Chapter 1

My name is Ginevra Weasley, and I am in prison for murder, attempted murder, treason, use of the unforgivable curses, espionage, adultery, theft, and immoral behavior. But above all, I am accused of the greatest crimes of all: being a Death Eater, and breaking the heart of Harry Potter. The trial was a formality, an excuse to pick over my flaws, undermine my character until nothing was left. It must have given them a sense of justice, but it was pointless, really. My crimes themselves were enough to do me in. I didn't need to be slandered for adultery to feel the hatred of those around me.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start from the beginning. "A find place to start," Albus Dumbledore would say, but I'll skip the back story. Basically, I spent my childhood as a naïve and innocent girl, who grew up dreaming of falling in love. I had six older brothers, who took every chance they got to tease or defend me. When I started Hogwarts, I met Harry Potter, and developed the most ridiculous crush on him. That was also the year I opened the Chamber of Secrets, but that has nothing to do with what I would eventually become. A mere coincidence; I was hoodwinked by a diary, and too young to tell the difference between what was safe and not. I was not at fault. I spent my years at Hogwarts as Harry Potter's best friend's giggling little sister, but slowly, I gained Harry's trust. In my fourth year, I accompanied him to the department of mysteries; in my fifth, he kissed me, and I was more in love than I ever thought possible. However, at the end of my fifth year, Albus Dumbledore died, and I attended his funeral with Harry. Something else happened that day too, however, and it is then that my story begins.

If I was thinking clearly, I might have decided that walking alone in the forest, right before the trains were due to leave, and under the constant threat of Lord Voldemort, was unwise. however, I most certainly wasn't thinking clearly that day. All I knew was that there was a terrible sadness upon me I never thought I'd be able to shake.

Alls was hopeless. Dumbledore—gone! And Harry, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Oh, I believed he was a great wizard, almost as much as I do today, but how could he ever defeat the greatest, most terrible wizard ever to have lived! I leaned against a tree, shaking with tears, and cried into my empty hands, cried hard until I could stop, then continued walking. My nose must have been terribly red, and my eyes swollen. I wanted to calm a bit, make myself strong for Harry. Strong enough to explain that he need me, that he must take me back.

I heard a rustling sound, and a stunning spell barely missed my head. I reflexively drew out my wand, finding myself face to face with Draco Malfoy.

"Drop it," he sneered, indicating my wand, but I only raised it higher; still, I was frightened.

"You drop yours," I said, trying to keep my voice somewhat level, "and you'll be lucky I don't kill you on the spot, traitor."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you, Weasel." Before he could blind, I had him pinned face first against a tree, arm twisted behind his back, wand fallen to his feet, the stupid blonde snarling in pain. Lucky I had six brothers to teach me such wandless defense.

I snatched his wand from the ground, bit in doing so, he moved away from me, backed up. His eyes were, strangely, wide with fear. He shuffled backwards a bit, then tripped on a root and fell splay-legged on the ground. He drew his knees up to his chest, and seemed to regain a bit of his composure. I noticed, however, the grayness of his skin, the clumps of dirt in his hair, and the state of his robes. This was a Malfoy the likes of which I'd never seen; a wandless, hungry, weakened Malfoy.

"Fine. Do it, take me to the castle. Kill me. It's better than what He'll do to me."

"Are there any others around?" I asked, my wand still pointed straight to him.

"Yeah, right. Old hook nose figured he'd have time for a bit of tea with Potter after the funeral."

I ignored him. "Why are you here?"

Malfoy sighed. "Could you lower your wand, please?" Obviously I didn't. "Come on, if I couldn't make myself to kill Dumbledore, I certainly won't kill you." I lowered my want cautiously, recognizing the truth in the statement, but still kept it ready to raise quickly if needed.

"Snape told me to stay here. Said he'd tell the Dark Lord I'd died, told me to wait out his anger a bit, then come back."

"Why?"

"Why? Because I blew it, that's why. The Dark Lord's plenty happy Dumbledore's dead, but He had his reasons for wanting me to do the deed. And I fucking screwed up, I did," he said, burying his face in his hands. "If I come back later, beg repentance, maybe bring with me a dead Order member, I'll get less wrath than if I came now. Unless, of course, the Dark Lord doesn't decide I'm a coward for not returning, I'm not worth His time, and just kills me." Malfoy looked awful; he kept switching between looks of cold distain to me to unveiled looks of terror.

"You are a bloody coward." He didn't replied; apparently he agreed with me. He picked a leaf out of his hair, and looked up at me. "So, what'll be? A nice stun, and you'll bring me to the castle?"

"Why didn't you accept it?"
"What?"

"Dumbledore's help? Harry told me! He offered you protection, why didn't you take it? You couldn't even bloody kill him, why didn't you take his protection."

Draco's eyes were glinting maliciously, his face was completely drained with color, making him look even more sickeningly gray.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Weasel." But his face slackened slightly, and I saw a glimmer of honesty in his eyes. "Weasel, you have everything! You're family was right in there with Dumbledore. Don't you understand, the Dark Lord would kill me if I renounced him? Not just him—my father would kill me, my own father!"

I felt the stirrings of pity for him. I crouched on the ground (my wand still pointed guardedly to him), and spoke in a softer voice. "Malfoy, I'm telling you—it doesn't have to be like this! Harry—Harry told me what Dumbledore said to you."

"Yeah? What part?"
"You're not a killer Malfoy." I scratched my nose nervously. "You didn't do it, you couldn't do it. I still hate you," I said. "But, I do understand you. You didn't kill Dumbledore! And you don't have to kill anyone else! It's not to late, Malfoy."

"I can't, Weasel, I can't go to the Order! He'd find me in a second—especially without Dumbledore around, to offer protection! Why, why didn't I take it, let him go?" I watched, frightened, as he broke into sobs. I could never imagine Malfoy crying, especially in front of me, and it was unnerving. I did the only thing I could thing of: I embraced him, and let him cry on my shoulder, wincing as the front of my robes dirtied. He calmed after awhile, and looked up at me. "You know, Weasel, you're awfully pretty."

I snarled in disgust, and let go of him. "Now is not the time to hit on my Malfoy, or I'll hex you into tomorrow."

"I know," he said, tracing circles on the ground. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate Weasel—"

"You can call me Ginny, you know," I said coolly.

"Okay, Ginny. And you can call me Draco."

So now we were on first name terms. How strange.
"So what'll it be Mal—Draco?" I asked. "I can't very well leave you here to return to Voldemort."

"I can't return to the Dark Lord anyways, he'll kill me."

"Still—"
"And I can't join the Order! Potter would kill me first!"
I sighed. I was sure he would.

"Can you help me, Ginny?"

I quavered, slightly. This was going to quickly, there was no way I could help Draco Malfoy—I mean, it was Malfoy! He was about a heartbeat away from killing Dumbledore!
But he didn't kill Dumbledore, a voice said. He didn't. He couldn't, because he's not a killer. He's not even with Voldemort anymore.

Things could turn out wrong, before I knew it. I really couldn't handle this on my own—I wasn't even 16 yet! But I couldn't think of any other choice.

"I'll help you, Draco."

He grinned slightly, the friendliness looking oddly intimidating on a face usually in a perpetual sneer.

"But you have to promise me, Draco. You can't go back to him. You have to hide, you can never go back to Voldemort."

He looked down for a second, and seemed to be considering something. "I won't," he said, looking around slightly, as if Voldemort would jump out from behind a tree.

"And I'll have to keep your wand."

"Naturally."

Now, there's just the small predicament of what to do with him. He couldn't very well stay in the forest—if he didn't starve, something would attack him, or he'd be found out.

"Draco, you wouldn't happen to have an invisibility cloak, would you?"

"No," he said.

"Because I was thinking, you could come like in the woods next to my house, but the thing is, how to get you there."

"Eww, Weasel home—"

"You know Draco, I could hex you right—"

"I'm just kidding, Ginny. Actually, I have an idea. Polyjuice potion!"

"Yes, but who are you going to change into?"

"You. Who else? I just have to make sure I stay far away from you, far away from everyone else."

"Okay, I'll stay behind, pretend I missed the train, and come on the next one to the Burrow—that's my house—and I'll come to the house, and hide you in the woods. But wait," I said, finding fault in these plans. "Where are we going to find polyjuice? And I can't trust you alone with Harry."

"You're right—aww, screw it, I'll Apparate."

"Do you have a license?"

"No, but I've done it before; plus, I'm already on the run, it can't get much worse than this."

"Ok, so Apparate, here I'll give you the location," she drew a small map, showing him where to go. "Get there around seven, stay here until half past six, then disillusion yourself, and make a break for Hogsmeade, Apparate out as soon as you can."

"This is a pretty risky plan. What if someone sees me?"

"You have any better ideas, Draco."

"No. It's just risky, that's all."

I was silent for a moment. "I can't believe I'm going to deceive Harry like this."

Draco grimaced. "You've made me your personal charity case. You'd better get used to it."


A/N: Ok, so I got zilch reviews, and only 4 hits. Oh well! Hopefully, someone will read and review this—it would mean the world to me! School just started Wednesday, and I have been feeling a bit miserable lately. This is very therapeutic for me.
Next chapter is already written; I will post it Friday after next (8/19). Maybe sooner, if I get reviews. Come on, give me one!