AN: Three years later, here I am with a revised edition of this story. It's the one I can't get out of my head which, to me, means I need to finish it. With the help of my big sister Kassy, hopefully we can get a handle on this before it drives us both crazy. Enjoy...again!
Chapter One
The moon hung low over the tree line; the leaves glistened in the early morning air. A scream tore through the valley, slicing through the pacific scene. She was running, crying, and gasping for breath, her thin cotton nightgown was soaked with sweat and mist. She had to get away. Through the woods-once she was through the woods she would be safe; if she could get through the woods-get to the people-someone would help her.
Her bare feet flew over the grass and into the forest. She ducked under low limbs and pushed away branches that grabbed at her, tearing her clothes and skin.
They were coming. They were right behind her and if she stopped, they would kill her.
Her blonde hair whipping around her head and sticking to her face, she leapt nimbly over a large puddle, ignoring the rock which sliced open her foot.
In the dark, the trees were endless; she had been running blindly, her hands outstretched before her. She might be lost, she realized, might be turned around and headed directly for the very person from which she was running. If they were even a person at all.
An upraised root caught her foot and brought her crashing to the ground, twisting her ankle with a sickening crunch. She tried to stand, tried to block out the footsteps which were coming closer and closer through the thicket. Her ankle gave way and again she fell with a moan of frustration and hopelessness. Tears streaming down her dirty face, she crawled to the nearest patch of bushes and tried to hide herself within them. Be silent, her mind commanded her ragged breathing and her pounding heart, they'll hear you. Silent and invisible, she told herself, silent and invisible.
And then it was quiet.
Too quiet.
Had they gone through still searching for her? Had she slipped past their notice? Was she safe?
No sooner had these thoughts entered her mind than the bushes in which she was hidden burst apart from behind her and she felt herself being dragged by the hair through the forest. She kicked her feet bloody trying to get free, broke off her fingernails clawing at the ground. The attacker's iron grip on her scalp would not be broken. Her screams, ringing through the pines, went unheard.
With a quick flash of glinting silver the screaming turned to unintelligible gurgling which soon died down and eventually, the young girl fell silent while her slayer worked around her, muttering things in hushed whispers which only the trees could hear.
Fifteen miles away, in a townhouse flat on Origin Alley, Ron Weasley awoke in a cold sweat. He ran to the bathroom and threw up.
***
"You okay, Ron?" Harry asked at breakfast later that morning.
"Hmm?" Ron looked up drowsily from his untouched eggy toast and gave a distracted nod. "Fine."
"You look like hell. Everything all right?"
"Bad dreams," the blonde girl's lifeless brown eyes, staring up at him from a blood spattered face entered his mind again. He shook his head, "Nothing to worry about."
The door to the flat opened and Hermione entered, carrying the morning paper. "Morning, boys," she greeted cheerfully.
"Morning," they returned in unison as she dropped the paper onto the table and set to making herself a cup of tea.
"Where've you been?" Ron asked, noticing her dirty fingernails and clothes.
"Digging in the garden," she shrugged, "I was up early, thought I'd de-gnome."
"Couldn't sleep either?" Harry asked, looking from one roommate to the other.
"Trouble sleeping, Ron?" Hermione stopped in her tea-making and looked at her redheaded best friend.
"Just bad dreams, he mumbled again, grabbing the paper and burying his head in the sports section.
"Well," her tea steeping, Hermione sat down between them, "What did you dream?"
"It was nothing," he muttered, eyes trained deliberately on an article about the Chudley Cannons.
Hermione snatched the paper away and smiled, "C'mon, you'll feel better if you tell us."
"Doubtful."
"Was it about a girl?" Harry joked, shoveling some more scrambled eggs into his mouth. Ron nodded somberly, not looking up. Harry rolled his eyes, "Ron, we've been over this," he continued, "The Weird Sisters turning you down for a date does not constitute a nightmare."
Hermione giggled for a moment before sobering at Ron's expression. "We're sorry, Ron. Tell us what happened."
Ron closed his eyes, remembering her ragged breathing and frantic eyes as she tore through the forest, "She was scared," he said, looking at his fingernails, "terrified, really. Running for her life."
"From what?" Harry asked with any trace of humor gone from his voice.
"Dunno, couldn't see. It got her though-whatever she was running from."
Hermione's brow furrowed, "Did she-"
"Slit her throat," he nodded, "Used some kind of strange knife I'd never seen before…"
"What did it look like?" Harry leaned forward in interest.
"Just had some weird sort of carvings on it…two blades," he ran his hands over his face, "It wasn't the knife, though, it was the hands…"
"The girl's hands?" Hermione prompted.
"No…the killer's hands…there was something familiar about them."
"Familiar how?"
He shrugged, "I don't know…it just felt like I'd seen them before."
"Strange," Harry murmured, obviously unsettled by this.
"I wouldn't worry about it," Hermione said breezily, patting Ron on the back, "They're just dreams."
Harry looked at her for a moment, "You really think so?"
"Yes," she nodded, "I do." She covered his hand with hers and gave it a quick squeeze, "He's gone, Harry. We made sure of it."
Harry offered a small smile, "You're right."
"Ron's probably just suffering from repressed memories or anxiety about Auror training starting up soon."
Ron nodded, "We saved the bloody world, you'd think they'd just certify us and be done with it already," he grumbled good naturedly.
Hermione smiled at her boys, "See? Nothing to worry about. I've got to go down to Diagon Alley for awhile, anyone want to tag along?"
And so the decision was made that Ron's dreams were only dreams and that that particular Saturday was to be better spent wandering around Diagon Alley, dragging Hermione from the bookstores and Ron and Harry out of the Quidditch supplier, having a laugh in Weasley Wizard Wheezes and visiting Ginny at the Leaky Cauldron for a bite of dinner much, much later in the day.
***
Ginny was fighting back a mighty yawn as she cleaned up the dining room of the Leaky Cauldron. Midnight couldn't come soon enough-only another ten minutes. She bewitched the rest of the dishes to wash themselves and returned to the front desk.
"All right then, Ginny?" Tom asked, making his way slowly down the creaking stairs.
She smiled and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, "All right."
"I'll be off then, see you in the morning," he shrugged into his threadbare jacket and gave a little wave as he Disapparated home.
Overall, Ginny was enjoying her new job as assistant manager of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom had given her a job once the war ended, hoping that with her help they could jumpstart the Cauldron and get it back on its feet. Thus far, it seemed to be working. The dining room was once again full at meal times, the bar was busy for most of the night, and people had warmed once again to the idea of staying in town for a night or longer.
She yawned again as the clock began to chime. Closing time. Excellent. Ginny closed the bank book and registration records and locked them in the desk and began to move about the building, extinguishing any lights that Collie-Richard Collins, the night clerk-wouldn't need.
As she was shoving in chairs and straightening knick-knacks around the dining room, the front door bell jingled and a gust of early autumn air blew through. "Evening, Collie," she greeted fondly without turning around. When she received no answer, Ginny turned and found that while the door was wide open, there was indeed no one there. "Hello?" she called softly, glancing around nervously. The door was banging against the back wall, the bell jingling each time as the knot in Ginny's stomach twisted harder and harder with each bang. "Collie?"
If Collie was there, he wasn't answering. Ginny slowly made her way to the doorway. With a loud gulp and a pounding heart, she took a step outside for a look around. As she did, she saw nothing out of the ordinary; a man asleep next to a rubbish bin, an empty bottle in his hand, the pubs beginning to close up for the night, a pair of lovers strolling down the cobblestone, hand in hand, giggling, their head bent together. She was about to go back inside when a hand went around her waist while another went around her mouth, muffling the startled scream she let out. She was being dragged around the corner to the alley.
"Shut up!" a voice hissed in her ear. That hiss. Ginny knew that hiss. But it couldn't be…
She found herself shoved up against the brick wall and staring into a face she had expected never to see again. Again, she screamed against his hand, eyes desperately searching for someone who would help her. "Shut up!" he hissed again. With his hand still firmly holding her head to the wall, he used the other to reach into his pocket and remove his wand, which he pointed at her face. "You're going to do as I say, do you understand?" She nodded frantically. "You're going to help me, all right?" She eyed him for a moment until he pointed his wand between her eyes, "Let me try this again. You're going to help me or I'm going to kill you, do you agree?" Ginny nodded, her old feelings of loathing returning swiftly. "You're going to let me stay here-you're going to hide me. Is that clear?" Her nod was slow, her eyes narrowed. "There's a girl." Malfoy lowered his wand and gave himself a nod, appearing slightly relieved. "Now, if I let go of you, do you promise not to scream?"
Ginny nodded slowly, breathing heavily through her nose. He slid his hand away from her mouth and allowed her a few gulps of oxygen. "But you're-" she gasped, still not believing her eyes.
"Obviously, I'm not."
"But you are! I was there-I saw it!"
"I know what you saw and you didn't see anything."
"What do you want?" she asked searching her pockets for her wand.
"You left it on the desk, inside," he informed her carelessly. "You'll be dead before you even reach the door," he added, seeing the look on her face. "I wouldn't risk it." His own wand remained deliberately out of his pocket and pointed at her. "As for your question, I thought I'd just made myself abundantly clear. I need a room. Immediately. And no one can know about it."
"Why should I help you?" She spat, leaning against the wall, rubbing her side where he'd grabbed her.
"Because if you don't, I'll kill your entire family. Is that what you want?" She said nothing; he offered a joyless smile, "Brilliant." He motioned for the open door. "Shall we?"
Inside, Malfoy waited while Ginny's shaking hands found the key to the top floor bedroom. "Here," she dropped it on the counter, "Room 43."
"If anyone finds me, Weasley," he snatched the keys, "I'm holding you personally responsible."
"Why would anyone be looking for you, Malfoy?" she snapped, her fear giving way to repugnance. "You've been dead for six months now."
"This never happened," he informed her, Disapparating so quickly she almost believed him.
The door opened again, causing Ginny to nearly jump out of her seat. "All right, Gin?" Collie asked, looking concerned.
A wave of relief swept through her as Collie slid out of his coat and came over to the desk. She could tell Collie what happened, he would know what to do. Collie had been through both wars, and worked days at the Ministry. He was simple and a little boring but most definitely good. He'd know what to do. "You look like you've just seen a ghost," he joked, leaning against the counter.
She had. Draco Malfoy had been reported dead in the final battle in Godric's Hollow. Everyone knew that. And yet, there he'd stood not five minutes before, stealing a room from her. He looked like a ghost. Pale and sickly, too thin, dirty, his platinum blonde hair greasy and nearly touching his shoulders, his eyes red and shifty. There was something else in his eyes, something she couldn't place.
"Ginny?" Collie asked, peering into her face. "Are you all right, love?"
She blinked and shook her head, "Just tired, Col," she assured him with a smile. "I'm just in need of a good night's sleep."
Whatever she had seen in him, Ginny realized as she grabbed her wand and Disapparated home without another word, was the reason she had just agreed to keep his secret.
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