I let the hours of the day waste away laying on top of the bed in Hermione's old room. I had mapped out the knots in the wooden planks of the ceiling, and shook out the bedding. I hadn't dared open the trunk of the deceased girl's personal items, feeling as though I was in part responsible for her death having been involved with her murderer.

I watched from the window as witches and wizards of all ages and styles came and left the property throughout the day. A few times I had to drop and hide as their eyes wandered to my window during conversations with each other. By the time the sun was setting there was a loud racket rising from downstairs as a hoard of resistance members collected for dinner. I could hear the slamming of cooking utensils and the smell of food.

I pressed my ear to the floor next to the entrance of my room in a weak attempt to eavesdrop. Ginny's earsplitting voice penetrated the air in varying volumes and I knit my eye brows together trying to decipher the cause of her angst, "-and you never come back for anyone. But you came back for her, that miserable Slytherin bitch. It's not like she didn't date him in Hogwarts willingly. We can't trust her."

"We can trust her, Ginny. She confided in Hermione and I at school, she was trapped then. We couldn't let him get away with this again," Harry spat back at her.

A chair was pushed back in a screech of wood against wood. I heard the callous, feminine voice of Pansy, "So we're supposed to believe that he just gave her up for Zabini? She's Malfoy's fucking prized possession. I agree with Ginny, something's off about this."

"Shut up!" Harry roared impatiently, "Both of you. She's trustworthy, and this is not a discussion. Besides, she's powerful and we need her help, especially now that our numbers are so low."

It was quiet for literally a second before I heard glass shatter, "You fancy her! And you're not thinking clearly." Ginny's voice was laced with jealousy and I scrambled from my doorway as I heard the onslaught of heavy foot steps hitting the stairs. She slammed a door on the second floor and the house was filled with uncomfortable murmuring.

"You do fancy her mate. Bit obvious innit?" I heard Ron mumbling feebly. I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat. This was bad, very bad. I wouldn't be able to regularly reject Harry's interest if he truly did have feelings for me. I would have to drag him along to keep my position within the Order given that he was the only person fighting to keep me there.

The ache in my heart throbbed as Draco's absence suddenly felt emphasized. It was another hour of eavesdropping through the floorboards on poor conversations before I heard more footsteps approaching. When they didn't stop on the second level I scattered backwards and sat on the bed trying to mask my panting.

The door opened without any hesitation. I stared at Ron in shock that he hadn't shown the decency to knock. He looked around the room pallidly before his dark blue eyes hovered on my face, "Dinners ready, if you wanted to come down." The words were icy and didn't feel like much of an invitation, and he disappeared as quickly as he had arrived not bothering to close the door behind him.

I slumped off of the bed, dreading facing all of the people who harbored so much hatred for me. It was no good to allow myself to starve and grow weak, and I would have to start speaking to them at some point in order to collect any useful information.

Down in the kitchen clustered even more people than earlier in the day and I baulked at the crowd sharing the small space. At least four people had bright red hair that I suspected were Weasley's; Ginny and Ron, and two identical taller boys who were ripping some kind of item out of each other's hands back and forth. Pansy was away from the rest of the members watching a blurry box television in the corner of the living room. She had her arms crossed over her chest and she leered at me with disgust when I reached the bottom stair.

Harry looked up from where he was passing out bowls next to a massive cooking pot. The soup within looked more like grey water in a puddle than food. He furrowed his eyebrows at where I'd stopped on the staircase, feeling unwelcome, "Madeleine, thanks for joining us," he said bluntly. A faint rosy glow appeared on his cheeks as both of the wispy twins chuckled suggestively at him.

I timidly stepped forward on the points of my toes in my small green dress. I was acutely aware that I was clean and in clothing that wasn't filled with holes, while the rest of them appeared homeless. The war had been taking it's toll on the young group of brave witches and wizards and I couldn't blame them for staring at me like a spoiled brat amongst them.

Harry handed me a bowl of what looked like rice in water with a bashful look, "I'm sorry it isn't much. We've been forced to pull food out of the bins. We were hoping to start using this land to farm, but when we lost Neville, we lost our only Herbologist." Around the room eyes fell to the floor in honor of their friend's death. The very one that I had witnessed first hand from only a few feet away.

I sat next to a beautiful girl with bright white hair and a goofy grin on her face at the table. Her big blue eyes were honed in on my movements intrusively and I shot her a quizzical reaction. "I'm a 'erbologist, I can 'elp. I just need seeds," I stated, stirring the excuse for soup around in circles while ignoring the gaze of the crazy girl next to me who was now leaning into my arm.

"That's splendid of you Madeleine," The girl blurted in a dollish voice. I tried not to huff at her weirdly friendly demeanor. I stared right back at her with concern as she sent me warm, personal smiles.

Harry grinned and his face turned to Ron's in verification of my usefulness, "Brilliant. Let's go out tomorrow."

Ron shook his head as he sat, ignoring Harry. He glared at me from across the table where he had plunked down next to Pansy who was making fake retching gestures at her soup. "That doesn't change anything, Malfoy," he snarled at me.

"Don't call her that," Harry growled from the head of the table.

"That's what she is after all, isn't she?" Ron clapped back. He was gripping his spoon so hard that the metal was beginning to bend the top backwards. "Sleeping with the bastard who killed Hermione. Hermione Harry, don't forget that Malfoy had his filthy fingers wrapped around her throat." The outrage dripped from his words but his voice had begun to quiver at the end of the sentence. My hand shot to my mouth and I dropped my spoon with a metallic clatter. He'd strangled the poor girl to death? The imagery in my mind made my stomach turn, picturing the strong fingers I had come to adore on my own skin choking the life out of an innocent girl.

Harry stood so quickly that the entire table shook, causing bowls of insipid water to slosh messily, "I haven't forgotten Hermione, Ron! Don't you forget that she wanted to save Madeleine from Malfoy. This was her wish too. The least you can do is respect her efforts to rescue her and shut the fuck up." I covered my face with my hands in horror as a girl with long brown hair began to sob a few chairs down from me.

Pansy spun her spoon around loosely, "We always could get revenge for Hermione by gutting this bitch and tying her body up to the Malfoy Manor gate. I'd pay to see Draco's reaction when he comes out and finds it." She had a wicked grin on her face that made her look completely insane.

I stood, shaking. I'd heard enough and I no longer had an appetite. The pretty girl next to me tugged gently at the hem of my dress in an attempt to encourage me back down into my chair. She stared up at me like a tiny kitten filled with unusual wonderment, "Don't listen to Pansy. She just wants to scare you, she's really quite tame."

I gasped down at her, having reached my limit with her oddities, "I-I want to go to my room."

"Must be nice to have a whole room to yourself," Pansy sneered, "Fucking princess."

I ripped away from the fingers of the girl next to me as tears started brimming in my eyes. They all watched me push the old wooden chair back and then I was running for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"Great job Ron, you've traumatized her even more," I heard Harry say in irritation. I ran to Hermione's room and shut the door. Then I pushed the bulky trunk up against it knowing full well that they could hear the scraping on the thin floor boards. Throwing the covers over my head I wept quietly, feeling mortified that I was in her bed. The Order members left me alone for the rest of the night, ignoring my selfish weeping. It took everything that I had not to dissapparate back to the Manor or anywhere else at all.

I was awoken with the rise of the sun early in the morning. The shack-like conditions of the building provided very few basic comforts - one including a lack of curtains - and the room was awash with invasive golden light. Everything smelled very dusty and I was shivering under the thin blanket that I had. My back was being stabbed by metal box spring coils and I groaned in aggravation, rolling away from the jutting metal.

My eyes slid to my wand which was hanging on to the edge of the table by a thread from the sloping of the flooring. I wanted to leave - I knew it was pitiful, but I'd already experienced what felt like a lifetime of abuse and devastation. What I needed was my family, not to continue being surrounded by cruel people who acted like they knew me, or knew what was best for me, but consistently just exposed me to misconduct and toxicity.

I couldn't disapparate across entire countries, but I could get daringly close to the underwater tunnel that led across the Straight of Dover to France, or perhaps an airport where I could use the invisibility cloak to get onto a flight. I rubbed at my face, genuinely contemplating the thought. Once I was across the border I would be instantly under the protection of the French Ministry. I was tired and as Harry had pointed out, traumatized repeatedly.

I decided to make my way to the window. I would remain in the green dress from the day before for the sake of stretching out it's use. The farm didn't seem to have adequate washing facilities given the state of everyone else's clothing and I only had maybe a week's worth of outfits packed.

I sighed and hung my head back knowing that I couldn't just abandon the ruthless Order members. Even though only two of them had shown me kindness - that being Harry and the mentally unstable girl - it would mean essentially condemning them all, and abandoning Draco as well. I'd promised to not invalidate his trust again, and even though I was beginning to feel overwhelmed by everyone including him, I still had some kick in me. I had only given it one day at the safehouse, after all.

The wild flowers surrounding the building rolled out like a pink carpet for quite a distance, then dotted away into bare fields of soil. The land was uncomplex, flat and monotonous with the shade of the flowers and a nearby river behind the windmill.

I decided it would be more peaceful for everyone at the property if I spent the morning outside of the main building assessing the terrain for growing conditions in comparison to hanging around the house. The Order members would have a riot picking up where they'd left off with their bullying last night.

After I'd brushed out my silky hair and put on a fresh cloak I plucked up the courage to go down the stairs, wincing at the loud creaking of the decrepit treads. Downstairs on the main level only a single person was in the kitchen stirring tea in a mug. One of the twin boys who was probably a Weasley looked up with a mild gaze as I entered.

I nodded to him, fearing that his disposition towards me would mirror his sibling's. He just followed me with his eyes looking very amused, "Well then, you're pretty brave for a Slytherin. Was totally expecting you to hide in your room all day again after that little show last night." He sent me a sideways grin and sipped at the hot water in his cup.

I crossed my arms defensively, "I'm not in de mood today." When he just kept sipping and staring I tugged at my silver boots by the doorframe in irritation.

He set the mug down and smiled at me gently, "Now now kiddo, no need to twist up your knickers at seven in the morning. Did I say that I agreed with them?" He was clad in a yellow and blue plaid shirt and grimy blue jeans.

I let my eyes fall to the floor as my throat tightened. I didn't want to cry but the possibility that he was actually being nice was throwing me for a loop.

He held his hand out to me, "George Weasley, and you are Madeleine. What is it that we should call you for a last name?" I took his hand as he winked at me and I felt relief coursing through my veins. He was very tall, grinning down at me and had a warm energy about him.

I had no idea how to answer that so I went with the safe option. "Desrosiers," I replied. Saying my given surname out loud was oddly satisfying. I'd lost that part of my identity. Having to deal with people calling me Malfoy or Mrs. Malfoy for so many months had been upsetting.

"Ooh Parisian, the pleasure is all mine," he said teasingly and I almost gaped at him. He dropped my hand as I backed up a few feet feeling sheepish.

"Thank-thank you," I grumbled and then I awkwardly turned and went out the door before anything could go wrong with the interaction. I shook out my hands as I walked through the flowers now feeling ridiculous. The sun was bright in my eyes and I squinted. The environment was sweetly scented and the morning was warm. May had come in a rush, and with it the promise of new opportunities.

When I'd sufficiently spent an hour evaluating the soil profiles of the open spaces outside of the range of the flowers my dress was muddy and my face was hot from the sun's rays. I had probably already began a sun burn. The soil was rich and dark and it would take well to agricultural applications if done correctly. I would need to get seeds for hardy and rooty varieties of foods that could overwinter in a storage room, like potatoes and carrots. My eyes fell on the old windmill which was rotating behind the farm, curious if it would be an acceptable temporary silo.

I made my way back towards it and circled the vertical structure looking for a doorway. The creek a few dozen meters away was gurgling quite loudly as it plowed over rounded rocks with the increased spring run off. Bricks were laid in a perfect circular tunnel up to the top of the windmill, showing off their complementary color palette in the glistening morning rays.

When I found a tiny white door that was ajar my senses told me that someone was probably inside and I rolled my eyes, expecting there to be another awful interaction. The interior of the building was wooden and archaic. There were gears, wells, pulleys and tables. A set of winding stairs led to the higher levels which were mainly comprised of unsteady scaffolding, and sprinkled amongst the original features of the old mill were tiny cots. It was breezier than the main cottage and the floor was moist and cold.

I shriveled my nose in disconsolation at the thought that people were sleeping in such a horrible space. My eyes fell on a blur of ivory locks located at the farthest table. It was the nutty girl with the long white hair from the dinner before, and she had a magnifying glass focused directly at me. I raised my eyebrows at her bold behavior.

"Hello Madeleine. How are you doing today?" She asked in a childishly high tone and I wearily approached her, twisting a flower stalk in my fingers.

"I'm fine," I answered curtly, "What are you doing?"

She lowered the magnifying glass and the size of her left eye returned to it's normal scale. She was wearing a filthy pink dress with a high white collar. She smiled at me with her usual dopey expression, "You're aura has gotten worse, you know. But there's also signs of new life in you. Have you tried meditation?" I furrowed my eyebrows together at the cryptic message as I twirled the blossom around before me.

"No, I never 'ave. Et 'as gotten worse since when?" Had this strange girl also known me in a previous life that had been removed from my memory? She placed the magnifying glass down on the table very slowly.

The door behind me slammed open on it's hinges and Ginny walked in. Her face darkened when she noticed my presence, "Oh. You're in here. Nevermind then, Luna. We'll talk later." She pursed her lips at Luna who seemed entirely unaffected by their change of plans and then Ginny was gone, leaving the door wide open much the same way her brother had done to my private quarters. Cool air now blew in unbarred and I shivered.

I glanced back at Luna who had much the same appearance as someone who'd just consumed heavy psychedelics. She just kept talking to me as though Ginny had not entered and verbally slapped me with hatred. "I realize you couldn't possibly remember this, but you and I were acquaintances at Hogwarts. You were sick then too. Has my cousin been helping you through your state of obliviation?" Her eyes were hazy and far off.

I sat down across from her and chewed at my nail. Draco had been helping me through it, but not that she needed to know that information. "Cousin? Malfoy is your cousin?" Her features did match his; the pale complexion, icy white hair, bright blue eyes. There was another Malfoy at the safe house? Perhaps they were keeping her drugged to tame her. She didn't seem threatening at all in her current condition and I watched her face for any indication that she was hostile or arrogant. She simply gave me a sleepy grin.

"Oh yes, although, our families have been fallen out for quite some time. It's a shame; he's such a complex boy, Draco. He's not what anyone expects him to be." Her eyes widened momentarily as she waited for me to reply.

"No, I suppose he's...not?" I responded nervously. I had to be careful not to reference anything personal. For all I knew, she was faking her insanity just to get me to admit something. "What es your take on 'im?"

Her eyes wandered around the ceiling, "Hmm, he's always fighting against the expectations of others, and he doesn't really know who he is anymore. What a terrible way to live. He's lucky to have you."

I traced my fingers on the wooden grains of the table below me, unable to respond and feeling sick inside. Perhaps Luna was right, but it wasn't as though many would agree with it. I had a distinct feeling that only a handful of people in the world understood what Draco was going through. Her words were exceptionally fearless considering she was in the company of the Order, and I wondered how she wasn't hated as much as I was.