s/n: so terribly sorry for the long delay. Hopefully this chapter will make up for it as will the next which I have already started. I hope you all like and please read and review.

Haven

Chapter 3

It had only been a few hours after Harry had left but both occupants of the house had quickly retired to their rooms. Both Ginny and Draco were now fast asleep, the only sounds emanating from their room was the steady rhythm of their breathing. In, out, in, out, the breaths came, giving our friends/ the young people an appearance of peace and restfulness. The uncertainty that had filled their world since the time that Voldemort had risen to power was audible only in the occasional moans and whispers that would break free from their mouths. Each dreamed of paradise but was frequently pulled out of those visions when events from reality invaded their thoughts.

Had there been a visitor who observed the two sleeping forms, they would see the young woman, body curled into itself, hands gripping the sheets. Her shape was that of someone trying to protect themselves from an unseen harm, a harm perhaps unseen even by the lady herself. What she was protecting herself from, she wouldn't be able to say, and had she been told of her pose, she would deny it indignantly. She had been loved all her life; she had nothing to fear.

The young man would similarly deny any intimation that would reveal him to be less than the stalwart individual he thought himself. Only cowards feared what they did not see and Draco Malfoy was no coward. His prone, slightly tense figure was not that of someone hiding, but of someone waiting. Like a tiger that had been caged too long, he displayed the jerky, sudden movements of an animal, desperate to be free. In wakeful hours he was graceful and lithe, but in the night, when exhaustion allowed no room for pretension, his body, if not his mind, was released from its prison of calculated motion.

Neither the breaking of dawn nor the laughter of birds outside the windows woke the sleeping companions. For today, they rested. There would be so little time to lay in peace in the future; there would be so many weary bodies moving towards some indefinable point, unsure of what victory would taste like, but knowing that it would be sweeter than the bitterness that seemed to be ever pervasive. They begged, silently to the gods, please let it be sweeter. But who could promise even this anymore? With the number of loved ones slipping away time and time again, the future seemed to only hold more death. The time ahead would be bittersweet, they knew, a fusion of all the emotions and actions of the last half century blended into the heady concoction of reality. Whatever it was, it had to be better than this, this constant waiting. Whatever may come, they prayed, let it come swiftly.

Ginny moved the kettle onto the stove and prepared a plate of shortbread as she waited for the water to boil. She had slept far longer than she had intended and her body ached slightly from the excess time she had spent in bed. She rubbed her neck gently with one hand as she reached for the whistling kettle with the other. She poured the now boiling water into two mugs, charming one cup to keep warm, and carried her own out to the porch as she yawned.

She sat on a wooden stair that groaned with her weight. "Oh hush up," she grumbled, "It's not as though I weigh that much."

"You know, they say that talking to yourself is a sign of madness," Draco stated as he took a seat next to her. He held the other mug in his hand and was wearing, Ginny was surprised to note, ordinary cotton pajamas; his feet were bare. Green, of course, she noted, taking in the color of his clothing. Well, who would have thought Malfoy would condescend to wear cotton.

She took a sip of her drink and said, "I wasn't talking to myself. This stair here was making a noise when I sat down and I was merely telling it – why are you looking at me like that?"

Draco shook his head, amused. "You really are completely barmy." He kept his eyes on her face. "Thank you for the tea."

Ginny looked at him surprised. "You're welcome. Here," she said, passing him the plate of shortbread.

He took a piece and chewed it slowly, savoring the feel of the grains on his tongue. It seemed like a delicacy after all his time spent in disreputable tents with even worse food. In most of the places he had been gruel and a bit of moldy bread were considered haute cuisine. He had avoided the mess tents where the food was served by a meaty, sweaty hand. This had resulted in his slender figure becoming thinner still, the hollows in his face had become more pronounced.

"Tell me something," Ginny said suddenly. "How does a man who was the epitome of all things Slytherin end up working for the Order?"

He had been waiting for her to bring this up and had his answer prepared. Admittedly, he was surprised she hadn't asked sooner. "It's an interesting thing what a person would be willing to do in the interests of self preservation," he said as he brushed the a few strands of hair off his face.

"That's a rather vague answer," she said.

"Honestly Weasley, I don't see how this is any of your damn business."

"It's none of my business, but I'm curious," she persisted. "I hardly think that it was done out of altruism knowing your feelings towards those of mixed blood."

"Altruism is merely a pretense that people use as a shield to hide their true motivations. There is no such thing as altruism."

"That's rubbish, Malfoy. There are plenty of people who do things purely for the sake of another's happiness," Ginny insisted.

"You think that, if it helps you sleep at night," Draco replied.

"Take my mum and dad for example." Ginny shifted on the stair and looked appealingly at Draco's profile. "They are the kindest people I know. They work for the Order at considerable risk to themselves and their family. They help my brothers and me whether or not we ask them to, and they've looked after Harry at a time when he had no one."

"Weasley, stop talking. You only prove yourself to be even more naive the longer that mouth of yours stays open."

Ignoring the comment, Ginny retorted," I doubt that even you can ignore my point, though having parents who have always looked out for themselves, I'm sure, makes it that much harder for you to recognize decent people."

A slight flush crept up Draco's neck and he moved suddenly, startling her, to look her in the eye. "Weasley," he began tightly," do not presume to make judgements about my life. You know nothing about it as you've revealed once before the first day I arrived here. You seem to insist upon making a complete fool of yourself at every opportunity. You think you're parents are so wonderfully caring and compassionate eh? How's this, they help the Order because it's in their best interest to fight for a side which will offer them protection." He broke his gaze. He began again, quieter, "They have no other side to fight for. They don't do it because of some grand desire to protect all Muggles and Muggle born. If they had such a high opinion of Muggles, why has there never been a Prewitt or Weasley who married a non pureblood? It's because as much as they are tolerant of Muggles they still believe pureblood to be better."

He turned back to look at her, aware of her silence. "Look, Weasley, it's a little early in the day to be having this conversation, yeah?" He nodded in the direction of the tress. "There seems to be a small path there. Interested in finding out where it leads?"

Ginny looked at his speculatively, slightly wary of his change in tone. He was making an attempt to be friendly and she would reciprocate in kind.

"That sounds nice. I'd like to get out of this house for a bit." He stood up and held out his hand. "We can get washed up and then walk out."

Taking his hand, she let him pull her up. He had grabbed the plate and led the way into the house. A half an hour later, the two made their way across the grass.

They had formed a fragile truce without words, each tentatively holding their end of the bargain, unsure of where it would lead them.

"Why do you wear cotton pyjamas?" Ginny asked suddenly as they walked along.

"Full of questions today aren't you Weasley?"

"Why?" she insisted.

"It would hardly endear me to the other Ministry soldiers if I was wearing silk pyjamas to bed every night." Draco froze, appalled at what had just come out of his mouth.

Ginny furrowed her brow. "Soldiers? When were you near Ministry soldiers?"

Thinking quickly, he replied, "The Order used it as a ruse to…to protect my identity before I arrived here." He watched her out of the corner of his eye.

She nodded thoughtfully. "True, no one would suspect that a Malfoy would be in the midst of all those soldiers."

Desperate to change the subject, Draco shot out, "So how are those obnoxious brothers of yours, Weasley?"

Ginny reprimanded him with a glance but then quickly related several stories about the state of her brothers' lives. Draco, while happy that she hadn't questioned him further, listened listlessly. He knew that this topic would keep her yammering for hours and he started to regret his rash decision as he feigned interest in her brother Bill's newest daughter.

Walking along, they progressed through the path and found that it led to an open field filled with wildflowers.

"This would be a great place to give my horse some exercise," Draco said as he knelt down to caress the tall grass.

Ginny watched his gentle movements speculatively. "That's another thing. That horse Draco. Where on earth did you get it?"

"As I was traveling. I had to find a mode of transportation that would allow me to refrain from having to use magic as well as keep me inconspicuous around Muggles." Draco plucked a tall reed and began to entwine it around the forefinger of his left hand as he spoke. "It took a little getting used to," he said as he rubbed his bum absently.

Noticing the slight gestures, Ginny giggled, a sound which upon hearing, Draco abruptly removed his hand and quickened his pace.

"Let's keep moving, shall we?" he said with a trace of irration present in his voice.

Ginny composed herself and hurried her own stride to match his. He seemed so odd in this open field. He still contained many of the qualities he had ever possessed but there seemed to be something slightly less assured about him, as though he wasn't quite sure of how to be. The boy she knew in school had had no doubts about his place in life, and he most certainly would never have been caught rubbing his bum, no matter how absentminded.

Draco stopped abruptly, promptly causing Ginny to walk smack into his back. Rubbing her nose, she looked up at his with irritation. "What are you- " and she stopped just as abruptly as she realized what had caught his notice.

It was there in a clearing, not more than a few hundred yards ahead of them. A small cloud of black smoke was rising from a rapidly burning fire.

Ginny could feel her hands begin to perspire. How could they have been so foolish as to wander about like this. As far as she knew, the rest of these woods were supposed to be uninhabited.

"We should turn back, Draco" she insisted.

"Whom ever is there will have already seen us if not heard us by now, Weasley." He looked at her through the corner of his eye. "No one but Potter knows about this place, yeah?"

"No, no one should. And if they had been friends of the Order, they would have simply come to the cottage."

They crept slowly towards the cottage, taking care to make as little noise as possible. Coming in now within ten feet of the fire, Draco peered around a large bush.

Ginny walked up, just a few paces behind. "Do you see anything Draco? ...Draco where are you?" she whispered. Moving closer, she saw his form leaning over a bush but stopped abruptly when she saw the reason for his silence.

"Stop right theres, or else I'll shoot yer noggins off!" shouted the largest and hairiest man Ginny had ever seen, as he held a long, metallic barreled object at Draco's head.