Draco whispered her name as he wandered through the dark streets. Suddenly, he could have sworn he felt her presence somewhere nearby. He dismissed the thought, thinking he was imagining things. He was on a muggle street with nice houses, a good area compared to what he had become used to living in. All of a sudden, she appeared out of nowhere, carrying a broomstick, dressed in robes. She had a smile on her face, and she didn't see him at first. He took a step forward, and a streetlight revealed his face. She looked at him for a moment, and it was clear that she didn't recognize him. He was dirty and his hair was no longer slicked back. He had dyed it black and let it grow out long so that it hung in his face, and his face was thinner than ever from hunger, his damn aristocratic cheekbones poking out of his face. "Ginny," he whispered, and collapsed, hunger and exhaustion finally catching up to him."

Ginny carefully walked over to the young man dressed in dirty muggle clothes, wondering if she'd heard correctly. She could have sworn that he whispered her name before he fell. When she rolled him over, she gasped. No matter how down on his luck he was, there was no doubt in her mind that she was cradling Draco Malfoy's head in her lap. Harry had told her how Draco had failed to kill Dumbledore, and so she assumed that he must have fled in terror, been hiding. But she still wasn't inclined to trust him enough to show him where they were hiding, so she wrapped her cloak around his head and headed back towards the house, awkwardly dragging him with her broom tucked under her arm.

When she opened the door, heads peeked down the stairs at Ginny and her burden. Three pairs of feet came rushing down the stairs, and three gasps as she revealed his identity. Ron was ready to throw him out that instant, Hermione wanted to wait for him to wake up, and Harry said nothing. Ginny didn't listen to anyone but half dragged-half carried him over to a sofa and laid him out, pushing the hair out of his face in a motherly fashion. She ordered Hermione to watch him and went to the kitchen to conjure up some beef broth. Returning a few moments later with a steaming cup, she waved her wand over his face, and he opened his eyes. Ron and Hermione stared, but she took no notice, and supporting his head, began to help him drink some of the tea.

She wasn't sure why she was doing this. At Hogwarts he had either taunted her or ignored her. But she pitied him. Something told her that her initial assumptions were right. No favored Deatheater would look so weak. Harry looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he spoke quietly,

"How is he?" There was no malice in his tone, and she wondered if he knew more about what had happened with Dumbledore than he was letting on.

"I don't know. I don't know much about healing. He seems terribly weak. I don't think he's eaten in days." Draco's eyes had closed again and his head had fallen back. She put down the cup of hardly touched broth and pulled a blanket over him. She went to push the hair out of his eyes again, and realized that he was burning hot to the touch. She glanced up at Hermione. "He has a terrible fever, Hermione. Is there anything you know that could help him?" Hermione nodded and went into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a poultice that she put on his forehead. Ginny seemed a little surprised by the quick work, so Hermione explained, "We never know what's going to happen next, so we wanted to be prepared in case we were stuck here for awhile or someone got injured, so we asked Neville to make a few things for us since he's so good at Herbology. And I've managed to collect quite a few potions ingredients as well." Ginny smiled.

"Hermione, we're so lucky to have you." Hermione smiled back at her, then realized that Ron was becoming increasingly uncomfortable at being in the same room with Malfoy, so she took him upstairs. That left Harry and Ginny alone together for all purposes, since Draco was still unconscious. She looked at him for his approval of the situation, and he nodded. She understood that while he didn't trust Draco completely either, he had the same analysis of the situation. After Draco's disappearance, they hadn't known whether to blame him or not, but it was becoming more and more clear that he acted out of fear rather than genuine malice when he became a Deatheater. Harry and Ginny sat in silence for a long time, and then Harry rose and went to bed himself, leaving Ginny to watch over Draco. She wasn't sure whether she was protecting him or protecting everyone else, but after awhile, she fell asleep too, sitting on the floor next to him, her head resting against his side.