Four Weddings & A Funeral

Chapter Seventeen

When Latro opened the curtains the next morning, Ginny had already been lying awake for some time, keeping her eyes closed to avoid having to look at the Death Eater guarding her. As the little house-elf climbed onto the chair beside her bed, she opened her eyes so that he would know she was awake. Ginny thought he seemed even more nervous than usual today and put it down to the presence of the Death Eater. As he moved her to the chair, she could just see enough through the French doors to know that it was a dreary, overcast day. How fitting, she thought miserably, that the sky mirrors my state of mind.

When Latro guided her back to the chair after taking her to bathroom, Ginny felt a jolt of relief to see that the Death Eater had gone from her room. As she sat and waited, she wondered whether Malfoy had succeeded in getting Harry to come to the Manor the day before, although knowing Hermione was here she had no doubts really that Harry would come. Her mind returned inexorably to Dean and the torture of not being able to talk to him and tell him she was alive and as yet, unhurt although she couldn't exactly call her treatment at Malfoy's hands exemplary. Even the fact that Draco was here while Dean wasn't, would be like a knife in Dean's heart, she knew. The one thing she did avoid thinking about was what Lucius had in store for them. She was sure, after the wretched fiasco he'd forced on her and Draco together with comments he'd made, that he relished the emotional torture of his victims rather than the physical. Ginny closed her eyes as tears slowly trickled down her checks unchecked. She could only hold on to the belief that Harry and Dumbledore would be able to get them all out of this predicament.

*

Hermione woke just as a wretched looking house-elf was drawing the curtains in her room to reveal miserable looking grey clouds covering the sky. A glance to her right and she could see the Death Eater was still standing guard but at least he wasn't staring at her any longer. The house-elf moved her to an old, wooden chair placed beside the bed and began to feed her some cold toast followed by a glass of pumpkin juice. She tried to catch his eye - she felt sympathy for this poor creature and murderous indignation at his obvious neglect, harking back to the days of S.P.E.W. - but the sad little elf, whilst treating her with the utmost gentleness, wouldn't meet her gaze. When she'd finished eating, Hermione was grateful to be partially released from her magic binding (though she felt as though she was "hobbled" and knew she would be unable to do more than shuffle) to use the bathroom and was pleased to see the Death Eater was gone when she returned her to the chair. The house-elf muttered the spell that immobilised her once more then left, her empty breakfast tray bobbing along behind him. Hermione's thoughts turned to Harry and despite knowing they were all in danger, she felt better knowing he was here, in the same house. She closed her eyes, picturing again the sight of Harry in the doorway the previous day - while that hideous Death Eater held his wand to her heart. She'd noticed what he was wearing and it had warmed her heart because she knew he'd done it deliberately - for her. And he was here. He was near.

'Miss Granger.'

Hermione's eyes flew around the room looking for the source of the sibilant whisper that had sounded like her name.

'Miss Granger, it is I, Phineas Nigellus.'

Hermione's eyes moved to the row of three landscapes hanging on the wall the other side of the bed. She thought she could make out a shadow in the centre painting.

'Yes, what is it?' she asked, her heart racing.

'I am endeavouring to speak to each of you - Miss Weasley, young Mr Malfoy, yourself and Mr Potter - to let you know that you are currently all well. I have seen each of you this morning - you are now all awake and have had something to eat. The guards have left all your rooms and are currently downstairs with Mr Malfoy which is why I am able to speak to you. I must move quickly though to ensure I speak to each of you; I do not know how long I have. Professor Dumbledore and Mr Longbottom have taken my portrait to the Weasley's home and they are all there, awaiting my report. Good day, Miss Granger.'

'Phineas?' but Hermione knew he was gone - the shadow was no longer evident in the picture. At least she knew everyone was all right for now. How long, she wondered, before that changed...

*

Harry knew it would be hopeless but he nevertheless tried to Apparate to Hermione's room on the floor above; thanks to Phineas, he knew she was alone there now. Nothing happened, as he'd expected - the Anti-Apparition Spell Malfoy used must be as strong as the one in place at Hogwarts. Harry began pacing the floor of his rather cramped room, impatient for action. He needed everyone together, in the same room, and then he would be able to act.

*

Draco Malfoy was the last one to receive Phineas' message, so decided by Phineas as he had extra information for his grandson-thrice-removed. After advising Draco that the other captives were fed and well, he added, 'The Headmaster has asked me to tell you, at my discretion, about your mother's current condition.' Draco had held his breath as he waited for Phineas to speak again. 'She has been taken gravely ill and is currently in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. She is receiving every care possible.'

Draco had dropped on to the bed, his head clutched in his hands. Although he had known his mother was dying for some time now, he felt torn by the knowledge that he may not see her again. Please let her live until I can see her again - don't let her die before I get there! He looked up, intending to ask Phineas to report to him as often as possible about his mother's condition - but Phineas was gone.

*

Lucius Malfoy surveyed the large drawing room with satisfaction. 'Well done,' he told his cowering house-elf, 'now go.' Latro scuttled eagerly from the room, using magic to close the heavy, carved wooden doors behind him, leaving Malfoy and one of the hooded Death Eaters alone.

The large, rectangular room overlooked the side garden of the manor - a row of tall, rounded windows above mullioned French doors lead out onto a tiled terrace running the full length of high-ceilinged room.

There were windows at each end but deep-green velvet drapes had been drawn across them all; the heavy, leaden sky outside lent a dull greyness to the almost empty room. Two high-backed, comfortable armchairs, upholstered in deep red velvet, had been placed with their backs to the front windows, a round, marble-topped Victorian tea table between them; a silver tray, which held two crystal decanters and a cluster of crystal goblets, sat on the table. There was no other furniture in the room - no form of adornment at all; no paintings or mirrors hung on the walls which held only regularly spaced ornate sconces. Malfoy waved his hand and the three candles in each sconce lit themselves, throwing flickering shadows across the polished wooden floor. He then seated himself in one of the armchairs, placing his wand on the table.

'Nott, bring Draco and the Weasley witch down. Bring Carrows back with you, too.'

As Nott left to do his bidding, Malfoy settled himself comfortably, turgid with malicious anticipation for what he was about to do. How easily these fools allow themselves to be manipulated, he thought with contempt, a smile reminiscent of his former master's curling the corners of his mouth. He was going to enjoy this.

Draco and Ginny preceded the two Death Eaters into the room, the carved wooden doors closing magically behind them, Lucius watching with undisguised pleasure as Ginny walked in with faltering steps, Draco hovering by her side anxiously. Lucius snapped his fingers and when Draco glanced up at him, he pointed peremptorily at the vacant armchair beside him.

'Sit.' Lucius picked up his wand as he issued this command.

Mindful of the callous infliction of pain he knew his father to be capable of, Draco quickly moved to obey.

Ginny stopped as Draco moved off, fiercely concentrating on staying upright, Nott and Callows coming to a halt, one each side of her.

'Nott, take her to the other end - Carrows, you come here.'

As Nott grabbed Ginny's arm just above the elbow and began pulling her along, Draco's hands curled into fists, his knuckles white. Lucius looked across at him and could see the muscle along his son's jaw jerking as he clenched his teeth - the sight made him smile again. I am going to enjoy this, he thought again, his red gaze full of cruel expectation. Draco could feel his father's gaze on him but chose to ignore it, keeping his eyes on Ginny who was now standing about twenty feet away, swaying on her feet despite Nott maintaining his grasp on her arm.

What the hell is the foul bastard going to do? he wondered, feeling tension take control of his whole body as he kept his gaze upon Ginny, wanting more than anything to run to her and enfold her in his arms - to protect her from the monster that his father had become and anything he might do.

When his father spoke as though he'd said this aloud, Draco's head whipped around, flinching as his grey eyes met his father's hideous red gaze.

Lucius' lip curled sneeringly. 'I'm not going to physically hurt your beloved traitor, Draco; I find physical torture rather crude, base and unlovely. I much prefer the nuance of disturbed emotions - emotions that can be plucked like the strings of a harp so that a melody is released - a melody of joy, terror, fear, sadness, despair, despondency - an unending melody, as endless as the myriad emotions of which each individual is capable.'

Draco felt nausea swirling greasily in his stomach. His father sounded pleased and - was it possible? - happy; he was deriving pleasure just from the thought of inflicting some form of emotional torture. Draco was rocked by an unpreventable shudder passing through him - who was being tortured here, he wondered, Ginevra? Me? Or the both of us...

Lucius leaned over and picking up one of the decanters and a goblet, poured what looked like thick, dark mud into the goblet. Without looking at Carrows, he held out his hand and Carrows placed a small, glass phial in his master's palm. 'Did you have any trouble getting this?' asked Lucius as he extracted a single, black hair from the phial, holding it up to study it.

'None, Lord Malfoy. Potter isn't stupid - I didn't even need to remind him that Miss Granger would suffer if he didn't comply.'

Ginny, on hearing Harry and Hermione's names, had looked up just in time to see Lucius drop the black hair into the goblet, watching as it bubbled sluggishly, the colour slowly changing to the palest mint green.

Polyjuice Potion! Dear Merlin, what was he planning? Ginny fought against the weakness in her legs, the nausea in her stomach and the pain in her heart. Her gaze moved from the goblet in Lucius' hand to Draco, only to find his eyes fixed on her and even from this distance she could see the fear in them. She gave him a crooked smile as if to say, we're better, you and I - somehow we'll win and he'll lose! Then she realised that for the first time, in her mind, she'd included Draco Malfoy on her side - and shivered, feeling that this was somehow intrinsically wrong. Dean! She felt tears well in her eyes as her husband's name reverberated in her head. I will concentrate on you, on our love...Draco Malfoy doesn't matter...his father even less... Draco's eyes were still fixed on her as though trying to convey sympathy and support for her and she found she couldn't look away - it helped to know that he was on her side...he was the only one there who was...

Before she could pursue this avenue of thought any further, Lucius handed the goblet to Carrows who was standing beside him; the Death Eater took it and with a smirk at his master, threw down the contents in one gulp.

Ginny felt her knees sag and if Nott hadn't grabbed at her she would've fallen to the floor. Carrows' features began to soften and merge into a formless nothing before coalescing once more - only now Ginny was gazing upon Harry's black, messy mop of hair - his green eyes gazing at her through his glasses with that infamous scar clearly visible beneath his fringe. This pseudo-Harry was wearing black jeans and a finely knitted green jumper - Hermione's favourite "get up" as Harry often - and smilingly - told them. That's what he's worn to come here! thought Ginny; Harry had chosen those clothes as a form of defiance and even if Malfoy wasn't aware of it, she knew and Hermione would know. Ginny felt a fierce stab of victory as though Malfoy had been bested at something.

But as the transformation finished and Harry stood grinning at her, Ginny couldn't prevent the soft moan that escaped her. 'No!' she whispered, closing her eyes, her head dropping; she had no idea what Lucius had in mind but she was becoming more afraid by the second.

Draco had sucked air in through clenched teeth as he watched the transformation - not wanting to contemplate what his father might be planning, the nausea in his stomach increasing.

Lucius stood, his wand pointed at Ginny - he stared at her and she seemed unable to tear her eyes away from his; a minute later he was laughing as Ginny fell to her knees. Turning to Draco, whose eyes hadn't left Ginny's forlorn figure, Lucius said, 'So, Potter and this traitor had a little fling back in their sixth year? Did you know that Draco?' This was going to make it so much easier, he thought triumphantly as he sat once more.

'Yes,' said Draco, the word wrenched from him. Who at Hogwarts couldn't be aware of Potter and his best mate's sister and their very public move into a romantic relationship? Draco thought bitterly. His gaze moved to his father's inhuman countenance, puzzlement in his eyes. How did he know about it? It had only lasted a matter of weeks. He'd certainly never mentioned it to his parents at the time or since. And besides, so what? It was years ago and no longer mattered - it had only mattered in the first place because it had been The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One...

'How would you feel if they revisited that time - that relationship? I have a very clear picture from the traitor's memories of what they did - would you like to see?' Legilimency! The word rang in Draco's mind - that's how his father had extracted the information from Ginevra! Then, as Lucius waved his wand towards Ginny, his other hand gesturing to Carrows-now-Harry, Draco recognised once again the symptoms of the Imperius Curse his father had just placed on Ginevra. Then as Potter - Carrows - walked towards Ginny's kneeling figure, Nott stepped away from her, moving back to lean against the wall as he too smirked, anticipation plainly evident on his face.

Ginny slowly rose to her feet - a smile on her face as her eyes sought Draco - her smile becoming wider when she saw him. He couldn't know that the voice in Ginny's head was telling her once again how much Draco loved her, persuading her to go to him, kiss him - but he was able to recognise this was almost a replay of the fiasco his father had forced them to perform - was it really three days ago? - and that's when Draco thought he might actually be sick. This form of torture his father had devised was truly ugly and he could do nothing to prevent it. That in itself was a form of torture and he saw then that this would be a multi-layered torture. Ginny was suffering because even while under the Imperius Curse she would later have feelings of betrayal towards her husband while he, Draco, suffered knowing that the mind of the woman he loved was being violated and he was powerless to help her. If he had his wand, he knew he'd be capable of killing him at that moment.

Draco sprang to his feet, unable to help himself, pain ripping through him.

'Stop!' he cried, anguish in his voice. 'Do what you like with me, but leave her out of it!'

Lucius laughed out loud, the sound echoed by both Nott and Carrows. This was going perfectly!

Draco fell back into the armchair, defeated; he knew he was playing right into his father's hands by letting him see how much he was being affected.

Ginny was once more feeling gloriously happy - she could see Draco and she was walking towards him - he would welcome her, she knew - the voice in her head told her so and it knew everything. Then suddenly, she could no longer see Draco - someone was standing in front of her - saying her name softly. She looked up at him, recognition blossoming.

'Harry?' What was Harry doing here?

'Hi, Ginny.'

Potter loves you too - remember how you once loved him? the voice said in her head; Ginny felt mildly confused. But what about Draco? she wondered.

The voice in her head sounded highly amused. This is the wonderful dilemma, Ginny - Draco loves you and Potter loves you! Harry loves me? But Harry loves Hermione! And he loves you, too, the voice said.

Ginny looked up at Harry, a frown creasing her brow. I don't think that's right, she thought, Harry only loves Hermione, I'm sure! And I love Dean, don't I?

Lucius Malfoy rose abruptly from his seat, fury rising in him because this wasn't going as he wanted. Not being privy to the silent exchange between his father and Ginny, Draco had been sitting on the edge of his seat, wondering what was going to happen next, his view of Ginevra blocked by Carrows-as-Potter. When his father sprang to his feet, Draco wondered if perhaps something was going wrong. He hoped so.

'Carrows! Come back here - get away from her!' spat Lucius. Carrows did as he was told, looking sullen; he'd been looking forward to tormenting the pretty little blood traitor. Forcing himself to be calm, Lucius resumed his seat, once more using the Curse to exert control over Ginny.

You're right - forget Potter. It's Draco that matters. Remember how happy you felt when you kissed him?

Ginny's puzzled frown melted from her forehead and she once more looked at Draco. I did, didn't I? she mused, all other thoughts drifting away.

Yes indeed, the voice agreed. You were happy, Draco was happy, I was happy - everyone was happy!

Yes! There was only happiness! She smiled at Draco, wondering why he looked so sad. I will make him happy, she thought, I will go to him, put my arms around him and kiss him and he will be happy too.

That's wonderful! the voice exclaimed exultantly. Go to him! Only you can make him happy!

As Ginny walked slowly towards him, Draco realised his father must once more have the situation under control.

'Stand up Draco,' his father ordered and he did so, never again wanting to witness Ginevra suffering the pain of the Cruciatus Curse because of him.

'She wants to make you happy,' said his father mockingly as Ginny stopped in front of him, her hands sliding up the front of his silk robes, her fingers interlocking at the back of his neck. 'Don't stop her Draco. Help her to make you happy.'

Lucius once more felt content with his control of the situation, dismissing his error in trying to include Potter in this little scenario and smiling as he watched his son succumb to his deep-seated feelings for this wretched traitor, watching as Draco closed his eyes so that he wouldn't have to see the happy yet horribly empty look in Ginevra's eyes as she smiled up at him, watching as Ginny gently pulled on Draco's neck to bring his head down, closer, so she could kiss him.

Forgive me, Ginevra! he cried in his mind as he felt soft, sweet lips claim his, felt himself swept away by the wonder of her kiss. She pressed the length of her slight, strong frame against him, forcing a groan from the depths of his being, his arms tightening around her waist and back. He knew an agony of despair and joy when she opened her mouth and he knew he was irrevocably lost - the sensations overwhelming his whole body couldn't be ignored or denied, despite knowing his father was watching. When her warm, insistent tongue pushed into his mouth all thoughts of his father's presence flew from his mind and he gave himself over to pure sensation, revelling in it.

Lucius smirked, feeling a pleasurable rush brought about by the knowledge that he was responsible for this - that his traitorous son was simultaneously enjoying himself whilst also suffering. He knew Draco would endlessly berate himself afterwards for allowing his feelings to overwhelm him, knowing his touch could only disgust the woman he held in his arms. As Lucius thought of what this would also do to Ginny later, he laughed once more, looking at Carrows who returned the look, grinning widely, forgetting for the moment that he'd been sulking over the loss of his own chance to torment this beautiful, young witch. Nott watched from the other end of the room, finding the sight of "Harry Potter" sharing a moment with Lucius Malfoy supremely amusing.

As Ginny pulled back slightly from the kiss, smiling against Draco's lips, she asked softly, 'You liked that, didn't you?'

'Yes,' he breathed, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged.

'I made you happy,' she stated confidently.

'Oh, yes,' he whispered, the pain in his heart a sickening contrast to the joy brought by her touch.

'Step away from her,' he heard his father say. He gently pulled Ginny's arms from around his neck, holding her hands in his, giving in to an irresistible urge to drop a kiss on the back of each of her small hands. Then he stepped aside as he dropped her hands, Ginny's eyes remaining on him, glowing vacantly.

'Somnus sopor,' said his father, waving his wand offhandedly at Ginny. She immediately crumpled, Draco catching her just in time to prevent her head hitting the floor. He turned and glared at his father over his shoulder.

'I thought you said you weren't going to hurt her physically,' he said through clenched teeth.

'I knew you'd catch her,' his father said carelessly, gesturing towards the armchair Draco had been sitting in. 'Sit her up in your seat; I'd like to have a few words with our red-headed traitor.'

Draco gently lifted her and placed her in the armchair, her head leaning against the curved back. Lucius conjured another armchair indicating to Draco he should take it; when he did, he was sitting directly opposite Ginny, his knees only a few feet from hers; he could see her face clearly.

When his father muttered, 'Incedo,' his wand flicking at Ginny, she immediately awoke, looking up with a confused expression, her hands tightly clutching the arms of the lounge.

Draco visibly flinched when the first thing she saw was him - and he could see the pain and revulsion in her eyes.

Because of me! he despaired, holding her gaze, attempting to beg her forgiveness and understanding with his eyes. Lucius' harsh voice cut into his consciousness.

'Is your mother dead yet?'

Draco froze; Ginny's head whipped around to stare at Lucius, his red eyes gleaming with unhealthy pleasure in the distorted mask that was his face.

'What did you say?' Draco's voice was a hoarse whisper.

Ginny tore her eyes from Lucius' hideously smirking countenance and looked once more at Draco. He was sitting with his eyes closed, unmoving, pain in every line of his face and body.

'I asked you whether your mother is dead yet.'

Damn you! thought Ginny viciously. What sort of monster is capable of doing this to his own son? And talking like that about his own wife?

'Draco,' her voice was so soft he thought he'd imagined hearing it until he opened his eyes to look across at her and saw sympathy in her soft brown gaze as she repeated his name, 'Draco?'

After everything he'd been forced to endure since coming to his old home he felt at this moment he could take no more. Keeping his gaze locked with Ginny's and drawing strength from the fact that she could still feel sorry for him despite what he'd been forced to do to her, he managed to force an answer past the painful tightness in his throat.

'I don't know.'

Lucius gave a short, harsh laugh before saying in a deceptively calm tone, 'I do.' Draco wasn't to know that he was lying. Lucius took a deep breath - he was beginning to feel real excitement now, his heart rate increasing and he wondered if his son would be able to maintain his self-control. He hoped not.

Tearing his gaze from Ginny, Draco glared at his father, his hatred flashing in his eyes.

'You are her murderer!' he snarled.

Lucius shrugged. 'She doesn't matter.' He let Draco see his eyes move to Ginny.

'So, traitor, how are you feeling now?'

Ginny glared back at him. 'None of your bloody business,' she spat at him.

'Oh, my dear, tut tut! Such rudeness!' He lifted his wand, 'Perhaps a little pain will -'

'NO!' roared Draco as he stood up, towering over his father. 'Enough!'

Excellent! He's having trouble controlling himself. Lucius felt another pleasurable rush sweep through him.

'Sit down now or she will feel pain.' His father's voice held real menace and Draco forced himself to sit once more.

'I alone will say when it is enough.' He turned back to Ginny. 'Perhaps, despite your revulsion for my son, you will nevertheless be affected by his pain if you are the cause.'

Ginny's eyes swung back to Draco; she looked horrified.

'It doesn't matter what he does to me,' said Draco, putting every ounce of persuasion he could into his words, 'you are not to blame, you are not responsible! Don't let him manipulate you!'

'Crucio!'

Ginny's hands flew to her face, covering her eyes but not before she saw Draco's body arch convulsively as the pain of the Curse threw him to his back on the floor, his face contorted with agony and the effort of not screaming.

Ginny groaned, inwardly cursing Lucius Malfoy as her hands fell from her face, unable to prevent herself from sliding to the floor to kneel beside Draco's pain-ridden form, tears forming in her eyes as she looked down at him. As the first tear trickled slowly down her cheek, his whole body suddenly sagged, the Curse lifted; his hair was plastered down with sweat and he was panting, his eyes closed.

'I - thought - you - said - physical - torture...' he gasped haltingly, unable to finish.

'I don't see that as physical torture,' Lucius' cold voice cut across his son's, 'that was merely a tool which I find very useful in helping me to manipulate others.' He took a deep breath to steady himself - he hadn't enjoyed anything this much since his wife had left.

Ginny turned, her mouth twisted with disgust, and just as she was about to fling a reply at Lucius she felt Draco's hand take hers, squeezing gently as he whispered, 'No, ignore him, please...'

Ginny looked down at him once more, watching as he slowly opened his eyes. 'Draco? Are you all right?' she asked, her voice a mere whisper.

He gave her a crooked smile. 'I've been better.'

Despite the tears falling down her cheeks, Ginny managed a small smile. 'Come on, I'll help you up.'

Her hand was still in Draco's and as she stood, she pulled so that he was sitting up, holding out her other hand for him to grasp.

'How touching,' sneered Lucius although he was in fact pleased. Despite it going against everything Ginny felt, a delicate bond was forming between her and Draco although she wasn't yet aware of it. Lucius Malfoy was.

Once they were both seated again, Lucius poured water from the second decanter into two goblets, handing them one each. They both sat, hesitant to drink.

Lucius smiled mockingly. 'Drink. It's just water.'

Draco held his hand up to Ginny so that she wouldn't drink, taking a sip from his goblet as he did so. He swallowed, waited a few seconds then nodded; it seemed to be just what his father said - water.

When they had emptied their goblets, both being very thirsty, Lucius ordered Nott to return Draco to his room while he and Carrows, who still looked like Harry as an hour hadn't yet passed, escorted Ginny upstairs. He felt charged through the sensations engendered by the morning's events.

When they bypassed the door to her room, Ginny wandered what was going to happen now. Lucius took them to the end of the landing, flung open the door of the last room and pushed her ahead of him. At the sight of Hermione sitting beside the bed Ginny found the 'No!' she'd been about to scream out didn't get past her throat - Lucius had once more put her under the Imperius Curse and she heard him laugh as Carrows-Harry, watched by a wide-eyed Hermione, grabbed her upper arms and drew her to him, dropping his head to kiss her, long and hard. There was no soothing, persuasive voice in her head this time - she simply felt no compulsion to fight anything that was done to her.

'Enough. Take her back to her room.' Carrows reluctantly removed his lips from Ginny's, grinning firstly down at her, then sideways at Hermione whose face held horrified disbelief. As he left, one hand still clutching Ginny's arm as he walked, Lucius looked steadily into Hermione's eyes and she became aware of a presence which seemed to be moving purposefully through her mind leaving uneasiness in its dark wake. It - he? - seemed to be searching for something and she found herself afloat in a sea of memories - or bits and pieces of memories, with no escape. The presence - was it Malfoy? - seemed to be sifting through them all - then she found herself immersed in the memory of the night of Ron and Luna's wedding - seeming to rush through it until the image of dancing with Seamus swirled in her head - along with Harry's jealousy. Then there was a strange stinging sensation in her head as though something had pounced and at that same instant she became aware she could see Lucius again - and he had a triumphantly malicious smile on his ghastly face. Hermione realised with dawning horror that Malfoy had just successfully used Legilimency on her. Listen to this Malfoy - you are a vile, disgusting, loathsome creature not worthy of either the name man or wizard! You are a filthy coward, Lucius Malfoy! Nothing but a cruel, repulsive COWARD! She hoped her words would be there for him to see if he ever entered her mind again, unasked - she hoped he would see and feel the scope of her hatred and disgust for him.

Your turn tomorrow, Mudblood,' he said in a soft, menacing voice with an undertone of anticipation. Then he left, gently closing the door behind him.

*

The evening of that same day, Molly Weasley was throwing frequent, nervous glances at the empty portrait now hanging a little crookedly on her kitchen wall, squeezed in between her cookbooks on the mantelpiece and the pots'n'pans cupboard. She was busy making yet another pot of tea as they waited for Phineas Nigellus to appear in his temporarily relocated portrait and tell them what had been happening at Malfoy Manor that day, "them" consisting of Arthur, Dean, Ron and Luna, Fred and George, Neville and Priscilla and Professor Dumbledore.

Cups of tea poured - glasses of firewhiskey refreshed for some - they sat and waited, conversation at a minimum. Phineas had made a brief appearance in Neville's office that morning and told him he'd definitely have something to report that evening; Neville had asked him to use his portrait at the Burrow in consideration of the Weasleys and also of the fact that it wouldn't then matter what time Phineas made his appearance.

When a curt, 'Good evening,' came from the no-longer blank portrait, Dean almost dropped his glass, his attention immediately focused on Phineas who was looking coolly around the room at them all.

Dumbledore stood, nodding at Phineas. 'Good evening to you,' he replied courteously.

Phineas seemed to be eyeing each corner of his painting as though he knew it was a little crooked and wasn't pleased about it.

'Please tell us what has occurred since this morning,' prompted Dumbledore.

Phineas, looking a little petulant, sniffed and looked out at the old wizard.

'Dear Lucius has been having rather awful fun at the expense of Miss Weasley and his son. They were both taken down to the drawing room this morning but as there are no paintings whatsoever hanging in there it was necessary for me to wait until the younger Malfoy was in a state to talk to me to glean some idea of what took place.'

'Why couldn't he talk to you earlier?' demanded Dean, a sense of foreboding filling him on hearing Phineas' words, "at the expense of Miss Weasley and his son" - Ginny and Draco Malfoy! The thought of Malfoy having anything to do with Ginny was like poison coursing through his veins.

'He was extremely upset. I had told him two evenings prior that his mother was in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, gravely ill. I have no doubt that this news, together with his father's treatment of him and Miss Weasley was enough to prevent him from being coherent for a number of hours.' He didn't think it necessary to point out that Draco had curled upon his bed, unmoving, oblivious to Phineas' numerous, whispered calls for his attention. He'd gone to Ginny's room to find her sitting slumped in the chair beside her bed; he didn't know whether she was asleep or also oblivious to her surroundings.

'So what happened?' ground out Dean, wanting to know but not wanting to hear it.

Phineas then repeated the edited version of that morning's events as told to him by Draco who, out of consideration for Ginny, tried to play down various aspects of what Lucius had done. Even so, the bare facts of Ginny being put under the Imperius Curse (Draco still hadn't told Phineas of the first occasion that Lucius had used that on her) and being made to kiss him and then watch as Draco suffered the Crucio Curse - Lucius tormenting them both emotionally - including the fact that he used Narcissa's illness and death to taunt Draco further was extremely distressing to them all. When Phineas had finished speaking, Dean got up and walked out; he couldn't bear to talk about it all at that moment and desperately needed time to absorb and deal with this unwelcome information.

Dumbledore thanked Phineas before politely asking the former Headmaster to return to his vigil at Malfoy Manor. After shrugging as though unaffected by all that had happened, Phineas sauntered off, leaving the current Headmaster to sigh deeply.

'I don't quite know how to say this,' he began, looking around the table at the white, shocked faces, glad that Dean's wasn't among them, 'but Lucius Malfoy has become more dangerous than we thought possible. I received many reports about him during the time he was confined to Azkaban. It appears his pathological need for, and enjoyment of, mental control, manipulation and torment has increased enormously - he's had free reign for some time now - since his escape from Azkaban - and has increased his manipulative skills.' He decided against saying any more or going into details about the extent to which Ginny would be suffering, Draco also. He could only hope that somehow, very soon, Lucius would be unable to resist the temptation to have all his victims together, in one room...