FicWad

The first Hogsmeade trip of the school year seemed to be the busiest Ginny had ever seen. Almost every eligible student had managed to make the trip, turning the usually quiet wizarding village into a crowded sea of cloaked students. The popular hangouts, such as Madam Puddifoots and the Three Broomsticks were filled to capacity, even the not-so-clean Hog's Head gave way to some of the sixth and seventh year students. To those with money to spend, there was Honeydukes sweet shop, or for the more adventurous and troublesome student, Zonko's Joke Shop. But it was none of these stores that held the female Weasley's attention this cold October afternoon.

She stood outside Gladrags Wizardwear, peering through the window. Known mostly for its unorthodox clothing and slightly strange samples of wizarding fashion, she was surprised to find a display in the window, showing off a brand new evening gown, hand made by a designer whose name she did not recognize.

It was made of the finest silks, designed to be light and airy, glistening with specks of coral beads, dusted over a scintillating corset. The skirts flared out, in three different layers, the outer layer a whisp of sheer cloth, overtop a satin curtain of pale aqua. Even the petticoats, skirting the floor, were light in nature. The dress would look stunning in any store window, but this was a wizard shop, so the dress, as if being worn by an invisible customer, twirled, twisted, and danced in the window, showing off the range and beauty of the garment.

She gazed at it, her mind dreaming of walking into the Great Hall, wearing that very gown. Every voice falling silent, every pair of eyes turned to look upon her as she made the grandest entrance Hogwarts had ever seen. Never, even on 6 months of salary, could her family ever afford such a dress, but that didnt do anything to tarnish the image in her mind. But there was one thing that was able to snap her thoughts back to reality.

"Getting a look at high society, Weasley?"

Standing behind her and flanked by his two dim-witted and ape-like cronies Crabbe and Goyle, stood the seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, and general thorn in the side of Griffyndor House, if not all of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy. His short white hair, and steely eyes reflected back at her from the window of the clothing shop. She turned to face him, having nothing but contempt for him.

"Forget about it. Your family can't even afford to get you new books. There is no way they could ever afford something like that." Draco sneered.

Ginny glared back at him, finding his sense of humor anything but humorous. Most of it consisted of insults and sarcastic remarks directed toward those less fortunate than himself, rubbing in the actions of his father, or even taking to smearing the name of a good deal of her friends.

Seeing the anger in her eyes, Draco fed upon it, like a vulture pecking at a corpse. "What's the matter, Weasley? The truth not to your liking? When are you going to wake up and realize that you will never be anything more than a sewer rat?"

"The only rat around here is you, Malfoy. And these two..." she nods towards Crabbe and Goyle, "barely qualify as fleas."

The two larger Slytherin, not at all pleased at being insulted, move to step around Draco, but he stops them, raising his hand to keep them in place. He narrows his eyes, peering at her through thin slits, adding a slightly intimidating edge to his expression.

"Say whatever you want, Weasley. One day, you and the rest of your pathetic family are going to put in their place. Those who associate with mudbloods and muggles are going to be tossed aside, while the rest of us take our rightful place in the world."

Setting her teeth together, Ginny felt her anger beginning to boil under her skin. She was so sick of Draco's arrogance, of his prejudice. She was sick of his hatred for Harry, for the defense of his father and the other Death Eaters. She was sick of Draco.

Deciding discretion to be the better part of valor, she turned from the three, and headed up along Main Street, hoping to burn off some of the steam that surrounded her. Draco and the others, calling out a few final insults, moved in the opposite direction, stepping through the door of the Hog's Head inn.

Only two tables were occupied, and a few stools at the bar. The table was surrounded by a handful of Ravenclaws, the bar by a couple of stragglers. Draco surveyed the room, trying to find a suitable place to sit. "Over there, Draco. In the corner?" Crabbe suggested, pointing to an empty table that looked like it hadn't seen a wash rag in some time. With no other options, the blonde-haired boy led them to it, turning a chair around, sitting backwards on it, while waiting for his cronies to join him.

"Barkeep! Some butterbeers!" Draco shouted to the bartender, who responded with a cold glare. Carrying over three chilled bottles, he slammed them down, some of their contents spilling outside and onto the table. "Well, so much for service."

The bartender scowled, wiping his hands on a soiled rag hanging from his belt. "If you don't like it, you are welcome to leave."

Saying nothing, Draco picked up one of the bottles, and took a drink from it. The liquid slid down his throat, leaving behind a slight hint of butterscotch. It was a curious experience, but one of the more popular drinks amongst the students of Hogwarts. To Draco, however, the experience was overrated.

"Rubbish." he slid the bottle towards the center of the table, bearing a look of disgust.

"What's eating you, Draco?" Goyle asked, enjoying his own bottle well enough. "You've gotten a little irritated the past few minutes. The drink can't be that bad."

Folding his arms across his chest, Malfoy rested them on the top of his chair, frowning slightly. "Nothing you need to be concerned about, Goyle."

The two followers exchanged glances, but shrugged, leaving the third Slytherin to stew in his thoughts. But he would not stew long, before a shadow fell across the table between the three, cast by the arrival of a large, well built figure.

The figure was obscured by a long, full body cloak, reaching the floor of the inn, with sleeves that were so long, only fingers were visible from beneath the cuffs. The face was washed in shadow, as a hood was pulled low on the stranger's head, barely a glimpse of skin visible, and what was visible appeared slightly scarred.

"Draco...Malfoy?" the strange inquired, in a voice that was easily male, with just a bit of a wheeze.

The three students looked up curiously "What if I am?" Malfoy asked, looking annoyed, and yet curious at the same time.

"You are the son of Lucius Malfoy, are you not?"

"Who wants to know?"

The stranger shook his head "Oh, my name is not important. But your reputation precedes you, young Malfoy. I was told I might find you here, and I was to deliver this to you."

Reaching into a pocket, the stranger withdrew a small scroll of parchment, bound with a black ribbon, and sealed with a wax mark, bearing the Malfoy family crest. Draco took the parchment and raised an eyebrow.

"Who is it from? What's this all about?" asked the young Malfoy.

"I know not. Only that I was sent to deliver it. And now that my task is complete, I bid you good day." The stranger turned, walking towards the door, leaving the three with puzzled expressions.

"Well, go on. Open it." Crabbe encouraged, his curiosity almost surpassing Draco.

Removing the ribbon from around the parchment, he opened the seal, unscrolling the paper. Laying it on the table, he read the short message that was scrolled within. "Draco...something important has happened, and its not safe to send an owl. Meet me by the Shrieking Shack, and come alone. Narcissa Malfoy."

"Your mother? But why would she want to meet you at the Shrieking Shack?" Goyle asked.

"I don't know. But it must have something to do with my father, and she doesnt want to run the risk of anyone from Hogwarts seeing her. She knew I'd be in Hogsmeade today." Draco rolled up the parchment, tucking it into his robes, before standing up.

Crabbe and Goyle rose to their feet, preparing to join him, as usual. He stopped, looking from one, to the other "Where do you think you two are going?"

"We're going with you." Crabbe replied, as if it were obvious.

"Are you deaf and stupid? It said for me to come alone. Stay here until I get back."

Leaving them behind, he stepped around the table, and stepped out of the inn. The Shrieking Shack was perched atop a hill overlooking the village. Many people had speculated what the shack was for, as it even garnered a reputation for being haunted.

Trudging through the snow as he climbed the hill, Draco noticed the shack still appeared as it always had. Old, decayed, and boarded up to prevent unwanted admittance. As he drew nearer, he noticed a set of footprints heading towards the shack ahead of him. He couldn't see anyone standing outside, but he followed them, as they circled around the shack towards the back side of it.

It happened so suddenly, Draco couldn't even cry out. As he stepped around the side of the shack, the air popped, once, twice, a third time. He was surrounded by a trio of men, including the mysterious messenger who had been in the Hogs Head only moments before. Each of them wore a similar sneer on their faces, and each of them held a wand in their hands, pointed right at him.

"I told you he'd fall for it." the messenger smirked to his companions. "How could he resist?"

"If only his father was that gullible."

Draco looked at the three, wanting to run from them, not sure what it was they wanted, but he was certain it was him. His face flushed, feeling shame at being foolish, and fear at being at the mercy of these three men.

"What do you want?" He asked, trying to sound defiant.

"Want? What we want, young Malfoy, is to pay back your father, and all the other Death Eaters! They have caused suffering, pain, and anguish, and fear no reprisal." Replied one of the other men, a shorter, stockier man with balding hair and grey eyes that seemed to contain a lifetime of sorrow and anger.

"What my father does has nothing to do with me!" Draco retorted.

"Ah, but it does, dear Malfoy. You see, the followers of the Dark Lord have taken the lives of our families, decimated what we held dear. And so, we are going to take what they hold dear." the third man added. Taller than the first, he looked to be the oldest of the three. His face was streaked with lifelines and scars, his left eye hidden behind an eyepatch. "You are going to be our message to the followers of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named!"

Draco's mind raced, trying to find some way out of this. He couldn't believe this was happening. He had always envisioned following in his father's footsteps, but never did he consider the consequences of doing so. He could only think up one response.

"If you harm me, they'll send you to Azkaban! Or worse! My father will never let you get away with this." It was the desperate plea, of a desperate boy. Unfortunately for him, these were desperate men.

"Azkaban will be a small price to pay. We have nothing left to live for." The messenger shook his head slightly. "Farewell, Child of Malfoy." As the three men swirled their wands in unison, Draco shut his eyes. The word that rang in his ear, certain to be the last he would ever hear, was the first of an Unforgivable Curse. "Avada..."

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

Draco froze, waiting a second before opening one eye, and then the other. All three men were frozen, wands raised, mouths locked open. At first, he thought maybe he was merely experiencing the last moment of his life. But then he heard another voice, calling to him.

"Draco, run!"

Ginny Weasley stood at the corner of the shack, holding her wand in front of her. Without another second thought, Draco ducked under the arms of the three attackers, running to stand beside her, pulling out his own wand.

"You?! You saved my life?" There was no possible way he could conceal the shock in his voice.

Ginny frowned, keeping her eyes on the three, not sure how long her spell would hold. "Don't bother thanking me. Just run. Back to the school, before this spell wears off!"

He didn't need any further encouragement, dashing back towards the village as fast as his feet would take him through the snow. It took him about 15 minutes to travel the distance between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, but it was long enough for him to realize that he was now owing a life debt.

"A life debt...to a Weasley!" he fumed, once inside the safety of Hogwarts's front foyer. "It seems there is a fate worse than death!"