Tears of Gold

Chapter Two

The new ministry called them outlaws, but they weren't outlaws. They were fighting for their lives, and the lives of their loved ones. They were fighting for the memory of a world that had been brighter and better. They were fighting for their freedom.

It had been seven years since the Boy Who Lived had led his armies against the Dark Lord. Their plan had been foolproof. But though Voldemort had been defeated, everything had backfired when Lucius Malfoy immediately rose to power.

The Order of the Phoenix had not been prepared, and they had been forced south, across the Channel to France, where they took shelter at Beauxbaton. Lucius Malfoy had taken power in London, and if they had been Muggles, the new ministry would have been called Communism.

People that were against the ministry were found dead in 'accidents,' or sometimes, they simply vanished. Magic was forbidden to all but Death Eaters. Food was rationed. A nine o' clock curfew was enforced. Magical folk were forbidden to enter or leave London.

There was no contest between the rebels and the Death Eaters, even in the beginning, but they fought on anyway - a group of brave, reckless group, loyal to a boy they believed would not abandon them, and led by the rash, headstrong woman known as Lady Jane.

***

The night air was still and soft. The black masked figure crept silently through the shadows of the richly furnished room.

He was waiting for her. He had known she would come. He had known that she would be unable to resist the challenge he had so mockingly issued. And he also knew that she would not expect him to be prepared.

Jenny Wesley was a challenge he could not resist.

He sat quietly on a chair in the shadows, his wand ready. He saw her flit toward his bed, her sword held ready. She threw back the covers -

And found it empty.

He leapt to his feet, twisted her arm behind her, and held his wand carefully at her throat.

"Looking for someone?" he asked, softly. She struggled against him, and he gave a low laugh. "If I were you, sweetheart, I wouldn't move like that," he said meaningfully. She went still instantly.

"Be still now, like a good girl," he said, and with a wave of his wand ropes sprang into the air and wrapped themselves around her. She struggled uselessly against the bonds.

"Now, let's see the face of the lovely thief who has all of London in an uproar."

He knew she would be beautiful. He had heard the stories of her vertical mask. Slowly, he reached out his hand and untied the cloth she wore around her face.

The face he saw made him freeze with utter shock.

Her right cheek had been shattered by a curse, he saw, and there was a long, thin scar running from her temple down the length of her face. That, he supposed, was why he only left half her face bare at most. It didn't spoil her clear-eyed beauty as much as might have been expected, but it wasn't so much the scar as the features that surprised him.

Ginny Weasley.

The girl that had been masquerading as Jenny Wesley, Lady Jane, he thought dully, was Ginny Weasley. Ginny Weasley, whose brothers still grieved for her in France. Ginny Weasley, who had vanished seven years before.

Questions flooded his mind. Why had she not tried to search for her brother? Why had she not gone to France with the others? How had she gotten that wand?

In his moment of preoccupation, he did not notice that she had drawn a long thin dagger from her belt and had slashed away her bonds. He saw the gleam of the blade just as it came towards him.

Not stopping to think now, he took hold of her wrist and with his superior strength managed to wrest it from her. She broke free of his grasp, picked up the sword she had dropped a minute before, and held it to her own throat.

"Don't come near me," she hissed, panting. "Don't you dare come near me. I'd rather die than let you touch me!"

He took a step towards her, not believing she'd do as she said.

To his horror, the blade whistled, gleaming in the darkness, and he only managed to deflect the blow. It went through her shoulder. Bright red blood burst from the wound. Noiselessly, she crumpled to the ground.

He picked her up, cursing, and laid her on the bed. Her long red hair fanned out against the white pillow. Carefully, he removed the airy white robes she wore, stained with blood.

He frowned as he examined the wound. It was too intricate for him to heal himself, and he did not dare call for any of the doctors, now that he knew who she was. The only thing he could do was fix it up the old fashioned way.

Summoning bandages and a pot of hot water, he gently cleansed the cut and staunched the flow of blood with a bandage. When there was nothing left to do, he bemusedly left the room, wondering what how he was going to inform the Weasleys that their sister was very much alive.

***

Jenny awoke from a dream of fire, and opened her eyes in haze of pain. Her shoulder felt like it was burning, and the rest of her didn't feel much better. She gasped as a sharp, searing pain cut through her as she tried to sit up. She lay back panting, her thoughts confused as she tried to remember what had happened. The vagueness began to sharpen in her mind and suddenly in a flash she knew. Draco Malfoy!

She glanced about her room, searching for him. It was empty. She put her trembling fingers to her temples and tried to think. She couldn't seem to gather her wits and act. First, she must escape. She must get away from the man who had caught her.

Pulling the coverlet over her shoulder, wincing with pain as she moved her arm, Jenny struggled from the bed, biting her lip to keep from crying out. She felt the warm blood from her shoulder trickle down her arm, feeling sticky between her fingers. Stumbling to the window she pressed her hot face against the cool pane and rubbed a spot clean of grime to peer out, but only darkness met her eyes. The simple task of opening the window became a tiring struggle. When she finally succeeded, cool air rushed in to bathe her flushed face.

She saw her robe lying crumpled on the floor across the room and slowly made her way to it. She was standing dumbly in front of it when the door was opened.

Draco to an astonished halt mid-stride as he saw the wounded, half-naked girl swaying before her heap of robes. Two eyes dark with pain stared up into his as he came to stand before her. His mouth tightened ominously as he noticed the blood dripping from her fingers.

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" he demanded angrily, then sighed as she swayed unsteadily. He caught her to him, forcing himself to ignore the way she felt so soft and warm in his arms. "Never mind. I already know the answer."

She continued to stare mutely up at him. She lifted a blood finger to touch his face, unaware of the glazed, feverish look in her eyes.

Draco felt the chill from the opened window and looked over at it in puzzlement until the truth dawn on him. His eyes narrowed.

"Trying to escape?" He lifted her in his arms and carried her back to the bed. His face swam before her eyes and she knew no more.