Note: This is a story about a new character and her connection to the characters in the Harry Potter series. This story begins at the beginning of the 7th book and will continue until there is a clear ending.

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling and I do not own the characters in this fanfic. I am not making a profit off this works. Please enjoy!

Chapter One: Coming Home

“I don’t see why you have to go.” Lindsay whined from across the room. “You just got here. And I’ll miss you.”

Aly turned to look at her closest friend and smiled. She would miss Lindsay, too, but she couldn’t stay any longer. Everything was exploding back home—she needed to be closer to her father and she wanted to spend her last year of school at Hogwarts.

“I didn’t just get here, Linds.” Aly shook her head with a sad giggle. “My father made me come here two years ago, and I’ve rarely been home since.”

“I don’t see why you want to go. I mean he basically sent you to rot in exile.” Lindsay rolled her eyes as Aly returned to packing her clothes. “I mean, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That’s, like, the best wizarding school there is.”

“I know, I know.” Aly sighed, struggling with the zipper of her luggage. She desperately wanted to use her wand to pack her things—it would have gone much more quickly—but her school monitored each student’s use of magic, which was not allowed outside of the classroom. “But if he hadn’t forced me to the frozen tundra that is Minnesota, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“It’s really bad here, isn’t it?” Lindsay replied, defeated. “I never would have survived this prison if you hadn’t shown up. What am I going to do without you?”

“Not get into trouble?” Aly attempted with a straight face, but the minute she caught Lindsay’s eye, both of them started giggling uncontrollably. After a few moments, Aly was able to calm down enough to reply without laughing. “Seriously, don’t let this place fall apart without me. And tell Shawn I say bye.”

“Why don’t you do it yourself?” Lindsay retorted sourly, though Aly knew her friend was just hiding the disappointment she was feeling about Aly’s departure. Lindsay thought that Aly was abandoning her, but she wasn’t even close to the reason Aly needed to leave immediately.

Her mother had died giving birth to her, so the only parental figure she had had growing up was her over-stressed and controlling father. Meanwhile, he had spent her entire life preparing for his bid for Minister of Magic in the British Wizarding Government, which he finally achieved the previous summer.

Being a politician’s daughter had put more pressure on Aly than she was prepared to handle at such a young age. She was constantly in the spotlight, being scrutinized by the press and her peers at Hogwarts, alike. All she wanted throughout her four years at the school was to be allowed to express herself, but her father insisted that she be the prim and proper daughter he expected. She always had to follow the rules, dress conservatively, listen to a certain type of music, talk in a dignified manner, and act as though she deserved to be worshipped.

But she didn’t deserve to be worshipped. Aly had made some mistakes during her younger years, as she tried to rebel from her father’s watchful eye. She had fallen in with a rough crowd and become mesmerized in magic not befitting a Ministry official’s daughter.

And Rufus Scrimgeour would not accept a daughter with such disrespect for his image. He could not have a daughter that dabbled in the Dark Arts; he would not tolerate a daughter that could possibly destroy his candidacy chances.

So, her father had sent her to the United States of America to study under the watchful eye of Headmistress Talia Brooks. Farnsworth School for Witchcraft and Wizardry located in Ely, Minnesota, had been her worst nightmare. It was a school for underage delinquents, which meant strict rules and observations. No excursions outside of the school were allowed, no using magic without a professor’s presence, strict curfews, and no co-ed dormitories.

The one part she enjoyed about being away was that no one recognized her; no one knew who she was. More importantly, no one cared that she was Scrimgeour’s daughter. She had made a name for herself, by herself.

She missed the endless nights in the Slytherin common room with Draco Malfoy and the rest of her friends, though none of them had bothered to write to her; however, Aly figured Draco had ordered them not to contact her, and they would have listened to his strict commands. She wanted to tell Draco goodbye, but her father would not allow that, and she was sure Draco had been highly offended.

“That would not teach you a lesson, Aly.” Her father had scolded angrily. “You will have to learn to behave yourself, and then your privileges may be restored.”

She had written to Draco, but he never responded. It hurt in the beginning, but she toughened up quickly. She had to be tough in her current setting. If she had been a weepy mess, she would have suffered endless amounts of torture, bullying, and serving the stronger students. Instead, she was the one issuing out the bullying, tortures, and commands. It was Aly who held the power at Farnsworth School for Witchcraft and Wizardry; not one student ranked above her in the school’s hierarchy.

Her time with Draco had served her well; he had taught her how to rise in power and she quickly became the one everyone feared. Well, everyone except Lindsay and Shawn. Her two best friends were the only ones who ever saw a sliver of her true personality, the part that had many weaknesses and flaws. They were the only witch and wizard to ever fully accept her for who she was.

That’s why she classified Lindsay and Shawn as her best friends. They were also the only two people she would miss from her imprisonment.

But she had to leave them. Personal survival was the only thing that was important to her anymore and she knew she would not survived being locked in the prison for much longer. She had endured life with her father, and survived the wrongdoings that had landed her in the detention center. Lindsay and Shawn helped her survive two years at Farnsworth, and now she was finally of age.

But she didn’t want the world to know she would be returning to England. That’s why no one else at the school even suspected she was leaving—she wanted to say goodbye to Shawn, but they were not allowed in each others’ dormitories. And she couldn’t wait around long enough to reach the next mealtime. It was nearing midnight and then she would be free.

“He already knows I’m leaving, but I want him to know I’ll miss him.” Aly shrugged as though it wasn’t all that important. She lifted her luggage off her bed as the clock tower began chiming, indicating midnight had finally arrived.

“Fine.” Lindsay pouted as she got off the bed and walked sluggishly towards Aly, as Aly opened her arms and prepared for an embrace. “I still don’t understand why you have to leave.”

“The Hogwarts Headmaster was killed last month. My dad refuses to tell me about what is going on in England, but I have a feeling it isn’t good. I want to be closer to him.” Aly knew her friend was stalling her departure because she had told Lindsay this story many times before. “He’s the Minister and I don’t think he’s all that well protected.”

“But how are you going to keep him safe if you’re at Hogwarts?” Lindsay eyed her suspiciously. Then her eyes lit up in understanding. “You’re not going back to school, are you?”

“Of course I am. I want to spend my last year at Hogwarts, but at least I will be closer.” Aly shrugged her shoulders. “And they don’t keep you locked in cages there. It’ll be a nice change of scenery.”

“It’s the boy, isn’t it?” Lindsay’s voice became accusatory. “Come on, Aly. He didn’t write to you the entire time you were here. He didn’t even visit you when you went home. Draco Malfoy does not care about you.”

“It’s not about Draco, Lindsay.” Aly replied shortly, though deep in her heart, she knew that part of it was about Draco. She wanted to see him again, to see if he’d appreciate the new Alyson Scrimgeour. “It’s just something I have to do.”

“Whatever you say, Aly.” Lindsay conceded roughly, embracing Aly tightly. “I’ll tell Shawn whatever you want me to. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will.” Aly smiled as the embrace ended. “And you make sure to keep the new ones in line. They’ll never respect you if you don’t show them who’s boss in the first week they’re here.”

“Don’t worry.” Lindsay giggled evilly. “Shawn and I have it covered.”

“Good.” Aly nodded her approval.

“Write me?” Lindsay asked softly as Aly pulled her luggage towards the door of the dorm they had shared for two years.

“Of course.” Aly responded. Just before she left the dormitory, she remembered one final request. “Oh, and Lindsay.”

“Yeah?” Lindsay asked hopefully.

“Can you keep it quiet that I left? I mean, I don’t want the world to know that I’ve gone back to England quite yet.” Aly asked her best friend.

“I’ll do what I can, but the other students are bound to notice that you aren’t here anymore.” Lindsay pointed out the obvious flaw in her plan, but Aly just shrugged her shoulders in reply.

“Just as long as they don’t know where I’ve gone.” Aly added nonchalantly, she was worried one of the other students would leak word that she had left the school. The press would soon know that she had returned, but the longer it took to reach the newspapers, the better for her transition.

“Shawn and I will handle it.” Lindsay smiled. “Goodbye Aly.”

“Bye Linds!” Aly waved to her friend, withholding the tears that were threatening to come to the surface. She could not shed a tear—it would display the weakness that she had suppressed for two whole years. She was finally going home.

Aly quickly and easily, more easily than one would expect in a school for troublemakers, made her way outside and off school grounds where she could Disapparate. She closed her eyes and envisioned her father’s office at the Ministry of Magic—she would be given Apparition rights only because she was Rufus Scrimgeour’s daughter, though she had never been there before. The familiar sensation tugged at her naval as she departed the prison where her father had sentenced her to for two long years.

*~*~*~*

He lay in his bedroom, with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. When had his life taken a downward spiral? When did he become only a little more significant than the muggles they were now seeking to control?

During his many years at Hogwarts, he had enjoyed the privileges of being a pure-blood Slytherin. He had commanded respect and superiority over the others students, even his Slytherin classmates. His father had once been a man to be feared and revered at the Ministry.

But now each of the Malfoys had disappointed the Dark Lord enough so that only Peter Pettigrew was ranked lower than they were among the Death Eaters. His father had been stupid and weak to allow Potter and his friends to escape from the Department of Mysteries. Draco couldn’t imagine how they could have escaped so many Death Eaters, but the fact remained that Lucius Malfoy had failed. Potter had escaped and the Dark Lord did not get the prophecy.

Draco did not believe he failed the Dark Lord. It had been his mentor, Severus Snape, who had betrayed him. Draco would have been able to murder Albus Dumbledore; he had just needed more time. It was not his fault he had failed. Professor Snape was the one who had overstepped his bounds and ended the Headmaster’s life prematurely.

So, he was eager to prove himself to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord often reminded Draco that he had only allowed him into the Death Eaters in order for Draco to complete the task given to him, of which he failed miserably. But Draco was determined to prove to the Dark Lord that he was not a failure, that he deserved the Dark Mark that had been painfully burned onto his forearm.

His eyes scanned his bedroom walls, looking for the one image that had often reassured him that everything was going to be alright. Over the last few weeks, Draco had spent an almost unendurable amount of time locked away in his bedroom and away from the accusatory and sinister stares of his fellow Death Eaters, but one image had proven to be invaluable to him.

She had disappeared over two years ago after they had gotten caught together. He had heard rumors that her father, now the Minister of Magic, had murdered her to keep the secret, but he never once believed this was what happened. Draco had convinced his father to hire a private investigator who uncovered her true location: a school in the United State of America.

Even though she was locked far away, she still could have written to him. But never once did she send him any sort of correspondence stating that she was alright, or that she missed him. So, he showed her the same amount of respect. As much as he missed her, he wasn’t going to be the first to give in. She deserved whatever she got if she refused to even let him know she was alright.

But the picture he had enlarged, which now hung just across his bed, was hard to ignore. Aly Scrimgeour, with her long brown hair, intense green eyes to match her Slytherin robes, and the nose piercing that had driven her father mad with hostility brought the same gut-wrenching pain he always experienced when looking at her picture. She waved slyly in his direction and winked at him with a sneaky smile upon her lips.

How could she have done this to him? Every time he looked at her, pain tore his stomach apart. Yet, he still cared about her and could not help but keep the poster as a terrible reminder of what he had lost. He knew she never would have let him fail in the task given to him by the Dark Lord. She’d know what he could do to get in the Dark Lord’s good graces once again. She’d be able to help him.

But she was gone and didn’t care what happened to him. He closed his eyes and the pain in his stomach subsided as he drifted into an unrestful sleep full of violent nightmares, completely opposite from the dreams he used to have about Aly Scrimgeour.

*~*~*~*

She arrived in the Minister’s office just moments later and was not surprised to see her father sitting at his desk, hunched over some paperwork. It was horribly sad, but that was all he cared about anymore. He never showed his love for her, though she knew he felt it, deep, deep down somewhere. And she felt the same way towards her father. She hated him for the pressure he placed her under and for casting her aside when she was not even fifteen years old. But at the end of the day, Rufus Scrimgeour was her father and she loved him wholly and unconditionally.

The Minister jumped at the sound of her sudden Apparition and quickly reached for his wand, though it would have been quite easy had Aly been trying to kill him. She shook her head in disappointment as relief, then fury, displayed on her father’s face when he realized who had just arrived in his office.

“Alyson Bridget Scrimgeour!” Rufus reprimanded in his usual demeaning manner. He stood from behind his desk and pointed a finger in her direction. “What are you doing here? You know I have forbid you from coming back until I deem it appropriate.”

“I am sorry, Rufus.” Aly knew her father hated it when she called him by name, which was why she always antagonized him instead of calling him dad. He deserved every bit of resistance she could give him. “But, seeing as I am now seventeen, you no longer have any control over what I decide to do.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” Her father lowered his finger, but remained standing and determined to have the last word. “What are you doing back in England? You should have stayed at Farnsworth. Alyson, you don’t know the dangers you are in here.”

“Don’t I?” Aly taunted him, sitting nonchalantly in a chair across from his desk and crossing her legs with a false sincerity. “Well, whose fault is that? You certainly didn’t feel it necessary to tell me what was going on.”

“You know I’ve been busy.” Rufus replied angrily, sitting down in his chair once again. “I thought you were safe at Farnsworth, though I am obviously mistaken. It’s not in your nature to listen to a word I say, even though you know full well I am looking out for your best interests and well-being.”

“Best interests? Well-being?” She shrieked incredulously. “Hidden is more like it. Sent away so as not to disgrace the family name. Forgotten by Rufus Scrimgeour and the whole of England only to rot in the prison my own father sentenced me to.”

“I have seen Farnsworth, myself, and it is not nearly the dreadful prison you describe.” Rufus replied, breathing heavily. “You always were for the melodramatics. But now that you are of age, it is time to enter the real world, Alyson. There are things going on in this country, terrible things, that you could not even imagine. You are to return to Farnsworth immediately.”

Aly smiled sweetly at her father and watched as his face turned scarlet. “What has you more upset father? The fact that I have decided to return to England without awaiting your orders, or the fact that the daughter you are ashamed of could ruin your career as Minister of Magic?”

“You know it’s not like that, Alyson.” Rufus responded, narrowing his eyes at her without showing any emotion. “I would be happy to have you back. Professor Brooks tells me you are making tremendous progress at Farnsworth. But you are in too much danger here, especially with the position I now hold.”

“What are you going off about, Rufus?” Aly asked, disgruntled and rolling her eyes. “If I am in any danger, it is because you put me there. I refuse to stay hidden and be the nice little daughter you want me to be. It is high time you realized that I am not that girl you so much desire in a Scrimgeour.”

“Lower your voice, Alyson.” Rufus hissed, eyeing the back of his door. Aly looked at him and wondered if he was worried no one had come to investigate all the noise. She couldn’t be bothered by such concerns—she was finally able to confront her father like she had always dreamed. He could no longer control her actions. She was free to do whatever she wanted, whenever she pleased. It was a nice release. “You don’t want to attract attention, do you?”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Aly responded even louder, leaning forward in her chair and placing her elbows on her knees. “Give you a reason to have me locked away again. Only this time, I’m an adult witch, so you will have to lock me away in Azkaban. Is that what you really want to do, Rufus?”

“Alyson,” her father’s voice dropped to a whisper and he leaned over his desk, trying to get closer to her. “You-Know-Who is back. He will kill you immediately if he knows you’ve returned. They are coming after me, too. It’s only a matter of time before something happens.”

“Well, good!” Aly stood and glared angrily at her father. He shriveled back in his chair at her outburst. “He can kill me if he wants to. He can kill you for all I care. See what your ambitions got you, Rufus? You exiled your daughter in order to succeed, and now your rise to power is going to get you killed. You deserve whatever you get!”

“Well, it’s not like any one else is up for the task, is it?” Rufus spat at her as she quickly made her way to his door. “I didn’t see anyone else volunteering for the position with You-Know-Who’s rise being so imminent. Not even Potter is willing to stand behind the Ministry.”

“Oh, come off it, Rufus!” Aly turned, red-faced and breathless in anger, to face her father for what she hoped to be the last time. “You need to stop harassing Harry Potter. I know more than you think I do, and it is not okay that you keep pressuring him to be your poster boy. It’s not like the Ministry has always been a friend to him. I mean, look at what the Ministry does to its own when they make mistakes!”

She gestured toward her chest with both arms and then stormed out of the office, willing her father to die a most painful death. He could be too much sometimes and she couldn’t believe she ever wanted to come back to be closer to him. What had she been thinking? How could she ever have thought he’d be happy to see her? She had changed, but maybe just not in the way he expected.


Here is the first chapter of this new story! I have plenty planned for Aly and am excited to develop her character. It would help if you left your thoughts to help me along with the storyline! I like to write what I know the readers enjoy. The next chapter should be up this weekend or early next week. And, most importantly, I'd like to thank my beta, ChannelingGinny who has been just wonderful!

Chapter Two: Taken Prisoner

Aly pulled the door open with all her might, rushed through it, and slammed it behind her. What she saw when she took a moment to look around her father’s outer office was disconcerting and Aly immediately knew something was seriously wrong.

The last time she had seen her father he had not yet secured the position of Minister of Magic, and though she had never seen the inside of the Minister of Magic’s office before, Aly knew there should be at least two Aurors standing guard inside the outer office and an assistant working at the desk near the door. But the room was completely empty and Aly felt goose bumps rise on her skin.

Once again she couldn’t be bothered by such mundane details. All she wanted to do was get away from Rufus Scrimgeour and his inability to accept her. He was insufferable and could only think of himself, though he often attempted to a pathetic show of caring towards her. But Aly knew differently; Rufus had always resented her for killing her mother. Then, when she was sorted into Slytherin, the first on either side of her family, Rufus had barely spoken to her for months.

And now he thought her presence would cause him to be in even more danger. Aly had every reason to despise her father, and, yet, despite herself, she could not hate him. He was her father, after all.

Aly almost regretted coming to see her father, but her visit had confirmed her worst fears: Lord Voldemort had returned. She had suspected as much when she learned Professor Dumbledore had been murdered, but what had confused her most, however, was the fact that Professor Snape, her favorite professor at Hogwarts, was the murderer. The fact that Professor Snape had murdered the supposedly beloved Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry did not bother her as much as the loss she experienced with him leaving Hogwarts as a result. She had counted on Professor Snape teaching her Potions during her final year.

How was she supposed to learn anything from those dreadful instructors who had the nerve to call themselves Professor? Professor McGonagall was the worst of all, always looking at Aly as though there was something wrong with her, like Professor McGonagall was attempting to read Aly’s thoughts.

Aly shook her head as she slowly walked towards the door leading out of the Minister’s reception area. She was just upset—Hogwarts hadn’t been that bad, and it was definitely much better than Farnsworth. Aly knew she had to let go of her anger towards her father, otherwise it was going to cause her a lifetime of bitterness. She didn’t really hate the world as much as others thought. The problem was that no one seemed to be able to understand her.

Poor Aly, Aly thought to herself and smiled. She didn’t want to be pitied; she just wanted to be left alone, to be understood. What she wanted was her father to tell her he loved her, for him to pay attention to her once in awhile. But his life revolved around his work at the Ministry. It had always been painful coming in second.

Rufus never even bothered to question her the night he caught her and Draco; all he knew was that she was guilty and he worked diligently to disguise that fact from the public. That was why he sent her to Farnsworth and that was why he never told another soul that Draco had been involved.

Aly did not hesitate when she reached the door. She opened it and stuck her head out, quickly returning to the office and closing the door. It was early morning, and, yet, the halls were bustling with people scurrying to their offices.

She did not yet feel prepared to face the press and scrutinizing eyes of the wizarding community. Aly skulked to the couch in the corner of the outer office and summoned a blanket and pillow. She hadn’t realized how tired she was and felt resigned to staying inside the office until the Ministry had emptied and she would be able to return to her father’s home.

She laid her head on the pillow and pulled the warm comforter over her head, drowning out the light of the office. Aly fell asleep almost instantly, only waking when she heard the outer office door opening and someone’s feet quietly shuffle into the office.

She was too tired to open her eyes, she didn’t know how long she had slept, so she kept herself hidden under the blanket. No one knew she was back and she wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

“Colloportus.” Aly heard a male voice utter followed by the sound of the office door locking shut. She kept herself hidden, but slowly reached for the wand she had placed in the pocket of her muggle jeans. Her eyes were now open, staring into the darkness under the blanket, but she did not dare to chance a look lest she be seen.

“In there.” Another voice instructed and then Aly heard more movement. Aly didn’t know how many there were, but she had the uneasy sensation that something was about to go wrong, very wrong.

Her father’s office door opened and Aly heard a crashing noise. Books falling to the floor? Aly asked herself. She thought it would be safe to catch a glimpse of the scene before her, and she slowly lowered the blanket from around her head.

There were four people standing in front of her father, each with excited and, yet, torturous expressions. The first was a woman with a toad-like face. She wore a satisfied grin and crossed her arms over her chest in a confident manner. Next to her was a man that Aly recognized as Pius Thicknesse. He had been a close friend of her father’s during his rise in power. He held his wand pointed in her father’s direction and wore a somewhat confused, but threatening expression.

The other two men wore dark robes she recognized only from lessons in her history books. They were definitely Death Eater robes. The first Death Eater was tall, thin, and had severely gray hair. The second looked brutal and had a smile that made her gasp. He looked more frightening than the other three combined.

Aly slowly lowered herself to the floor and crawled closer to the door of her father’s office so she could get a better look. As she was doing this, her father spoke in surprise, “Pius? What is the meaning of this?”

Rufus had stood, demanding the kind of respect the Minister of Magic should be granted unconditionally. The second, scarier Death Eater merely laughed at this question and threw a spell at her father.

Her father fell back into his chair with a startled expression and made an attempt to stand again. “You have just attacked the Minister of Magic. How dare you? DAWLISH? KENSINGTON?” Rufus called out.

Aly knew he was calling for the Aurors that were no longer stationed outside his door. She debated about whether she should leave the office to summon help, but it would take too much time. She had to stay there to help her father.

“Silence!” The first Death Eater demanded as the terrifying one attacked her father with another spell, causing Rufus to fall back onto his chair.

The brutal-looking death eater stepped closer to her father with a sinister grin. “Pardon me, Minister, for intruding. However, we need to locate Harry Potter and it has come to our attention that you have recently visited with him.”

“Your information is mistaken, I believe.” Rufus looked the Death Eater in the eye. Aly shook her head disgustedly. They are going to kill you, dad! Tell them! Save yourself! She tried to convey her message nonverbally, but he could not see her.

“That’s too bad. Crucio!” The second Death Eater sneered and her father fell from his chair and screamed in pain. It was too much for Aly to handle. She couldn’t sit there and watch her father be tortured without doing something.

“Stupefy!” She yelled and aimed her wand at the second Death Eater. The spell soared past his right shoulder and hit the window behind her father’s desk, sending glass flying everywhere.

Aly quickly ducked as four spells shot in her direction and she heard her father yell, “Run Alyson!” Her wand flew from her hand as one of the spells hit her lower leg.

Before she could get up and start running for the door, someone grabbed hold of her ponytail and roughly dragged her back into the office. She heard Rufus’ personal office door slam as she was forced to her knees in front of the gray-haired Death Eater, who still held tightly to her ponytail.

Aly gasped in pain and tears formed in her eyes.

“Who is this?” The second Death Eater demanded, pointing his wand in her father’s direction. Rufus, however, remained silent, though Aly couldn’t deny the terrible fear in his eyes. After a few moments of silence, the Death Eater turned towards the toad-faced woman. “Delores?”

Delores Umbridge. Yes. Aly recognized her now. Delores took a step towards her, looked at her briefly, and then turned her attention to the Death Eater who had addressed her.

“Alyson Scrimgeour.” Delores said with a sinister giggle. “This is Rufus’s daughter, though no one’s seen her for years now. Interesting.”

The two Death Eaters let out terrible guffaws at the news, while the Death Eater holding her grasped even tighter.

“Well, well, well.” The second Death Eater stepped closer to Aly and slowly pulled his wand along her face. “I would call this leverage, wouldn’t you Travers?”

“Of course, Yaxley.” Travers responded coarsely. “It would just be a tragedy if poor Alyson lost her life because the Minister refused to cooperate.”

Yaxley knelt to Aly’s level and spoke just inches from her cheek, and she cringed with her eyes closed at the action. “Wouldn’t it be terrible if your father chose to protect Harry Potter instead of protecting you?”

He stood and strode towards the Minister’s desk, leaning over the edge, and placing his hands on the mounds of paperwork. “Are you going to tell us what we need to know, or are you going to sacrifice your daughter for Harry Potter?”

“I cannot help you.” Rufus said in a monotonous tone, staring ahead instead of looking towards Aly. Her heart immediately dropped, but she didn’t have a chance to register his betrayal.

She suddenly felt pain like she had never experienced, but recognized immediately from her own use of the spell. She screamed out, begging for the pain to stop. It continued for a few more seconds, which seemed like eternity, and then finally ceased. Aly was still held in place by Travers as she breathed heavily and attempted to recover from the pain.

“Please.” Rufus’ tone was unaffectionate, but Aly now noticed the tears streaming down his face. Good, she thought as she wiped her own tears away. “She doesn’t know anything. And I cannot help you. Please, spare my baby.”

“Crucio!” Yaxley responded to her father’s plea by sending another torture spell at her. Once again, she screamed in pain as Travers held her firmly in place. She felt as though thousands of knives were slicing her body, piercing every pore and tearing every muscle. This time, the pain was so tremendous that she could not even beg for it to end. All she could do was hope that they would let her die so she wouldn’t have to suffer any more.

Finally, the pain ceased, but she was not yet allowed enough freedom to rest. Travers continued to hold her hair so tightly she could not adjust her head even in the slightest of movement. The Death Eater held her firmly on her knees.

“Please.” Her father’s voice was desperate now, and for the first time in her entire life, Aly thought she heard concern in his voice. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Do you still wish to protect Harry Potter while your daughter suffers, Minister?” Yaxley looked frustrated, but continued to taunt her father ruthlessly. “Do we need to kill her, Minister? Or will you help us?”

“I cannot help you.” Another first for Aly. This time, her father sounded utterly defeated, and she knew Yaxley must have heard the same inflection. “Please, spare my daughter.”

“Then we cannot help you, Minister.” Yaxley said as he raised his wand, an angry look in his eye. “Avada Kedavra!”

Aly screamed and fought against Travers’s grip on her ponytail as her father flew backward—the life leaving his eyes as soon as the spell hit his chest.

“NOOOO!” Aly screamed, fighting her captor with all the strength she could gather. “Daddy! NOO!”

Without another comment, Yaxley had directed his wand at her. “Avada Ked-” he started, but Travers interrupted him.

“Stop!” Travers held up his free hand, interrupting Yaxley.

“What?” Yaxley asked irritably, and after a thought, his expression appeared amused. “Are you fond of the girl, Travers?”

“No. No.” Travers said with a brief laugh and a shake of his head. He then turned his head to look at Delores. “She’s a pureblood, correct?”

“Yes.” Delores acknowledged quickly.

“So?” Yaxley demanded, jabbing his wand into Aly’s cheek. “We don’t need her.”

“You were there. The Dark Lord’s orders are that we are not to spill pure blood unnecessarily.” Travers replied strongly. “She may be useful. We need to bring her to the Dark Lord.”

“Fine.” Yaxley rolled his eyes as Travers yanked Aly to her feet. “What are we supposed to do with her while we visit the Tonks’?”

“We have to take her with us.” Travers shrugged like the answer was obvious. “Then take her to the Dark Lord.”

“I refuse to babysit.” Yaxley responded with irritation and turned to leave the office. He gestured towards Pius, who had remained quiet throughout the entire meeting, and commanded, “Sit” like he was speaking to a puppy.

Aly watched as Pius walked without any animation and sat in her father’s now vacant chair. She whimpered through her tears. How could they have murdered her father like that? And why hadn’t her father cared to protect her? All they wanted was Potter’s location. She would have given them the information they wanted in order to protect her father. Didn’t he care about her at all?

“Keep her quiet and pick up her wand.” Yaxley demanded as he rolled up the left sleeve of his robes. He quickly touched his wand to a tattoo on his forearm, which Aly recognized immediately: by touching his Dark Mark, he was notifying his fellow Death Eaters that the mission had been completed. Her father was dead and the Ministry was now under Death Eater control.

Travers silently bent to pick up her wand, and then tucked it safely inside his robes. He then pulled her along by the hair, causing her to gasp in pain again as they made their way to the second part of Yaxley’s and Travers’s mission for Lord Voldemort, leaving Aly to wonder of her fate.

*~*~*~*

“Where are they?” Yaxley’s face was contorted in concentration as he sent another spell, one that Aly could not identify, towards Ted Tonks. He yelped in pain and then fell limp, though Aly could see his chest rise and fall with shallow breaths. He was not dead.

“I don’t know!” Andromeda screamed for what had to have been the eighth time. Aly wasn’t sure whether Ted or Andromeda knew where Harry Potter was, but she wished the couple would tell the Death Eaters something.

Aly had been shoved into a corner and told to remain still. She wanted to attempt an escape while the two Death Eaters’ attentions were focused on the Tonks’, but she didn’t know where she was. She didn’t have her wand, either, which made Apparition impossible. Even if she made it outside without alerting Yaxley and Travers, she would have nowhere to go. Really, what were here options?

“Crucio!” Travers tortured Andromeda for several minutes before he released the curse. Aly lowered herself to the floor and hugged her knees, refusing to watch the scene in front of her any longer.

“We saw Potter arrive here. We know you know where he went when he left.” Yaxley inched closer to the woman who lay panting on the floor. He waved his wand in a zigzag pattern and the same design appeared across her exposed cheek, causing blood to flow from the wound and into her mouth. “Where did he go?”

“I don’t know!” Andromeda panted again.

“Crucio!” Yaxley roared in anger, so loudly that Aly felt the rumble of his voice through her skin. She covered her ears as Andromeda’s scream pierced the silence of the house. Ted was beginning to stir beside her, but he did not open his eyes.

After the curse was lifted, Yaxley knelt down to the floor and whispered directly to Andromeda’s tear-soaked face. “There is no need to suffer, Andromeda. We do not wish to harm purebloods. Just tell us where Potter is and we will leave quietly.”

“They…left…by…portkey.” Andromeda panted roughly, obviously struggling to speak even this much. “Don’t…know…where…gone.”

“But you must know where they are keeping the boy.” Travers kicked the unconscious Ted Tonks in the stomach and Andromeda begged them to stop the abuse.

“Please!” She begged softly. “We don’t know.”

“Your daughter, Nymphadora, is a member of the Order of the Phoenix, is she not?” Yaxley’s tone was harsh and uncaring. “The same Order that is protecting the boy. Tell us where he is.”

Andromeda remained silent, which Yaxley used as another excuse to use the torture curse. Yaxley let the curse linger for even longer this time and Aly didn’t think she could handle much more. Yet, Aly did nothing. Her concern over herself ranked much higher than the helpless individuals before her.

But, really, what could Aly do? She could ask the Death Eaters, nicely, to stop questioning the Tonks’. Several times throughout the interrogation, Andromeda had looked at her with inquisitory stares. Aly had seen the look many times before: Andromeda was wondering where she had seen Aly before.

But the screaming continued.

“Stop!” Aly finally screamed out. Her voice was muffled by her arms and legs, in which her face was hidden, but she was sure the Death Eaters heard her. “Please.”

She couldn’t take it any more; Aly had spent the last seventy-five minutes in the home of Ted and Andromeda Tonks listening to pleas for mercy and agonizing screams. She knew she shouldn’t have done it, but it was too terrible to bear.

And she knew they heard her, because Andromeda’s screams silenced immediately. Aly could hear Andromeda’s heavy breathing, but she didn’t dare to lift her head. Soon after, she felt the pressure of someone forcing her head upwards. Yaxley stood in front of her with irate eyes.

Without a word, he extended his arm across his chest and used all of his strength to slap her with the back of his hand. The force of the blow caused her to fall over as she cried out in pain. She scrambled to move closer to the wall and further away from the Death Eater, but she had nowhere to go.

“We told you to be quiet, girl!” Yaxley sneered, his face looking more horrifying than before. “The Dark Lord will understand—I will not tolerate such insubordination and disrespect. Avada Ked-”

Yaxley was once again interrupted, only this time Aly heard two voices standing up for her. She was flabbergasted, but remained silent as the tears flowed down her cheeks and blood trickled slowly from her nose.

“The Dark Lord will not be forgiving, Yaxley.” Travers reasoned and placed his hand on Yaxley’s wand arm.

“Please don’t harm her!” Andromeda begged from the floor, and she quickly attempted to get the attention focused back onto her. “We don’t know where they have gone. Please believe us.”

Yaxley and Travers looked at each other, communicating nonverbally for a few minutes, and finally Travers spoke.

“We should return to the Dark Lord.” He said. “The others will have returned by now, and we need to find out what he wants us to do with the girl.”

Yaxley looked at Andromeda again, and raised his wand after a moment. He cast another spell in her direction, causing Andromeda’s body to convulse uncontrollably. Then, he lowered his wand and stormed back to Aly.

“She’s mine.” Yaxley said, addressing Travers, as he grabbed Aly’s arm and squeezed so hard that the skin of her arm around his hand turned white. She kept her mouth shut as he pulled her outside and Disapparated from the Tonks’ home.

Aly couldn’t help but let her mind wander to the one question that flooded her mind: How am I going to survive tonight?

Thank you once again to my wonderful beta, ChannelingGinny! I just love this chapter. Aly is such a spoiled teenage brat. And yet I still love her! I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted, but I'll try for sooner rather than later!

Chapter Three: The Visitor

“Tonks!” Ginny’s mother cried out as she rushed into the living room from the kitchen when the door opened and Tonks let herself into the Burrow. “Tell me they are alright.”

Tonks merely nodded and then collapsed onto the couch next to Ginny. The Auror looked utterly exhausted and, though Ginny felt the same way, Ginny felt sorry for her. After the Death Eaters left the Burrow, Tonks had received word that the Death Eaters had also visited her parents.

“Are they hurt?” Lupin asked, leaning over and stroking her hand. He had wanted to join Tonks, but she instructed him to stay at the Burrow. She felt this overwhelming need to go to them herself and Ginny could tell Lupin’s feelings had been hurt.

“They’re sleeping now.” Tonks sighed, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes. “It’s nothing a few days’ rest won’t cure. The Death Eaters knew Harry had been there. I was so stupid to get them involved in this.”

“It’s not your fault, Tonks.” Ginny’s father assured the Auror, though Ginny knew it wouldn’t do much good. She never felt comforted when she wanted to blame herself for something. “They volunteered. Ted and Andromeda knew what they were getting into when they offered to harbor Harry.”

“It’s not just that.” Tonks replied, shaking her head without opening her eyes. “Mum is beside herself. She feels guilty and terrified at the same time, though I told her to only worry about herself.”

“No one can blame them if they told the Death Eaters Harry had been brought here.” Bill said softly, clutching onto Fleur’s newly manicured hand. “Harry, Ron, and Hermione are long gone and the Death Eaters won’t be able to find them.”

Her dad had sent a patronus to Sirius’ house telling Harry, Ron, and Hermione not to contact them. Lupin had gone outside to look at the damage to the property after the Death Eaters left and returned with grim news: they were being watched. Ginny’s eyes watered as she thought about Ron and Harry, hoping that Hermione would be able to care for them.

The Death Eaters had been at the Burrow for several hours. If it hadn’t been for Kingsley’s warning, none of them would have been able to make it out of there alive. As it were, too many people had stayed behind.

She had watched Hermione grab hold of Ron and Harry and disappear. Ginny wanted to join them, but she couldn’t leave her parents. Her instincts told her she was needed at home. It hadn’t been a mistake, though others would have told her otherwise. Her presence meant the others didn’t need to suffer unnecessarily.

There were Aurors and Order members dueling Death Eaters while the wedding guests Disapparated around her. She ran toward her brother, George, to help him duel three Death Eaters. Before she knew it, one of the Death Eaters had broken her away from George’s side and they were starting to circle towards the forest.

“Stupefy!” Ginny shouted, missing the Death Eater by inches. She dodged the next several spells that had been meant for her, but it was over quickly despite her efforts.

Someone grabbed her from behind, jabbing their want into the side of her neck so hard that Ginny gasped. The laughter of the new Death Eater chilled her bones and she recognized it immediately: Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Gather them up, Jugson!” Bellatrix shrieked to the Death Eater Ginny had been battling, and then started dragging Ginny toward the Burrow. “Quickly!”

It was then that Ginny realized she no longer had her wand. When had she lost it? Did Bellatrix have it? Through her struggling, Ginny noticed her wand lying helpless on the ground a few feet away.

“Ginny!” Her mother’s high-pitched voice echoed across the fields surrounding the Burrow. “Let go of my daughter!”

A burst of light came soaring towards Ginny and Bellatrix, but Bellatrix waved her wand lazily and the spell disappeared. Bellatrix’s responded with hysterical laughter as she returned her wand to Ginny’s throat.

“Drop your wands and move inside or the girl dies.” Lucius Malfoy’s drawl sounded over the various duels that were continuing. Ginny saw her mum, dad, brothers, Lupin, and Tonks slowly lower their wands, and one-by-one, the wands dropped to the ground.

Ginny continued to struggle in Bellatrix’s arms, angry that everyone had surrendered so easily. Harry wouldn’t have stopped fighting because of the tiny little threat. There were more important things than her life. They had to defeat the Death Eaters.

Bellatrix continued to hold Ginny in the front of the living room as the others were instructed to take seats facing the fireplace. There were at least twelve Death Eaters with their wands raised ready for the attack, but most were standing outside or in the doorways. Only Bellatrix and Malfoy were in the living room with the wedding party.

“Where is the boy?” Lucius demanded, his face blank and expressionless. Ginny had the odd feeling he didn’t expect Harry Potter to be there.

No one answered him.

“You want to play?” Bellatrix cried out gleefully. She let go and pushed Ginny to the floor. Before Ginny could recover, she felt the full force of the Cruciatus Curse envelop her body.

She couldn’t help but scream out in agony. Through the excruciating pain and ear-splitting screams, Ginny could hear her mother pleading with Bellatrix to stop.

“Please! Please!” Molly Weasley had stood and attempted to rush to Ginny’s side, but Malfoy threw her into the back wall. Over her own screams, Ginny could hear her mother’s. “He’s not here! Please stop!”

Finally, the pain ceased. Ginny didn’t have the energy to open her eyes, so she just listened to the conversation as it unfolded.

“You are going to fight all of us? With what? Your fists?” Malfoy sneered. “Sit down!”

“Even if we did know where Harry is, we would never tell you.” Fred was defiant, and Ginny knew he spoke the truth. She would suffer infinitely to keep Harry safe. They were the closest thing to family he had—they would never give him up to Lord Voldemort.

“Is that so, boy?” Malfoy’s voice was further away from Ginny, now. “You know where he is, and we will get the information we seek.”

“Have you tried looking up your butt?” George then spat, and Ginny could only assume it was in Malfoy’s face.

There was a hiss and then pain engulfed her again. It was like a thousand knives slicing every inch of her body—if it weren’t under these circumstances, she would have begged for death. But if death came to her too soon, her family would be next to endure this torture. She screamed long and hard, but never once did she beg for the pain to end.

“Pick on someone your own size, Bellatrix!” Charlie’s voice roared over Ginny’s screams.

The pain kept on going, the Curse never ceasing. She heard shuffling sounds and then shattering. She couldn’t think about anything but the pain, now. It seemed to go on for eternity before it finally lifted.

“SIT DOWN!” Another male voice bellowed as Ginny breathed heavily, curled up into a fetal position on the floor. “OR THE GIRL DIES.”

Ginny quickly realized that her brothers had tried to protect her, and the shattering noise was the glass breaking as other Death Eaters attempted to regain control of their captives. She heard the sounds of feet returning to their original destinations, and then felt the bottoms of robes as they swayed over her body. Someone was standing above her.

The person knelt down to her level and stroked her cheek with his or her wand. She twitched at the feeling, expecting more pain. But nothing happened.

“Potter loves you.” Malfoy’s voice was gentle, as though he were talking to a daughter. “Draco says he would do anything to protect you. Where is he now, when you are at my mercy? Why would he leave you here to die?”

Ginny lay there silently, breathing heavily. Even if she did have the energy to respond, she wouldn’t have.

“You know where he is, girl.” Malfoy’s voice was still soft, but much less gentle. “This will all be over when you tell us where Potter has gone.”

Ginny forced her eyes open; she was looking directly into Malfoy’s face. She parted her lips as though she was going to say something, but all she could do was muster a whisper. He leaned forward, an eager expression on his face.

“Yes?” He asked excitedly.

“You’ll have to kill me, then.” Ginny whispered hoarsely, and Malfoy slapped her so forcefully her head bounced on the floor. She started laughing at his reaction.

“You little ingrate!” Malfoy hissed and waved his wand at her vehemently.

Ginny braced herself for the Cruciatus Curse again, but it did not come. Malfoy’s spell was much different than Bellatrix’s this time. Her entire body felt as though it were engulfed in flames. She felt as though her organs, muscles, and bones were all on fire.

“It BURNS!” Ginny screamed, writhing from the pain. She felt tears flood down her face, but the wetness did nothing to soothe the fire. Finally, she wanted to die. She would do anything to make the pain stop. Anything but give up Harry, so she did not beg for death nor did she ask for the pain to end. She just screamed in the worst agony one could ever experience.

She was sure her brothers had exploded once again, but this time she could not focus on anything but the fire that was coursing through her body. Bellatrix’s laughter echoed in the small room, but that was all Ginny could hear: Bellatrix’s laughter in her head.

And once again, the pain ended abruptly.

“There’s one missing.” Another voice sounded, but Ginny was physically drained. She could not muster the energy to do anything but listen.

“What?” Malfoy asked, exasperated.

“One of the Weasleys. Potter’s friend. He’s not here.” The same voice counted quietly to himself, and then reinforced his statement. “Yep. There is one at the Ministry. There should be six, but there’s only five.”

“No! No!” Ginny’s mother cried out, sobbing heavily. “He’s upstairs with spattergroit. He’s ill.”

“Avery, Macnair. Go check.” Bellatrix commanded.

The room was silent while the two Death Eaters checked on her brother, only Ginny knew differently. They were all about to find out whether the plan was going to work; the Death Eaters were about to find the Weasley’s ghoul in Ronald’s bed.

A few minutes later, Ginny heard footsteps on the stairs, and then a Death Eater announced what Ginny had expected to hear. “He’s up there, all right.”

“Then, we shall leave.” Malfoy announced, surprising Ginny. She had been sure the Death Eaters would kill them all for harboring Harry Potter. “Do you still wish to hide the boy from us?”

Again, the room remained silent.

“That is fine.” Bellatrix giggled. “Just know we will find him.”

Ginny heard the popping sound of Disapparition outside, signaling the retreat of the Death Eaters. She felt a sudden jolt of electricity as someone felt the need to curse her once more, and then all was silent.

“Oh, Ginny!” Her mother cried loudly, hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright, mum.” Ginny muttered coarsely. “I’ll be fine.”

“Those bloody…” George said in a threatening voice. “They just better wait until it is a fair fight.”

“I’m fine, really, George.” Ginny reassured her brother and sat up briefly. It had been at that moment that someone Ginny didn’t recognize came rushing into the Burrow informing Tonks of the attack on her parents.

Ginny was returned to the present when Tonks finally opened her eyes and responded to Bill’s comment. “They didn’t tell them anything. It was Travers and Yaxley. They had a girl with them. Mum said she looked familiar, but she couldn’t remember where she had seen the girl before.”

“What did she look like?” Ginny asked, interested in the answer. “Did she hurt your parents, Tonks?”

“No, no.” Tonks shook her head. “When they arrived, Yaxley and Travers pushed the girl into the corner and forced her to watch what they were doing to mum and dad. Mum said it looked like she was a prisoner or something. The girl begged them to stop torturing mum, and they attacked her. Mum feels guilty for not being able to protect the girl.”

“But there wasn’t anything she could have done.” Fred answered automatically, squinting his eyes as he, too, wondered who the girl was.

“I keep telling her that, but she won’t listen to me.” Tonks sighed. “I better get back to them.”

“I’m coming with you this time.” Lupin responded matter-of-factly, and stood. “Maybe she’ll listen to me.”

“Maybe.” Tonks nodded, standing and taking Lupin’s hand.

Ginny, however, couldn’t get her mind off the girl. Tonks hadn’t provided them any information about who the girl was or why the Death Eaters had her. She thought about writing to Neville, but she didn’t want the owl intercepted. For some reason, Ginny felt like this mystery girl would be very important to her.

*~*~*~*

He stood in the corner of his family’s dining room, watching the others as they returned from their various missions. Most of the Death Eaters had returned, with the exception of those who had been at the Tonks’ and the Weasley’s.

Draco clenched and unclenched his hands nervously. They were sweaty from the anxiety of waiting for his father to return. His father couldn’t fail again—they would all be sentenced to death. Once a revered member of the Death Eaters, his father now held little clout. And Draco’s position within the Death Eaters also hung by a thread, contingent on his father’s behavior and success. It was horrifying.

The atmosphere was one of excitement. The Dark Lord had sent the Death Eaters to attack various homes associated with the Order of the Phoenix, knowing full well that none would give up Potter. The day’s events were to stir fear into the wizarding community; they would soon have Potter, the Dark Lord had said.

He breathed a sigh of relief when his father entered through the front door with his aunt Bellatrix following close behind, an exuberant expression on her face. She was always so thrilled to serve the Dark Lord, and Draco looked up to her.

A few moments later, Yaxley and Travers, the last of the Death Eaters, entered quietly without drawing attention to themselves; Draco appeared to be the only one to have noticed their presence. He was surprised and did a double take when he realized they were not alone.

Aly? He asked himself, and then shook his head. No. It couldn’t be Aly. She was locked away in America. But as he took a closer look, he had to admit that it was really her. He hadn’t seen her in two years, but she still held the same beauty he had fallen in love with. Her brown hair was longer than he remembered, but the nose piercing was still there. She looked terrified and had tear streaks down her face, but it was definitely Alyson Scrimgeour.

Yaxley muttered something into her ear and then he pushed her into a chair, clutching her shoulder tightly to hold her in place. Then, she was obscured by the Death Eaters standing in front of her.

Draco jumped when he heard the voice of the Dark Lord. He had been staring at Aly so hard that he hadn’t noticed his master enter the room.

“Congratulations, my dear ones.” The Dark Lord’s voice slithered. Draco forced himself to look in the Dark Lord’s direction instead of at Aly. He couldn’t risk being disciplined by the Dark Lord once again, though he desperately wanted to watch Aly. “Your unending devotion has allowed me to gain power once again. Tell me, how did the mission go?”

“My Lord!” Travers said loudly from the back of the room. “Rufus Scrimgeour would not share information about the boy, but he was easily disposed of. Pius Thicknesse now sits at the Minister of Magic’s desk.”

“Well done, well done.” The Dark Lord clapped his hands together, an excited gleam in his fiery red eyes. Draco trembled slightly at the pure evil in his master’s eyes. “And the others?”

“No one could tell us where the boy is, my Lord.” Severus Snape, Draco’s favorite professor at Hogwarts up until this past year, replied. “Only a few people know where Potter is hidden, though I believe he was at the Burrow up until moments before our arrival.”

“That is no matter.” The Dark Lord waved his hand dismissively at the news. “A boy of seventeen cannot be difficult to find. He will make mistakes and we will be waiting. Two of you missed your chance at capturing him this evening and will be punished accordingly, however.”

His master paused, looking around the room. Draco took that moment to glance back in Aly’s direction. He still couldn’t see Aly through the crowd of people, but wondered why she was there. Clearly she wasn’t there by choice; Yaxley’s treatment of her made that obvious.

She must have been there. Draco thought suddenly, dropping his head. Aly must have been with her father when Yaxley and Travers arrived to kill them. Why didn’t they kill her? he questioned awkwardly as he raised his eyes to look at Yaxley. It only made sense for them to dispose of the entire family.

“What about the blood traitor?” The Dark Lord asked, looking at Draco’s father. Lucius stepped forward with his head held high.

“He is ill with spattergroit.” Lucius informed the Dark Lord as he knelt to the ground before the Dark Lord’s feet. “Avery and Macnair saw the boy themselves.”

“Is that true, Macnair?” The Dark Lord demanded darkly, doubt ringing in his voice. “It seems unlikely the boy would not accompany Potter.”

“Y-y-yes, master.” Macnair bowed deeply from where he stood, refusing to look the Dark Lord in the eyes. “He-h-h-he was very ill.”

“Very well.” The Dark Lord started to pace at the front of the room. He raised his white hand and stroked his chin for a moment, then continued. “And the mudblood?”

“We visited her home, my Lord.” Rabastan Lestrange nodded his head as he spoke admiringly. “It has been deserted, my Lord. We believe she is in hiding.”

“Draco!” The Dark Lord called suddenly and Draco jumped at the sound of his name. He never liked being addressed by the Dark Lord; it gave too many opportunities for him to disappoint his master once again.

“Yes, master?” He asked, not allowing himself to stutter like a fool. His birthright gave him certain privileges, and with those privileges came specific responsibilities. He must make his father proud.

“Do you believe the mudblood is in hiding?” The Dark Lord questioned, looking directly into Draco’s eyes.

Draco swallowed and then shook his head. His voice came out much louder than he expected. “No, my Lord. She is with Potter.”

“It is as I suspected.” The Dark Lord nodded and turned away from Draco, as Draco sighed in relief. “Then we shall need to find her parents. When we have her parents, the mudblood will come to us. And with the mudblood will be Potter.”

Draco heard quiet utters of “Yes, my Lord,” and “Yes, master” echo throughout the crowd. He did not say anything as he watched the Dark Lord’s expression first turned dangerously dark, and then slightly amused. A faint smile played on the Dark Lord’s lips.

“Ahh.” The Dark Lord sighed with interest as he turned his attention to the very back of the living room. “We have a visitor.”

Draco felt the blood drain from his cheeks as he watched the Death Eaters turn their attention to the back of the room, where he could finally see Aly Scrimgeour. Her eyes were opened wide and she clutched the sides of the chair she was seated in. Her expression would have been unreadable to those who didn’t know her well, but Draco knew she was terrified and, more significantly, vulnerable. The Dark Lord slowly, and deliberately, made his way towards the girl.

Draco couldn’t help but feel that Alyson Scrimgeour was finally going to get the punishment she deserved for abandoning him two years ago.


This chapter is brought to you with a huge thanks to my beta ChannelingGinny!! I love this chapter and I think it sets things up for what is to come. Anyway, I will work very, very, very hard to get one more chapter this month but I'm not sure it's going to be a possibility. This weekend will be spent packing and then next week I'm on vacation (in Chicago, Woohoo!!) and a few days after that I'll be moving. I will try, though!! Have a good day everyone!

Chapter Four: Cruciatus

She should have been listening to what the man was saying to his followers, but all she could do was stare with seething hatred towards Draco Malfoy. He stood against the wall, looking so cool and confident. Draco didn’t even flinch when the man spoke to him. But what made the situation so much worse was that Draco kept stealing glares in her direction, as well, so their eyes were forced to meet.

He looked confused when he first saw her, but once realization that she was really in his house hit him, his expression turned to loathing. Each time she moved in her seat to escape Draco’s line of sight, Yaxley’s grip on her shoulder tightened.

Aly hadn’t been to Malfoy Manor in several years, though she had come to know it well. She remembered when she and Draco explored every nook and cranny, trying to find hiding spots to do their spell experimentation. They had spent many hours out in the field behind Draco’s house where Mr. Malfoy had built Draco a Quidditch pitch.

She had spent so much time at Malfoy Manor that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy considered her like a daughter, only she wasn’t anything that resembled a sister-figure to Draco. Yes, they had some good times, but that was over now. Draco had abandoned her and left her for dead at Farnsworth. Had it not been for Lindsay and Shawn, she probably would have murdered someone to escape.

“It is as I suspected.” For the first time, Aly looked towards the man who held everyone’s attention. He was more terrifying than she had ever imagined, with his incredibly pale skin and snakelike face. He did not even resemble anything close to human. And his voice was more chilling than everything else; it sent shivers down her spine. “Then we shall need to find her parents. When we have her parents, the mudblood will come to us. And with the mudblood will be Potter.”

Echoes of “Yes, my Lord,” and “Yes, master” sounded throughout the room.

The man stopped momentarily and listened, raising his arm to indicate the others should do the same. After a short moment, a smile formed on his face and he nodded in understanding. “Ahh.” Lord Voldemort turned slowly in her direction and the Death Eaters moved out of the way so he could have a clear view of Aly. “We have a visitor.”

Her mind raced as each Death Eater eye turned onto her. The man spoke to her in a falsely sweet tone. “What is your name, my dear?”

What was she supposed to say? What should she call him? Lord Voldemort was not an option. She didn’t have a death wish, after all. She did feel comfortable calling him by name, just not to his face. He wasn’t her master and she wasn’t his follower, so “master” or “my Lord” didn’t seem appropriate titles.

“The girl is Alyson Scrimgeour, my Lord.” Travers announced confidently, standing tall and proud of his capture.

“Quiet Travers!” The man hissed. Yaxley’s hand immediately withdrew from her shoulder in response. “I was speaking to the girl.”

Lord Voldemort directed his attention toward her once again. His voice softened as he repeated the question. “What is your name, my dear?”

Aly forced her voice to project louder than a whisper, and worked to hide the fear that was pulsating through her body. “Alyson Scrimgeour…” she paused as she debated what to call him, “sir.”

“I am assuming you are some relation to the recently departed Minister of Magic, are you not?” His eyes narrowed and flamed with anger, though Aly wasn’t sure if the anger was meant for her or the two Death Eaters who had brought her to him.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. He was going to kill her, she just knew it. Aly nodded as she spoke. “Yes, sir. Rufus is my father.”

“Was, Alyson. Was your father.” The man added quickly, and then flicked his wand at Travers.

Aly jumped as Travers fell to the ground and screamed in utter agony. She recognized the spell immediately as the same one she had used over two years ago: the Cruciatus Curse.

Lord Voldemort released the curse and spoke in a dangerous tone, looking around the room of Death Eaters for the traitor. “Why was I not aware that Rufus Scrimgeour had a daughter?”

The man’s usage of the past tense made her nervous. Was he referring to the fact that her father was dead and therefore could no longer be a father, or was he saying that his daughter would not exist much longer?

The room remained ominously silent, so the man called out to one of his followers. “Lucius.” Lord Voldemort called out the name of Draco’s father. Aly had noticed quite surprisingly that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had refused to look at her, even after Lord Voldemort had taken notice of her. “You continue to disappoint me, Lucius. First, you fail to capture the prophecy. Now you neglect to provide me with critical information for our mission. You have maintained close contacts with those powerful within the Ministry. Please enlighten me as to why this information did not seem important enough for you to share with your master.”

“M-My Lord.” Mr. Malfoy stepped forward and bowed at the man’s feet. Aly couldn’t help but notice how much Draco’s father had aged in the past few years. He had gone from confident to frightened, and his eyes showed a lifetime of fear. It was disconcerting to look at him. “The girl has been in Farnsworth for the past two years, my Lord. We did not think she had or would return.”

Lord Voldemort’s eyes turned upon her and she felt him enter her mind. Her reflexes fought the intrusion, but she could not expunge the man from her mind. She watched again the moment when she and Draco had been in that field with the muggle; she saw her father dragging her away by the arm, cursing under his breath about what a disgrace she was; and she saw her father and the Headmistress of Farnsworth, Talia Brooks, during the admission process into the prison-like school. They were lecturing her about the proper conduct for a politician’s daughter. And then, as sudden as the intrusion began, Lord Voldemort left her mind.

He looked at her curiously and with a half-smile, and then he rubbed his chin as he thought about what he had just learned. “Very interesting, Alyson Scrimgeour. Very interesting, indeed. Could you please lift your jeans so I may see your ankle?”

Aly was immediately confused. Why would he want to see her ankle? Without thinking, she hesitantly pulled up the clothing of her right leg.

“The other leg.” The man demanded. It wasn’t spoken harshly, but there was a terrifying edge to his voice that frightened Aly.

“Yes…” Aly once again paused as she debated what to call him. Dark Lord? Master? My Lord? She refused to call him as such if he was going to murder her. “Sir.”

“Master is what you shall call me, Alyson Scrimgeour.” Lord Voldemort’s words sent chills through her entire body. Had he read her mind? Of course she shouldn’t have been surprised in the least, but she couldn’t help feel that the man had intruded on her privacy. “And I do not intend to end your life today. You seem to possess the certain…qualities…I am looking for in a Death Eater, Alyson. If you promise to be a good girl, I will train you to be a very powerful witch.”

Aly thought about this for a moment. She didn’t have any option but to adhere to the ultimatum Lord Voldemort gave her. She did not want to die and would do all she could for self-preservation. But could she murder someone? Yes. Aly had her answer immediately. I will do whatever is necessary to survive. And she knew this was true. That was one of the more clearly defined characteristics of a Slytherin, after all, and one that separated them from Gryffindors.

The more she thought about the option in front of her, the more she knew what she had to do. Just as she was about to voice her decision to the man standing in front of her, she felt the stabbing needles that could only be the Cruciatus Curse. She didn’t even feel herself falling off the chair and hitting the floor. The pain was excruciating, so much so that she begged for him to end it all.

“PLEASE!” Aly screamed, though she wasn’t sure how loud her voice had actually risen. The pain took over everything sensory. “KILL ME NOW! PLEASE!”

Finally, the curse was lifted and the pain stopped. She breathed heavily as the man spoke to her again. “Get yourself back into the chair, Alyson Scrimgeour. I want you to look at me when I speak with you.”

Aly struggled to push herself off the ground—it seemed as though all of her strength had disappeared with the spell. Though she wasn’t sure how it had happened, Aly found enough strength to pull herself into the chair and hold her head high enough so that she was looking at the frightening man.

“You are young, Alyson, and have much to learn.” His voice was dangerously calm, though it showed that his patience was thinning. “You are never to address me by name, do you understand?”

Aly nodded and wondered if that meant in her thoughts, as well.

“Never.” Lord Voldemort hissed. Yes, Aly thought. Even in my thoughts. “And I will not tolerate treason. One small, tiny, action against me or one of my Death Eaters and I will assume that you are committing treason. Do you know what the penalty for treason is, my dear?”

“Death.” Aly whispered, balling her hands into fists at her side. She was terrified of this man and would follow his every command.

“That is correct.” He answered. “Lastly, Alyson, wearing muggle clothing is unacceptable. As a witch, you are superior to muggles in every way and must distinguish yourself from those unworthy creatures. Is that understood?”

“Yes.” Aly nodded.

“Master.” Lord Vol-the man demanded harshly. His eyes narrowed as she almost thought his name, but she caught herself in time.

“Yes, master.” Aly whispered.

“Your leg, Alyson.” The man gestured with his wand towards her right ankle and she slowly lifted the leg of her jeans.

She looked down to verify what he wanted to see, though she realized immediately what he had seen in her memory. She heard a high-pitched giggle that could only have come from Draco’s aunt: Bellatrix Lestrange. Aly had only seen pictures of the famous Death Eater, but she didn’t look at the woman now. Hopefully, there would be plenty of time to see what the woman looked like. Now, she only had eyes for the man who held her fate.

“You are not the first to favor the Unforgiveable Curses, Alyson.” He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (in her mind) seemed pleased with the tattoo burned onto the skin above her ankle. It was one of the three tattoos she had received shortly after beginning her tenure at Farnsworth. “But you may well have been the youngest to be so courageous, or should I say rebellious, as to proudly display your interest in the Dark Arts. This is why I believe you will be precious to me.

“Now, I expect you to follow your instructions exactly.” He spoke slowly, as though she would have trouble understanding him. “You will be staying here with me. There is a room just up the stairs and down the hall on your left. I believe it is just across from the young Malfoy’s room. You know of it?”

“Yes, master.” Aly acknowledged.

“Go there now and await your next instruction.” The man commanded. Without a word, Aly rose from her seat and quickly made her way towards the bedroom she had frequently stayed in when visiting Draco.

Aly accidentally brushed her hand against Draco’s arm as she walked by him and he flinched away. Her stomach pinched itself, insulted that Draco couldn’t even touch her. Why did he hate her so much? What had she done to offend him? He had been the one that had ignored her.

Moments later, she found herself in that spare bedroom waiting for word of what she would be expected to do. She curled up on the bed, sitting against the headboard, hugging her knees, and fingering the tattoo her captor had shown the entire room: Cruciatus.

She was certain that her new master knew about the two other tattoos that were engraved on her skin, and she was thankful that he had not forced her to share them with Draco.

Aly leaned her cheek against her knee and felt the first tear fall from her eye. She would allow herself this one moment of weakness, but then she must overcome them; she must stay strong if she was going to survive her imprisonment.

*~*~*~*

He was both mortified and ecstatic at the same time, and didn’t know which emotion was more powerful. How dare she come back into his life? Into his home? This was his space, not hers! It didn’t matter that he felt like a prisoner in his own home due to the Dark Lord’s constant presence. It was still his.

But now the Dark Lord was forcing her to be there. For all Draco knew, Aly had planned this. Maybe she wanted to come back just to ruin his life. She had always talked about how much she hated her father; maybe Aly was the one that had flicked the wand. It wouldn’t surprise him if Travers and Yaxley had chickened out or failed to get into the Minister’s office. Maybe she had come back just to murder her father.

And then ruin his life. He had been adjusting quite well with the fact that she had completely abandoned him. She felt she was too good for him, too good to send owls. He knew for a fact that students at Farnsworth were still able to communicate with the outside world. Even those at Azkaban could have visitors, though limited and highly monitored.

Aly had brushed his arm with her hand in her haste to exit after the Dark Lord had dismissed her. What was that all about, anyway? What was her game? What was she playing at? Draco could not imagine what motivation she could have for any of her actions that evening.

He would deal with her, expose her for what she truly was. And then the Dark Lord would praise him and his family. The Malfoys would be revered and feared among the Death Eaters once again. He would make sure of that.

“Travers, Yaxley, step forward.” The Dark Lord’s voice was calm and restrained, though Draco knew that punishment would soon be handed out. He just hoped he would not be on the receiving end of his master’s anger.

“Yes, m-m-m-m-master?” Travers stuttered, stepping forward and kneeling at the feet of the Dark Lord. Yaxley looked less fearful, but followed Travers’ actions.

“Did I authorize a capture?” The Dark Lord started circling the two on the floor while the Death Eaters watching widened the space between the Dark Lord, the two being reprimanded, and them. Draco remained where he stood against the wall, completely still.

“No, my Lord.” Yaxley replied simply, knowing it would be better to elaborate only when asked.

“Why was this girl brought to our headquarters? To our meeting? And into my presence?” The Dark Lord continued circling very, very slowly, and Draco could see the bright red glow of his eyes in the almost-darkness.

“She showed up out of nowhere. She tried to attack us, my Lord.” Travers looked up to the Dark Lord and pleaded for mercy. “Yaxley wanted to kill her, master. But she is a pureblood. You told us not to spill unnecessary pure blood.”

“I see.” The Dark Lord paused, rubbing his chin as he thought. “And you brought her straight to me. Would it not have been wiser to keep her somewhere else until instructed otherwise?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Yaxley answered, nodding his head. “We should not have brought her to headquarters.”

Draco jumped as Yaxley started screaming. He watched without feeling as his fellow Death Eater was being tortured mercilessly for several minutes before it finally came to an end.

“NO!” The Dark Lord bellowed, lunging down and grabbing Yaxley by the chin so his fingers dug into Yaxley’s cheeks. Yaxley looked taken aback and his eyes widened in true fear. “You are very lucky the girl will prove to be very useful to me, Yaxley. But next time, we are to kill all those who stand in our way. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master.” Yaxley panted and the Dark Lord let go of the Death Eater.

“Bellatrix and Antonin.” The Dark Lord raised his hand as he spoke, indicating that the two he requested should step forward.

“Yes, my Lord?” Aunt Bellatrix stepped forward eagerly, her bosom rising and lowering violently as she became excited for the task the Dark Lord was about to assign her.

“Take these two outside and show them what it means to disobey Lord Voldemort.” The Dark Lord spoke and Bellatrix’s eyes lit up in ecstasy.

“Yes, master.” Bella clapped her hands in glee, and then used her wand to carry the two into Draco’s backyard. Antonin followed close behind with a similar expression of happiness. As they left, Draco could hear his aunt’s voice echoing through the halls. “It’s play time!”

“That is all for this evening. You are dismissed.” The Dark Lord waved his hand and the crowd of Death Eaters began to disperse, most of them stepping outside to Disapparate. Draco heaved a sigh of relief and attempted to make his way towards the stairs so he could have some privacy, but he was stopped by the sound of his master’s voice. “Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco. I wish to speak with you.”

Draco followed his father and mother to the couch where the Dark Lord gestured for them to sit. The Dark Lord stood in front of the fire, facing away from them. His mind was racing—was he going to be punished for something? What could he have done wrong? Aly was to blame, there was no other explanation.

“I was surprised when I travelled into Alyson Scrimgeour’s mind this evening. Surprised, not only by the fact that you had known about her existence, Lucius.” The Dark Lord spoke softly, though with evil malice. He turned slowly to look Draco’s father in the eye and Draco felt his father stiffen. “Do you know what else surprised me, Lucius?”

“No, my Lord.” Lucius whispered hoarsely, as though he hadn’t spoken in weeks or had a drink of water in days.

“Alyson Scrimgeour was almost raised in this very house.” The Dark Lord hissed dangerously and Draco cringed. The Dark Lord would know how serious Draco’s relationship was with Aly. “She was like a daughter to you, Narcissa.

“I did not expect to see what I witnessed of you in that field, Draco.” The Dark Lord turned to Draco and he felt himself tense with anxiety. “You could torture that muggle, but you couldn’t perform a simple Killing Curse.”

“I didn’t-” Draco began, but was interrupted by the Dark Lord.

“She seems to have an interesting effect on you, Draco.” The Dark Lord looked at him curiously, though the anger did not disappear. “I am interested to see whether she will help make you useful to me once again.”

“My Lord, you don’t think-” Draco’s mother started to protest, but the Dark Lord interrupted her, as well.

“Yes, I do think she will betray me. But Alyson Scrimgeour will be useful to me in more ways than one, Narcissa.” He spoke harshly to Draco’s mother, and there was nothing Draco could do to defend her. If he were to say something, they would all be punished. “That is why I need each of you to treat her as you have in the past. Am I clear?”

“Yes, master.” Draco acknowledged, crossing his arms in disgust. The Dark Lord may order him to be civil to Aly, but he would not treat her like he had before she left him. She didn’t deserve that kind of mercy.

“Of course, my Lord.” Narcissa whispered.

“Yes, my Lord.” Lucius responded, nodding his head.

“That is all.” The Dark Lord dismissed the three of them and returned his attention to the fireplace. Draco took the opportunity to escape to his bedroom.

Upstairs, he immediately went to the picture of Aly and tore it down, throwing it angrily into the garbage. He did not need any more reminders that Alyson Scrimgeour, his one-time best friend, was back in his life.

He quickly got ready for bed, using the bathroom attached to his bedroom, and started to lay down when he heard a noise in the hall. Draco quietly snuck to his door and opened it enough to see across the hall.

His father was knocking on Aly’s bedroom door with a small pile of robes. “Aly, open this door.”

A few moments later, Aly opened the door. Her eyes were swollen and puffy while her cheeks burned red—Draco was taken aback by the fact that Aly had been crying. He thought back and could not identify one moment where he had noticed even a small wetness glisten in her eyes. He almost felt sorry for her before he realized this was probably some form of ploy to gain his or his family’s trust. He would not fall for it.

“Here.” Lucius thrust the pile of robes into Aly’s arms before she could say anything. “Do not take this as a gesture of forgiveness, Alyson.”

Lucius turned and left before any more could be said and Draco quietly closed his door before Aly noticed he was listening. He leaned against his door and sank to the floor in utter confusion. She looked so pitiful, could this really be an act? He fell asleep in that position, thinking about Alyson Scrimgeour.


Thank you so much to ChannelingGinny, my beta! And thank you to everyone for bearing with me. It's been quite awhile since my last post, but I finally did it! And I really hope it is a good chapter, I know that I enjoyed writing it! Let me know your thoughts!

Chapter 5: Dropping Out

“Ginny.” She heard someone whispering her name and felt someone’s hand gently shaking her shoulder, but she couldn’t muster the motivation to turn over and acknowledge their presence. They should know better than to awaken her during her peaceful slumber, especially after what she had endured the day before.

Instead, she pulled the comforter over her head and moaned, signaling to her visitor that he was unwanted. It was summer and she still used a heavy comforter. That was a habit from when she was younger; Ginny could not sleep without having something covering her body.

“Ginny!” The voice was exasperated, but she thought she recognized it. It was out of place; its owner should not be in her house. How would he even have been able to get near the house? “Wake up!”

“Neville?” She mumbled incoherently and with confusion as she lowered the comforter and looked at him with blurry eyes.

Her eyes were not deceiving her. Neville Longbottom was kneeling on the floor next to her bed with a worried expression on his face. His hair was disheveled and his clothes were wrinkled. It looked like he hadn’t slept at all that night. She rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed.

“Sorry to come so early, but I heard about what happened yesterday and was hoping we could talk.” He looked at her sympathetically and carefully attempted to nonchalantly eye her for injuries. She thought it was sweet.

“Sure.” She nodded, rubbing her fingers through her hair. “Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Thanks, Ginny.” Neville smiled at her and slowly left her room, leaving Ginny to wonder what Neville would want with her.

During their time at Hogwarts, Ginny and Neville had never been particularly close. As far as she knew, Neville didn’t have many friends, if any close ones. They had gotten along well, but he was so quiet and reserved. During the days of Dumbledore’s Army during her fourth year at Hogwarts, Neville really came out of his shell and shined in his magical abilities. They had hung out on several occasions because Harry had thought to invite Neville over. But she had never seen Neville outside of Hogwarts, let alone have him over to her home.

She didn’t mind that he came to her, though. Who else would he have gone to? He got along well with many of their classmates, but she couldn’t remember his spending any significant amount of time with any one or two specific people.

Ginny quickly threw on some old clothes, ran a brush through her hair, and brushed her teeth so that Neville wouldn’t have to smell her morning breath. She then jogged down the stairs to meet Neville.

Neville was in the kitchen being force fed by her mother. He looked up at her as he put a large chunk of a cinnamon roll in his mouth, licking the frosting off his fingers.

“It’s about time you got up, Ginny.” Molly put her hands on her hips in a scolding manner, but quickly dropped the façade and rushed toward Ginny. Molly placed her hands on Ginny’s face and looked like she was going to cry. “How are you doing? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“I’m fine, mum.” Ginny mumbled, already tired of her mother’s fussing. After the Death Eaters left the Burrow last night, all of her family members, her brothers included, kept checking her for injuries.

Ginny was battered and bruised, but was healthy for the most part. She would go through the pain again if it meant she could keep her family and Harry safe. Next time, though, she wouldn’t tell anyone just how much pain she was in.

That had been a mistake.

“I am so sorry.” Molly shook her head as she backed away, wiping her hands on her apron. “I am so sorry.”

“Mum, it was not a big deal.” Ginny shrugged her shoulders and took a bite out of one of the many bagels stacked on the counter.

“NO BIG DEAL?!?” Ginny’s mother shrieked, throwing her hands in the air and glaring daggers at Ginny. “You could have been killed!”

“That’s not what I meant, mum.” Ginny was frustrated with being treated like the baby of the family. If Bill or Charlie had been tortured, they would have been praised for withstanding the pain. Each of her brothers would have been given more respect, and instead, she was treated like a fragile child.

“I know what you meant, Ginevera.” Molly responded sternly, not taking her eyes off Ginny. “Do not think you were heroic last night.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and chose not to respond to her mother’s accusation, though she did think she was a hero. She knew she had done well to protect her family and Harry. Instead, she turned to Neville. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Neville nodded and stood while Molly breathed heavily, looking at Ginny with deep-rooted concern.

“Don’t go far, Ginevra.” Molly called after them. “You know where the boundaries of the protection are.”

“Yes, mum.” Ginny called back, taking Neville’s hand and dragging him out of the house as quickly as they both could go.

They walked towards the woods, though Ginny knew they couldn’t go into them. The boundary of the protection spells extended just short of the forest surrounding her house. Ginny sighed as she plopped down onto an exposed root of a large tree and pulled her knees up to her chest.

“Sorry for my mom. She gets overbearing and protective sometimes.” Ginny muttered as she looked at Neville with what she hoped was an apologetic face. “But she means well.”
“She’s just worried about you.” Neville reassured her as he patted her on the shoulder and lowered himself onto the ground in front of her. He crossed his legs and looked at her sympathetically.

“Yeah, she does.” Ginny agreed, then remembered something that both confused and scared her, though she would never have admitted that to her brothers. “How did you get to the Burrow, Neville? If you got through the securities, we should let mum know so she can reinforce them.”

Neville smiled nervously at her question. “Fred and George gave me quite the fright, I’ll tell you that. But I heard what happened here yesterday and I wanted to come talk to you about it. The problem was that I had never been here before and I didn't know exactly where you lived.

“My grandmother supports what your parents are doing, and of course knew exactly where to find you. When I got here, however, I couldn’t see anything. I know there are some protection spells that will hide buildings, so I started shouting your name. I figured that would be the best way to see if you and your family were around.

“It was a long shot, but I tried anyway.” Neville smiled sheepishly at her and then continued. “That’s when Fred and George appeared. They didn’t recognize me at first, and were prepared to kill me, I reckon. Thankfully they realized who I was about one moment before they shot a Curse in my direction.”

Ginny was surprised that Neville would have thought to try getting her family’s attention that way. She was also surprised he would attempt to get close to the Burrow after what happened the day before, especially alone. Surely, Neville must have realized that they would have as much protection around the Burrow as possible. He must have known the Weasleys were prepared to use deadly force to protect their home. Neville definitely had changed from the nervous and clumsy boy she had once known, and Ginny knew Dumbldore’s Army was the reason behind his confidence.

“The whole family is on edge since Ron, Harry, and Hermione left.” Ginny nodded.

“And you being tortured by Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange could have nothing to do with that.” Neville responded solemnly.

Ginny smiled at Neville’s attempted humor. “Not at all. Now, Neville Longbottom, what would make you risk your life by coming to see me?”

“Why didn’t they kill you?” Neville asked with reservation. He looked like it hurt him to ask the question, but he did so anyway.

“What?” Ginny asked, confused by the question.

“Why didn’t they kill you?” He asked again, this time with more confidence. “I mean, they came looking for Harry. Aren’t the Death Eaters all about killing and revenge when they don’t get what they want?”

Ginny thought about Neville’s statement for a moment. It didn’t make sense to her, either. “Maybe they didn’t think killing me would lead to Harry. I mean, there would be no way any of the Weasley’s would tell them where Harry was if I had been killed. It would make my brothers want to fight the Death Eaters even more.”

“I thought of that, too.” Neville shook his head at her rationalization. “But I think it’s more than that. They wanted to hurt you, but they didn’t want to kill you. You don’t have any long-lasting injuries or anything. It could have been so much worse, especially if they wanted information. I think their attack was just for show.”

“For show?” Ginny asked in confusion. “Show for what?”

“That is what I haven’t worked out, yet.” Neville shrugged. “But I think I’m close. It just doesn’t make sense that they wouldn’t want to punish your family, known blood-traitors, for hiding Harry Potter.”

“Where did this come from, Neville?” Ginny asked, once again surprised by Neville’s ability for complex theories.

“What?” Neville asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Nothing.” Ginny was immediately sorry she said anything—she barely knew him and didn’t want to offend him.

“No, what?” Neville urged her.

“I didn’t know you could be so…” She fought for words that wouldn’t offend him. Neville wasn’t stupid, but she never thought he was too smart. Maybe it was his lack of confidence or his quiet demeanor. Whatever it was, this was a new Neville she had not expected to see.

“I know.” Neville blushed and lowered his eyes to the ground. “But, I’ve been thinking about this all night. There has to be more to this than Bellatrix and Malfoy showing you mercy. I mean, you are the key to finding Harry. He loves you.”

She didn’t argue against his thoughts because she knew he was right. The more he pointed it out, the more she realized he couldn’t be wrong about this. There were stronger motives behind the Death Eaters’ visit than any of the Weasleys or the Order of the Phoenix were giving them credit for.

“We shouldn’t tell anyone about this until we’ve figured out their agenda.” Ginny decided quickly. Neville nodded his head in agreement.They were quiet for a few minutes while Neville stared up at the sky. Ginny watched him as he debated something internally.

“There’s more.” He finally whispered, not looking Ginny in the eye. “I think she’s back.”
“Who?” Ginny asked, pulling her eyebrows together in concern and confusion. She didn’t feel the need to look around anxiously because she knew he didn’t mean a Death Eater.

“Alyson Scrimgeour.” Neville whispered quietly, barely making a sound. Ginny had to read the name on his lips to understand whom he meant. Her skin immediately went cold as her heartbeat raced at the name.

“No she’s not. She still has another year at Farnsworth.” Ginny refuted Neville’s newest theory. Ginny wasn’t afraid of Alyson Scrimgeour, but having the Slytherin back was definitely a bad situation.

“She must have left. She’s an adult witch now.” Neville shuddered at the idea and Ginny couldn’t blame him. Alyson had never tried to hurt her, but Alyson had tortured and harassed Neville relentlessly. Ginny, however, always suspected Aly’s façade was just that; she was just trying to impress her fellow Slytherins and act the poor little rich girl.
Having Alyson Scrimgeour back at Hogwarts would make Draco Malfoy even more devious. Draco was constantly trying to impress Aly by delving even deeper into the Dark Arts. No one would be safe now that Lord Voldemort had taken over the Ministry and would probably take over Hogwarts. Aly’s presence would make things even worse.

“How do you know? Where is she?” Ginny thought aloud, and then gasped in remembrance as a comment from the night before suddenly came back to her. “Andromeda recognized the girl with the Death Eaters. Aly was at the Tonks’s last night!”

“My grandmother’s girlfriends heard from someone at the ministry who heard news that Aly left Farnsworth in the middle of the night.” Neville explained how he had gained the information. “Rumor has it that she was in Scrimgeour’s office when it happened.”

“You don’t think she killed her own father, do you?” Ginny asked, doubtful that even Alyson Scrimgeour could be that evil.

“What are the odds she would come back the night before her father was murdered? I mean, if she didn’t kill him, where is she?” Neville pointed out. “I don’t see her seeking out help.”

“Maybe she’s scared and in hiding?” Ginny asked skeptically, though she didn’t think Aly would sink to that, either. “Maybe they are holding her captive?”

“Maybe.” Neville said, but he clearly didn’t think this was an option.

Neville may have believed that Aly killed her father, but Ginny couldn’t make it fit. “Well,” Ginny started and then paused to look at Neville honestly, “we can certainly keep an eye on her when school starts. That is, if she really is back.”

“I am not going back to Hogwarts.” Neville responded matter-of-factly.

“What?!?” Ginny exclaimed, standing up to make her point. “You can’t drop out of school, Neville. Dumbledore’s Army needs you.”

Ginny hadn’t thought about dropping out of school once since the Ministry of Magic fell. Granted, it had only been a few hours, but still. It would feel like quitting to her.

“It’s too dangerous.” Neville stood, as well, and informed Ginny of his decision. “I’ve thought about it, and I will not be a sitting duck for the Death Eaters. I will fight them outside of Hogwarts.”

“How do you plan to fight them?” Ginny demanded angrily.

“I haven’t gotten that far.” Neville laughed nervously. “I spent the entire night trying to figure out why the Death Eaters didn’t kill you. But I will make a difference, Ginny. I am not the person I used to be. I want to make my grandmother proud; I want to do something to make my name known.”

“You can do that after you finish school, Neville Longbottom.” Ginny placed her hands on her hips and realized too late that she had taken the stance her mother usually took when lecturing her.

“You are not my mother, Ginny.” Neville shook his head, noticing her posture. “And I am not asking for your permission or support. This is something I want to do. I have to do.

“For six years now, I have been the joke of Gryffindor. Why was I sorted into that House, Ginny?” Neville asked and Ginny couldn’t do anything but stare. “I know that everyone is nice to me because they have to be. I know that no one really cares what happens to me; I’ve got something to prove, Ginny.”

“I’m sorry, Neville.” Ginny apologized for her behavior. She shouldn’t have lectured Neville. He was able to make his own decisions. “You are stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for. There is a reason you were sorted into Gryffindor; you don’t have to prove why you are in that House.”

“Is this really about me dropping out of school?” Neville asked more heatedly than Ginny had ever seen him. “Or is it more than that?”

“It is more than that. Just think about what could happen if you do face the Death Eaters?” Ginny’s voice was strained with concern. “They will massacre you.”

“What do you care, Ginny?” Neville’s voice cut deep. The conversation had taken a deep turn and Ginny struggled to get it back to where it started. “It’s not like you ever noticed me before I stepped foot into your precious home.”

“That’s not true.” Ginny countered. “We’ve spent time together. We were…are…in Dumbledore’s Army together. I”

“And we went to the Yule Ball together. That brought me closer to you than anyone ever before.” Neville interrupted her before she could continue. “You may have been nice to me because you felt sorry for me or spent time with me because I had nowhere else to go. But I’ve changed. I do thank you for the time you shared with me and the compassion you showed me. And I do care about you and what happens to you. But don’t fool yourself into thinking that you care about me in any fashion.”

Ginny was speechless. Of course she cared about Neville. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t gotten to know each other well over the past few years or that they hadn’t become friends. She knew Neville well enough to care about what happened to him.

“Thank you for listening to me.” Neville’s voice dropped so he was no longer speaking in an agitated tone. “I’ll be in touch when I figure out what the Death Eaters really want.”

“Don’t go, Neville.” Ginny didn’t beg him, but it was sure close enough for her. “I didn’t mean anything, I swear.”

“I know, Ginny. Don’t worry about it.” Neville smiled at her, his mood lighting a little. “I really only came to share this with you. I’ll be back, that is, if I’m still welcome.”

“Of course you are welcome here, Neville.” Ginny answered immediately, punching him playfully on the shoulder. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too.” Neville laughed and then walked outside the secure barrier. Before he left the protection of the Burrow, Neville turned around and addressed her quietly, “I’m sorry, Ginny. I just can’t sit around and be useless anymore.”

Ginny watched Neville Disapparate before she could respond. She never knew Neville was hurting so bad and she hoped he wasn’t going to do anything stupid that would lead to him getting killed. He was talented when he believed he could do things; she hoped he could see that. Ginny then walked slowly back to the Burrow so she could face another round of familial pity.


I apologize for being so long in the making! It will probably be slow going for awhile, now that I have to program everything into my new computer (my old one got a virus)...and I rescued a kitten today. So, not sure when the next one will be coming. I WILL try to post more regularly, though. And thanks again to my great and amazing beta, ChannelingGinny!!

Chapter Six: Revenge and Reprimand

The night had been a long one. Aly wasn’t sure she slept at all, though she did feel somewhat rested. All she saw when she closed her eyes was Yaxley ending her father’s life. As much as she hated her father, she still loved him. It wasn’t something she could explain, but she knew what she felt was strong.

At some point throughout the torturous night, Aly realized that she needed to fight against Lord Voldemort. She would not be able to sit back and serve him faithfully after he had killed her father. After a full night of hard thinking, Aly realized there was something she could do. If she got closer to the man, she could identify a way to exact revenge.

It wasn’t just Lord Voldemort—or the Dark Lord—that needed to pay for what they did. She could not forget what these people had done to her father. She could not let that go. The Death Eaters had taken the only family she had left. And for that, each of the Death Eaters would pay in turn. More importantly, Lord Voldemort would pay.

That was the last thing she remembered, so she must have fallen asleep. Her eyes were dry and her muscles no longer ached from stress. The bed was comfortable and it reminded her of home, though at the same time she wished she could have slept in her own bed.

That was not an option, however. She would have to be strong and overcome her desire to leave the Malfoy house. Draco’s presence made her task even more difficult, but she would not succumb to her weakness. Draco had abandoned her and she would not give him the satisfaction of letting him know how much she desired him…desired his body.

She slowly pulled the sheets back and lowered herself to the floor. Mr. Malfoy had brought some of Mrs. Malfoy’s robes the night before so that she would have something to wear. She had not expected kindness, but she was confused by his statement when he gave her the robes.

His voice rang through her mind: “Do not take this as a gesture of forgiveness, Alyson.” What did he mean?

What would she need forgiveness for? Barging into his home? That wasn’t her fault. She had been forced there by Yaxley and Travers and ordered to stay by Lord Voldemort. What did he expect her to do? Just get up and walk out?

Her thoughts raced as she pulled one of the robes over her head. She sniffed the sleeve and recognized the salty aroma of Mrs. Malfoy. As she thought it would, the smell reminded her of the woman’s son. Stop it! Alyson yelled at herself. She would never be able to complete her mission if she couldn’t keep her mind of Draco.

She sighed in relief when a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Coming!” she called and quickly ran to the bed and pulled the sheets back up. Then she went to the door and opened it to see Lucius Malfoy standing there, looking disgusted at having to do such a menial task.

“Your presence is requested downstairs, Alyson.” Mr. Malfoy turned and walked back towards the stairs. “I expect you will not keep the Dark Lord waiting.”

Aly took a deep breath, nervous for what was about to come. She quickly emptied her mind, something that wasn’t easy for her to do. But she needed to keep her mind free of traitorous thoughts so that the Dark Lord wouldn’t figure out what she was up to. Alyson could not let him kill her.

Aly followed Mr. Malfoy and glared at his back. He knew that she hated being called Alyson and he was doing everything in his power to show his dislike and distrust for her. It bothered her that she couldn’t figure out why they were so angry with her.

Mr. Malfoy led her into the dining room where she had eaten many meals with the Malfoy family. The Dark Lord sat at the head of the table with Severus Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Mrs. Malfoy to his right and in that order. There was an empty chair to his left; Draco sat next to the empty chair with his father sitting on the other side.

Aly had no choice but to sit next to Draco Malfoy. The heat radiated off his skin as she almost touched his arm while in the process of seating herself. He refused to look at her, choosing to focus his attention on a picture of himself that hung above a mantle across the room. She wanted desperately to look into his dark gray eyes, but that would give away too much. He would see the irrational feelings she felt for him if he was able to look into her eyes.

“Alyson Scrimgeour.” The Dark Lord’s voice was smooth and dark. The sound of it ran shivers down her spine and she hoped that no one saw it. “You know Bella and Severus, I presume.”

Alyson nodded at Bellatrix (whom she actually had only heard of and met for the first time last night) and spoke to Snape, “Professor.”

“Alyson.” The Dark Lord addressed her again and she turned her attention back to the man at the head of the table. “What are your plans for today?”

The question confused her because she was under the impression she could not do anything without the Dark Lord’s permission. “I was hoping to go into Diagon Alley today, my Lord.” Her voice exuded the confidence she had learned to uphold, though she was terrified on the inside.

“Yes, of course.” He nodded his head. “You are hoping to purchase some clothing.”

Aly nodded, and he continued. “I do not trust you, Alyson.”

She didn’t know how to respond, so she just nodded again. Aly took a brief chance and looked at Snape, who eyed her without emotion. She had not been close to the professor, but she knew that Snape was (or at least had been) Draco’s favorite teacher.

The Dark Lord spoke again and she quickly looked back at him. “I will allow you to visit Diagon Alley, but because I do not trust you I will not allow you to go alone. My Death Eaters now run the Ministry, so I am not concerned that you will attempt an escape. However, you are a prisoner at this point.”

“A-A prisoner, my Lord?” Aly whispered. She didn’t feel like she was a prisoner, though she knew that’s exactly what she was.

“You are not being locked away because I want to see what you are capable of, young one.” The Dark Lord answered her question and ran his cold fingers gently along her arm. “What I have seen in your mind impresses me. It is most difficult to impress me, Alyson. So, I am granting you certain freedoms and privileges. Leaving this house unaccompanied is not one of them.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Aly whispered again, though the false air of superiority she had been trained to use was clear in her tone of voice. Her new master smirked at her reaction and then removed his hand from her arm.

“Narcissa shall accompany you.” He added with a wave of his hand.

Mrs. Malfoy slammed her hands onto the table and stood, sending her chair skidding backwards. “Master! You cannot believe that my skills are best suited by babysitting this…this…” She looked at Aly with pure hatred as she attempted to find the words to describe her anger. “Traitor.”

“Narcissa!” The Dark Lord hissed at the woman’s outburst. “Sit down before I make you sit down.” Mrs. Malfoy huffed angrily, but returned to her seat. “Your family has done nothing but show me that you are unworthy of calling yourself Death Eaters. Lucius failed to obtain the prophecy and his incompetence resulted in his arrest. Then Draco, here, failed to murder Albus Dumbledore. Severus had to complete the task because Draco was unwilling to do so. Do not tell me you feel that babysitting is above your status, Narcissa.”

“I am sorry, my Lord.” Mrs. Malfoy said softly, looking down at the table.

Just then, a mousy looking man with a silver hand brought in the food. He looked familiar, though she could not remember his name. He placed a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of her and she looked to the others to see when they could begin eating. Her stomach was grumbling loudly and she was sure the others could hear her.

“Now, Severus.” The Dark Lord looked towards Aly’s Potions professor; she watched her professor place his knife and fork on the table and look up at his master. “You are aware that the Ministry of Magic has fallen.”

“Of course, my Lord.” Severus acknowledged. “I did not doubt you.”

“Thank you, Severus.” The Dark Lord placed his hands together in front of his plate of food. “As my first act, I would like to appoint you as Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” The professor said in his normally monotonous voice. Aly was surprised he did not show more emotion. Wasn’t this what he had been wanting for years? Well, he had been working hard for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, but Headmaster had to be so much better than any teaching position. “It would be my honor.”

“However, I would like to make some changes to its policies.” The Dark Lord continued without acknowledging Snape’s gratitude. “Attendance is to be mandatory for all pure- and half-bloods. Any muggle born students will be banned from the school premises.”

“Of course, my Lord.” Snape responded. “I will not allow the muggle borns to disgrace the halls of Hogwarts any longer. It is something that should have happened long ago.”

Aly wondered whether she would be held captive at Malfoy Manor or if she would be allowed to return to Hogwarts. She hoped to return to Hogwarts so that she could finish her final year. It would be nice to get away from watchful eye of the Dark Lord.

“There are a few open teaching positions, my Lord.” Snape pointed out. “Who among the Death Eaters would you like me to appoint?”

“Before we continue, I think Alyson and Narcissa are prepared for their trip into Diagon Alley.” The Dark Lord looked at Mrs. Malfoy spitefully. “I expect you to return promptly in three hours, is that understood?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Mrs. Malfoy nodded dejectedly. “Draco needs to pick up a few things, as well. May he join us?”

“Yes.” He responded nonchalantly and then returned to his conversation with Snape. Bellatrix interrupted a few times, but Aly wasn’t paying attention. All she noticed as she stood and followed Mrs. Malfoy out of the house so they could Apparate was the disgusted look on Draco’s face.

*~*~*~*

“NEVILLE ANTHONY LONGBOTTOM!” Her voice shrieked from downstairs, causing him to cringe involuntarily. “GET YOUR USELESS BEHIND DOWN THOSE STAIRS RIGHT NOW!”

“What did you do now?” Neville muttered under his breath, pushing himself off the floor where he had been looking through books, deciding on his next move.

He knew better than to keep his grandmother waiting, but he didn’t run down the stairs. His mind was racing as he tried to figure out what he had done to make his grandmother so angry. It didn’t surprise him, though, seeing as he was always disappointing her in one way or another.

Augusta Longbottom was always comparing him to his parents. They had been Aurors and heroes in their own right. They had given their sanity while fighting against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named the first time around. Neville had made his grandmother proud during his fight against the Death Eaters his fifth year at Hogwarts, but that was quickly forgotten.

“I SAID RIGHT NOW!” His grandmother yelled as his feet reached the bottom of the stairs. He quickened his pace and met his grandmother in the kitchen. She was filling a tea kettle for her afternoon beverage.

“What’s wrong grandma?” He asked innocently, though he was honestly curious as to what would make his grandmother this heated.

She walked over to him and smacked the back of his head. He rubbed the sore spot and looked at her suspiciously. “What was that for?”

“Why does Ginny Weasley think you are not going back to Hogwarts?” Augusta snapped, placing her hands on her hips in a similar fashion to Molly Weasley. Neville’s mind briefly digressed and he wondered if this was an acquired or natural trait of women and/or mothers.

He sighed in relief, though, when she asked the question. This meant that he hadn’t done anything wrong this time. He was an adult wizard and could decide whether or not to attend his final year at the wizarding school.

“Because I’m not, grandma.” He responded simply, as though the answer were obvious. He attempted to reach for the tea kettle that was starting to whistle, but she batted his hand away.

“Merlin’s pants you’re not.” Augusta scolded. “Why would you ever give up your last year?”

“You-Know-Who has taken over the Ministry, grandma.” Neville pointed out. “I can’t spend my time going to school when there are Death Eaters to fight. You don’t know how bad it’s going to be now that the Ministry has fallen.”

“My grandson is not going to be a drop out, Neville. Oh, what would the girls think?” She responded by stepping closer to him. By instinct, Neville stepped backwards. “I don’t know how difficult it’s going to be at school. You are finishing your seventh year.”

“Aren’t you the one always telling me to step up and be more like my parents?” Neville argued; his temper was rising rather quickly. She had no authority to force him to go back to school. “Aren’t you always telling me you wished I was braver, like my parents? Well, I am going to show you that I can do better than my parents!”

His grandmother sighed and lowered the teacup she had brought to her lips. She looked at him with deep rooted pity. He didn’t want her pity; he wanted her unconditional love. But he wasn’t going to get what he wanted, and neither would she.

“Neville.” She said softly, trying to soften his demeanor. “You have not thought this through. If you had, you would see that you need to remain at Hogwarts.”

“What do you mean, I haven’t thought this through?” Neville asked cautiously, not wanting to get trapped by his grandmother. “I have thought this through many times over. I have thought about this more than I have ever thought about anything. This is something I need to do not only for myself, but for the family.”

“What about your friends?” Augusta asked.

Neville was taken aback. What did his friends have to do with this? He really didn’t have too many friends. He wasn’t even sure he had any friends. Acquaintances were more like it. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been nice enough to him, but they weren’t coming back. If Harry showed up at school, he’d most certainly be killed on the spot. The only other people who were close to friends with him would be Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood. He and Ginny had gone to the Yule Ball, but they hadn’t had much more contact besides Dumbledore’s Army. Luna was always nicer to him than all the others; she was odd but in a good way.

“What about my friends?” Neville shot back.

“Are you going to leave your friends unprotected?” Augusta retorted softly, but with a disapproving tone.

“What do you mean, unprotected?” Neville asked more thoughtfully. “They will have Dumbledore’s Army to protect them.”

“And who will run Dumbledore’s Army?” She asked.

“Ginny will, of course.” Neville replied automatically.

“If it will be as bad as you predict, how could you abandon Ginny and Dumbledore’s Army?” His grandmother asked with pursed lips, as though she was deep in thought. “Won’t Ms. Weasley need as much help as she can get?”

Neville thought for a moment and then responded. “What can I offer that she won’t get from the others that are still going to be there?”

“Oh, Neville.” His grandmother walked closer to him and took his hand in hers. They were warm to the touch. “You misread me sometimes. I love you so much and am proud of what you have become. Your parents would be proud, too. But you need to go back to Hogwarts so that you can fight.”

“I can fight from here, too.” Neville responded, losing steam in his argument. His grandmother was right. How in the world could he abandon Ginny and Luna and Dumbledore’s Army. They were always there when he truly needed them. What if something happened to them while he was away? It would be his fault for not protecting the two girls.

“But you’ll have closer access to the Death Eaters at Hogwarts.” His grandmother pointed out and he became angry with himself for forgetting that Snape could be at Hogwarts. It was only logical assumption that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would send the murderer back to Hogwarts. “You know I’m right.”

“You are right, grandma.” Neville sighed in defeat. Augusta had found the hole in his logic, and he knew that he would be on the Hogwarts Express come September. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m not helping.

“Fred and George Weasley get to join the Order of the Phoenix and Harry, Ron, and Hermione are out there fighting somehow. I want to help.” Neville finished, begging his grandmother for some logic and reassurance.

“You will be helping.” His grandmother patted him on the hand reassuringly. “Just make sure you don’t make things easy on them.”

“Never.” Neville smiled and hugged his grandmother. It was a cheesy moment, but he knew that as much he may doubt himself, he did have the talent to fight back. He could and would make life very difficult for Snape and any other Death Eater that may be residing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now he had to reformulate his plans for destroying the Death Eaters from inside Hogwarts before September 1st.


Thank you guys for being so patient with me! I also appologize that there isn't a whole lot of action, but there is some explaining to do. I think there'll be a twist for some of you...or at least something you weren't expecting. I'm hoping to get another chapter written this weekend...we'll see! And as always, thanks to my great beta, ChannelingGinny!!

Chapter Seven: Diagon Alley

Draco scowled at his mother as he walked out of his dining room, trying not to let the Dark Lord see how upset he really was. Why would she do this to him? Why would she make him come along when she knew how much he hated Alyson Scrimgeour?

His mother came to a sudden halt and turned around, causing Draco to run into her. She stared at Aly and sneered condescendingly, “Do not try anything stupid, girl! You are to go straight to Diagon Alley.”

Draco was not surprised to see that Aly was not fazed by his mother’s tone. Aly stared back just as coolly and spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. “I don’t have my wand, Mrs. Malfoy.”

His mother sighed, nodded her head, and gestured toward Draco. “Draco, take her along, would you?”

He wanted to argue with her, but the look on his mother’s face told him otherwise. What surprised him, though, was that she was pushing him to touch Aly even though his mother knew what Aly had done to him. She had abandoned him and it had almost broken him. But instead of letting her absence destroy him, he turned his attention to destroying Harry Potter. The stupid fool was revered by the teachers, but at least he was able to make Potter’s life miserable even in the tiniest fraction.

His mother and father saw what Aly’s disappearance had done to him and he knew they resented her for breaking their son’s heart. It disgusted them to have to let Aly back into their home and let her wear their clothing and use their things.

But he did not hate Aly as much as he kept telling himself. He was glad she was back in his life and residing in his home so that he could keep a closer eye on her. He had allowed her to take all the credit when they were fourth years, and that had gotten her sent to Farnsworth in the United States.

She had to have been so angry with him when he let her father take her away, but that didn’t excuse the fact that she never responded to his letters. But all that anger he felt melted away when he looked into her blazing green eyes; she didn’t have the innocence she once did, but he could see a yearning, a desire, that matched his own.

“Don’t touch me.” He hissed and threw his hand backwards when she tried to reach for his hand. “You lost the right to touch me, Aly. Grab onto my robes,” he demanded.

“Whatever.” Aly shot back as she rolled her eyes and grabbed onto a chunk of his robes.

He pulled out his wand from the pocket of his robes, closed his eyes, and attempted to focus on getting them to Diagon Alley. This was the first time he had taken someone on side-along Apparition and he didn’t want to splinch himself.

Splinching Aly wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, though. She could live without a finger or toe for awhile. He smiled to himself at the image and let his mind picture Diagon Alley.

Almost immediately, he felt the familiar tug at his naval, but the only thing he noticed was the hand clutching his robes.

“I need to visit Borgin and Burkes.” His mother’s voice woke him from his moment of ecstasy. “Can you handle her?”

“Of course, mother.” He responded coolly, refusing to look at Aly while his shoulder still tingled from her touch. “What kind of trouble could she get into?”

“I’m standing right here, Malfoy.” Aly retorted as she stormed towards Gringotts. “So don’t act like I can’t hear you.”

“What are you going to do about it, Scrimgeour?” Draco retorted, following quickly behind Alyson. It would be terrible if she escaped or got into trouble on his watch. The Dark Lord would not forgive either of them for her mischief.

Even though he was rushing to keep pace with Aly, he couldn’t help but notice Diagon Alley appeared abandoned. Few shops were even open and no one was on the street. It seemed like people were afraid to leave their homes because the Dark Lord was now in power, and Draco couldn’t blame them. He was pleased to be on the side that had the power, but he was realistic to know he was not untouchable.

And neither was Aly.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Draco.” Aly whispered as they entered the bank. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Draco laughed. “I’m doing this because I have to, not because I want to.”

“Miss Scrimgeour, Mr. Malfoy.” The goblin acknowledged their presence and Draco couldn’t help but compare the creature’s hideous looks to Potter’s. This caused him to let out a chuckle the goblin conveniently ignored. “How may I help you?”

“I need to get into my vault.” Aly said with the entitlement of a princess. She always felt she deserved the life she was born into, and Draco admired this about her.

“Key, please.” The goblin extended his hand.

“I don’t have my key.” Aly explained with a pout that had gotten her a lot less than entrance into her vault at Gringotts. “Unfortunately, it was in my belongings when my father was murdered last night.”

“Do you have your wand, Ms. Scrimgeour?” The goblin asked.

“Why would you want my wand?” Aly asked, though Draco could tell she was losing her patience. People, goblins included, didn’t say no to her.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Scrimgeour.” The goblin apologized. “But after what happened last night, we are requiring verification of identities before we allow individuals into their vaults. It’s just a security precaution, you understand.”

“No, I do not understand.” Aly spoke slowly as though the goblin would not be able to comprehend otherwise. “I am Alyson Scrimgeour and you would do best to understand that. Let me into my vault immediately and I will forgive your indiscretion.”

“I am sorry, Ms. Scrimgeour, but I cannot help you without your key or your wand.” The goblin responded calmly.

Draco was amused and turned to Aly. “It’s just like you to need my help once again.”

“Shut up, Draco.” She snapped, clearly agitated at the denial she had received from the incompetent goblin. “I do not need your help.”

“You have always needed my help.” He continued with a laugh. “If I had been around, you wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

“What mess, Draco?” She turned to him and he saw the pure fury in her eyes for the first time. “A dead father? Being trapped in my mind and unable to escape? Stuck in the house of someone who abandoned me? What mess are you talking about, Draco?”

Wait! What? He thought. The easy way to redirect her would be to acknowledge her final statement. He had not abandoned her and he would not let her turn the tables on him. Instead, he went for the confrontation that had been boiling since he first laid eyes on her the day before.

“All of it.” Draco snapped back. “I never would have let anyone kill my father.”

“Back off, Draco.” She said, breathing heavily. She was balling her hands into fists so hard that her knuckles were white. “I’m warning you now.”

“Or what?” He laughed, though he wasn’t amused any more. His emotions were so conflicting that he couldn’t understand exactly how he felt about her. One minute he hated her, the next he loved her and didn’t want anything to happen to her. Now all he wanted to do was push her farther and farther toward the edge. “You don’t have your wand and if you try anything stupid, the Dark Lord is going to kill you. You have no power to do anything.”

“Like you do?” Aly snorted. “I’ve seen how the Dark Lord regards your family, and it definitely isn’t flattering!”

“At least I haven’t cried over my situation.” Draco retorted. “Yeah, I saw you last night. You have definitely changed since fourth year, Aly. You were never that weak.”

It all seemed to happen in slow motion before he could react. He saw Aly’s arm swing back and then shoot forward, making contact with his left eye. He fell backwards and let out a surprised cry of pain. No one had hit him since third year when Granger had gotten close enough to do so.

“You don’t know anything about me anymore, Malfoy.” Aly spat, as she grabbed his wand and aimed it at the goblin. “I am here on orders of the Dark Lord. If you do not let me into my vault, I will kill each goblin, and Draco, in this bank. Is that understood?”

“Of course, Ms. Scrimgeour.” The goblin nodded, though he didn’t appear fearful. Draco watched as Aly followed the goblin to her vault.

He stood and dusted off his robes, turning to a couple goblins that were watching him. “What are you looking at?” He demanded, trying to regain some of his pride. He couldn’t believe Aly had hit him!

After about ten minutes in her vault, Aly came back, looking calmer but equally determined. She stared him down as she walked closer and then tossed his wand in his direction. He caught it with one hand.

“Do not mess with me, Draco.” Aly said nonchalantly, as though nothing had happened between them just moments before. “This is your only warning.”

He didn’t say anything as Aly walked out of the bank and towards Madame Malkin’s. His ego was bruised but not destroyed. He would not allow this spoiled ingrate to humiliate him anymore, especially in front of the Dark Lord or other Death Eaters.

Draco hurried so he could walk beside her to the shop.

*~*~*~*

Wow! She could barely breathe, but knew she had to keep her emotions in check. She couldn’t let Draco see how rattled she was. Aly couldn’t believe she actually hit Draco!

Well, he deserved it. Aly told herself. He was being conceited and pushed her past her control. She could not allow him to speak to her like that. As dire the situation appeared, she was not powerless. As long as she had her physical strength, she would have choices and options.

“The old bat’s closed.” Draco muttered when they finally reached the store. “It just figures she would hide away when times get rough.”

“It’s alright. We can go somewhere else.” Aly reasoned.

“No, we can’t.” Draco responded as though she were an idiot. “We need to stay in Diagon Alley.”

“Don’t speak to me like that, Draco.” Aly reprimanded; she would not allow him to treat her like an inferior. “I am not a child.”

“I would beg to differ.” Draco smirked confidently, but backed off when she glared at him. “I’m just saying that the Dark Lord would not appreciate it if we went somewhere else without his permission.”

“Well, I need clothing.” Aly said. “I can’t continue to wear your mother’s robes. I think she’s going to burn the ones she already lent me.”

Draco laughed aloud. “I think she might, but I have a solution.” He flicked his wand nonchalantly and Aly watched as a silver light flickered out of his wand and fizzled.

His cheeks flushed as his charm failed. He tried again, with the same effect. Aly felt sorry for him because she knew his ego was already bruised, like his eye. But she couldn’t let him continue this all day, either.

“Let me.” Aly offered gently, reaching for Draco’s wand.

“I can do it!” He hissed angrily and attempted again, but Aly knew he was not yet capable of conjuring a Patronus. He should have the skills, his parents or Bellatrix should have taken the time to teach him, but he did not.

Aly, however, was able to produce a Patronus. It was one of the spells she taught herself to conjure while at Farnsworth. They didn’t allow students to have wands outside of classrooms, but there were always ways around that rule.

“Clearly, you can’t.” Aly snapped at him after a fifth failed attempt and reached out her hand again. “We don’t have all day, Draco. It’s fine that you can’t conjure a Patronus—most people don’t learn until they are forced to—most people don’t even need to learn it.”

“Fine.” He responded, defeated, thrust the wand into her hand, and walked away. Aly sent her Patronus to Madame Malkin using her most threatening tone, knowing she could get the witch there sooner if the witch’s life was threatened.

Aly was right. Within seconds, Madame Malkin appeared. Her skin was ashen and she shook something terrible.

Draco returned and Aly gave him his wand back. He said nothing and refused to look at her. She couldn’t help but think that he deserved to get knocked down a peg or two.

“Thank you for coming so quickly.” Aly said sweetly, attempting to make up for the threat she had just given the shopkeeper. “I just need a few things and I will be out of your hair.”

“I do not appreciate threats, my dear.” Madame Malkin responded, pointing a finger in her face. “What do you need?”

“A few sets of casual robes, one dress robe, and a few Slytherin robes.” She added the final request in the hopes that she would be allowed to return to Hogwarts on September 1.

“Don’t hold your breath.” Draco muttered and Aly glared at him. “You think the Dark Lord is going to let you leave his sight?”

“He just did, didn’t he?” Aly replied coolly and shrugged. “Besides, who is going to keep an eye on you and keep you out of trouble?”

“Definitely not you, that’s for sure.” Draco responded by rolling his eyes.

“Oh, stop your bickering.” Madame Malkin said exasperatedly. “Or I will ask you to leave, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Everyone gives you whatever you want.” Draco muttered under his breath when Madame Malkin went into the back room to get some supplies.

“You’re one to talk, Malfoy.” Aly retorted. Their current conversation seemed reminiscent of their old relationship. “You’ve always been ‘mommy’s baby boy.’ She gives you whatever you want if you pout a little first.”

“What about you? Your father bought you whatever you asked for, and you didn’t even need to beg for it.” He smiled knowingly at her and it was the first time she saw the Draco she had once known.

But his comment also reminded her of what she had lost. “That was before that day in the field and he shipped me off to Farnsworth, almost completely cutting me off from him and civilization.”

He seemed to realize what she said and went quiet. He looked away just as Madame Malkin returned to fit her for the robes she had requested. Aly was hopeful, though, that their relationship would return to what it had once been. Even though she was extremely angry with Draco, she still missed her best friend.


I apologize so much for the wait! I think I have a new routine and will be updating more regularly. Thanks once again to my beta ChannelingGinny!