A/N: Hey. I used to be StrawberryBonBon, forbiddenlight, the works. Lol. This is my latest story. I love it so far and hope you will too. I've been writing it for a few weeks now and hope to update weekly. Of course, your review will be appreciated and will give me ideas and speed up the whole writing process. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own. Really. I know, what a surprise.



The sheet of parchment lay achingly blank on the desk, practically taunting Ginevra Weasley into insanity. The quill was in her hand- poised, above the parchment, dripping ink onto the papery surface. Her breath caught in her chest and Ginny sat the quill into the inkbottle and laid back in her chair.

The perfect story. It was a dream of hers; the prize-winning, amazing, life-changing article that would not only give her an actual office rather than a stuffy cubicle but would also give her enough gold to move out of her run down flat. But that was all it was- a dream, a measly, unreal dream.

"Get out of fairy-tale land, Weasley," came a rough voice from above Ginny's head. Ginny opened her eyes and gazed up at the face of Dennis Rockwell, her least favorite, stuffy, practically-perfect colleague. "The evening paper is due in an hour and Davison is having a heart attack because we don't have a lead story. Work a miracle and work it fast." What struck Ginny most about Rockwell's boring monotone voice was the fact that it hardly sounded pushy. As though he was daring her to fail.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Rockwell," she murmured, standing up and stretching. She shoved the parchment, quill, and inkbottle in her bag and tossed it over her shoulder. She was two feet away from the door when Rockwell shouted at her.

"Where do you think you're going, Princess!" he called, adjusting his coal-hued wig. Ginny eyed him venomously. "I'm going downtown," she snarled. "And next time you mess with your toupee, try to do it indiscreetly."

Rockwell turned scarlet and Ginny marched out the door, praying that her boss didn't witness the argument.

Once outside, Ginny made her way down London. It was a beautiful day in late March, that time just between winter and spring, where it's not too cold for a t-shirt, but cold enough to drink hot cocoa and feel cozy without overheating. And thus Ginevra Weasley walked into a muggle coffee shop- Jack's Beans- and sat in line to order one of those warm chocolate drinks.

She was just wrapping a single hand around the insulated coffee cup when a scream echoed from the street. Ginny dropped the hot chocolate regretfully on the counter and jammed her hand into her robes, her fingers encircling the eight inch long yew wand as she rushed out the shop, milling through a thickening mob, her copper hair catching the light of the sun as she ran.

Someone screamed again. Ginny broke through the last throng of the crowd and witnessed a scene that made her want to puke. As many as forty Death Eaters stood in the square, each levitating an extremely frightened muggle into the air with their wands. A man in blood-red robes stood front and center, his silver eyes glinting in the sunlight as his almost white-blonde hair fell into his face.

And he snapped his fingers.

And every levitating muggle was killed by an excruciating and gory decapitation curse, recently discovered by a Mr. Draco Malfoy.

Ginny's stomach leapt in her chest as she struggled not to vomit. All around her muggles were screaming and running, trying desperately to get away from the masked parade. Ginny attempted to shrink back in the crowd, praying Malfoy wouldn't recognize her...

Someone running by with a baby on her arm caught Ginny's bag, which fell to the floor, dropping all of its contents. Ginny knelt on the ground, hoping no one would trample her as she collected her belongings with haste.

She went to reach for a broken inkbottle as a shadow fell over her body. Ginny gulped.

"Hello, Weasley," greeted Malfoy with, although Ginny couldn't see him, a smirk. He said her name as though it was degrading for him to say it. As though it reminded him of a disgustingly painful moment in his life. Ginny shut her eyes, stood, opened them, and faced him.

"Good afternoon, Malfoy," she replied harmoniously, as though they weren't standing in the middle of a busy, livid square, surrounded by forty masked men carrying wands and the heads of deceased muggles of whom they killed. Her voice wavered slightly as blood dripped onto the street.

"You don't seem too fazed about..." his voice drifted off as his eyes slowly meandered over to the headless body of a young woman. Inside, Ginny was screaming. But her voice and face were iron. "Nothing fazes me about you," she spat, taking a step back away from him.

"Hey, hey, hey," Draco laughed, grabbing Ginny's shoulder with a gloved hand and pulling her back. "I won't hurt you, right, Goyle?" The Death Eater nearest was holding the head of a child. Tears smarted in Ginny's eyes as he laughed along with Malfoy, although his express amusement was composed of mostly grunts and snorts.

"Get off me!" Ginny yelled as a shrill sound filled the air. Ginny closed her eyes as the metallic scent of blood enveloped her. Malfoy recognized the sirens of the police cars and smiled as handfuls of aurors drifted into the square.

Malfoy's hand was still on Ginny's shoulder when he snapped his fingers for a second time.

And suddenly it all went black.


Draco rolled his eyes in the dim light. "Do you always complain like this when you're kidnapped?" he asked stoutly, avoiding her gaze.

"Couldn't tell you," She replied, standing. "I've never been kidnapped before."

Thank you for reading and please review. :)