An Ideal Death-Eater

Author's notes: First, I'd like to thank Clairey and Alexis, as always, for their lovely beta reading jobs. You two are the best. Also, I'd like to address all of you Ron fans out there: this is the chapter you've all been waiting for. After this chapter, Ron seriously gets his own say in the story and starts to take a more active part in the events around him. Chapter 15 *the one you're about to read* is one of the most pivotal in the whole story, but not for the reasons you may think. This chapter delves a little more into what motivates Draco and LOADS into what motivates Ron. As I've said numerous times, this is certainly not the end. Anything that you don't understand is probably something that I've covered/will cover in future chapters. There will be a lot of sifting over these events and the events leading up to this chapter later. Everything is uncovered gradually. After chapters 15-17 are done, that is where the plot/story REALLY starts. What has happened till this point has been like a very long prologue and the real action begins in chapter 18.

At this time, I'd like to thank all of the reviewers who have faithfully followed this story, commented, and trusted me with their favourite characters. I've even had a few famous fic authours like Anise and Sarea Okelani review this little thing and I think I was completely speechless when a Portkey.org reviewer said that I'm their new favourite authour in place of Anne Rice. Wow. I do appreciate every review, but most especially, those reviewers who have picked apart my story and given constructive criticism. It helps my writing more than anything else and ensures that YOU, the reader, have a quality story.

Cheers,
Sing

Ginny heard a sound out in the hall and she woke with a start. Without glancing down, she could feel that Draco still had his head on her stomach; his soft breathing was warm and moist through her nightdress.

She hadn't seen him sleep very often since he'd arrived at the Burrow. Sometimes she wondered whether he even needed to as he was always up in the middle of the night, bumping around downstairs or in his room. It would be a shame to wake him now, but she had no choice. Someone was coming down the hall.

"Draco," she whispered, nudging his back with her hand. He ignored her, wrapping his arms more tightly around her hips and mumbling something against her belly.

"Draco," she tried again, shaking him harder. This time he woke, his eyes heavy-lidded, and he sat up partially to blink at her.

"What is it?" Draco asked thickly, rubbing his face.

"There's someone coming, you have to hide," Ginny said urgently, casting a quick glance at her door.

"Mmmn," he mumbled, quietly slipping off of the bed and looking around for a moment before stumbling into the large wardrobe against her wall.

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief when he closed the door. She sat up and let her feet swing over the side of the bed. Then she walked over to grab some clothes from her trunk and was about to shimmy out of her nightdress when she heard a bang down the hall, followed by screaming.

Draco burst out of the wardrobe then, suddenly wide-awake. He hunted around for the source of his anxiety, but stumbled against the window ledge in his haste, smacking his arm soundly in the process. While he was rubbing his elbow, he glanced outside, his eyes growing very wide.

"Ginny," he hissed. "Come here and look."

She said something rude and ignored him, walking toward the door to investigate what was going on out in the corridor. But he stopped her by striding across the room and clamping a hand over her mouth, dragging her to the window.

"Look," Draco whispered softly in her ear, the arm wrapped around her waist trembling slightly. "Do you see them?"

Ginny squinted her eyes and finally saw what he was talking about. If Draco's hand hadn't been over her mouth, she would have screamed. As it was, a low moan escaped and she fell back, letting him support her sagging body.

"Is there a way out of this room without going into the hall or out the window?"

She shook her head, still dazed. Death Eaters were outside of her house this very minute! Ginny felt Draco drag her backwards toward the wardrobe and he opened the door before pulling her inside with him and locking it up tight.

The space was confined and full of soft blankets and boxes. Draco released her and sat down on a trunk just as they heard the door to her bedroom open with a bang. There was a hollow sound of hard soled shoes against wood flooring, walking around and apparently investigating her room.

Ginny stepped back softly and sat on Draco's lap, burying her face in his chest. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she waited for the Death Eater to find them. She could hear thuds and heavy footfalls from upstairs, followed by crying and screams of pain.

"Draco," she whispered shakily. The hair on his chest under her cheek was warm and real. Ginny ran her hand over the crisp whorls and she could hear his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage. He was always so warm.

"Shh." He put a trembling finger to her lips and pulled her closer to his body. If it was to comfort her or him she didn't know, but at that moment the wardrobe door rattled and she heard a deep laugh, which made her forget that she even cared.

Draco's body tensed and he slid Ginny off his lap to stand up directly in front of the door, waiting for it to be opened.

Muttering could be heard from outside and she recognised that someone was doing an unlocking spell. Draco picked up the first object his hands landed on in the darkness and gripped it tight.

The door was flung open then and Ginny didn't get a chance to see who it was before Draco attacked.

He sprang from the wardrobe and knocked the intruder over, bashing the man's head with an old Muggle clock. The black-cloaked figure laid face down, blood trickling from under the hood. Draco stood over him, breathing hard with the clock still fused to his hand.

"Draco," Ginny stuttered, standing up on wobbly legs to walk over to him.

"There's probably more of them, we'll never get out of here alive."

"And you're so right, my dear," a voice laughed from the bedroom door. Draco and Ginny whirled around to see another hooded figure standing there.

"Avery," Draco ground out, his lip curled in disgust. "Just another of Father's little toys come to play with the big boys, I see."

"You shouldn't speak that way to your elders, boy. And your father will be very interested to find you here of all places."

Draco dropped the clock he was holding and frowned. "If you aren't here for me, then why— "

"Do you really think that you're the sole reason for anything we do? Truly, I'd have thought that you would know better than that."

Ginny was silent as she crept up to Draco and put a hand on his arm. "Draco, why are they here?"

Avery snorted from the doorway. "This is priceless: Lucius Malfoy's son, rutting a Weasley."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I take my pleasure where I find it; it's no concern of yours. Besides," he smiled grimly. "Father has no right to say anything to me about sleeping with a Weasley."

Avery slipped his hood down, his head tilted to the side in cool curiosity. "How do you know about that?"

"Percy wasn't very clever. And I'm sure that Father will be very put out once he learns that his little playmate didn't burn each of the letters he sent."

The Death Eater blanched visibly. "The little bastard."

Draco shrugged. "Something like that."

"Where are these letters now?" Avery demanded.

"I don't know. I turned them over to Mr Weasley."

"So you're a traitor as well, then? How many more of our secrets did you spill?"

There was a twinkle in Draco's eye then and it frightened Ginny but only served to enrage the Death Eater. "You'll never know."

Avery swore vividly before stomping across the room to kick his fellow Death Eater, who still lay immobile on the floor, and grab Draco by the upper arm. He turned then to regard Ginny.

"You'll come along nicely, little girl, or I'll rip him open with my wand right now."

Ginny forced herself to laugh. She didn't love Draco, and most times didn't even like him, but that didn't mean she wanted to see him dead. "Do what you want to him; I don't even like the bastard."

Avery started at this and Draco laughed out loud. "Aw, what's the matter? Did you honestly think that she‘d listen to you just because you threatened my life? Ginny wouldn‘t piss on me if I were on fire."

Tom had taught her well, she could play this game to the end. "Oh Dray-co, you hurt my feelings! I'd at least let my brothers piss on you."

"As if they—"

"Enough, both of you! I don't care if either of you die right now, but My Lord might. So be quiet before I lose my temper and My Lord loses his."

Ginny blanched and shrank back against Draco, reaching behind her to grab his hand, gripping it tight. He didn't squeeze back, but he didn't snatch it away either.

Avery prodded Draco in the back with his wand. "Downstairs, both of you."

Draco moved his legs and stiffly started walking out of the room, Ginny still clinging to his arm. She could feel him struggle to contain the fear he was surely feeling. Every few seconds, the arm in her grip would tremor, but just barely. It was enough to know that even Draco Malfoy could be frightened of these men.

As they were shoved down the last few steps and through other rooms into the kitchen, Ginny wondered what would happen next. Would they all be killed or was there an even more sinister purpose for them in mind? Her eyes roamed around the room and she wanted to sag against Draco in relief; at least everyone was safe—for now.

Charlie and Fred were supporting her parents near the stove while George lay at their feet, an unnatural shade of pale but breathing. They looked up as Avery brought Ginny and Draco in. Ron stood outside of the Weasley huddle and slightly to the left, directing a scowl at Draco that made Ginny shiver.

The other Death Eaters, who were surrounding the Weasley family in a ring, moved aside as Lucius stepped forward. Ginny could feel Draco tense up at his father's approach and stand straight.

The older blonde stopped directly in front of the two and motioned for Avery to step back. Ginny started shaking and buried her face in Draco's upper arm, not wanting to look Death in the eye. She knew it was cowardly, but seeing this man face to face brought all her repressed memories of Tom Riddle and the Chamber of Secrets tearing to the surface, leaving nothing in her place but a little girl who was desperately afraid. Lucius Malfoy had slipped the book in her cauldron. It was through his actions that Tom had used her, made her do horrible things to her fellow students. Because of his sycophantic, wicked deeds that she'd been ostracised and stared at for almost two years after she'd opened the Chamber. Lucius Malfoy had broken her as surely as Tom Riddle ever did. And he was standing in front of her right now.

"So you've been here all this time, have you?" Lucius whispered smoothly, addressing his son. "And here I thought that you may have gnawed off your arm like an animal and bled to death in the snow. It pains me to see that my offspring has sunk so low as to hide among Muggle-lovers."

"I haven't sunk as low as you yet, Father," Draco replied calmly. From her place, Ginny could hear his heart pounding a mile a minute against the hollow of his chest. Then the mighty crack as Draco's head was forced to the side from his father's slap.

"I wonder if Our Lord will still have any use for you. After this, he might deem you tainted goods."

"Rather tainted goods then his bloody slave. You make me sick with your bowing and scraping. You're like a dog."

Draco said this with so much disgust that it made Ginny gasp. He would be killed now, surely. And she was right here beside him, which meant she would be dead, too. But before Lucius could reply, there was a commotion near the door and a hushed, almost reverent silence filled the room.

Ginny looked up and clearly wished that she hadn't. For there, in her very own kitchen, stood Lord Voldemort.

*~*~*~*~*

Ron clenched his fists when he saw one of the Death Eaters drag his sister down the stairs, clinging like a vine to Draco Malfoy. It made his blood boil, especially considering the fact that she was in her nightdress and Malfoy didn't even have a shirt on. Did she know how ridiculous she looked gripping him like that? How much danger her life was in just by standing next to him? Ron wasn't stupid. He'd seen glances pass between the two, and all of the playful bickering during happier times. Not to mention that it was impossible to ignore the huge bruise on the side of Draco's neck. Ginny was going to die because she'd stupidly chosen Malfoy of all people to seek comfort from. At least if she was with her family, she'd have a fighting chance.

Then a chill went over the room and Ron turned to see a slight figure dressed in black robes appear in the doorway. He seemed to glide as if he was walking on air instead of the ground, his slitted red eyes sweeping over the room and its occupants, resting occasionally on one person before moving on to the next. Finally, he stopped in front of Draco, and Ron shivered, desperately afraid for his sister.

"So," Voldemort hissed. "The boy is here. This is good." He looked down at Ginny, almost frowning as if trying to remember something important before his face stilled. "Ah, Ginny . . ." he sighed in a way that Ron didn't like at all.

Lord Voldemort lifted a long-nailed finger to scrape down her arm in what could only be described as a caress. It was almost as if he were trying to soothe her, but coming from Voldemort, it seemed completely unnatural. Ginny's eyes widened with fear, the skin of her face paling chalk white.

"Surely you remember— an old friend?" Voldemort asked. His voice had a very high register, which broke and cracked on words as if he were unused to speaking.

Ginny did nothing, her lips pressed tightly together as if holding back a scream. Ron noted with some satisfaction that Draco seemed just as frightened of the Dark Lord as the rest of them were.

Ron was able to draw up enough courage to divert Voldemort's attention, though where the strength came from, he didn't know. Perhaps it was the sheer terror etched into Ginny‘s face that sent him over the edge of rational, self-preserving thought.

"Leave my sister alone!" he shouted, shocking even the Death Eaters.

Voldemort turned to pin the young man with his gaze and Ron instantly regretted saying anything as the dark wizard floated closer to where he stood.

"You are Harry Potter's friend, are you not?"

Ron had to laugh at that. Someone always wanted Harry. Perfect Harry who could do no wrong. Harry who had all the things Ron had ever wanted for himself. Including Hermione.

"No, I'm not," Ron said in complete honesty. "Harry's a stupid prat and I hope he rots."

Mrs Weasley gasped and gripped her husband's arm. From the look on her face, it seemed that she was not anticipating Ron's survival through the end of his conversation with the Dark Lord.

Voldemort seemed surprised by his answer though, and came closer, putting a hand on Ron's chest. He shivered at the touch and gagged from the smell of rotting wood and earth that seemed to cling to the evil wizard like a haze. The red eyes narrowed, taking in his face.

"So, you are no longer his friend. Perhaps you're his enemy then?"

Ron tried to be casual in the way he shrugged his shoulders, but the action came out more as a spasmodic twitch. "I suppose so."

Voldemort's smile was a horrible thing to see. The skin actually cracked in places as his lips twisted up in a skeletal grin. "Have you ever heard the expression ‘my enemy's enemy is my friend'?"

Ron glared. "You're not my friend."

"Oh, but I could be," he bated. "I could be a very good friend. You want to be in the spotlight? You want to hear people chanting your name just like Potter? Power? Wealth? I can make that happen."

"Ron, no!" Ginny shouted, taking a step forward before Draco clamped a hand over her mouth and pulled her back against his chest.

"And what do you want me to do, then? S'not like you'd give me all that for free." Ron could see his mother's face from the corner of his eye. She was crying softly while his father gazed at him sternly, shaking his head. Fred was uncharacteristically sombre, and Charlie glowered, his short, stocky frame tensed to spring. The Death Eaters, about ten of them together, had come from all parts of the house to form a circle around them, each with wand drawn and held stiffly by their sides.

"It's simple. Be a friend to both Potter and myself. The only difference being that you tell me everywhere he goes, starting with where he is now."

"I don't know where he is right now," Ron answered truthfully. The deal he was offered sounded so tempting. His family could finally have everything they needed. He would have any broom or robe he ever wanted. Girls would be pouring out of the woodworks, desperate for his company, Hermione included. No more hand-me-down wands or clothes.

But there were several things holding Ron back. First was the fact that Voldemort was anything but reliable; he could turn on someone in a heartbeat. Then Ron glanced at his mother and father, the former crying profusely and the latter glaring at him as if he'd sprouted an extra head. And then there was the memory of a small, shy, black-haired boy who had made friends with him on a train several years before. He hadn't laughed at Ron's threadbare clothes, or even his stupid ginger-fluff hair; Harry had accepted him without reservation. No matter what had happened between them since that day, there would always be that and Ron couldn't ignore something so important.

"And," Ron continued after a moment. "You can go to hell. I'm not helping you kill Harry."

He braced himself then, waiting for the killing curse to be spoken but it never was. Over near his parents, Ron saw Fred pull his hand out of his pocket with a flash of silver. He couldn't see what was there, but he knew it was sure to be something that would speed up their deaths considerably.

"Hey baldy! Get away from my brother!" Fred shouted, slamming an entire handful of various metal baubles at the ground near their feet. There was a vast explosive sound and the air was filled with several colours of smoke, making it difficult to breathe and impossible to see anything. Ron coughed, hearing the Death Eaters mill around distractedly while Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy shouted orders. Squinting, he could barely make out Voldemort's shadowy form through the clouds.

He knew it was stupid, and very dangerous, but Ron didn't allow his misgivings to stop him. Reaching into the drawer behind him, he pulled out a large kitchen knife and plunged it down into the cloaked figure before him.

Ron felt a pounding in his head as he sliced through Voldemort again and again. With every high-pitched scream of pain he elicited from the dark wizard, Ron saw Harry rejecting him, Hermione rejecting him, the two sitting together at dinner with knowing grins on their faces. The blushes and glances that spoke mutely of their secret romance.

Ron roared loudly as he continued to hack and slash past the point where it was needed. He didn't notice the Death Eaters gaping at him in fear and wonderment, or his own family cringing away from him. Ron saw Ginny in his mind. He saw her face as Voldemort stroked her arm, almost promising to do more than simply touch her—

He couldn't have stopped if he wanted, too. Ron was like a man possessed and the anger burned bright. He bellowed like an animal while he continued to strike the still body beneath him. By the time the smoke cleared, Voldemort was on the ground.

Ron stood over him, the knife in his hand dripping with dark red blood and he had difficulty catching his breath. Everything around him was suddenly quiet. No one moved or spoke for almost a full minute. Voldemort was clearly dead; his skeletal body void of breath and covered in blood. The red eyes had closed forever.

Lucius Malfoy let out a soft cry and strode forward, kneeling beside his fallen lord.

Draco still stood with Ginny across the room, smirking. "Well, Father; loyal dog that you are, you'll have no trouble finding another master. I can even write you a recommendation."

The Death Eaters broke at these words and Lucius stood back up, attention divided between his fallen master, his master's killer, and his son. Finally he settled on Ron and strode forward, wand at the ready.

"You've sealed your death, boy!" he shouted.

"No," another voice said calmly. Another Death Eater stepped from the circle and threw back his hood, revealing the enraged face of Percy Weasley. "You won't touch my brother, Lucius."

Mrs Weasley screamed then, sobbing into her husband's shoulder. Mr Weasley held her tightly to him. Fred and Charlie seemed confused more than anything else. Ron's mouth gaped open as he saw his brother: his stuffy, intellectual, and always gentle brother, wearing the black robes of a Death Eater.

Lucius turned away from Ron with a sneer to address Percy. "Who are you to stop me?"

Percy flinched and walked closer, his legs working under him stiffly. "You said that my family would be safe forever if I joined with your cause. You said that we were only here to get Harry. But Our Lord is dead now, there's no need to do this."

"And I also said that I loved you," Lucius said with an exasperated roll of his eyes. "How gullible are you, Weasley?" He looked down his nose as Percy's face collapsed in on itself, his horn-rimmed glasses shining as brightly as the tears running down his cheeks.

"I was a fool," he whispered hoarsely, shaking his head from side to side very slowly. "I was a fool to ever believe your lies."

Lucius lifted an eyebrow. "If it makes you feel better, I'm very convincing." He smiled coldly. "Not that I care either way. Good-bye, Weasley."

He raised his wand then and chanted the killing curse. Ginny screamed out and tried to run toward her brother, but Draco's arm was wrapped firmly about her waist. Ron closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the green light shoot out the end of Lucius' wand and strike his brother in the chest, as he knew it would. Ron could hear his mother's sobs, his father shouting, and the sickening crack of bone against limestone. When he opened his eyes again, Percy was on the floor.

The glasses that had made him appear so studious and attentive, so intelligent, lay crushed to the side. His face was serene and relaxed. There was no mark on Percy's body that stated clearly he was dead. But it could be surmised from the silence of his lungs and the twisted pallor creeping over his flesh.

"Percy!" Ginny screamed, stretching out a hand to touch his fallen body even though it was across the room. "Don't go, Percy!" she sobbed brokenly, covering her face with her hands. "Don't lea-ve me," her voice cracked as her shoulders shuddered with raw heaves and moans.

Lucius pocketed his wand with a dramatic flourish. "One Weasley down, several more to go."

Ron gritted his teeth. The arrogant bastard had his back turned and— and he was still holding the knife!

Before Lucius could move further, Ron leapt forward with an enraged yell and planted his blade deeply into the man's back. The knife was dull and nicked from hitting several of Voldemort's bones, but it still worked. It glided easily in and out as Ron pushed it to the hilt again and again. Once for Percy, once for his sister, and once just for being born. The bastard deserved to die a thousand deaths for hurting his family and the knife rose and fell with an easy rhythm. After killing a Dark Lord, a Death Eater seemed easy in comparison. Voldemort had been sub-human, and registered somewhere in the realm of a dangerous animal that needed to be put down. But the part of Ron's mind that said killing another human being is wrong winked out and he saw everything through a red-tinged haze of blood lust.

*~*~*~*~*

As if Ron's actions had finally freed them, his family broke out of their stupor and fought back. Molly, her face red and streaming tears, picked up her skillet and bashed in the skull of the nearest Death Eater with a wild, chilling cry. Fred and Charlie wrestled two more to the ground, snatching away their wands. Mr Weasley hit another square in the face and took a wand as well, crying ‘Expelliarmus!' at the one hovering near his daughter and Draco.

Ginny broke away from Draco's firm grip and grabbed the biscuit box from the table, throwing it at a Death Eater who was in the middle of cursing Ron. It hit the man full in the face and shattered ceramic and shortbreads, blood dribbling from his nose.

There were only two black robed figures left who had not been injured, and they pointed their wands at Ron, shouting the killing curse in unison. Fred and Charlie took aim and fired two different hexes, sending one to his knees and the other flying across the room.

Draco coolly picked up a wand off the ground, sticking it in the chest of one man who was trying to rise. It didn't take much brainpower to figure out who was winning now, and Draco wanted to insure that he was on the proper side.

"Call off your hounds, Avery. You've lost the war."

The man stiffened and glared up at Draco. "Lucius should have killed you first."

"But he didn't," Draco stated evenly, glancing around at the other Death Eaters being rounded up. "Now you're as good as dead because of his mistakes."

Avery sneered at him. "I'm not afraid of death."

Draco let one brow rise. "Really? Do you mind if I test that theory?"

Charlie came over and kicked Avery sharply in the temple and took the wand away from Draco. "Don't do something you'll regret."

Draco scoffed. "I doubt I'd regret killing this vermin."

"You would if you got sent to Azkaban for it," Charlie said darkly, glancing at his brother Ron over his shoulder. "Don't go berserk on us now, china. We‘ve already got him to worry about."

"He won't go to Azkaban. He killed the Dark Lord. Hell, if anything they'll be throwing flowers at him in some stupid parade and shouting his name from the rooftops."

"I didn't mean that. He's— well, scary would be the word for it. I couldn't have done what he just did."

Draco's reply was interrupted by a loud moan from Mrs Weasley.

"Percy!" she cried. "Oh, my baby."

She knelt down on the floor beside Percy‘s lifeless body, oblivious to her husband and son working around her to restrain the Death Eaters. Cradling his head against her breast, she wept, rocking to and fro. "My baby," she murmured softly into his hair, running a hand down his arm and back up to his shoulder.

Draco felt it rude to disturb her grief and walked over to where his father's body lay. Lucius was still and covered in blood, face down in puddles of it even. The stones under him would never be completely free of the stains; there would always be a reminder that it was this spot where Lucius Malfoy died. This house, with its mended rugs and chipped crockery.

Glancing up, he could see that Ron was still out of it. The boy hadn't moved a muscle in several minutes and was in danger of remaining that way permanently if someone didn't intervene. Well, today wasn't Draco's day to play hero.

Tomorrow didn't look good either.

Turning around, Draco grabbed the bright chintz cloth off the kitchen table and covered his father's body with it. The man deserved at least a modicum of dignity, even if he was a first-rate bastard.

He wouldn't cry, the arse didn't deserve tears. But someone had forgotten to tell his body that because there they were, two small rivulets of water streaming down his cheeks. It was the second? Third time maybe that he had ever cried.

Draco looked up when a shadow fell over his father's corpse. It was Fred. The boy shook his head sadly and patted Draco on the shoulder.

"He was an arse, but still Da, y'know? Don't feel bad for letting it out, we all do sometimes."

Then he was gone, walking back over to where his twin was only just coming around from a massive blow to the head. George had missed a lot, not that he'd be sorry about that, though.

Mr Weasley was trying to make Ron let go of the knife still stuck to his palm. He glanced up to offer Draco a weak smile and a shake of his head as if to apologise for his son's actions. It hadn't been strictly necessary to kill Lucius Malfoy. But what was done was done and nothing would change that.

Draco let his eyes wander over a few feet to take in Voldemort's twisted body. It was strange how no one else seemed to notice it lying there. The whole affair felt somehow— anticlimactic, too easy. Just last night he'd had a first-class shag, followed by a good night's rest on a pleasantly soft body, then this morning he woke up and witnessed the death of the Dark Lord.

He walked over to the table, picking up one of the chairs that had been knocked over, and sat down. Ginny was holding onto her mum now and the rest of them crowded around the body of their fallen brother. The betrayer.

If they could forgive Percy, even in death, shouldn‘t he be able to forgive his father?

Please review, it makes my life worth living. Well, at least it makes me want to write more. Remember the months and months I've spent on this and the months that will probably follow what with formatting, editing, re-editing, and more writing. (Do you feel guilty yet? I know I do.)

Cheers, Sing