A/N: I'm well aware that I'm the biggest procrastinator the world has ever seen. It's been months since I've written anything –nearing 7 months, I think. Far too long. For that, I must ask your forgiveness. Life has brought me many changes and I can only make excuses.

Anyhow, I'm happy to report that there are only a few chapters left which are, with any hope, soon to be completed. I hope there are at least a few people who remember my story and/or haven't given up on me! I had a case of writers block, accompanied with a horrible bout of self-doubt. Anyhow! Thanks to Musings for the beta and to Staci who made me sit and write upon pain of death. Well…almost.

Third Day 4:30 am

"Where are you, you bitch?"

Ginny's heart leapt into her dry throat. Her body stood frozen to its spot, a pounding in her ears. He'd awoken. Geoffrey would find her and he would kill her; of that she was certain.

She quickly dashed to the dark corner near the door to better hear his location. She heard a wet-sounding cough, the uneven shuffle of feet –she waited, holding her breath- it was quiet for a few tense seconds. She could almost feel his slow progression towards her hiding place, could imagine him staggering past each door. She held her breath as the sickly sound of his laborious breathing came and went. He wasn't checking any of the doors, she noticed…she hadn't heard any indication of a door being used; her mind raced.

Where does he think I'd have gone? Probably out the front door…wherever that is.

Ginny bit her lip and strained her ears harder, uncertain. She couldn't hear anything. Should she just run for it? What if he saw her?

So what if he did? she asked herself, tightening her grip on the stolen wand.

Ginny placed her clammy hand on the cold silver door handle and paused to place a concealment charm on herself. Taking a deep breath, she eased the door open enough to peek through. The rich wood-paneled walls and the soft flickering of dying light were all that met her eyes. She opened the door a bit wider, just enough to let her body through and, looking both ways, silently slinked in the opposite direction that she'd heard Geoffrey go. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the long, dark expanse of hallway and couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine. She'd experienced running for her life before –too many times as it were- but the quaking urgency that reverberated through her limbs at this moment felt like nothing before. Ginny trailed her shaking hand along the wall as she picked up speed, lumbering toward the stairs. She would find Cindy and convince her to come along. They'd climb the long staircase together and Ginny would get them out. Somehow, she'd get them home safe.

The stairs were concealed, but she knew they were there. She reached the kitchen and turned to the left, tapping the heavy wand on the expanse of wall where she thought the door might be. Sure enough, a soft click sounded and a handle, the same color as the wall, materialized. Glancing quickly behind her and seeing nothing, Ginny quickly entered and shut the door. She leaned against the wall; she felt her heart pound repeatedly in her heaving chest. The narrow stairs were steep and dark, with only one candle near her head illuminating her surroundings. The way down to the dungeons looked like a deep, black hole that, if not careful, she would fall into.

"Lumos."

Down, down she went, slowly at first then picking up speed. She could only see a few feet in front of her and the rest was swallowed by the cold dark. The air was becoming frigid and Ginny, already cold and weak, stumbled several times. Down, down, deeper and deeper; the air felt wet in her lungs and she knew she was near the end. Sure enough, she could see a dim and flickering light dance in her eyes ahead of her.

She continued towards it, the stairs becoming wider and, finally, she found the bottom. Her breath curled in front of her as she contemplated where to go next. She tried to remember the twists and turns that Malfoy had led her through only a few days ago, but there were far too many to remember correctly. She did remember, however, that there were a lot of hallways she had gone up and down and that she'd lost track halfway through, which was no help at all.

She looked left then right, knowing that she had to make a choice quickly. Cindy was somewhere in this cold and Malfoy and his goons could be back at any moment.

Marking the floor to the right with a red arrow, so she would know if she happened to be going in circles, she made her decision and set off quickly.

Third Day 5:00 am

Harry and Tonks, on Malfoy's estate, on the outskirts of Dover, crouched low against the large brick mansion. The snow was deeper against the house from the wind and their pursuit was slowed some. Knowing that there would be various wards or alarms in place to prevent someone from breaking in, Harry was thinking hard on how best to get to Malfoy. He wasn't really sure yet, but his fury and adrenaline were pushing him closer and closer to the front door.

"What are we going to do, Harry?" Tonks hissed, seemingly following Harry's thoughts, "we can't rightly just knock on his bloody door!"

Harry was seized suddenly with a thought: remembering once, long ago, when Dumbledore had said that the best way to understand the situation at hand was to perform the obvious.

"Yes we can," Harry said, not looking at his partner. He could hear her annoyed "tuh" but ignored it. "Knocking will bring someone to the door. The door will open, without wards being triggered, and we'll be inside."

"I think you're forgetting the mass of Death Eaters that are inside, Harry," she said hotly.

"Malfoy is supposed to be asleep," he went on, continuing to ignore Tonks' protests. "A house elf will probably answer the door."

"Probably?" She was hardly whispering, her voice shrill. "A house elf? More like an unforgivable greeting us, rather than an elf."

"You've got a better plan?" Harry asked, turning toward her for the first time. Tonks nearly ran into him, her face an angry red.

"Yeah, maybe I do." She appeared to be searching and Harry was about to say something like "that's what I thought," but a sudden light seemed to come on in Tonks' eyes that gave him pause.

"Why not use Kreacher? He might be able to get in and talk to the house elves or something, let you know how many Death Eaters are in there…" She was speaking fast, her words slurring together. "…He'd be able to get in, better than you or I, and he could find out where exactly Ginny is being held. It's the smart thing to do, Harry."

Harry bit his lip. He was very eager to bust his way in and confront them now, not later, even if it was only a half an hour wait. Besides, he didn't really trust Kreature, and he was ready to fight; he was ready to find Ginny, to hurt Malfoy. But, even though he wanted to bang on the door and start cursing anything that moved, he knew Tonks was thinking much more clearly than he was. "Right, I'll Summon him," he conceded, "but let's move back into the trees."

A few minutes later, safely hidden from view of the estate, Harry Summoned his inherited house elf. Before Kreacher could even croak a disdainful remark, Harry silenced him with a wave of his hand. The elf was very old now; he hobbled along and had what looked like large, purple liver spots that covered his frail body. "I've got a job for you, Kreacher, listen closely." The elf sneered and muttered something that could not be heard. Harry waited impatiently for Kreature to rise from his bow. He could see Kreature's cracked lips move, probably cursing his name, but Harry ignored this and continued: "I want you to get into Malfoy manor without alerting the residences of your presence, without telling those you meet why you were sent or who sent you. Find some other house elves and get some information on how many Death Eaters are in the house, where they are, and where my wife is. I want this information quickly. Do you understand?"

Kreacher bowed his bald head in compliance, not looking at all pleased.

"And then I want you to return and report immediately after you've secured this information," Harry added quickly. "Go." With another wave of his hand, Kreacher's disdainful croakings could be heard. His voice was higher in pitch from his old age, and much softer, though not without his old venom.

"Kreacher will do what the boy tells him to do, the miserable, Muggle-loving half-wit. How Kreature hates him, how he has suffered— "

"Go!" both Tonks and Harry said at the same time.

With a crack, the elf was gone and Harry began to pace.

5:00 am

Ginny's feet were frozen. She'd stumbled through the underground labyrinth as quickly as she could carry herself in search of her friend. She didn't dare to call out Cindy's name. Malfoy could have left any number of guards behind to watch Cindy. Though, Ginny countered, it wasn't likely. Cindy didn't really need minding and Malfoy didn't have many followers. He would have needed them to help him murder that poor family. She'd never known Malfoy capable of doing anything that required guts on his own. He needed to feel protected and sure that he would leave unscathed. And there was also the fact that he enjoyed bossing others about. Still, she wouldn't take the chance of being heard by someone who meant her harm.

Ginny rounded a corner and saw that she'd already been down the corridor once before, as she could see her bright arrow pointing to the right corridor. Left it was, then. Marking the ground once more, she set off in the opposite direction, wand held high. There were heavy doors, some with locks, some without, lining the hallways, all of which she had to check. So far, she'd only found empty and dark spaces. Some rooms had been filled with rusted munitions, others with broken furniture, but so far, none that contained her fellow captive. This hallway, however, seemed a bit different. Instead of finding a handful of doors to check, she saw none except for one at the very end of the dark expanse. Upon closer inspection, the heavy door was highly ornate: there was a tree carved into the dark wood with names lining the thick, twining branches. There were hundreds of names, bunched together and branching out. The script, carved deep and elegantly, was done by magic, as the characters gave off a faint golden glow when her wand light rested upon them. It was a family tree, she realized, completely in awe. Slowly, and almost automatically, without thinking, she reached for the door's handle, an iron ring, and tugged. It did not open so she pulled harder, feeling some give.

She wasn't sure why she felt so compelled to open the door. She certainly didn't remember passing this place when Malfoy had led her out, but she wanted to see what was on the other side. It was difficult to open, the door bottom scraping on the uneven floor; Ginny had to use all of her body weight to force it open, but, finally, it opened enough to allow her through. The air was thick and smelled like earth. There was a fine dust hanging; she could see it in the wand light and could feel it in her nose and mouth. It was gritty and foul. Quickly covering her nose with a robe sleeve, she brought Geoffrey's wand higher. There, in the dampness, she could see exactly where she was. This was the crypt that kept the bodies of the dead Lestranges. They lined the walls, some covered with clinging sheets of gauze, but most were exposed to her view. She looked around shakily; she was surrounded. In every direction there were bones laying in the claustrophobic walls or displayed on alters. Bones were nothing to be frightened of, but she felt very uneasy standing there amongst all the deceased. Empty sockets and open mouths, clawed hands and rotted flesh...it was as though they were all watching her trespass in their ever-so-still quiet. She backed away, found the door, and stumbled out as quickly as she could manage.

She bent low, resting her elbows on her knees as she heaved in fresher air. She spat on the ground, trying to rid her mouth of that awful sandy feeling. She couldn't help the shiver that ran up her spine as she collected herself. The smell and the eerie intensity had cohered to her –she was bathing in its unnatural disquiet. Feeling suddenly jittery, she ran faster than she had had the strength for earlier. Her icy feet slapped the stone floor, sending cold shockwaves up her legs. She turned a corner and then another, forgetting to mark where she had come from or where she was headed, then stopped abruptly when she heard voices. Extinguishing her wand, she held her breath and listened.

"—could be anywhere."

"We can't afford to lose any more time; the Draught is probably ruined by now and she'll have to start over."

"It could take hours to find her!"

"Yeah, well, he wants her now, so we better hurry."

Ginny could hear them getting closer and she bit her lip, waiting for them to lead her to Cindy.

"Here, this way," one man said to the other and Ginny listened intently for their voices. They must have turned a corner. She quickly found her breath and her feet, cautiously following their quieted speech. She followed them left and then straight, and then left again. It was hard not to stumble in the dark after them so she kept a good deal of distance. She had not yet seen them, but knew that she hadn't yet met the owners of the voices.

"It's this way, yeah?"

"Think so…yeah, this way, come on."

Ginny heard a door grate open and close, their voices muffled and gone. Scurrying toward the two doors down the hall, she listened intently at the first and, hearing nothing, listened at the next.

"—time to finish this."

"Get her up!"

Ginny swallowed hard and tightened her grip on the stolen wand, anxious tremors running through her. She had the element of surprise, but she was weak and nervous. Could she stun them both before they overpowered her? Taking a deep breath and placing her sweaty hand on the iron ring, she made her choice before she could change her mind.

Although Harry was a wizard, and a skilled one at that, he did nothing to banish the cold that was cutting through him as he waited. It had been at least thirty minutes, perhaps more, and he was nearly crawling out of his skin. Not only that, but today was November 25th, the day of his hearing. If he didn't attend, he would be put on probation and, perhaps, worse. Work, of course, was nothing in comparison to finding his wife, but the stress it added was acute. He'd been in legal trouble before when he was younger and that had been nothing to the trouble he'd be in now once he missed his hearing. It was just as well, as he still hadn't thought of a good explanation for his knowing about the Draught in the first place.

Harry's eyes scanned the darkened windows of Draco's mansion. He hated waiting in any instance, but this was more than he could tolerate. The pregnant minutes passed so slowly; it was torment.

"Right," he stated matter of factly, his eyes focused on the house, "he's had plenty of time. I'm Summoning him back."

"You'd commanded him to come straight back once he had the information", she reminded him. "He's probably not done."

"Kreature!" Harry said, ignoring Tonks. "Kreature!"

With a feeble crack, Kreature appeared, his dark eyes averting the Auror's gazes. "Stinking master called and so Kreature comes. What is it they wants, the spoilt mudblood lovers? Why don't they leave poor Kreature alone?"

"What do you know?" Harry demanded, ignoring his insults. "Is Ginny in there?"

"Kreature is finding no one…master," he said with distain.

Harry didn't believe it. "Who is inside? Is Malfoy in there?"

Kreature looked like he wanted to spit. "Kreature is finding no one, sir."

"We saw lights, Kreature," added Tonks, glaring down at him. The elf did not respond.

"I want to know who is in that house," Harry demanded, raising his hand as if to strike. "You tell me!"

Kreature's face twisted into a glower. His lips were pressed thin, his hands balled tightly into fists. "Master wants that Kreature search the house. Kreature finds only elves."

"Did you search the entire house?" Harry squinted at the offending structure, his anger boiling. "Did you look everywhere?"

"The noble Malfoy estate is large and Kreature was Summoned before finishing." Kreature looked happy to deliver the bad news.

Harry swore and Tonks shifted on her feet, worried.

"We've just wasted a half an hour on this worthless piece of shit!" He turned in a tight circle, clearly frustrated. "That's it, I'm going in. Are you coming Tonks?"

She looked uncomfortable. "That's breaking and entering, Harry." We don't have viable cause according the law."

Harry's mouth fell open. "You're serious! You know…never mind. Go home and tell Shacklebolt I won't be there for my hearing." Harry swore again, taking huge strides toward the house, not trying to hide in the least.

Tonks followed him quickly, hissing. "Harry, wait! What hearing? What's going on?"

"Just tell him!" he growled. Tonks stopped walking, staring at his back. Harry didn't care if he was being rash or even rude. He heard her Apparate after a few long seconds had passed. All he could hear now was the crunching snow beneath his feet and his angry bursts of breath. He hated the worthless, lying house elf. He always had, just as Sirius had detested the very sight of him. And Tonks! How could she spout to him about how much she wanted to avenge Remus then up and leave when she had her chance?

Harry stomped up the wide, elegant stairs and, four feet from the stately doors, blasted them open with a punctuated wave of his hand. They banged loudly, snow swirling into the dark expanse beyond; he followed the snow in.

The floor was marble, the ceiling high. All was dark and quiet. Harry looked carefully all around him. He strained his ears but heard nothing. Stepping to his left, his wand held high, he entered a parlor full of shadowy, bulky furniture. His eyes surveyed the unlit expanse but he saw nothing to grab his attention. A clock on the wall chimed. It was nearing five thirty. He'd wasted so much time! He didn't want to think about how much damage he'd inflicted on Ginny by simply standing around, waiting. He could have had her by now, if only he'd gone in when they'd first arrived.

Harry exited and walked down the hall, his feet making a slight squeak on the polished floor. Why hadn't anyone come to find him? He'd clearly forced his way in, yet it had been so simple. Malfoy hadn't put up any resistance at all…there hadn't been any protective spells to prevent intruders either. It was almost as though Malfoy had wanted Harry there, had wanted to draw him into a trap.

Harry looked behind him, all the more alert. He made his way down a hallway lined with covered portraits which, from the sounds of it, were all sleeping. His wand light allowed him to see only a portion of what was ahead of him, light befalling curtained portraits. Their heavy hangings were a deep green –everything about Malfoy screeches Slytherin, Harry thought– and he curled his lip at the reminder of Mrs. Black's portrait which still hung in Grimmauld Place. Soon, he came to an empty antechamber with two large and open rooms on either side of it. One room, Harry could see, contained a billiards table and what looked like a bar. Harry scanned the room carefully, his glasses slipping down his nose. He was sweating and tense, ready hex the first thing that moved. The room seemed empty, however, and so he made his way to the next room which seemed just as vacant as the rest of the house. Where are you hiding, Malfoy?

Harry swallowed and gripped his wand tighter, making his way back down the short hall and into the main entranceway. The stairs to the next level were across the overly-polished floor. Harry could see his reflection in the marble as he hurried to them, all the while annoyed that Malfoy was living in such a house as this when he should have been rotting away in prison. He deserves no less.

He took the stairs two at a time, bounding his ascent. He was trying to look around him in all directions at once, his eyes scanning, searching; his ears strained to hear anything other than the sound of his own footfalls. The stairs curved at the top, and although he could not see the landing, he did not slow down. He turned the corner and, before he knew it, before he could even react, he was blasted backward by a magical force. His body hit the banister behind him painfully before he crumpled and rolled down two, then three, then four stairs. He was seeing stars; he was fighting to stay conscious. The angled corners of each step left an agonizing imprint of itself on his neck, his back, his face, as he fell down more steps. Finally getting some sense, he reached out to slow his descent and was lucky enough to catch hold of the rapidly moving banister rungs. He righted himself as quickly as he could; his wand arm having been wrapped oddly in his cloak so that he had to yank it free. He pointed his wand at the top of the stairs, which were now a good seven feet away.

But instead of meeting Malfoy or a Death Eater, he leveled his eyes on a very angry-looking house elf.

"You is not allowed here, sir!" said the elf in a very high, squeaky voice. "You is not welcome! Get OUT!"

Although Harry knew elves could be very dangerous when defending those they were loyal to, he lowered his wand a bit. "Where is your master?" Harry asked, "You can tell him I'm here to repay an old debt." He scanned his surroundings. Malfoy was sure to have heard all that.

"Master is not here!" the elf replied, it's long, bony finger pointed dangerously at him. "Master is not coming back tonight."

Harry, of course, knew that house elves would say whatever they were commanded to, but for some reason, he believed its pronouncement. The manor did, indeed, seem empty. Something inside of him deflated slightly. He didn't know where Ginny was; he didn't know if he was even close to finding her.

In his momentary silence –ignoring the direct order from the elf to leave- he was blasted once more with a throbbing zap. He caught himself before he tumbled down the rest of the stairs, thankfully, on the handrail. That bloody well hurt. Holding in a groan, he glared at the house elf. He'd had quite enough of this.

"I says to get out and I means get out!"

Harry took a step toward the elf, his wand outstretched. "I'm looking for my wife," he said in a deadly calm voice. "You're precious master has stolen her. He's going to kill her."

The elf looked slightly alarmed at Harry's supposed resistance to its magic. Harry continued up the stairs, his eyes boring into the elf.

"You're going to tell me where your master went."

The elves ears fell slightly, its eyes narrowed.

Harry cast a shield charm just in time; the elf's silent sting hex bounced off smoothly and hit a portrait on the wall. The hole it left on the empty canvas was smoking.

The elf looked furiously at Harry. "You will leave now!" it said, and it charged.

Harry, ignoring its command, merely grabbed the elf by it's long ear and pulled forward. The elf toppled down the stairs and landed with a smack at the bottom.

Harry immediately froze the elf where it lay face up with a flick of his wrist; its little angry hands were balled into fists and its ugly teeth were bared. "Tell me where Malfoy went and I'll let you go," he said quietly, bending down on one knee. A pain shot up his knee, a residual effect from falling down the stairs, he was sure. "And I'll even forget that you just knocked me down the stairs. If not, I could always add your head to my collection on the wall." He meant it too. Serve the little bastard right.

"You is not welcome here!"

"Right," he said angrily, bringing his wand threateningly to the elf's neck.

"Tsk tsk." said a voice from somewhere behind him.

Harry whirled around, ready to throw a curse but saw no one there.

"Since when do noble Aurors terrorize helpless house elves?"

It was the portrait with the smoldering hole, but in it was someone very familiar to Harry: Phineas Nigellus. "You're not going to find what you're looking for here, Potter."

Harry strode quickly to the portrait. Phineas was leaning lazily against the frame, a smirk on his face. Harry had never hated him more at that moment. "Where's Malfoy?" he demanded.

"No idea," the portrait said with a shrug before examining his fingernails. Harry quickly lit his tip of his wand and held it to a corner of canvas, which got the provoking wizards attention.

"I'm in a bit of a hurry here," said Harry through his teeth. "If I were you, I'd hurry up and tell me what you know."

Phineas looked extremely galled that Harry would speak to him in such a manner. "You've always had a nasty temper, Potter. If I were you, I wouldn't shoot the messenger."

"Get on with it then!" Harry shouted, completely incensed. "What' message have you got for me?"

"Your wife," Phineas said slowly, "is just across the English Channel. If I were you, I wouldn't waste any more time."

Harry nearly doubled over in what felt like the beginnings of relief, but his temper swelled higher and drowned out any hopes he might have experienced. "Then this was all just a dead end trap!"

Phineas stared at Harry as he balled his fists tightly, fuming. "Dead ends are always such a waste of time, don't you think?"