Disclaimer: I do realize that this has been missing from my last chapters, see prologue if you have any questions. It's always the same. Always.

Author's Note: Well, I know there truly is no excuse for my laziness. Over the summer, I had eight trillion and one family obligations, and then school… And then poor Jess had computer trouble, and things just escalated. In short, I apologize a thousand times over for the huge time span between the last chapter and this one. I'm nearly halfway done with chapter four, so hopefully it won't be any more than a month until you see that one. And finally, Rea and Jess (who I will murder if she thinks for one second I want her gone) are my saviors.

Chapter Three

Was it worth it when it was over

Proving yourself right?

--Dashboard Confessional

Ginny could hear him calling her name and smiled to herself. What an idiot, she thought. Get some firewood, my arse.

She peered through the leaves, straining to see him in the dim light. Ginny could see him looking under fallen trees and through low-lying bushes. She leaned back against the damp tree trunk and hitched her robes up into her lap, making sure she couldn't be seen from the ground.

She knew perfectly well why he hadn't wanted her to use any magic, besides him not wanting her to have his wand. She remembered when Harry had been forced to go to the Ministry of Magic hearing for conjuring a Patronus -- even though that Patronus had saved his and his cousin's lives -- before her fourth year. Ginny had a feeling that Malfoy would not get off quite as easily as Harry had, being wanted for several charges of murder. At least she assumed he was wanted for murder. Or even if he wasn't wanted, he certainly had performed more than enough illegal curses to lock him in Azkaban for about a hundred lifetimes. She guessed.

His voice broke through the stillness again. "Bloody hell, Weasley. Don't you realize that this is only going to make things worse for you?" He paused, and Ginny wondered what he was on about.

"Torture, Weasley," he sneered, reading her mind. Oh hell, she thought, not that again.

"Remember? We were just discussing it…" He paused. "Weasley," he said suddenly, "I don't think you realize the magnitude of what I'm saying."

Ginny could see his blond head getting worryingly close to her tree. The just-risen sun glinted off his hair, and she noticed that it seemed more blond than silver now… it had probably darkened as he'd gotten older, she realized.

She began to wonder what she'd hoped to accomplish by hiding from him as she watched him trek through the forest, coming to a stop directly under her tree. Just a small step to the right and a slight tilt of his head and he'd have a clear view of her. He was going to find her eventually, and she had a feeling that it would have been better if she had just tried to find some firewood and left it at that.

It was another one of those situations, she thought, like not grabbing her wand last night. Like not letting Ron help her look for Ismene. That was her, Ginny Weasley, always thinking with her feet.

It was as if she didn't possess a brain.

Malfoy began to speak again. "You know, I wonder what your precious Potter would think if you were returned to him, missing a finger or two… or three… pregnant with some Death Eater's bastard," he trailed off, letting the enormity of his words sink in.

And sink in they did. She felt her blood run cold and her breath hitched. There was no doubt in Ginny's mind that Harry would love her even if she returned without any fingers or a nose or ears or arms… he'd love her if she was missing all her limbs, she knew that.

But with another man's child?

The thought that she would return with another's child had never occurred to her. All of Malfoy's talk of torture had brought only Cruciatus and knives to her mind.


Never had she imagined… never thought that forced sexual relations with some horrible Death Eater were something she'd have to worry about. That was the worst thing she could imagine, truly, and then being forced to bear a child…

A Death Eater's child? She knew Harry would still love her, but a child, a child that would be as much hers as the Death Eater's? Could she ask him to love… it?

She was about to climb down from her perch, when Malfoy's voice halted her. "Of course, that's assuming Potter would be alive when you are returned… which he won't be, because you're going to tell us where he is. But on the off chance…"

A fresh wave of hatred coursed through her. That Malfoy could talk like that; talk of killing Harry like it was absolutely nothing…

She slid out of her tree and stared at him. "No."

He raised his eyebrows, appearing utterly unsurprised to see her. "No?"

"No. Harry won't be dead because I'm not going to tell you where he is."

"I think you-"

"No, Malfoy. There was a reason I was chosen for this job, and I don't intend to let either Harry or Dumbledore down."

"Weasley, I still don't think that you grasp-"

"I know perfectly well what you're on about!" she snapped, interrupting him again. "Torture! It can't be all that much worse than listening to you blabber on about it. And even if Harry doesn't love me anymore… at least he'll be alive. Nothing else matters. It doesn't matter if you or I live or die, ultimately, it will be Harry against Voldemort, and Harry will win."

His face contorted nastily. "Pretty words, Weasley. What makes you so sure?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes, looking directly at him. "I know Harry. And I… knew… Tom Riddle. I knew his strengths, and I knew his weaknesses. And because Tom Riddle didn't succeed in killing me, Harry knows them as well."

"And you think, because of that, Potter can beat the greatest wizard of all time?"

"I'm sure you Death Eaters grow tired of hearing this, but Voldemort does not hold that title. That title is in the sole possession of Albus Dumbledore, and your master," she sneered mockingly, "is well aware of that."

Malfoy's eyes flashed dangerously. "Careful, Weasley. Talking like that is a good way to get yourself killed."

"Then why don't you do it? Kill me now, put me out of the misery of your company. I assure you, I'd appreciate it very much!"

His upper lip curled in disgust. He reached into the bag that had been tied to the broomstick and withdrew an oddly shaped package. He thrust it at her, and when she took it, surprised, he growled, "Unfortunately, I don't have a choice. Go to sleep. I'll wake you when it's time to leave again."

He abruptly turned his back on her and pulled something shimmery out of his pack. As Ginny stared, he fixed a final glare at her, and pulled the invisibility cloak about his shoulders and over his head, disappearing quite completely. She had seen Harry, Ron, and Hermione do that often enough to not be startled.

Ginny sighed and looked down at the oddly shaped bundle. Opening it, she discovered it was another invisibility cloak, admittedly smaller and of lower quality than Harry's and the one Malfoy had just put on, but a valuable object nonetheless. She frowned in consternation, and looked back up at where Malfoy had been standing. Suddenly, his head reappeared, appearing to float in midair.

"Weasley, I can see from the look of incomprehension on your face that you're confused. Cover yourself with it."

She'd just started to narrow her eyes in a look of intense dislike when he disappeared again. She sighed again and lay down, pulling the cloak up like a blanket over her head.

-*-

When a ray of sunlight across her eyes woke Ginny perhaps six hours later, Malfoy was seated a few feet away, his back against a tree trunk and his feet flat on the ground, his knees bent, turning something shiny over and over in his hands. He appeared deep in thought and the sharp lines of his face seemed softened somehow, with his face cast in shadow and his too-long hair in his eyes.

Ginny stared at him for a moment, taking advantage of his being unaware of her scrutiny. He still looked so much like the boy he'd been at Hogwarts; cruel and immature, relying on his father to get him out of trouble. There were differences, of course; one could only expect them after an entire adulthood of war and fighting.

Lines creased his forehead as a result of too much frowning, lines that shouldn't have been present on someone his age. A thin scar slanted across his right cheekbone, ending near his hairline. His hair was longer than she remembered it ever being in school. It looked like it had been cut fashionably some time ago and then let to grow however it wanted, long in some places and short in others. It also appeared he hadn't shaved in several days; pale blond stubble had grown into the beginnings of a beard and moustache.

He looked up and saw her staring at him. His eyes flashed with dislike as he shoved the shiny object he was holding into his pack and sneered, "Awake, are you?"

Ginny sat up slowly, stretching out stiff muscles and frowned slightly, ignoring his waspishness and wondering what the object had been. "Obviously," she muttered, sounding bored. "I don't know why you're complaining, you told me you'd wake me when it was time to leave."

Draco started to open his mouth to reply when he realized there really wasn't much of a response to give. He opted for a fierce glare instead.

Weasley's stomach growled so loudly that he could hear it distinctly from his spot under the tree. His mind immediately filled with thoughts of poor etiquette, though they ended quickly. He'd been hungry himself often enough in the past few years of his life to know that there wasn't much one could do for an empty belly.

Draco was surprised to see a pale pink blush appear quickly on her freckled cheeks, though it disappeared so quickly he might have imagined it. "If you're hungry, my suggestion that you get some firewood is still valid. I seem to recall you returning with that task unfulfilled."

This time a flush definitely spotted her cheeks, but it was from anger instead of embarrassment. "Suggested? Bloody commanded's more like it! If you want firewood, go get it your ruddy self." With that, she abruptly turned her back on him and lay back down, obviously thinking of going back to sleep.

He scowled at her back for a moment before standing up. He shoved his cloak into his pack and grabbed his wand – not that he could use it, of course, but it was far better for him to have it than her. He stomped into the woods, smirking a bit when he got farther than twenty feet from her and heard her yell.

Draco looked about the woods, mostly dry now, and set about gathering some of the smaller pieces of wood that would better serve as kindling for the flame than actually starting a fire. It was a relatively young forest and as a result, large branches on the ground were nearly impossible to find. He was about to give up and tell Weasley that she'd be sans any food save for some slightly stale pumpkin bread until they got past Abergavenny Castle and he was safe to use his wand when he saw the perfect tree. It was a dead oak, probably killed by some disease, huge and stretching high into the sky. It looked ridiculously out of place in such an animate place, surrounded in all directions by young trees decorated with lush green leaves, while it's own branches hung bare of any leaves to claim as its own. There were several sturdy looking trees around it, Draco figured he could climb one of those and cut some of the dead branches off from the top.

He was doing – or attempting – just that with the small knife that he'd reluctantly carried with him in case of an emergency. He hadn't had this kind of emergency in mind when he'd packed it, however, he thought wryly. He could think of a great deal many things he'd rather be doing than camping out in the woods with a Weasley, and he thought wistfully of Blaise. They'd get her out of Azkaban soon, he thought. She was –

He was in the middle of that thought when the dead branch – it had looked plenty sturdy when he'd braced his body weight on it, dammit – he was holding onto with his right hand snapped off the tree. Later, he didn't remember the actual falling part, as he hadn't been more than eight feet off the ground, but he could certainly remember the loud crack that had resounded through the still woods when he landed on his left arm – his lead arm.

Draco lay in the dirt for a few moments before chancing a glance down at it. He knew what he'd see before he looked, but that didn't stop the enormous sinking feeling when he saw his arm twisted at a nauseating angle, making his stomach drop with dread. Coincidentally, that was when the shock wore off and the first flickers of white-hot agony began to travel up his forearm to well near his shoulder. He groaned softly, trying not to think of the next few days.

His father's voice rang in his head: Never let an enemy see your weakness. Draco knew a few healing spells, but there was no way he could perform any of them now. He knew next to nothing about the Muggle way of healing, and even if he had, he doubted if he'd be able to set his very much lead left arm with his very clumsy right hand.

Draco slowly began to stand up, wincing when his arm jarred even slightly. He tried to brush off the worst of the dirt and leaves with his good hand, just to make sure Weasley wouldn't know anything was amiss.

Fat chance, he thought. The brat would probably try to steal his wand.

-*-

Ginny heard the crashing sound; after all, she was just over fifteen feet away after having been dragged through the forest for a while. She glanced up curiously, wondering what Malfoy had managed to do to himself. She waited a few moments, peering through the trees for a glimpse of him. Finally, just as she was beginning to debate going to look for him – perhaps he was unconscious and she could take his wand? – he crashed through the bramble, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead.

She wondered on that for a moment, as it wasn't that hot, surely he hadn't been exercising hard enough to produce such a sweat?

Suddenly, as if she'd been hit by a bludger, she realized what was wrong. He was in pain, excruciating pain. She had seen a great many people hurt before, and he was showing all the symptoms: pale, drawn face and clenched teeth. Her eyes travelled down his body in an utterly professional manner, looking for the site of injury. She saw his arms looking almost as if they were crossed, but the right arm providing more support than it should have been – he was using it almost as a makeshift sling, she supposed. It was such a slight thing that had she not had much experience with such injuries, she probably wouldn't have noticed it. It was the same move her brother had made both times he'd broken his arm in Quidditch, not wanting anyone to know just how badly he'd been hurt.

Ginny almost opened her mouth to ask if he was all right when he beat her to it, snapping excessively harshly, "Let's go. I've got to get to Abergavenny Castle by sundown."

Her haunches rose, and any semblance of pity she'd felt for him disappeared. "How are we going to get past the Muggles in broad daylight, then?"

His eyes narrowed as he focused on her face. "The broom is charmed, Weasley. Anyone who sits on it is Disillusioned. If you don't know what that is, it's when--"

"I know what a Disillusionment charm is!" she snapped, turning her back on him.

He watched her walk away, thinking of one of her earlier statements: I'm a healer at St. Mungo's… He grimaced and cradled his useless arm closer to his chest, and followed her to the broom.

*-*

"It's bloody going to rain," Weasley muttered after they landed at dusk on the third day, drawing her cloak tighter around her. She cast a sidelong glance at Draco.

He pretended not to notice and didn't reply.

He'd known that he was getting sick for the past two days but he'd pretended not to notice. He had noticed all the covert glances that Weasley'd been shooting at him, as if she'd been waiting for him to fall over twitching.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure how far away from falling over dead he was. His arm was festering, of that he was sure. He'd tried to brace it the night after he'd broken it once Weasley was asleep, but he'd had no idea how to set it. Eventually, he'd just ripped up one of his shirts and wrapped his shoulder with it. He was sure that that hadn't done a stitch of good, but what else could he do?

Then, yesterday morning, he'd felt the fever begin to arrive. It had been subtle at first, the occasional sniffle and an achy feeling in his body. By noon, his body had begun alternating between hot and cold, shivering one moment and sweating the next. He was positive Weasley had noticed that, he'd seen her look at him strangely when they'd stopped that night.

By this morning, he'd barely been able to stand up. His entire body ached abominably, his head pounded like nothing he'd ever felt before, he coughed and sneezed constantly, and not to mention his bloody arm, which seemed to hurt more each second.

He was in bad shape, and falling over twitching didn't really seem like that bad an option right now.

Draco landed the broom bumpily, jarring his arm hard enough to make him moan. He winced when he felt Weasley stiffen behind him. He hurried off the broom, digging around in his pack the second his feet touched the ground. Weasley slid off the broom after him, her eyes narrowing, a nonplussed expression on her face. "Malfoy, I--"

"What?" he snapped, thrusting some old pumpkin bread at her and the spare invisibility cloak. He pulled his own out, wrapped himself in it (no easy task with only one hand), and lay down, not even bothering to put another blanket down. He drew his heavy travelling robes tighter about him, shivering.

He was very nearly asleep when something wet hit his nose. He pushed off the invisibility cloak and opened his eyes wearily, knowing exactly what he'd see.

It was raining again.

Draco pulled his hood up one handed and tried not to groan. His last thought before he fell asleep was, At least I know I'm in Wales…

*-*

Ginny woke with a start a few hours later, turning her head this way and that, trying to hear what woke her. It didn't take long. Dark as it was, she could hear Malfoy thrashing about a few feet away from her, and then she heard him cry out.

She crawled towards his inept form, oblivious to the mud she attracted in doing so by now, after three days of sleeping in the woods. "Malfoy," she hissed, tentatively reaching for the place she supposed his shoulder would be. She felt the hard plane of his chest and snatched her hand away as if she'd been burned. Slowly, she reached down again, finding his left shoulder this time. She shook him a little, and he moaned in what sounded like pain. Her mind raced until she realized that it had been his left arm he'd been favoring for the past few days. What on earth was she to do? She was positive he was delirious after a few moments of vigorously shaking his other shoulder and hearing only jumbled sentences.

An idea struck her at that moment. She could find his wand and use it to get away! She could take the broom and fly away, back home, safe and sound…

Then her heart sank. She had no idea where she was. If she'd known that she was on friendly land, she would have used it in a second – aurors probably would have been able to apparate here within a few minutes. But… if she was in Death Eater territory… oh god. What on Earth would she do? She supposed they had Malfoy's wand's signature somewhere… Was it possible to determine individual spells that way?

Another moan from Malfoy made her look down. She began feeling in his robes, looking for the wand. A simple lighting spell, while enough to attract aurors, certainly wouldn't be enough to send Death Eaters out looking for them, would it? She smiled triumphantly as she felt the smooth wood between her fingers and was pulling it from his pocket when her wrist was caught in a death grip.

Ginny gasped and tried to see Malfoy's face through the darkness. He said, clearly, "Blaise, don't even try it. I'm hardly in the mood for one of your games tonight." Then his grip loosened, and finally his hand dropped onto his chest. She sighed in relief, extracting his wand all the way. "Lumos," she murmured, wondering when green sparks shot out the end, but nothing else happened.

Then it clicked: wands adapted to their user's preference, their lead hand and the imprints of their fingers. Malfoy's wand was much thicker than her own and it felt strange in her small hand. She remembered suddenly that Malfoy was left handed, and she gulped nervously. Slowly, she switched hands and attempted the spell again, trying hard to get the move correct backwards. Finally, the light flashed on and she began her inspecting.

The rain had slackened off from when they'd gone to sleep, but it hadn't stopped completely. She raised the wand, looking at him. Malfoy's hair and face were completely drenched, though his cloak seemed to have a better waterproofing spell on it than her own, as his body seemed dry still.

Ginny stood up then, knowing that if she was going to leave, she needed to do it immediately. She was halfway across the clearing, picking up the broom, when she realized that she needed to figure out how to undo the jailing spell. "Erm… finite incantem?" She whispered slowly. The wand light immediately distinguished, leaving her in blackness again, but she started it again and slowly started walking away.

She'd walked a good thirty feet into the woods when she realized that it was done. She was free to go. She walked purposefully back into the clearing, mounted the broom and was about to push off when another agonized moan made her hesitate. Ginny stood, feet straddling the broom, for a long moment, contemplating.

You at least need to find out what's wrong, her conscience whispered. She closed her eyes in frustration, knowing that if she looked she was bound to help him. She'd taken the Healing Oath, after all, and, as much as she was loathe to admit it, her morals wouldn't have allowed her to leave him.

"Oh bloody fucking hell," she growled, slamming the broom back onto the ground with definitely more force than was necessary, and walked back over to Malfoy. "I can't ruddy believe this."

Ginny lay a hand on what should have been a forehead cooled by the rain, and closed her eyes wearily when she felt the heat radiating off of it. Don't do it, she thought over and over again, even as she began unfastening his robes.

She headed for his left arm first, as she'd seen him cradling it to his chest more than a few times these past days. The rain started to pick up, and she realized there was no help for it. She conjured a makeshift tent around them and one of Hermione's famous bluebell flames, for both heat and light.

When she got down to his plain white T-shirt, the only thing she could see was a forearm that was a tad too skinny, lightly dusted with pale hair, but there didn't appear to be anything wrong. It had looked like he'd been favouring his lower arm, but that obviously wasn't the case…

She sat back on her heels, thinking about the amount of pain Malfoy'd obviously been in, and of the fever. She had a hunch about what must have happened, and, leaning forward again, she slowly cut off his T-shirt, sucking in her breath at the extent of the damage.

There was a deep puckered scar on the back of his shoulder, but that wasn't what caused her stomach to drop. The worst part was the shoulder joint itself; a hump rising on the outside and the arm hanging at a sickening angle.

The hump was a joint out of place, of course. She could heal it with magic in just a few moments with her own wand, but the spell was complicated and she wasn't entirely sure she could manage it with someone else's wand… Not to mention that Malfoy's arm had festered for two days with no tending. Ginny didn't know of any spells that could reduce muscles swollen to the extent his were.

Her mind raced back to the Muggle Medicine course Dumbledore had strongly suggested she take back in her seventh year. She could still hear her teacher's voice, a kind hearted little witch, speaking about setting bones and joints popped out of place.

Truly, the only option was for her to do it herself, but she wasn't certain she could. Setting a shoulder joint was incredibly hard work under the best of times, and by the swollen, tender look of it, the muscles were probably pulling on the joint incredibly hard. She eyed Malfoy appraisingly, and then attempted to prop him up in a sitting position.

He was a good deal heavier than he looked, and like most people, a great deal larger than she was. She muttered a cooling spell directly at the swollen muscles, doubtful that it would do any measure of good nearly forty-eight hours after the injury, but she needed all the help she could get. After a few moments, she prodded the injury gently again. It felt a tiny bit loser, but not enough to aid her considerably.

Ginny slid herself behind him, bracing his body weight with her body. She needed to get the bone at the proper angle before she could slip it back into the joint. His breath hitched and he moaned. She paused, and then gingerly picked his wrist up, gripping his elbow in at the same time. She cupped his elbow and then whipped it up and began pushing it in.

Her heels were digging into the floor and beads of sweat were standing on her forehead by the time she heard an audible 'pop' as the joint slid back in. Malfoy's breathing began returning to normal almost immediately. She lay the arm down and collapsed on the canvas floor of the tent, draping an arm over her eyes.

After a few moments, she sat back up and lay a hand on his forehead. He was still hot, though not burning as he'd been before. She brought his robes up to his chin, and shook her head in disbelief.

Whoever would have thought in a million years that she'd be tucking Draco Malfoy into bed?

Author's Note again: If you would like to be notified when I update, leave your email address in your review or email me at gac_tera@hotmail.com and let me know. I did start a SK group a few months ago, found here: . I would appreciate it very much if you all would join and post away, as there are two members right now and I feel like a really big loser :o) Basically, the only thing on there right now is the fic (under files, of course) so please, I beseech you all.

Thank you to the incredible, patient reviewers:

Dukerbrown: Thanks so much! Dilkara: Oh, I feel so flattered! Thanks for the review. Mora: Ask and you shall receive! BlackMage3: I'm crazy about you ;) Thank you! Erised: Hey, now that's an idea! And about Harry… hey, ya never know ;o) Jessa: Oh I'm so relieved! Characterization has always been a big problem with me. I'm so happy that you love Ginny!! ravenclawsweethear283: Will do :o) SamiJo: I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. Thank you! Grace: First off, you have the prettiest name ever. Second, your review practically made my day! I've just added you. Jeru: Your English sounds all right to me! Thanks. OutofAzkaban: I tried… what do you think? Thanks for reviewing. Hallee87: I'm sorry about the wait. Tris: Have just added you. Your review was so nice. Thanks for the compliments. Zelle: HEY! I'm so glad I made you laugh. I try :o) I'm so sorry I haven't been over to your stories lately. I'll be going over there as soon as I'm able!!! Jambagurlie: Thanks so much! Rea: THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHINGGGGG! Malkavian Kirie Croiff: thanks! Indigo Child: Thanks for reviewing three times! Your reviews were so in-depth and kind. And can I just mention that I was three seconds away from naming a character Meredith in this? I love your name! I'm terribly sorry about the long wait. Vanessa: Thank you!! I'm so sorry about the wait. Emaleth84: Thanks!

Until next time my lovelies