Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series. Nor do I own my favorite line from all of the Harry Potter movies that you will see pop up later in this chapter. I do however very much so own the last line of this chapter! That one is mine, mine, mind all mine!

Well, finals went about as well as they could and as far as I know I passed all my classes! Yay me! So, to celebrate the ending of my freshman year of college, I decided to give you the biggest and best of all the chapters so far! Well, biggest at least. I'll leave the 'best' of them decision up to you. I do believe it is the longest I've ever written. Boy, did it take a long time!

Now, I decided to try and new technique for this chapter I've never done before. Instead of Draco just explaining to Ginny what happened, I put in memories. After you read it, I'd like your opinion on if you liked it or not. Did I do it okay?

Well, thanks to each and every one of you that read and even more so those who reviewed. I love you guys! I hope to hear from you again after this awesome chapter!

I'm not going to make this author note long seeing as the chapter already is long enough. Enjoy the read and tell me what you think!

Without further ado:

Chapter 52

Draco POV

Ginny and I sat on the workbench in her father's muggle knickknacks shed for an immeasurable amount of time as I recounted the long and painful story of the last five months. "I'm sure you remember the day I first didn't show back up," I murmured in her ear, holding her close to me as I closed my eyes and thought back on that day.

Five months earlier…

I'd been pacing around my quarters for nearly an hour before my father finally called on me for us to appear at the meeting. I strode with my head held high, smirk upon my lips, down to the great hall of the Manor. The doors swung open at our approach, revealing the long table already filled with Death Eaters. The Dark Lord himself already sat at the head of the table, the two chairs on either side of him open for my father and me.

Taking my set with the ease that was demanded of façade, I reclined back in my chair as if I wasn't sitting next to the evilest and most vile man in existence. The air of arrogance I gave off was greeted with a few answering smirks and glint of approval from my father sitting across from me. Finally, all his numbers being accounted for, the Dark Lord began to speak.

"As I'm sure you all are aware," he began in his smooth, dark voice, "we have been losing a great deal of our fights with that lowly rebel group who call themselves the Order of the Phoenix." He took the time to look at everyone in turn with a searching gaze that could make a grown man who'd never done ill in his life squirm in his seat. When he turned to look at me, I did not hold his gaze long when his eyes met mine, but it wasn't with guilt that I looked away from him. I did not want to seem as if I were challenging him.

"Now, I've called upon you all today to ask you why that is," he continued, his voice as calm as if he were discussing tomorrow's chance of rain. But under the calm, I could sense the storm brewing, his anger seething and building. The same mask of calm he put on was the one my father was so fond of. I learned to see through it many, many years ago. This was not going to be a good meeting.

Nobody spoke as he paused, glancing around the room again for guilty faces. I too let my gaze sweep the table, as if too searching for a guilty party. "I do not think so lowly of many of you that I doubt your abilities." His gaze landed on my father who answered with a smirk. Oh yes, he was a master at torture. "So, I am in search of an explanation as to why, time after time, you all fail me."

Once again, not a sole at the table spoke as he paused to yet again search for a guilty face. And again, I held my mask of arrogance, the mask I'd grown up perfecting, in place. He did not find any guilt in my features because of that mask. But it wasn't guilt I was feeling underneath that mask, it was fear. Not fear for myself, but fear for Ginny. If the Dark Lord were to somehow find out that I was the leak, that I had betrayed him, he would go out of his way to find who I'd leaked too. Putting on a calm front, I leaned back in my chair, looking around me. No, he would not find out.

Finally, he started to speak again. "Now I have my suspicions as to what could be causing these," he paused, as if searching for the right word, "unfortunate events. Only those in this room are privileged enough to know my plans, plans that it would seem the Order of the Phoenix somehow got a hold of." He paused yet again and I prayed that my mask would not slip and show my true feelings.

"If there is any lingering doubt for some of the slower one in this room," he glanced over towards Crabbe and Goyle Sr., "let me explain what this means. This means that someone is telling the Order of the Phoenix my plans, someone in this room. There is a spy among us." The anger in his voice was no so well hidden this time and nearly everyone at the table shivered in fear.

It was then I saw the looks on the faces of one after another of those sitting at the table: the fear and surprise, the anger and cowardice, the obvious look of someone whose mind was being invaded. The Dark Lord was determined to find his spy, even if that meant going thought the mind of every man and woman in this room.

I had been prepared for this. All my life, my father taught me how to block the invasion of the mind or how put push things away from a prying mind. Blocking him though would not be wise. Instead, I brought to the forefront memories that did not contain Ginny. Those memories he could not be allowed to see, I sealed away in the back of my mind. Putting around them every mental protection I could, I protected them and prepared myself for his invasion.

One by one the Dark Lord sifted through the minds of his followers. When his attention finally turned to me, I was ready for him. The familiar feel of another's mind meeting mine made me shiver internally. His mind was not a nice one to come into contact with. At first, my mind resisted the invasion, a natural instinct from years of living with my father, but I relaxed the barriers and let him in. I acted every bit the willing servant.

The dark presence of his mind overwhelmed mine and I was barely able to contain the memories of Ginny in a safe place. Image after image flashed through my mind: the halls of Hogwarts, a Quidditch match, Blaise and I taunting first years. Finally more recent memories came forth. First was one before a battle, pacing my room and holding my Death Eater mask, another of a battle, my stunning spell just brushing past an Order member.

Then the horrible day I got my Dark Mark. Brought to the forefront of my mind was the quilt when I killed the woman, soon overwhelmed by the pain of the mark. Memory after memory flashed though my head as the Dark Lord searched for any clue of my unfaithfulness. Upon finding nothing incriminating, his mind withdrew from my own and I let out a sigh of relief at having passed his inspection of my memories.

Soon after I had regained my mental strength, having used much of my power to hold at bay the memories of Ginny, the Dark Lord stood up. "I have found nothing but the cowards among us. I am still not convinced to everyone's innocence, though," he whispered in a deadly voice. "One of you has betrayed me. And you will pay."

I let out a sigh and held Ginny a bit closer. "He tightened security that night," I told her, brushing the hair away that had fallen from behind her ear. "There was no way I could risk your life by trying to get to the cottage. It would have been suicide to have tried. But it wasn't just that one night he tightened it, it was every night after that."

"After about a month, he lifted the security, a ploy to trick the spy out with a false sense of security," I told her, remembering vividly the night I'd wished beyond hope that I could return to her with the lack of security upon the manor. Sadly, I knew it was a trick.

Four months earlier…

The weeks that had passed dragged by with agonizing slowness. It felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest at every passing day with no news of Ginny. There was no way for me to know if she was okay, unharmed by the war. There was no way I could get to her without it spelling death for both of us.

The security around the Manor and every other Death Eater home was so strongly increased that it would spell suicide for any of those trying to slip away unnoticed. Stepping one toe off the property would set an alarm spell off that would sound across the entire area and wherever the Dark Lord was. Added onto that were increased numbers of dementors with the order to kiss anyone who tried to escape.

Day after day, week after week, I was able to do no more than dream of seeing Ginny again. The night that I felt the security lessen, watched as the dementors were sent on their way. For a moment my heart soared. I would be able to return to Ginny! But, logic returned with a crushing weight at the realization of this trick.

That Tuesday night, I sat upon the balcony in my quarters staring out at the sky, trying to imagine what Ginny was doing. It had been a month since I'd last been to the cottage. I wondered if she had given up on waiting for me, something I prayed every week I was wrong about. I did not want to think about her giving up, but I knew that not many would hold on that long. But, Ginny was not just anyone. She was the most stubborn woman I'd ever known. I knew it would take a lot longer than a month to dash her hope.

It was only when the sun began to lighten the horizon that I returned inside, climbing into my big, empty bed. Even after all the time apart, it still did not feel right to lie down without her beside me. My arms felt empty without her familiar, sleeping form in them. Red hair wasn't sprawled across the bed, invading my pillow like I'd grown so used to. I felt as if my heart were gone too, the pain of her absence hitting me worse when I lay down without her.

Ginny snuggled closer to me, pressing herself into my warm chest. "I missed being in your arms as much as you missed them around me," she whispered, leaning up to kiss my jaw. Her soft lips caressed my skin and I let out a content sigh. I wished I could leave the story off here. I wanted nothing more than to snog her till both of us were senseless.

Instead of doing what I wished to do, I planted only a soft kiss upon her seeking lips before returning to my story. "The pain I felt then and in the following month was only the pain of being apart. But, it was all too soon that the pain became physical, triggered by the appearance of a certain trio so stupidly being caught by snatchers and brought to the Manor."

Closing my eyes, I gave her only a brief description of what happened, figuring she'd heard it already from the trio themselves. "I knew it was him," I told Ginny when I got to the part where Aunt Bellatrix demanded I tell them if it was Harry Potter or not. "I knew what it would mean if they realized that though. He would be killed, along with your brother and Granger. I couldn't let that happen."

She let out a low breath, shaking her head before placing it on my chest, her arms wrapping around my middle. "It was brave of you to try and hide it. Too bad they figured it out another way though," she said, regret in her voice. She had already figured out what was coming next, I was sure.

Two months earlier…

Dobby, that squeaky little house elf that Potter had tricked my father into freeing so many years ago, was not what I expected to see in the drawing room of the Manor that horrible night. The silly little thing, mismatched socks on his feet, saved the lives of many that night. I did nothing to stop him when I noticed him upon the chandler above my Aunt Bellatrix. I had to hide my smile upon the sight.

Soon, the squeak of the bolts being unscrewed drew the attention of each person in the room, everyone seeming to freeze and watch. I silently stepped out of the way as he gave a smile and loosened the last bolt, the chandler loosened crashing down. Aunt Bellatrix barely dove out of the way as it crunched on the floor, the sound of shattering class filling the room.

"You could have killed me!" she shrieked, brandishing her wand at him. A snap of his fingers brought the threatening wand to the elf's tiny grasp.

"Not kill!" he exclaimed, as if horrified by the idea of killing. "Never kill! Only maim or seriously injure!"

The knife that Aunt Bellatrix was so fond of found its way towards the small group clinging to the elf as he disapparated from the Manor. As if in slow motion, I watched as the knife went slicing through the air towards him, making contact with his skin the split second he vanished. The trio, the goblin, and the elf were gone but so was the knife.

The mayhem that followed was terrifying and painful. It did not take long for word of this incident to reach the ears of the Dark Lord. It was with the fury of a thousand scornful women that he descended upon the ancient Manor and all those it in. Not a single person was spared his fury. Everyone found themselves on the wrong end of his wand more than once before the night was up.

I myself was tortured within an inch of my life. My father's torture I could handle, I was used to, but this agony the Dark Lord released upon me was like nothing I'd ever dreamed. Sure, I'd felt his Cruciatus Curse on a few occasions but never with this fury behind it.

I felt as if my very bone marrow were on fire, burning like white hot magma thought my entire body. I would not give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out, I never did. I could handle the pain, suffer in silence, until the world around me would fade into black and the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness fell upon me.

Sadly, he let up just before I was freed of my torture. I lie panting on the drawing room floor, gasping for the breath stolen by the pain. It felt as if every inch of my body had been beaten with thousands of bludgers. I was sure I'd never be able to move again. For another moment the pain returned, this time even stronger than before, if that was possible. When he finally let up again, I let out a gasp of breath and lay on the polished wooden floor, feeling the lingering effect of the spell, the searing pain in my bones still fading. My eyes finally found a way to open and I looked up to see Voldemort having moved on to punish my father.

I let the darkness overtake me then, unconsciousness sparing me from further pain. The next my eyes opened, I was lying on my bed, the covers pulled up to my shoulders. The house elves must have moved me once the Dark Lord made his departure. Pushing the blankets off, I sat up painfully. The lingering effects of such a dark spell were worse depending on the strength of the spell itself. Seeing as I had been under the wand of an angry dark wizard, the spell and been horribly strong. I felt as if I couldn't move without searing agony gripping every inch of my body. It felt as if I were bruised from head to toe but not a mark showed.

"Oh Draco," Ginny breathed, tears escaping her eyes as she looked up at me.

Usually, I spared her the pain of the details of my tortures but today I knew I had to tell the full story, leaving nothing out. "It's okay," I told her, tightening my hold on her. Just the feel of her in my arms again made all the pain worthwhile. I would have done anything to keep her safe and if that meant subjecting myself to pain to save the boy said to be destined to defeat the Dark Lord, then I would and I did.

Taking a deep breath, I continued on with my story. "That night, I tried to come back to you," I whispered, my eyes closing at the memory. "All I could think through the pain was getting to you. I had to see you again. But it was not to be that night. I was careless though. I was caught trying to leave."

Her gasp echoed in my ears as I recounted what happened that fateful night.

Two months earlier (later that night)...

My balcony was not a good place to apparate from anymore, seeing as there were guards in my line of site patrolling the perimeter of the property. Instead, I made my way down stairs, down into the servants' quarters. Not a sole stirred as I slipped silently though the near deserted halls. Finally, I drew near to my destination, a statue that hid a secret passage.

It had been used a long time ago as it means of a quick route out of the house without drawing the attention pry eyes, making it easier for the servants to smuggle out dark objects in the case of a raid. But with years passing, the passage went unused and soon faded from memory. I had come across it one day while exploring with Blaise as young boys.

I never used it much, only playing around as a child. And with time, I forgot about it, the knowledge tucked away in a corner of my mind. Only desperate times had brought it back. Knowing it would lead me out under the back gate and let out under the roots of a large tree in the forest beyond, I thought I'd finally found my means of getting to Ginny. Putting my hands on the statue, I pushed a bit and reached behind to pull the hidden switch.

Suddenly my ears were filled with a high pitched scream, the very air around me vibrating with the sound. My hands flew to my ears as I dropped to my knees on the cold, stone floor. I knew this sound; this was a very specific alarm spell. It would sound only to the one to triggered it and alert the one who set it. This was not good because I knew who favored this spell.

My suspicions were confirmed less than a minute later while I sat kneeling on the floor, covering my ears to keep the sound out as best I could. It really was an incapacitating noise, meant to hold the recipient of it until the person who put the spell got there. I could not move. The sound of footfalls running thought the passage drew my attention and I gulped, knowing the sound all too well.

When the footsteps stopped in front of me, so did the noise. It was then I could look up into the cold eyes of my father. The fury in them was no hidden by a cold mask. Fear clutched my heart. I had never seen him this angry.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," he hissed, pulling me to my feet with painful grip on my arm. Without another word, he marched along the halls, dragging me after him. With every step my heart grew heavier. With every moment we drew nearer to his office. I was going to die. Maybe not tonight, but nobody was taken where I was being taken and lived to tell the tale.

Flinging the office door open, he roughly pushed me in and sent me crashing into his large oak desk. The door closed and locked with a click behind him as I prepared myself for what I knew would make the Dark Lord's Cruciatus Curse look like child's play.

"I had my suspicions," he said darkly, pulling me to my feet again before making his way behind the desk with me. Flinging the chair aside, he flicked his wand and a secret door under the desk opened, leading down dark steps into blackness. "But I'd hoped I was wrong." With that, he roughly shoved me down into the small hole in the floor.

The air rushed from my lungs as I hit the cold, stone floor at the bottom of the stairs. I'd never personally been in this room, though I knew of it. It was a room used only by my father for his special victims. Aside from my father, I was the only other one to know of this room. Not even Mother knew about it. Nobody could save me. I would die down here.

It was in the moment as I watched my father descend the stairs that I made a silent promise to myself. I knew there was torture about to come and there would be a lot of it for as long as my father wished to toy with me. He would try to get it out of me who I'd talked to, who I was going to see. I would not tell, no matter how bad he hurt me. I would not let Ginny get hurt by this man.

All my life I'd been beaten and abused by the man I called Father. All my life, I toughened my mind and body to his torture. He never heard me scream, not since I was a small boy. I realized quickly that it only added to his satisfaction. No matter how many times he hurt me, he never won. I never cried out, I never begged for mercy. I would not let him win. If that meant that I would die defying my father, then so be it. This man would not get the best of me, even if he took my life.

The sound of the door in the floor slamming shut sealed my fate as I struggled to my feet to face my father.

"He kept me down there from that day forward," I told her, cuddling her close to me as she cried, horrified at what I had been though. "I was only given enough food and water to keep me alive, just barely alive. I had only enough just strength to survive his beatings, his torture. I wasted away down in the cell. Sometimes, days would go by without him coming down. Weeks at a time he would not show up. I knew only the days by the food I was given. Once a day, I was given a small glass of water and every other day I was given some bread."

"Oh Draco, no wonder you feel like skin and bone!" she exclaimed, horror written on her face.

I gave her a sad smile. "Yeah, but at least I got some. But that just meant he was keeping me alive to hurt me longer. At time I wished he would just do me in and be done with it. I was tired of the torture, of the pain. Every time he came down he would demand of me the name of who I'd been leaking information too. He said he'd let me go once I told him but I would not allow him to know about you. I could die at his hand, I did not care. But the very idea of him touching you…" I trailed off, unable to find words to describe how I felt.

All was silent for a moment as I though over my time down in that room and Ginny tried to comprehend what I'd gone though. Finally, she spoke up, pulling me from my thoughts. "How did you get out?" she asked softly, taking one of my hands absentmindedly in her own and tracing the patterns on my palm.

I breathed a sigh, feeling her soft touch for a moment before launching into the final part of my long and painful story. "It wasn't easy."

Three days ago...

As my father ascended the stairs, slamming the trap door in the floor of his office behind him, I let out a painful sigh of relief. This had been one of the worst beatings yet. Not only had it been two months of me defying him and not giving him the name of who I'd been talking to that fueled his anger, but tonight he seemed particularly angry for some other reason too.

That reason came to me as I lay in a bloody heap on the cold, stone floor in the few seconds that the trap door was open. I knew by the sounds of many people that tonight was Christmas Eve. Father always hated the Christmas Ball but went along with it for publicity's sake. If I was correct, which I was sure I was, that would also mean it was Tuesday. Another week's passed without seeing Ginny.

I closed my eyes, not having enough strength left to keep them open. The pain that seared and throbbed all over my body added with the weakness of months without much food keeping me sprawled on the floor. I didn't think I could move, it hurt too much to even breathe. As I lay there, I mentally assessed the damage done to my body.

I could feel broken bones at least in my chest, a few ribs it would seem. Judging by the hard time I had breathing, something was wrong with my lungs. I could feel the fresh blood seeping through the already stained and dirty robes upon my body. My body felt as if it were covered in bruises, a likely thing indeed. My father preferred his hands, feet and knife tonight over his wand. I was pretty sure he hadn't even brought his wand down. He'd grown sure enough of my weakness that he knew he did not need its protection from my fighting, and he was right. All I'd been able to do was lie there and take his beating, holding at bay any sounds of pain.

At that moment, I was certain I was going to die soon. Even if my father never set foot in this room again, I would die down here. He inflicted such wounds tonight that my body would not be able to save itself. Knowing my death was near, I gained the strength to open my eyes and look around. The cold walls loomed overhead in a gloomy manor. I did not want to die here.

Looking in despair at the cell I was in, I noticed for the first time a small crack of light. In his hurry to leave and get to the Christmas Ball, my father did not secure the trap door. I wasn't locked in! But, even with the excitement at the fact I would not have to die in this room, I was still weak. It didn't change my condition. I could hardly breathe, let alone stand. The stairs leading up looked a mile high and each one posed a challenge.

It was with the realization that if I could get to the cottage tonight I'd seen Ginny before I died, if I didn't die trying, that gave me the strength to get to my knees. I didn't remember much of the trek up the stairs; I let my mind go blank in the pain that it caused. All I could think was just a few more stairs. Finally, I pushed the door open to reveal my father's pristine office.

I used the desk to pull myself up and out of the hole in the floor. Finally getting out, I softly closed the trap door behind me in an attempt to cover up my escape. Putting my hand back on the desktop, I started to pull myself slowly up. When I was at my knees, I paused to catch what little breath I could. After a moment, I started again to pull myself up. That's when I felt it, the slim piece of wood under my hand. Struggling to my feet, I gripped it in my hand: My father's wand.

I did not stop to ponder my luck as I took the wand in my hand and stumbled from the room. Knowing the Manor like the back of my hand, I make quick work of avoiding the partygoers, or as quick as I could move in such a state. By the time I made it down to the servants' quarters, I could hardly think for the pain.

A quick wave of the wand cleared any lingering security spells and it was with quiet ease that I opened the secret passage and slipped it, closing it securely behind me. The trek out to the trees beyond was an agonizing process and it took a long time to make it through the tunnel. I prayed the entire way my father would not return to his office to get his wand. Not only would said wand be gone, but the blood on the floor would alert him to my escape.

Finally, after what felt like hours of half dragging myself through the unused tunnel, I made it to the exit. I did not try to pry the roots apart that grew over the hole and effectively hid it, I merely blasted them away with a quick spell. Climbing out, I let out a gasp of pain, having hit my chest on the climb. If I wasn't sure of broken ribs before, I was now. The pain was excruciating and my breath became harder to catch.

I turned one last time to look at the Manor, making sure I wasn't seen in the trees. The sounds of the annual ball drifted on the cold night air but I paid them no mind. I wasn't sure how much longer I had before my father realized I was gone, his wand too. I dispelled the thoughts and gripped the nearest tree for support. Clearing my mind of everything, I lifted my newly acquired wand high and turned on the spot.

"You can deduce the rest, I'm sure," I told her softly, staring unfocused at the wall as I remembered the pain and agony I'd gone through to get back to Ginny. "I got to the cottage and, upon finding it empty, collapsed on the floor."

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there," Ginny cried softly, despair in her voice. "I should have been there!"

Hugging her tighter to me, I shook my head. "You were where you needed to be," I told her, trying to comfort her with my touch and words as she cried. "The only thing that matters is I'm here with you now, alive because of you. We're together again and I'm going to do all in my power to make it stay that way." Tilting her tearstained face up towards me, I kissed way each tear before finally coming down on her lips. "I know it's not set in stone, but I will marry you one day, Ginny Weasley."

Say hello to how the story got its name! Yay! Okay, so it's not the chapter I'd originally had planned but this fit way better than the chapter I'd had written forever. Did I do okay with Draco's story and with that last little bit? I need your opinion guys!

Little BJ would like to thank all of you very, very much for the reviews! He's getting so big with all the wonderful reviews you guys give him! Keep it up!

Do you guys think I'm going a bit over board with our metaphorical starving five-year-old? I'd like to think not. I find BJ part of the story. What do you think?

Well, I'll cut it off here since I'm sure you're tired of my rambling. Thanks for reading and drop a review by! I always do write the next chapter fast with the encouragement of lots of reviews!

Until we next meet…

Remember, a happy author writes better and faster! So review and make me happy!