A/N: Unfortunately, I do not own Draco Malfoy or any person, place or thing in the Harry Potter Universe. I used to be a Draco/Hermione shipper, but my friend got me into Draco/Ginny, and now I'm hooked. The whole story is written but I'm going to edit each chapter one more time before I put it up so the chapters should come up relatively quickly. Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter One:

Making Ends Meet

Molly Weasley sniffled quietly and wiped her eyes with her apron. She bent over the simple open stove, using her wand to absentmindedly stir the pot of soup above the blue flame. Her eyes were sad and glassy as she stared out into the backyard. A backyard that had once been full of life and laughter. What had happened to that carefree lifestyle? Well, it had never been carefree. But it had certainly been easier than this.

Unconsciously, Molly's eyes darted across the room to a clock hanging on the wall. Seven of the nine hands were pointing to mortal peril. All of her boys were off on the front lines of the war against Voldemort. They were positioned in different places all over England. Some of them were spies. Some of them were with the Aurors, who desperately needed help at this time. Harry Potter was with them. The only person Molly had left in the world was her daughter, Ginny.

Ginny ate little and spoke even less. She was utterly distraught at the loss of her brothers, her father, and her best friend. Even at the present moment, she was most likely to be found sitting on her bed, looking through a box of photographs that she kept hidden in her closet. She would most likely be found with tears streaming down her cheeks as she clutched a picture of her family plus Harry to her chest. Molly knew it was dreadfully unhealthy for Ginny to carry on in such a way, but she knew that if she herself didn't have to be strong for the both of them, she would be doing the same thing.

"Ginny, dear? Dinner is almost ready!" Molly called up the stairs. She did not wait for a response. She knew that Ginny wouldn't answer even if she had heard. Sure enough, a few moments later, footsteps were heard tromping down the stairs. Ginny's face, though it had always been pale, was lifeless and ghostly. Her eyes appeared to have sunken into her face. They too were comatose, having lost their usual sparkle of merriment. Her gray Quidditch t-shirt hung limply from her sickeningly thin figure and her black sweatpants billowed around her skinny legs.

"Eat up, dear. You need to keep yourself well nourished," Molly said softly, placing a bowl of soup in front of her daughter. Ginny looked at it with distaste, but picked up her spoon and began to eat. Molly sat across from her and ate her own soup in silence.

"Daddy sent me a letter today. He says everyone is fine," Molly finally said, conversationally. Ginny nodded, her eyes glistening suddenly. Molly frowned, trying to think of something that would cheer her up. "I cleaned your broomstick this afternoon. You could take it out for a while after dinner if you want."

Silence.

"I think the fresh air would be good for you," Molly pressed.

More silence.

"Ginny, please," she pleaded. Ginny looked up at her mother. She wasn't used to hearing a strong person like her mother pleading with someone so desperately. She felt that she could do nothing but agree to her mother's wishes.

"All right, Mum," Ginny answered quietly.

"Thank you, dear." Ginny nodded and finished her soup in silence. She brought her bowl to the sink and alerted the enchanted sponge that it had work to do. Then she went to the broom closet and retrieved her old Cleansweep 7, which, she had to admit, did look nicer than she remembered it. She stepped outside and the brisk October air met her with an unforgiving chill. Ginny turned to head back inside, but saw her mother sitting at the table with her head in her hands. Feeling a stab of guilt, she decided that it was her duty to obey her mother's wishes.

Braving the cold, Ginny put one leg over the broom and half-heartedly urged the Cleansweep forward. The wind burned her eyes, giving her an excuse for the tears streaming down her cheeks. She circled around the Burrow, allowing her mind to lapse deeply into and out of thought.

She thought about everything. About how Hogwarts had closed when she was about to begin her seventh year. About how all of her brothers had enthusiastically accepted the Ministry's request to participate in the war, despite her pleas. About how Harry had kissed her incase he never got the opportunity to again. There was so much weighing on her thoughts, she was surprised that the broom could even support her. But it did. And it took her away from the stifling depression that her room offered.

Ginny didn't know how long she had been in the air, but when the numbing cold and turned to a stinging cold, she realized that it was beginning to get dark. All witches and wizards were advised to not be outside after dark in a time of war. Ginny returned to the ground and walked in the back door. Her mother was in the same position she had been in when she had left.

"Mum?" Ginny inquired softly. Molly's head snapped up, and she quickly brushed the tears from her reddened eyes.

"Oh! Ginny, darling, you scared me!"

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right, dear. It's all right. How was your flight?"

"Good. Thanks for cleaning it up," Ginny murmured, putting her broom back in the closet. Molly nodded and waved her hand dismissively.

"I have nothing else to do around here," she replied. Ginny hesitated for a moment. She didn't know how to comfort her mother. Ever since she was born, Ginny was always the one being comforted. She had never seen a weak moment in her mother, and now that she did, she wasn't sure what she should be doing.

"I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow. Do you need anything?" Molly asked. Ginny shook her head. Molly sighed and nodded. "All right. I'll probably be gone already when you wake up tomorrow."

"Good night, Mum," Ginny said, walking over to give her mother a hug. Molly got to her feet and embraced her only daughter. She held on tightly, not wanting to let her go, for fear of something happening to her. Ginny felt the tears coming to her eyes, and even though she tried to stem them, they broke free anyway.

"I love you, Ginevra Weasley," Molly whispered. Ginny buried her face in her mother's sweater.

"I love you too, Mum." Before her mother could see how upset she was, Ginny broke away from her mother's embrace and hurried up the stairs. Once she got to the first landing, she placed a hand on the wall for support. Sobs wracked her body, and she slowly slid until she crumpled into a heap on the floor. Downstairs in the kitchen, Molly was doing the same thing.

---

Ginny woke up due to a draft coming in through her broken window. It wouldn't shut all the way, allowing the early morning breeze to filter through. She shivered and pulled the covers up around her. She found that she could see her breath when she exhaled. Sighing, Ginny forced herself out of bed to retrieve her slippers.

Yawning somnolently, she plodded down the stairs to find an empty kitchen. Vaguely she remembered the previous evening when her mother had told her that she was going grocery shopping. As Ginny sat down at the kitchen table with a bowl of oatmeal, she picked up yesterday's Daily Prophet. The front cover sported a picture of frenzied ministry officials as it usually did. She scanned it disinterestedly, making sure that there was nothing important that she should be informed of. Suddenly, a muffled twittering sound interrupted the silence. Ginny looked up.

"Hey, Pig. What do you have for us today?" Ginny asked the tiny ball of feathers as it burst into the room and flew around excitedly. Ginny managed to calm him down enough to seize the letters and newspaper he was carrying before pushing him out the window. She sat down again and fished through the mail to see if anything important had arrived.

Secretly, she was hoping to find a letter addressed to her from Harry. But she didn't know why she kept her hopes up. Harry was probably in hiding. Why would he risk revealing his position just to owl her about his health? He wouldn't, Ginny decided.

An official looking black envelope caught Ginny's eye. It was addressed to the Weasley residence, and it was written in typographic silver ink. Ginny looked at it with puzzlement. She wondered if she should wait for her mother to get home before opening it. Then she shrugged. It does say to the Weasley residence. I'm a resident of the Weasley residence, aren't I? She pushed a finger under the seal and broke it open. She pulled out the professional typewritten letter and read with curiosity.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,

My name is Gloria Reed. I am the head of the Department of Currency Collection in association with the Ministry of Magic and Gringotts Bank. I cannot fail to notice that your tax payments have not been covered for the past six months. Letters such as this have been sent in the past to ensure that you are aware of your financial situation.

Unfortunately, this is the last warning you will receive. If the sum total of five thousand Galleons is not submitted to Gringotts Bank by the end of October, the Department of Currency Collection has no choice but to evict you from your current housing location. I am very sorry for this inconvenience.

Sincerely,

Gloria Reed

Head of the Department of Currency Collection

Ginny stared at the letter in her hands waiting for the meaning of it to sink in. She had always known that they were having trouble making ends meet with all of the bacon-bringers out of the house, but she had never known that their situation was so dire. Ginny was suddenly immersed in guilt. While she sat around all day in her room, sulking and crying, her mother was trying desperately to handle finances. As if on cue, the front door opened and Molly burst through, carrying two bags of groceries.

"Let me help you, Mum," Ginny exclaimed, dropping the letter on the table and taking one of the bags from her mother.

"Thank you, dear. I only have two bags. The budget is a little low this month," Molly replied, looking down at the floor. Ginny swallowed hard. She hated to give her mother the bad news, but she knew that hiding it from her would be just as bad.

"Mum, we got a letter this morning."

"From who? Daddy?"

"No. Gloria Reed," Ginny corrected softly. Molly's eyes seemed to pool with shame.

"How bad was it?" She asked, trying to sound casual.

"They're going to evict us if we don't have five thousand Galleons by the end of October." Molly put a hand to her forehead and sank into a chair. Ginny remained silent. She watched as her mother's shoulders began to shake with sobs.

"Oh, Mum," Ginny whispered, reaching out to hug her mother. Molly welcomed her daughter into her arms and embraced her tightly. Ginny didn't know what to say as her mother cried onto her shoulder. She felt so helpless. Her mind began to race as she thought of things to do that would earn them money.

"We'll figure something out, Mum. Don't worry. I-I'll sell my Cleansweep. That'll fetch ten Galleons at least since you fixed it up."

"Don't sell your broom, Ginny," Molly protested.

"It's all right, Mum. I don't need it. I'm sure Ron wouldn't mind if we sold some of his Chudley Cannons merchandise, especially if it was to save the house. And maybe, Harry would donate some of his things. There are plenty of people out there who would pay one thousand Galleons just for his autograph."

"I don't know, Ginny. I wouldn't want to get rid of their things without them knowing."

"Send them owls. In the mean time...I'll get a job," Ginny decided.

"A job?"

"Yeah. There must be something I could do."

"I don't want you involved in this war too, Ginny!"

"I promise I won't get involved in the war. I-I could be a maid."

"Ginny, you can barely keep your room tidy." Ginny couldn't help smiling.

"I know, Mum, but when you ask me to clean the house, don't I do a good job?"

"Well..."

"Please, Mum. Let me help."

"All right. Let's go out and get jobs. I'll get one too."

"Good. We're going to make it through this, Mum. I promise," Ginny murmured, hugging her mother tightly.

---

"Look, I can't pay you now, but when I get a job, I'll be able to!" Ginny exclaimed furiously. The newspaper editor was looking at her with contempt. She was trying to place an ad in the newspaper, advertising herself as a maid looking for work. She was unable to pay for the ad space, but she wasn't going to let that stop her.

"How am I supposed to know that you'll actually get a job?" The man asked thickly. His breath smelled of whiskey and cigarettes. Ginny felt like throwing up.

"Because I will, if you advertise me in your paper! Please!"

"No money, no deal," the editor snapped. Ginny glared at the man with such ferocity, his eyes clouded with fear. She turned on her heel and sped out of the office. She was supposed to meet her mother in the Leaky Cauldron in five minutes. Glancing to her right, she noticed an alleyway that Fred and George always used as a short cut. Without thinking twice, she detoured and walked down the alley. She walked swiftly, not wanting to worry her mother. As she was just about to merge back into the busy streets of Diagon Alley, she slammed right into someone.

"Ouch! Watch where you're-" She began, but trailed off when she saw who she had bumped into. Lucius Malfoy was staring down at her with cold steel eyes. Ginny felt suddenly frightened, but she tried not to let it show.

"Well, well, well. Ginny Weasley. What are you doing in a dark alley way?" Lucius drawled. He noted the ad in her hand and snatched it from her. "A maid? I think I could use a maid in the manor."

"Never!" Ginny hissed, backing away.

"Really? What would force you to resort to manual labor of this sort, Miss Weasley? Financial troubles?"

"That is none of your business," Ginny snapped, grabbing the paper back from him.

"Wait, don't bother. I remember hearing something about your misfortunes. Five thousand Galleons in debt, correct?" Ginny didn't even bother to ask how he knew. Lucius Malfoy had more connections than the internet.

"If you would kindly get out of my way, I am late to meet my mother-"

"Wait a moment, Miss Weasley. I am in need of your cleaning services."

"I will not serve you or your family," Ginny spat firmly. Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"What if I told you that I would pay off your five thousand Galleon debt and I would continue to pay you ten Galleons a week?" Ginny froze. She was torn. She didn't know what to do. She knew that working for the Malfoy's would give her mother a heart attack, considering that Lucius was a well-known Death Eater. Even if Lucius' persistence seemed peculiar, Ginny knew that her family needed the money.

"Do we have an accord?" Lucius asked, extending his hand, revealing the ugly scar on his forearm. Ginny hesitated briefly. She felt as though she was making a deal with the devil.

"Am I allowed to quit whenever I want?" Ginny asked carefully.

"In order for me to pay off your debt, you have to at least work for me for two weeks. After that, if you really don't like the handsome wage I am paying you, then you are indeed allowed to leave." Ginny chewed her lower lip as she considered his proposition.

"All right, Mr. Malfoy. You have a deal."

"You did what?" Molly screeched. Ginny winced and apologized to people around them who were glaring. She grabbed her mother's hand and squeezed.

"I'm doing it for our family! I'll be all right, Mum!"

"He's a bloody Death Eater, Ginny! Why didn't you call for help? He would have been arrested!"

"He's paying off our entire debt, Mum! And he'll continue to pay me ten Galleons every week that I work for him. It's not a bad deal."

"Except for the part where he's a slimy, good-for-nothing bastard!" Molly exclaimed. Ginny's eyes were filling with tears. She had just wanted to help.

"I'm sorry, Mum. But with or without your blessing, I am going to Malfoy Manor. I am going to save our family," Ginny stated firmly. Molly looked up at her daughter. When had she gotten to be so headstrong? She could see that there was no reasoning with Ginny. Eventually, she just nodded.

"I'm going to be living here at the Leaky Cauldron. The Department of Currency Collection won't allow me to live at the Burrow without proper finances."

"You'll be back at the Burrow in no time, Mum. I promise."

"You're living at Malfoy Manor, then?"

"Yes."

"You'd better get upstairs and pack your things," Molly murmured quietly. Ginny nodded and started up the stairs. As she was emptying out her closet into a suitcase, she came across the box of photographs she had cried over every single night. Sighing, she crossed the hall to her mother's bedroom. She put the box on the bed, knowing that her mother would need them more than she would. When her trunk was fully packed, Ginny headed back downstairs into the kitchen. Molly was dabbing at her eyes with her apron again.

"Good bye, Mum. I'll owl you every day," Ginny promised as she hugged her mother.

"If you don't, I'm going to worry that something awful has happened."

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Mum. I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"I know, dear. At the first sign of trouble-"

"Yes, Mum, I'll come home." The flames in the fireplace turned green and Ginny recognized it as the signal Lucius had promised to send. She took a deep breath and stepped into the flames with her trunk. Through the flickering tongues of fire, Ginny caught one last glimpse of her crying mother before she was whisked away to Malfoy Manor. Molly sank into a chair as her daughter disappeared. Instinctively, she looked up at the clock on the wall. She watched with a sinking feeling in her stomach as Ginny's hand moved with agonizing sluggishness to join the other seven members of the family in mortal peril.

Ginny stepped out of the fire and saw Lucius was there waiting for her. She tried not to show her fear as she walked towards him. He was wearing an ugly sort of smirk on his lips.

"Welcome, Miss Weasley."

Ginny said nothing.

"Crang will lead you to your quarters. I have important business to attend to." Ginny shivered to think what this important business might be. She could not linger on the thought for that much longer, because an unsightly little house elf was tugging on her pants.

"Follow Crang, Miss Weasley," the house elf commanded in a high voice. Ginny levitated her trunk and followed the creepy little house elf up three flights of stairs. When they reached the third floor, Crang suddenly shot forward and ran to the end of the hallway. When he got there, he sprung up into the air and grabbed a string hanging from the ceiling. A rickety, wooden staircase came out of the ceiling and touched the ground with a thud.

"Miss Weasley's room is up in the attic."

"Thank you, Crang," Ginny replied distantly. Crang stared at her as if she had just turned into a hippogriff.

"What did Miss Weasley say?"

"Thank you," Ginny repeated.

"Crang does not know the meaning of the words Miss Weasley speaks." Ginny was filled with pity for the poor house elf. Who did not know what the words thank you meant?

"I am grateful for your help, Crang."

"Crang is happy to serve, Miss Weasley." The bizarre little elf scuttled away, leaving Ginny at the foot of the staircase from the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, Ginny levitated her trunk up ahead of her until she heard it clunk onto the floor. Then she walked the rest of the way up and cursed when she hit her head on the low ceiling. She straightened up as best she could and looked around. The attic was dark, and it smelled of mold. The windows were grimy and did not allow for much light to penetrate.

"Lumos," Ginny muttered. Bright light filled the room. Dozens of bats fluttered around in a panic. Ginny was certain that she saw a rat out of the corner of her eye scurry for cover. She surveyed the room and saw the bed on which she was supposed to sleep. It was moth-eaten, and the springs were showing in a few places. The dresser was carpeted in a thick layer of dust. The mirror was cracked, and there was barely enough space for any other piece of furniture. Ginny sighed and took in her home sweet home. It's all for the family. I'm doing this for my family. She told herself over and over while she unpacked her clothes.

Cautiously, she went over to test the bed. She sat down slowly on the mattress. It groaned under her weight, but it seemed all right. She bounced a little on it, and the entire bed crashed to the floor with a deafening thud. Ginny scrambled to her feet and assessed the damage. Unless she wanted to sleep on the floor with the rats, she was going to have to find a new sleeping arrangement.

She descended the creaking stairs slowly, as if afraid that they might break as well, and looked around. She was surrounded by doors. One of them had to be a linen closet. Luckily, it was the first door she selected. She found a sufficient bed sheet and brought it upstairs. She found two rusty nails sticking out of the wood and decided that they were sturdy enough. Then she resourcefully fashioned a makeshift hammock from the bed sheet and suspended it from the two nails. With greater caution this time, she lowered herself into the shell and tested its strength. It seemed to work all right. With exhaustion plaguing her mind, Ginny surrendered to her heavy eyelids and fell into a deep sleep.