftily, smirking when he caught sight of Ginny´s frown.

"Problem, Virginia?" Ginny glared at him malevolently, deliberately pushing past him into the living room. She sat on the couch with a huff.

"Don´t push me, Malfoy, I´ve had a bad day and I´m not going to take any of your crap. Remember our school motto? Never tickle a sleeping dragon? Well today that dragon happens to be my temper, so sod off." Draco was momentarily at a loss, and so was silent. Ginny went on, her words picking up speed. "So now you´re going to tell me exactly what these bloody Death Eaters are doing here and how best for me to get them in Azkaban, where they belong. You´re also going to tell me why that miniature Goyle was chasing me last night, and if possible, throw in why you turned to the light side."

"You know," he purred smoothly, completely ignoring her rant. "My name means dragon..." Ginny blinked.

"I know, so what? My name means vir...look, I didn´t take you in here to discover the wonderful world of names, okay?"

"Your name means virginal," he said, eyeing her. Something flashed in his grey eyes as he sidled over to the couch. He sat down beside her, and Ginny shuffled farther over.

"We´re here for a reason. Talk, Malfoy,"

"Alright," he said. His voice didn´t alter from the husky drawl he´d adopted. Ginny shifted uncomfortably. What was he playing at? "I´ll talk."

He shifted closer, and Ginny moved over another foot. He reached up a hand and toyed with a strand of her hair. "You´re driving me crazy." He tried to run his hand along her jaw, but she swatted it away angrily.

"Don´t give me that, Malfoy. I know who you are." Draco smiled mockingly.

"Everyone knows who I am, Virginia, but how many know what I am?"

"You´re a prat," said Ginny lightly, trying to relieve the situation of the intense, claustrophobic vibe.

"Do you trust me, Virginia?" he asked abruptly. Ginny sucked in a breath.

"Not as far as I could throw you."

"Ah," he whispered. "But you´re wrong. You trust me, Virginia, because who else do you have to trust? Your family? They ignore you. Your friends? You don´t have any - not really. The great Harry Potter, who abandoned you? Hardly. Oh, but look at me. I saved your life and I come with the Dumbledore seal of approval, don´t I? I´m safe."

"Harry Potter isn´t safe," she said, shaking her head. "Harry Potter is an idiot in a giant world of idiots. And I have news for you; he saved my life too, and he´s got more stamps of approval than I can count. Big deal. That doesn´t make someone safe."

"Yet you trust me anyway," he said. "Foolish girl. But no matter, I´m glad you do." He strode off to the bathroom, where she heard water running moments later.

Ginny knew that Draco had only meant to mess with her head, probably trying to see just how much of her emotional baggage he could bring to the surface. It didn´t bother her so much as she resented him for it. Because everything he´d said to her was true. She did trust him, and she was stupid to do so. It was pathetic, and more importantly, it was dangerous. What gave him the credibility to earn her trust? Probably nothing, Ginny mused, it´s just like he said. I can´t trust anybody else, so I throw it on the first person that comes along. She grumbled fiercely, remembering that she hadn´t even been able to speak to him seriously. Stupid Malfoy and his stupid stunts...oh well, eventually he´ll tell me all I need to know. Dammit...must...not...trust...Malfoy...

Determined to drag it out of him, she stormed up to the bathroom door and hammered on the flimsy wood. She heard something crack rather loudly, but ignored it.

"MALFOY!" The door opened abruptly, and Ginny almost fell forward into Draco, just managing to keep her balance.

"You know Virginia, I think at this point in our relationship, you can call me Draco." Ginny blinked and looked at him blankly. Then she realized he was wearing only a towel and covered her eyes with a shriek.

"I´m blind! Oh Merlin, I´m blind!" She could hear Draco grousing under his breath as he closed the door, shuffled around a bit, and opened it again.

"Better?" Cautiously she removed her hands from her eyes and found Draco in his pants, but still shirtless.

"Shirt," she said, looking pointedly at the ground. He sighed. "I´m not having this conversation until you´re wearing a shirt."

"There!" he said a second later. She looked up to find him in the black silk shirt he´d been wearing before, completely unbuttoned. Ginny lost all patience for him.

"Are you determined to walk around my flat half naked?" she demanded. Seizing the open sides of his shirt, she quickly buttoned the row, leaving the first few open so he wouldn´t choke. Not that she wouldn´t enjoy that, but some find it hard to talk while asphyxiating. He smiled down at her, catching her hand as she slipped the last black disk into its hole.

"You´re funny."

"You´re not. Can we talk now, Malfoy, or are you just going to annoy me all night and casually mention their true identities when we meet them? Because that´s somewhat less than helpful,"

"Fine, fine," he said impatiently, brushing aside her obvious annoyance. "Your first demand, as ordered: they want the Dark years to come before Potter can stop them. But they don´t want to do it as Voldemort´s lackeys. No, they´re in it to become the next signed and stamped rulers of the universe - have their own little faction and everything. It´d all be very quaint, if they had a hope in hell. How to send them to Azkaban? You´re the Ministry mogul, why don´t you tell me? I do, however know that they operate out of a small nightclub called Death Spiral, under the names of Morgana, Starr, Cedrik and Luke. They´ve altered their appearances beyond recognition, but the names you can trace.

Goyle is somewhat of a mystery. He´s stupid - he´ll blab on and on about Death Eater meetings in the middle of a Muggle street, as you may have noticed. He´s a renegade of sorts. Lenny ran out on his father at ten, got the Dark Mark by twelve, when Voldemort was still alive, and was on the streets by the ripe old age of fourteen - the year he died. He´s only fifteen right now, and that´s frightening enough. But I also have reason to believe he´s somewhat of an informant for the D.S. crowd. Nothing concrete, just a suspicion. Maybe he was set on you because they know you´re the spy. Maybe he told them you were the spy and went after you himself. Maybe he just wanted a good snog. Whatever the reason, I´d keep an eye out for him, if I were you,"

Ginny applauded slowly, sarcastically. "That leaves only one question unanswered. Why the light side?"

"That´s absolutely none of your business,"

"Fine, later then,"

"What makes you think I´ll tell you later?" Ginny smiled.

"I have my ways. So, to Death Spiral!" She threw her bag over her shoulder and tramped down the stairs, an irritated Draco trailing behind her.

He grumbled as they walked, but did not question how she knew the way, despite making several wrong turns. He didn´t bother to correct her; he was rather absorbed in thinking out an appropriate cover story. When they finally did stop in front of the small club, the blacked windows less threatening in the daylight, Ginny waited patiently to be debriefed on the plan. She was somewhat less than impressed with the lack thereof.

"What the hell do you mean you don´t have a plan? You´re the contact, it´s your job to have a plan!"

"I´m a man of the moment."

"Well the moment is now Malfoy, so unless you have a really bright idea I´m just going to go for `switching sides.´" Draco snorted.

"That was the exact same ploy you people used to try to bring down Voldemort in the first place," his voice raised to a shrill falsetto. "Oh, Voldie dearest, I just wasn´t getting enough evil as top Auror for the light side, please take me in!"

"But unless I´ve missed something, this batch isn´t much smarter, are they?"

"Be that as it may, Virginia..."

"Do you have a better strategy?"

"No, but..." Ginny held up a hand, blocking further protests, and walked into the club muttering something along the lines of `Slytherin´, `cunning´ and `bah´.

The room was completely unimpressive, and Ginny surmised that it really was quite a dingy place without the lights and the loud clothing of the dancers. The floor was scuffed and black, the walls were scratched and black, the few tables skirting the dancing area were (surprisingly) black and poorly treated. Some were missing legs, others missing the top of the table, and the general upkeep of the entire club looked as though it had fallen into the hands of giant rats. The four supposed Death Eaters, plus Goyle - the younger - stood in a line behind the bar.

It was quite a stereotypical Slytherin hideout. Too stereotypical for Ginny´s tastes. It seemed a little off, as thought they weren´t trying hard enough to camouflage their operation. In fact the whole situation seemed a little off, from Malfoy´s sudden comradelier to the strange accent and behaviour of `Morgana´ the barkeep. The convenient presence of all five possible suspects was a little too over the top for her to believe. All in all, the case was a little too easy.

The numbers that didn´t add up swirled through her head; Draco calling her Virginia instead of Weasley, the flirting, the testing of boundaries. All preludes to the grande finale, the big question. Will you follow me if I let you lead? Will you trust me? Will you...

In the fleeting moment before her vision blanked, hit by too many Stupefys for a small person, she realized the third question Draco had been indirectly asking her was: Will you fall for it?

I updated! The joy! The wonder!

It took me two weeks just to fix the punctuation >.< I think I was drunk when I wrote it or something. Til next time! (It will be a long time)