A/N: For those who are asking when the "action" will start, don't worry. I haven't forgotten the plot I started with; I've just been giving it some time to build everything up a bit. There's no sense for everything to happen at once. Just be patient - all will be known in good time. ;o

Draco stood in the Owlery early one morning, a sheaf of parchment clutched in one hand, a cigarette held in the other. He took furious draughts from the cigarette, his face blank and hard, like a mask, where he faced out the window. He thought about tearing the letter to pieces, but then decided against it. It was a harsh reality check as to what still remained to be done. He had gotten lazy in the past couple of months, somewhat due to the arrival of Ginny to the scene. She had provided a distraction to the bitterness of his life, but that didn't change the fact that something needed to be done. They would have to think of something and think of something soon. Even sooner than they had thought. He glanced down at the parchment in his fist, and opened it up yet again. He read no more than the first line before crumpling it up again. "Fuck," he muttered to himself, barely managing to hold back the angry tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. But now was not the time for tears. Now was the time for action. He thought about calling Ginny and Blaise and Pansy together right then, but classes would be starting in a couple of hours. He would have to wait until later, then. For now he decided that he'd have to have his house elf send him a bottle of the finest fire whiskey from home. No barely-alcoholic wine for Draco tonight; no, tonight he would need something stronger.

Ginny walked with Cass and Ally to the Great Hall, all three yawning and stretching and rubbing sleep from their eyes. They had all been forced to stay up late last night, thanks to the hellish amount of Transfiguration homework McGonnagall had assigned them, and therefore each had only received around three hours of sleep.

"How does she expect us to be able to pay attention in class if she's kept us up the whole night before with her stupid, three-foot long essays? Frankly, I don't give a damn about how you transfigure a porcupine into a pincushion," Ally mumbled angrily to herself.

"I know, I know," Ginny said tiredly. "But at least it's done now. I just need about four cups of coffee, and then I'll be good for at least a few hours."

She slumped into her usual seat at the Gryffindor table, Cass and Ally on either side of her. She automatically looked up toward the Slytherin table as she poured herself a cup of coffee, and what she saw woke her up more instantly and completely than the coffee would have. Draco's eyes met hers for no more than a second, but that second was all it took. Something was wrong. She didn't know how she knew it, but she did. She knew it more surely than anything else at that point. Neither Blaise nor Draco nor Pansy was giving any signs of misgivings, but that didn't matter. She knew Draco; she knew that hard, vacant look, the look he got when he had withdrawn so far inside his mind to contemplate something dire. Ginny's brain immediately started shuffling through its information, and the only conclusion that she could reach was that it had something to do with his father and/or becoming a Death Eater. But she also knew that she couldn't do anything about it just then. Classes were about to start, and she couldn't just pull him off into some broom closet or something to talk. They wouldn't have enough time, for one thing. She would have to wait until that night to find out. She didn't even care that it would mean going another night without much (if any) sleep. Something was up, but she could do nothing about it now. She just hoped that she would be able to get through the rest of the day without being driven crazy by not knowing, and most of all by not being able to help.

She gritted her teeth and returned to her coffee, trying desperately to make the time move faster. Finally it was time for class to start. Only a seemingly infinite number of hours left to go.

Blaise and Pansy helped themselves to toast and eggs, trying not to act like anything was wrong while they were around their other classmates. But it was, and they knew it. Draco had told them this morning that there was something he needed to tell them. He hadn't told them what exactly it was, and they had the sense not to push it. Everything would be known that evening once Ginny was with them to provide her input as well.

But whatever it was, it was something bad. Draco wasn't speaking much at all to anybody. His face was paler than normal, almost as colorless as the snow that blanketed the ground outside. His hands shook every time he reached for the cup in front of him, and twice he had nearly spilled coffee down his front as though he wasn't really paying any attention to what he was doing. Yet despite all this they could see in his eyes that he still possessed the same obstinacy that he'd always had. And that was, perhaps, the only thing that kept them from breaking down with worry as well.

Pansy spread some butter on her toast, and turned toward Draco. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked concernedly in an undertone, making sure that the rest of the table couldn't hear her.

Draco smirked at her, the smirk coming as easily to his face as though nothing was the matter.

"Do you doubt me?" he asked.

Pansy smiled back. Even though something was obviously wrong, he still tried not to show it. He was still trying to be their big, brave Slytherin prince.

"Of course not. But that doesn't mean you're okay," she replied, turning back to her toast, smiling although she knew that he was merely putting on a show for the sake of her and Blaise.

Draco turned back to his coffee, grateful that Pansy had accepted his words without pushing matters further. There was no reason for them to have to spend all day frantic with worry for his sake. They would find out later. For now, ignorance would be bliss. In their case, at least.

It was now the last class of the day: In Ginny's case, this was Charms. Ginny sat at her desk, waiting impatiently for class to end. It had been a long day. She needed to find out what was going on before it drove her mad.

"What's the matter, Gin?" Ally asked, peering at her best friend suspiciously from behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses. Ginny had been acting harried all day. She would practically run to each of her classes, get her homework done as quickly as possible without catching the parchment on fire from the speed of her writing, and then spend the rest of the class glaring at the clock before rushing out again as soon as class was over. Ally may not act serious a lot of the time, but she was smarter than her blonde hair gave her credit for. Something was up with Ginny.

"Wha - ," Ginny said, snapping out of her reverie. "Oh, nothing," she said distractedly. "I just really need to…er...get some sleep. I do not want to have to sit up late doing anymore homework tonight."

She faked a huge yawn, knowing that her embarrassingly feeble lie hadn't put Ally off one bit.

"Right," Ally said, still skeptical. But she returned to her Charms work, deciding to investigate Ginny's strange behavior later.

Ginny turned back to the clock. It was almost time. Less than a minute and she'd be free. Finally, the bell rang signaling the end of class. She jumped from her seat as though she was on fire, ran out the door and back to her dormitory as quick as possible. There waiting for her was Draco's Patronus, in the form of a huge silvery wolf. In Draco's voice it spoke to her, saying, "Come to the Room of Requirement. Ask for a room where you can talk without being discovered. " Then it rose majestically and dissipated before it could leap out of the room, silver skeins of vapor providing the only evidence of its presence.

Ginny quickly changed out of her school clothes, donning instead a pair of sweat pants and a tank top. She then rushed out of the dormitory and into the common room, nearly knocking over Ron as she made her way to the portrait hole.

"Oi! Watch it, will you?" Ron yelled back at her. Ginny doubted that he'd even recognized it to be her. At this point, she didn't care. She just wanted to find out what was wrong with Draco, and find out quickly. As always, her mind jumped to the worst-case scenario. What if Draco's father was taking Draco out of school now? What would Ginny do then? For some reason, the thought of Draco leaving Hogwarts gave Ginny a horrible sense of loss. He had become a refuge for her lately, a person with whom she could laugh and talk and argue with to forget about the pressures of school, among other things. The past few weeks had been great, if not a bit strange. She didn't want to lose that.

She finally made it to the open stretch of wall where lay the hidden entrance to the Room of Requirement. She walked back and forth past it three times. "I need a room where I can talk without being discovered. I need a room where I can talk without being discovered. I need a room where I can talk without being discovered."

She glanced up. An enormous wooden door was taking form into the previously empty stone wall. Before it had even completely appeared, she seized the handle and practically threw herself in. Draco, Blaise, and Pansy were already there, each seated upon an enormous couch that took up the whole back wall. Torches were set into the wall, throwing dancing shadows upon the floor. An abnormally long mahogany coffee table was in front of the couch; on it were a bottle of wine, a rather large bottle of fire whiskey, four glasses, and an assortment of snack foods and candy.

She walked quickly over to them and sat on the couch. "What's going on?" she said quickly, barely taking time to breathe. "I noticed at breakfast that something was wrong, and it's been driving me mad all day."

"Calm down, for Merlin's sake," Blaise said. "Here, drink this." He poured a shot of fire whiskey and handed the glass to Ginny, which she promptly downed in one gulp. She took a couple of breaths and said, "Now. Can somebody please inform me of what the hell is going on?"

"We don't know anymore than you do," Pansy said quietly. "Draco was waiting for you to get here so that he could tell us all at once."

Three heads simultaneously turned toward Draco. Draco poured himself some fire whiskey, drank it, ran a hand wearily over his eyes, and pulled a crumpled slip of parchment from inside his robes. He handed it to Blaise, and Pansy and Ginny leaned closer to him so that they could read it too. It said:

Draco,

I am writing this letter to inform you that our master, the Dark Lord, wishes to initiate you as soon as possible. This cause for celebration was unfortunately caused by the death of three of our own in an unexpected Auror attack. Due to this, the Dark Lord demanded that you formally join us as soon as we can pull you away from Hogwarts without at first demanding suspicion from Dumbledore, for we must work to replace those three we lost. The Dark Lord has great plans that need to be put into action; our forces cannot afford to be diminished too much at this crucial point. Therefore, during the Easter Holidays you are to be commenced as a Death Eater. I know that you will receive this news as an honor and a privilege. I can only say for your sake that I hope you do not disappoint me.

Sincerely, Lucius Malfoy

Ginny looked up at Draco, horror inscribed all over her face. "But," she spluttered. "No! He can't just pull you out of school and drag you off to become a Death Eater! Dumbledore would find out, Dumbledore wouldn't allow it to happen…" Her words dragged off into silence. She knew they were empty, futile words. You-Know-Who could do as much as he pleased, and he'd been doing so for quite awhile now. The only thing that remained was how to stop it.

Draco looked up at them, and he looked utterly defeated. "I've got a little over three months," he said, his voice dry from hardly using it all day. "Three months."

The room went silent. Nobody knew what to say to comfort Draco, for there was nothing they could say. It seemed hopeless that they could do anything. Suddenly the full might of what they were trying to oppose swam into view. They would have to face down You-Know-Who, the Death Eaters, and Draco's father in order to get Draco away safely. Draco may as well just consider himself dead. As Ginny thought this rather unhelpful, morbid thought, the beginnings of a plan formulated in her head. Mind working furiously, Ginny turned to Blaise and Pansy, pulling them aside. "I think I have an idea," she whispered.

"What?" Blaise asked rapidly.

"Not right now," Ginny said with an air of finality. "I need you and Pansy to go write a letter to Draco's mother. Tell her to find a way to make sure that Lucius is not at home during the Christmas holidays. We've got to be able to go there and discuss something with her without Draco's father interfering or knowing about it whatsoever. Hurry! Go!"

Without hesitating, Blaise and Pansy left the Room of Requirement. Ginny moved back toward the couch and sat beside Draco. He smelled strongly of fire whiskey, but he didn't look too terribly drunk; he looked to just be more withdrawn. But then again, maybe it was the fire whiskey. He even seemed to be too out of it to inquire about Blaise and Pansy's sudden absence.

"Draco?" Ginny said tentatively.

He offered her a smile, but it turned out looking more like a grimace. "So what now?" he asked.

She smiled back at him, but it was a forced smile. "I don't know," she replied honestly.

Draco looked up at her, searching her face for a hint of any sort of possibility. Her hair hung loose in crimson locks, trailing over her bare shoulders like fire. Her eyes shone like polished emerald in the dim lighting, and there he found fortitude. It was perhaps then that he realized that she had no ulterior motives for wanting to help him. At first it had been the general compassion that he'd come to know she possessed, but now it was because she sincerely cared about him.

"Thank you, Ginny," he said softly, his gaze completely lucid as he looked straight into her eyes.

She stared intently back at him, her mind searching for words to speak, but finding none. So she simply watched him, his long pale hair pulled out of his sharply angled face in a ponytail, his otherwise flawless skin appearing to be lined with experiences beyond his years. She lifted a slightly shaking hand and ran it along the side of his face and down his jaw line, as though hoping to erase some of the plights that had left their mark there, as one brushes away a cobweb.

Draco closed his eyes, trying to keep from shivering as the redhead's small fingers traced their way down his face. She gave him a reassuring smile and went to pull her hand away, but Draco grabbed tightly onto it and pressed his lips gently to the back of her hand without once taking his eyes from her. She inhaled sharply at the smooth feel of his lips on her skin, but he didn't appear to notice.

"We're going to pull this off, right?" he asked urgently, placing his other hand under her chin and pulling her face closer to his. He was near enough to her to see every freckle that was scattered across her face, close enough, despite the effects of the fire whiskey, to notice for the first time that there were flecks of gold among the green in her eyes.

Ginny smiled then, a roguish smile that seemed to make the gold in her eyes brighten. "Yes," she said with assurance. "We are."

"You have a plan," he said. It wasn't a question; it was a statement of fact. His tone sounded unsurprised, but his eyes were alight with a newfound determination.

"I do," she replied.

"Well, let's hear it, then," he said, reluctant to move away from her but eager to hear what she had to say.

"Well," she began dramatically. "You're going to have to die."

He shot her a cynical look, saying dryly, "Sounds good so far."

"Draco," she said, almost sternly, causing Draco to cringe. That tone reminded him of his mother. "How badly do you want to get out of this?"

He looked at her, the sardonic glint leaving his eyes as though replaced by a shadow. "I would do anything," he said quietly. And one look in those grey eyes told Ginny that he meant it. For the millionth time over the past couple of months she wondered how it must feel to have to stand against your own family in order to uphold your beliefs.

"Even ask for help?" Ginny asked, knowing full well how prideful he was.

"Help?" Draco repeated quizzically. "From whom?"

Ginny took a deep breath. "Dumbledore," she said.

"And what could he do?"

"Fake your death," Ginny said promptly. "We can set it up with Dumbledore so that as you get ready to leave Malfoy Manor with your father to become a Death Eater, a group Order members can ambush you. Someone – I don't know who – would have to take the Polyjuice Potion with some of your hair in it. Then, as your father is distracted by the ensuing fight, we could do a switch. The fake-you can lie on the ground and appear to be dead; that way, your father can say he saw your dead body with his own two eyes. Then we could go into hiding."

Draco sat there for awhile, stroking his chin contemplatively. It could just work. Of course, he, Blaise, and Pansy had thought of the whole "fake your own death" thing before. It was a classic. But they had known that Lucius would never believe his son was dead if he didn't see the body with his own eyes, and therefore would never stop searching for him. Lucius may have been malevolent, but he was also clever. The sudden, unexpected "death" of his son wouldn't draw him in for a moment. Ginny, however, had found a way to take care of that factor. There would still be some loose ends to tie up, such as what would be done with the "fake-him" after the switch, but for the most part it was extremely well thought out. But then, a thought entered his mind as he comprehended what Ginny had actually said.

"'We'?" he asked amusedly.

"What?" Ginny replied, a look of confusion upon her face.

"You said 'we'," Draco said. "'We could go into hiding'."

"Oh, shut up," Ginny said, half disgustedly, half smiling. "You know what I meant. My mind was kind of running at a hundred miles an hour at that point, I couldn't exactly get all of my words out straight."

Draco began laughing at the indignant look on Ginny's face. It was a relieved sort of laugh; the kind of laughter that flows like honey after a day spent brooding in despair. It felt good.

"You are so immature," Ginny said rolling her eyes.

"You are so in denial," Draco retorted, smiling wickedly at her.

"Well, is it a plan or what?" Ginny asked, hurriedly changing the subject before they got into another one of their "challenges".

"Yes," he said, his tone quickly changing from mischievous to business-like. "But are you sure that we can pull it off?"

"Where there's a will, there's a way," Ginny replied confidently.

"Indeed," Draco said thoughtfully.

"And what is that supposed to mean, Master Malfoy?"

"Oh, nothing," he said, the traditional Malfoy smirk adorning his features.

Ginny smiled as she looked up at him, glad to see that he was less despondent, and his smirk changed into a smile directed back at her. She shook her head slightly, the smile on her face widening as some apparent contemplation, unknown to Draco, entered her mind. A stray strand of hair fell into her face, and he brushed it away without thinking, the backs of his fingers trailing along Ginny's forehead.

"Did you know something, Ginny?" Draco asked, his fingers tracing loosely down Ginny's cheek. He wasn't looking directly at her, but rather seemed to be mesmerized by the sight of his hands on her skin, and the fact that she hadn't pulled away from his touch.

"What?" Ginny said softly.

"You're the only one that's given a damn about me without first having a reason to do so."

"What about Blaise and Pansy?" Ginny said. "They obviously care about you."

"Well, yeah," Draco said. "But that's different. We three were raised together, and we sort of bonded together based on our similar circumstances. But you have nothing in common with me in that sense, no reason to be here tonight whatsoever. And yet you are."

"I know," Ginny said vaguely, watching him intently. Where was this going? For the past couple of weeks she had not been able to keep Draco off of her mind. His presence was one she was becoming as accustomed to as eating or breathing. They had been there for each other, each helping the other even if they didn't really realize it. True, they had only known each other for a short while. But she found him to be completely intoxicating; in everything from the way he looked, to the way he smelled, to the way he spoke. And she realized then that her reasons for wanting to help him had little to do with only compassion anymore. Her reasons were partly selfish: She didn't want to lose him. What is this? Ginny thought to herself, though her thoughts didn't seem to be hers to control any longer. A Weasley and a Malfoy? She said again to herself. Yeah, right. It was the first time the thought had really entered her mind, but she found that she didn't detest the idea. Quite the contrary, in fact.

They sat there like that for an instant, his quicksilver eyes piercing through her like ice, causing a shiver to crawl up her spine. But all of a sudden the moment was dispelled by the sudden opening of the door. They both jumped back from each other.

"Did you send it?" Ginny asked quickly as Blaise and Pansy entered the room, making a grand show of pouring herself some wine in order to cover up the blush she could feel rising steadily over her cheeks.

"Yes," Pansy said, moving to sit beside her on the couch. "Sorry it took so long; we had to make a couple of long detours around Peeves. Luckily we heard him before he could see us."

"Would you mind filling us in on the whole plan now?" Blaise asked. "I hate being kept in suspense."

So Ginny told them of the plan, to which they all agreed. There were still a few loose ends to be taken care of, but those could be dealt with when the time came. They would have to find a time soon to go to Dumbledore, and to figure out what exactly they were going to say in order to convince Dumbledore of Draco's sincerity. All they could do now was hope that everything turned out as planned.

After a few more glasses of fire whiskey and/or wine, they all four conceded that it was time for bed. It had been a tiring day for all of them, and sleep would be welcome. Blaise and Pansy made their way out the door side by side followed Ginny and then Draco. As Blaise and Pansy rounded the corner ahead of them, Draco hesitated for a second, but then pulled Ginny back by the door, kissed her soundly on the lips, and walked away wordlessly after his friends; out of sight, but not quite out of mind.