Note: Ooooh. Old friends? Hmm.. Thanks for the reviews and welcome to my new followers! Hope you enjoy it. xoxo C.


Ginny had gotten little to no sleep the night before, pulling herself from bed with tired, red-rimmed eyes. The dark half circles on her face and the dazed look in her eye faded slightly with a few cups of coffee and a long, hot shower.

Her heels clicked on the marble floor, a long ponytail swaying with each step. When she came to the Editor's door, she smoothed her skirt before she knocked. "Come in."

"Dean?" Ginny pushed open the door, taking a seat in one of the chairs across the desk from Dean Thomas. "Do you have a moment?"

"For you?" he asked with a laugh, "I suppose I could move some things around. How's that story coming along?"

"That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about," Ginny paused. She knew what she wanted to say, but wasn't sure how to approach it, knowing that it was incredibly dangerous to ask. "I'm getting a lot of really great information, but.."

"But, what? Is something wrong?"

"I just feel that if I could speak to her under different conditions, our meetings might be more, I don't know, effective," Ginny asked, her voice steady and even. She knew the likelihood of her request being met wasn't very high.

Dean's jaw tightened a little, confusion in his eyes. He had heard her words, but surely he must have misunderstood. She couldn't possibly be asking to-

"I want permission to escort her somewhere other than Azkaban," Ginny said, her words tight and clipped; it was more than a request, it was nearly a command.

"You know that isn't possible," Dean shook his head.

"I think I can get more out of her if I could just give her some form of comfort, that's all. It's dreadful in there," she explained. "It's dark, and damp, and cold. I can't get to the truth with all of that playing against me."

"Gin, I just don't know if we have that kind of clearance," he sighed. He knew that arguing with her was useless, but no matter how much he wanted to help her, there were some rules that simply could not be bent.

"I just need one day, Dean," her bright brown eyes pleading with him. "For me?"

The desperation in her eyes made his chest tighten. He stared at her for a long time before he exhaled. "Fine," he sighed. "You have my approval on this, but it won't be enough."

Ginny's heart rose and fell again within moments, confused. "Well.. what do I need, then?"

"You'll have to get Ministry approval."

"Okay.." she nodded slowly, thinking. That shouldn't be too difficult. "How exactly can I do that?"

Dean sighed, not wanting to let her down. "You're going to have to speak with the head of the Department of Security."

"You're joking," Ginny almost laughed. "You can't possibly think that Malfoy is going to let me transport her anywhere."

"She's his aunt," Dean shrugged, "He might surprise you. I'm sorry, Gin, but he's the best chance you've got. The only other option would be going over his head, straight to Jordan."

"The Minister? That's my only other option?" she asked, her heart dropping. There was no way that Malfoy would agree to the transfer. It was dangerous, and last she'd heard, he was just as happy as everyone else so see Bellatrix placed behind bars.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, that's the best I can do."

"I understand. Thank you for your time, Dean," she sighed, standing and outstretching a hand. Dean rose, shaking her hand before hurrying to open the door for her.

"Be careful in there, Wea- Potter," he corrected himself. It was a slip up he hadn't made in years, but it still seemed to embarrass and fluster him. "I wouldn't have given you this job if I didn't think you capable."

Ginny nodded her thanks, deflated as she left the office. As the door clicked closed behind her, she ran over the next conversation that she was going to have in her mind. It wasn't going well. She turned down the hallway, heading to the elevator.
"Level Four: Department of Public Services," the tinny voice came through the loudspeakers immediately as she ducked out of the way of an aeroplane that zipped into the lift. Ginny pressed the button, leaning back against the wall as the lift lurched.

After a few abrupt halts and changes in direction, the voice announced again, "Level Two: Department of Security."

Ginny stepped out of the lift, deliberate steps echoing as she followed the signs. After a few turns down different halls, she came to a set of double doors that opened to a large cirular room with the same wood paneling as in the hall and the same marble that went throughout the building.

A thin, pale woman looked up from her writing as Ginny approached the desk. "Mr. Malfoy isn't taking any new appointments today," she said, her voice high but lazy. Her brown blue eyes and red hair reminded Ginny of Susan Bones, but that's where the similarities ended. Ginny's eyes fell on the nameplate: Regina Scamandar. 'She must be related to Rolf,' she thought.

Ginny hadn't spoken to the Scamandar family in years, not since they'd moved to Bulgaria to be closer to their sons while they were in school at Durmstrang. But she remembered Rolf talk about his younger sister before.

"Excuse me?" she asked, sounding somewhat annoyed. "I said, I can put you down for next Thursday at the earliest."

Ginny's eyebrows raised slightly, not pleased at all with the way the young woman was speaking to her. "Look," she said curtly. "I'm going in to see him now, and you can either allow it, or take it up with the Minister himself." The empty threat fell off of her tongue before she could stop it and she hoped that Regina didn't call her bluff.

"The Minister approved this meeting?" Regina asked, disbelief in her voice.

"Yes," Ginny straightened, her jaw clenched tight. "And if you don't let me in to see Mr. Malfoy today, I can assure you, Jordan won't be happy to hear about it."

The red head pursed her lips before sighing slightly, slumping back into her chair. "Alright, fine. Go ahead. But make it quick," she snapped, focusing her attention back on her paperwork. "He's got more important people to see today."

Relief washed over her as she headed for the large, ornate door on the back wall of the room. She'd only spoken to Draco Malfoy a handful of times since Hogwarts, and that was entirely intentional. But now she feared that the divide might cause her trouble in getting the one thing she needed.

She knocked on the door slowly. "Come in!"

The voice sounded almost cheery and it caught her off guard initially. She opened the door, stepping onto a hardwood floor in a bright room with large windows paintings hanging on the back wall. Draco stood behind a walnut desk, confusion plain on his face.

"Ginevra Potter.." he asked, though his voice was not nearly as harsh and cold as she remembered. "Well, you're certainly not whom I was expecting," he admitted, gesturing to the seat across from him. "But welcome, just the same. What brings you in today?"

"I stopped in to see an old friend," she said, though the tones in her voice fell flat. "Do I need an excuse for that?"

"Let's not be rude, Ginny," Draco chastised as he took his seat. "I only ask because the only times I've seen you in the past twenty years have been our brief encounters at King's Cross when we're dropping off the children."

He was being so... kind. It was strange. It wasn't who she expected at all. But it didn't truly surprise her as much as it might have a six months ago. She'd realized in her assignment that people are largely who they are because of their situation and the people they're surrounded by.

Draco might have always had the capacity to be this kind and polite if it hadn't been for an impending war breathing down his neck. If his father and everyone else he was close to hadn't forced him to grow up so quickly, hadn't pushed him into making choices he didn't want to make, he might have always been a decent human being. It was a revelation that was only visible to her because of her newly acquired knowledge.

It was entirely possible that, in the years that she'd given him no more than a nod or an empty greeting, he'd changed, and all the evidence that she currently had suggested that that was exactly the case. In fact.. he was being pleasant. The hiss that had accompanied his voice for so long in all those years that she'd known him before had seemed to fade away entirely.

One thing was certain, no matter how much she might hate to admit it: Draco had changed. Maybe there was a chance after all.

"I apologize," she said, sincerely. "I know I've been less than kind to you in the past."

"That was not entirely your fault, Ginevra, and you shouldn't burden yourself with idle worries. I assure you, I've got my fair share of remorse as well," he said gently. He looked much more like his father now, though he did not keep his hair long as Lucius had.

He seemed wise behind his mask, eying her as though he already knew everything there was to know about her. His words were calm and easy, like water in a lazy, winding river lapping against the sides of a dock. His eyes looked tired but understanding, and everything about his presence made her want to sit up straighter, to be more poised than she usually was. As strange as it was to admit, he reminded her, oddly, of Dumbledore.

"I am curious, however, as to what has brought you into my office today."

Ginny looked down at her hands for a moment before she met his eyes. She hated this new Draco, no matter how kind he might be. It made her feel guilty for the years that she'd spent despising him, for all the terrible thoughts she'd had about him, for the anger she'd quietly nursed for the 'traitor' as he'd slowly climbed the ladder to becoming head of the Department of Security.

"I came to see.. to ask.." the words refused to form on her tongue. They tasted like dishwater and stung like alcohol. "I need a favor."

"A favor?" he asked. It wasn't in the smug voice that she'd been expecting. He seemed to be genuinely interested, and admittedly, he probably was. He knew, as well as most people, that she'd been frequenting the high security area of Azkaban prison, and knew that she'd been speaking with his aunt. What could little gryffindor Ginny Weasely need from him?

"I need permission to transport your Aunt."

"My aunt?" Draco asked, obviously surprised. Whatever he'd anticipated, this was not it. "Transport her where, Ginny?"

"You know that I've been interviewing Bellatrix for a few weeks now. And I want to question her here," she said. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, but she was careful to keep her face composed. It could fall apart right here. If Draco didn't approve her request, she wasn't sure that she would be able to return. Ginny was fairly certain that she wouldn't be able to face Mrs. Lestrange in such a cold and threatening environment with this new information she'd discovered.

She wondered if Draco knew he had a cousin, if there was any way that he might know of the girl just a year older than himself that had died when they were children. It made sense that he would, but she didn't think it wise to ask.

"Here? At the Ministry? Why do you want to move her?" he asked, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. He leaned forward as he spoke, his voice lowering as he questioned her. "You know how dangerous she is, Ginevra. I hope that you of all people have not been lured into a false sense of security with her. She'll play you like a fool if you aren't cautious."

"She's different," Ginny burst, not able to hold it in any longer.

"People change, I understand that," he said, his eyes begging her to understand. "I understand that better than most people. But there are some parts of people that can go dark. And once that happens, it is impossible to let the light back in. I watched it happen to my father, to many of my friends. I don't think it's wise for you to continue visiting Bellatrix."

Draco eyed her carefully, his eyes warmer than she would have ever thought possible. "There is a reason that she is in the highest security available this side of the Atlantic Ocean. There's a reason that she will never see sunlight again."

"I know about Catherine."

Draco's small smile dropped from his face, recognition sparking in his eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed, the moments between the ticking of the clock seeming to expand. The silence was long as he organized his mind and calculated his words. "How do you know about her?"

"It's not important-"

"How do you know about Catherine?" he boomed, his fist slamming into the desk. The facade was gone, seventeen year old Draco had returned, scared and angry. His eyes were growing red at the edges, his knuckles white on balled fists. "Tell me!"

"I went to Black Manor. I found her birth certificate," Ginny said, her voice soft. She wanted desperately for the kind, calm Draco that she'd hated three seconds before to return. She wanted him to wipe the anger from his face, replace it with the careful, sculpted grin of an old miser. "I saw pictures of her."

"What do you want? Take it to the papers? You want to make them out to be neglectful parents that just let their daughter die?" he accused. Was he protecting the Lestranges? "They loved her! You wouldn't know that though, would you?" Draco asked, his voice angry again.

Ginny was quiet. She knew it was selfish, but she wondered suddenly how much Draco would tell. She thought that if she let him talk, he might spew plenty on his own. And if she remembered anything about him from school, his tongue would betray him soon enough.

"They took care of her. They did everything they could. You think you know everything because you've been questioning Bellatrix for a few days? You think that you understand her life because you have your little notepad of preconceived ideas?" He shook his head, his jaw clenched tight.

"You don't know anything about them. You can't know the way they used to be," he was nearly shouting now. "You don't know them like I knew them! You will never know them like I know them!"

It was his family, some of his only remaining family, and crazy or not, they were his blood. It was only natural Draco would want to defend them. And if she'd learned anything about him from their years in school, it was that he wasn't the cruel person he wanted people to think he is. He was absorbed with making sure people saw him that way, or at least he used to be. But in truth, she didn't know anything about who he really was. And it was entirely within the realm of possibility that he was a good person that loved and missed his family.

"I want to move her here to talk about Catherine and Ayanna Zabini," Ginny said sweetly, using his pain to her advantage. It felt wrong to manipulate him, but in truth, the end that she was working towards was good. "I don't want her to be in that place when I talk about what I can only believe are some of the best memories she has. I don't want her in that place when she tells me about her daughter."

Draco watched her face carefully. He rose, and walked behind her. Was he showing her out? She sighed, defeated. Then she heard the cabinet drawer slide open, the sound of folders and files being moved and shuffled. The drawer closed and slow steps walked back towards them.

Draco sat down, writing quickly on a form. He stood when he had finished, walking around in front of the desk.

"Don't hurt her. She was a good woman before. I think you'll see that if you try to find it," he said, holding the papers out to her.

"Is this-"

"The approval. You may interview her in our interrogation rooms here as often as you'd like for the next seven days. My only stipulation is that she be escorted by the guards to and from the room, and that the doors be locked while you are in the room," he nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Ginny said, standing. She was elated; she'd done it. She got the approval, she could bring Bellatrix to the Ministry. She started for the door, pausing as she turned the knob. "Thank you, Draco."

He smiled. He actually smiled. "Just don't make me regret it." As Ginny opened the door he called out, "Ginevra? Tell her I've missed her."

"Absolutely."