June 1997

"I know a safe place. Take my hand!"

She stood there, her brain debating the enormity of the action.

'Should I take the hand being offered me, or not?'

Ginny Weasley could hear cries from the professors behind her, as they desperately trying to defend Hogwarts against the onslaught of invading Death Eaters. Screams were cutting through the night air and each one seemed to heighten the fear within her.

'How did they get in?'

Ginny had quickly realized her fifteen years weren't enough to prepare for the caliber of fighting needed to compete with Voldemort's lackeys. They'd descended on the school like sycophantic parasites, feasting on all who stood in their way. If it hadn't been for the Felix Felicities her brother had forced on her, she'd probably be dead already.

The defenders of Hogwarts consisted of only a small number of professors and a few members of Dumbledore's Army.

'Where are all the other Professors?'

The confrontation had begun inside the castle, near the Astronomy Tower, but managed to wind its way out onto the dew covered grounds.

'It's too open here; I need a shield, a tree, anything!'

It was when she turned and ran for the tree line of the Forbidden Forest that she crossed his path. He'd been behind her, and Ginny's first instinct was that he wanted to fight, but his wand stayed by his side, so she hesitated.

Draco Malfoy was not someone she would consider an ally. But he was different. At the beginning of the year she'd noticed the verbal abuse she was use to hearing from him had stopped. In the past he never passed up an opportunity to insult her, but this year he'd simply ignored her. It was… odd; so she started watching him.

His already pale complexion seemed to have lightened even more during the school year. Bags steadily grew under his eyes. And when he didn't realize anyone was looking, he would seem to zone out; a look of deep contemplation on his face. And at times, something else; despair maybe? But she had been watching. She'd seen the changes.

He didn't smile, not that he was ever the jolly type before, but even around his friends, he never smiled. He didn't seem to want to join in their conversations, either.

Then something else happened. One day, while walking down the corridor, about to pass Moaning Myrtles bathroom, she heard voices inside.

'No one ever uses this restroom.'

So she stopped, and listened. It was a male voice. Then she heard crying.

Unable to halt her Gryffindor curiosity, she pushed open the door. For a moment all she could do was stare. The always dignified, always regal, Draco Malfoy was on his knees, back bent, head hung low, palms against the floor, and he was crying.

Then she moved. Rushing forward Ginny crouched down behind him and wrapped her arms around his bowed form. She didn't know what made her do it, or even why he let her. Oh there'd been resistance at first. He sucked in a deep breath at the feel of her arms, and attempted to shake her off; but it was as if he'd lost all power to fight, and just gave in. He allowed himself to be engulfed by her embrace as she whispered soothing words in his ear. Several moments passed with neither saying a word. Once he'd stopped crying, and his breathing evened out. He shrugged her off. She then stood and gave him a lingering look before turning and walking out of the bathroom; he was still crouched there on his knees.

Neither spoke a syllable about what happened that day. But their eyes did start meeting in the hallways, on the grounds, and in the Great Hall; short steady looks.

And now here he was, offering her aid at a time when she needed it most.

'What if this is an act to lure me into another, equally dangerous, situation?'

She was the daughter of two known Order members after all; a friend of the smartest witch of their age; the girlfriend of Harry Potter. Kidnapping her would certainly improve Draco's standing with his Dark Lord.

Lifting her gaze, she noticed his flaxen hair stood out from the darkness of the night, as if to form a halo around his head. And the lightness of his gray eyes also seemed to shine though the shadows. These weren't the eyes of someone who sought to betray her. These eyes, his eyes, reflected something significantly different. Ginny flippantly chuckled at the absurdity of the thought passing through her mind.

'He looks like an angel.'

Her moment of silent contemplation was broken when a jet of green light passed directly over her head.

They both lunged forward and found themselves sprawled out on the grass. Quickly standing, two wands were raised in perfect unison. Side-by-side they turned towards the direction the curse appeared from. But there was no Death Eater standing there watching them. The beam had only been a rogue curse from the battle raging before their eyes.

Turning her face, she met his gaze again. Extending his arm, she watched as his long, slim fingers reached out, beckoning for acceptance. Draco wordlessly repeated his message- 'take my hand'.

In that moment the world stopped spinning. The chaos she'd been engulfed in minutes before was forgotten. This was it. This seemingly innocent gesture of accepting ones hand could make the difference between her living and dying. And similar to the one on the battlefield, there was a war raging inside of her as to whether or not she should accept his offer.

'Can I trust him?'

The simple answer was 'no'. Trust wasn't something easily doled out during times of war. Trust had to be earned; it needed time. But nothing about this was simple.

Staring directly into his gray eyes, she took a slow, deep breath and reached out, placing her palm into his. There was a soft crack, as Ginny Weasley allowed herself to be apparated into the unknown.