Draco stood, trembling, in an alcove off of the entrance hall. He leaned his back against the cold stone of the wall and slid down it to rest on the floor, his forehead on his bent knees. The image of that one little girl flashed in his mind again, and a single tear fled down his face. How could I have let this happen? he thought. He could hear the living in the Hall beyond clearing the dead and the Ministry officials rounding up the stunned Death Eaters. No one knew he was there. No one was looking for him.

Except Ginny.

She was the only reason he hadn't run by now, run fast and far away. She had saved his life, and she wanted to talk to him. Any tiny chance of someone on the right side believing that he wanted to be good was a chance worth taking.

Footsteps.

Coming closer.

Draco scrambled to his feet, pulled his wand from the back pocket of his jeans, and braced himself in case it wasn't Ginny coming toward him, someone less…friendly, if she could be called that from the look on her face.

But it was her.

"Put your wand down!" she hissed, sliding into the recess. "Quick! Aparate us away. I don't care where, just not where anyone can find us." She put a hand on his shoulder. It was warm and it calmed him.

"What about the antiaparition wards?" he asked.

"They were damaged in the fight," Ginny explained. "Now go! Hurry up before someone finds us!" Draco put a hand over hers to make sure she stayed with him and turned on the spot. When they opened their eyes, they were in a huge room lined with bookshelves, a large bed in the middle. A writing desk and a fireplace filled one corner, a bureau the other. A long row of french windows leading out to a balcony terrace made up the other wall. A bedroom, probably.

"Where are we?" Ginny asked, stepping away from him a good distance as she eyed the green bed linens with suspicion.

"My room in Malfoy Manor."

"What?!"

"It's okay!" he assured her, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "My father just got arrested--thanks for that, by the way--my mother's in France for a few weeks, and the wards will alert us if anyone else tries to get in so we'll have plenty of time to run for it. This is by far the safest place to be right now." He gestured and Ginny tentatively sat down in an armchair by the bed, turning it to face him. Draco flicked his wand and a fire sprang up in the grate. "Now, what exactly did you want to say to me?"

"Why did you let those Death Eaters in?" she asked at once. Draco sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees. It was a while before he answered.

"I really don't know," he admitted quietly, looking up at her. She was surprised at how tired he looked, so much older than he was. "Maybe to try and places my father. Maybe to try and make something of myself. Maybe just because I didn't know what else to do. Maybe a mixture of the three. I don't know. All I do know is that I wish I hadn't. I wish I didn't go into the forest last night, I wish this mark would just go away. Sometimes…sometimes I wish I was never born." He turned his face away from her, dropping his gaze to the floor again.

"No!" Ginny said. "Don't think that way! I don't care what you've done, that doesn't mean you don't deserve to live. Just because--"

"But I don't!" Draco cried. "I really don't. I've done nothing to help anyone my entire life! All I've done is bully people, a-and cater to my father's every evil whim, and tried to be something I'm just not to please the people around me. I have nothing to offer, and no one would miss me if I wasn't here." He looked so sad, so alone, that Ginny had tears in her eyes.

"Malfoy--"

"Please," he said, flinching. "don't call me Malfoy. Draco, ferret, I really don't care. Just not Malfoy." She nodded, confused at his weary tone.

"Draco…of course people would miss you. I'm sure Pansy would be lost without you," she said, giving her best impression of a chuckle.

"Pansy would move right along to her next boy toy within days. A little crying for show, but she wouldn't really care. And don't even try to bring up my parents. My parents never cared to begin with, so they wouldn't miss me. The only reason they saved me from my last suicide attempt was so as to appear as concerned, loving parents in the public eye."

"Y-you tried to kill yourself?" Ginny whispered, horrified. Draco didn't answer, didn't even look at her, just pulled up his right sleeve to reveal a row of scars, some more healed than others, some fresh, going up and down his arm. "You were a cutter?" she asked, her heart breaking at the shame and pain written clearly on his lowered face.

"Am," he corrected her. "I am a cutter." It sounded like it cost him a lot to admit. It was silent for a moment as he pulled his sleeve back down. "I quit for a while. Then I heard I was scheduled to get this and it started back up again," he said, showing her his other arm, where the Dark Mark was burned black and ugly into it. Ginny recoiled and he hastily covered it again, flushing.

"Sorry." Ginny pushed her hair behind her ear. "When did you get the mark?" she asked tentatively, wondering if that was too painful a question.

"Last night. They let me in on their plans immediately," he said in a monotone. Ginny's temper flared again.

"Well, if you knew, then why didn't you tell anyone?" she demanded furiously.

"Have you ever seen a friend die at the hands of Voldemort?" he asked abruptly, turning his sharp, blank blue eyes on her. The pain and surrender in them gave her chills. "Right in front of your face? And not just with a spell. The muggle way. A knife. Voldemort stabbed my friend in the stomach and split it open. As an example, a show, entertainment. And I was the one who put the idea of betrayal in his head to begin with. But I was a better Occlumens. He got caught and I didn't. He was killed and I wasn't. That's why I didn't tell."

Ginny was in shock. She didn't respond for a moment, the image the detached retelling conjured floating against her eyelids like some grotesque watercolor painting. "That's…horrible…" she choked out, her voice strained. The boy chuckled slightly, and nodded the tiniest bit, looking down again. "But at least you want out. You do want out, don't you?"

"Of course I want out!" Draco exploded, jumping to his feet. "I've only been a Death Eater one day and I couldn't handle it! Why would I want to kill muggleborns? I don't see anything wrong with them. I admit that some of them are better than me. Namely Granger. She's better than me at everything, so why would I kill her? Just because she's a muggleborn? No! I don't want Voldemort to win the war! I may not like Potter, but that doesn't mean I want him dead. In fact, I respect him very much, more than I respect myself. All of you! You're all better people than I am and I've always known that. Potter and Granger were always outdoing me or finding yet another way to remind me of what I coward I am!" he yelled.

"Draco!" Ginny yelled back, standing up to push him back down onto the bed gently. "Calm down! You're not a coward. And if you really want to switch sides, we can find a way to make that happen. The others may not believe you, but I do. And Dumbledore will. That's all that matters," she said soothingly, looking him right in the eyes. She saw the anger fading from them as tears and desperation replaced it. Carefully, she sat on the bed beside him. When he showed no signs of discouragement, she put an arm around him. Reluctantly, he leaned on her, allowing her to hug him. "Making bad choices doesn't make you a bad person, Draco. But wanting to fix them makes you good."

I hope so, Ginny, Draco thought desolately, I hope so.

As she sat with Draco in her arms, Ginny felt something she had never felt for that particular boy: sympathy, pity, and maybe a touch of affection. Vulnerability had always been an endearing quality to her. It was strange, being there with him, but like she said, she was always an empath, and Draco seemed to be in desperate need of some help and friendship. She stroked his back as he hugged her tightly. He was trying to bite back tears, she could tell. She didn't say anything, just waited for him to move. Eventually, Draco pulled away, discreetly wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"Would you like something to eat, Ginny?" he asked after casting around for something to say. Her face split into a smile.

"I would love some." Beaming at her, Draco called for his personal house elf, Dwink, to fetch them some cookies and milk ("You're never too old for a classic!") which they went down to eat in a spacious glittering kitchen painted a pastel green. It had a much more welcoming air about it, no doubt thanks to Narcissa's feminine touch. They ate in silence for a few minutes until Ginny spoke up.

"Do you have any ideas on how to approach the rest of the Order?" she asked. He hesitated.

"None whatsoever."

"Fair enough. We'll figure something out together. And I might be able to convince Hermione or someone ahead of time to come over and help. Her hatred of you isn't as blind as Harry and Ron's, and we could use her logic," she said. "You should just lay low here for a while. You're a known Death Eater now so they'll be looking for you. I'll go talk to Hermione, and I'll be back. Program me into the wards so I can get back in." Ginny stood and, concentrating, Disaparated, leaving Draco alone again.