Chapter 25

I quietly shut the door to the apartment—my apartment, although that was still taking some getting used to—and flipped the hood of my cloak over my head before stepping out onto the deserted street. Night had fallen hours ago, making it difficult for me to see, but more importantly, difficult for other people to see me.

It was mid-fall. Nearly half a year after Dumbledore had fallen. That night had easily been one of the scariest and most unpredictable of my life. Nothing had gone according to plan.

That was an unusual feeling, absolutely nothing going according to my plans. I usually got at least ninety-five percent of it correct.

But, that was life, I suppose.

Severus Snape, who had somehow known where in the castle we were, had cast the first Killing Curse, the green light streaking by me and hitting Dumbledore in the chest. The old wizard had tumbled over the railing of the Astronomy Tower, his already dead corpse spinning toward certain doom.

Dumbledore's fall had acted as enough of a distraction that I'd gotten a last-second reprieve of my death sentence. Bellatrix had seen me move, had spotted my intentions to turn on them, and had cast a curse at me, but by that time I'd already summoned my broom and was merely biding time by dueling her.

Moments after the Headmaster's fall, I'd heard the sound of a broom in flight—like the sound of thousands of rustling leaves—and jumped off the tower, following the elder wizard in a headlong hurtle to the ground. I'd flung out one of my hands and grabbing hold of my broom stopped my fall. Hoisting myself onto it, I flashed across the night's sky, soaring through the Dark Mark that had been erected above the Astronomy Tower, and away from the destruction.

A part of me I wished Ginny had been there to see the bit with the broom, she would have been impressed. But she was safely in the Room of Requirement and that was how it had to be.

Now, I trekked from my hiding place in Hogsmeade to a local pub—the Hog's Head. I nudged the heavy wooden door open, lifting my hood off my face when I saw the place was deserted, and climbed a set of stairs set in the far corner of the bar.

On the second floor sat an elder man, his blue eyes and grey beard reminding me of the Headmaster's whose death I'd witnessed. He lifted his head as I wandered into the room and gestured gruffly to the painting of the young girl that sat on the wall.

I gave him a short nod and crossed the room to the painting. Aberforth and I had an agreement—he let me use the portrait to gain access to the school so long as I didn't bother him.

Ginny had been the one to ask the Room of Requirement for an escape route. It had happened to lead her to the Hog's Head—and to Albus Dumbledore's brother.

I don't think that was a coincidence.

She'd told him we were plotting revenge on the ones who'd killed his brother. He'd insisted he doesn't care, but I secretly think he does. After all, he tolerates me tromping through his home in the dead of night.

I don't think he's entirely convinced that he isn't just facilitating hormone-driven midnight trysts between teenagers, however.

I'm not entirely convinced of that either.

Swinging the portrait open, I climbed inside and began the dark walk to Hogwarts.

Soon enough, I was pressing against the back of another portrait. The walk seemed to grow shorter each time I made it. The portrait swung open to reveal Ginny, Blaise, and Pansy sitting in the Room of Requirement.

Almost as if no time had passed at all.

But time had passed. And I'd left them to suffer the abuses of the Death Eaters without me.

As I walked into the room, I could see the changes that had occurred, although I'd spotted them long ago, at the beginning of this semester, when Blaise and Pansy had begun our seventh year without me.

They all looked exhausted. But it was Ginny's appearance—disheveled and bruised—that really curdled my blood.

My eyes trained on the bruises on her wrists, where she'd clearly been restrained, I asked, my voice flat, "Who did this?"

She didn't answer, instead her voice was cautious as she said my name, as if it was a warning, "Draco…"

I turned from her and focused my eyes on Blaise, silently waiting for him to answer.

His golden eyes focused on mine for a second before he looked away and his face tugged into a frown, "Who do you think? It was those fucking Carrows." His shoulders raised and then dropped in a shrug, careless, as if it was something that happened all the time. Nothing of consequence.

Which it was, in a way. Hogwarts had changed.

They'd all changed. Blaise's golden eyes had become dark, turning to a bronze color that didn't shine nearly as bright. His bloodlust seemed intensified, as if he was hardly able to restrain himself at times. Pansy hadn't said a word since I'd entered the room. She'd drawn into herself and I found that I actually missed the acidic wit she'd flung at me in our previous encounters.

And Ginny. My Ginny. Her beautiful hair hung limp, her nails were chewed to the quick. When was the last time I'd seen her smile? I couldn't even remember. Certainly before Snape had taken over the school. And there she sat, with bruises ringing her wrists as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

And there I stood, feeling as if I could murder the Carrows with my bare hands.

"You were supposed to take care of her, Blaise." My voice was a growl, clawing at my throat as the words climbed out, accusing.

Blaise barely flicked his eyes up to meet mine before he turned away and stared out into the air around us, as if he saw something truly fascinating there. He didn't answer.

"That's not fair, Draco," Ginny cut in, her voice defensive. "He can't save me from them. They're going after all of us now."

All of them?

I flicked my gaze to Pansy questioningly. She didn't even bother to look at me, shifting under the weight of my scrutiny. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater further over her wrists and I suspected that there were bruises identical to Ginny's hidden beneath its grey fabric.

"Why are they torturing the Slytherins?" I demanded, my voice urgent.

Ginny was silent for a moment, as if considering whether or not to respond with the truth. But she finally did, her voice soft, "They want to know who helped you double cross Voldemort."

Well, fuck.

It was only a matter of time before they knew it was Blaise and Pansy.

And then, eventually they would find Ginny.

I had to get them out of the castle.

"What's Dumbledore's Army doing about it?" I questioned Ginny.

She shrugged, "About as much as we can do. Graffiti on the walls, recruitments. Occasionally we break kids out of detention, but it's difficult." She gave a harsh laugh that was grating to my ears, "Especially when nearly the entire D.A. is being held in the dungeons."

The dungeons were where the detentions—really a code word for torture—were held now.

There was literally no help coming for them. Ginny's entire family was in hiding. She wasn't allowed to owl them. Blaise and Pansy's parents were on the wrong side of the war.

It was all up to me.

The next time I saw them, they were even more drastically changed.

Blaise sat in a chair, muttering to himself the entire time. Pansy didn't bother to look at me, instead curled against a wall, her back to it so she could see the entire open room. And Ginny, my Ginny. Someone had taken a knife to her face, slicing it open along her cheekbone.

I felt my blood boiling, but knew revenge was not on the menu tonight. Maybe someday in the future.

I pointed to the portrait on the wall. "Go."

"We can't, Draco." Ginny's voice was small. Terrified.

And I felt my stomach drop in response. Ginny was never afraid. She was reckless. Bold. Fearless. Bravery was her middle name, valiance her maxim. She wasn't capable of feeling fear; it wasn't something she'd ever known.

And that's how I knew things were really bad in the castle.

"You're leaving and you're doing it now. Even if I have to Imperio all three of you, I swear to god you aren't spending another fucking night in this godforsaken castle." My words were pure rage, my pronunciation venom. I spat the words at them, pointing my wand from their three fragile bodies to the portrait and back again.

Ginny stood first, nodding, and motioned for the other two to follow. They did slowly, Blaise muttering to himself all the while. I followed, closing the portrait shut behind me with a vow in my heart to return with vengeance.