Gin was fuming. They had spent the winter hols at Order headquarters and she had been completely kept in the dark, again. Her brother had refused to tell her anything, even less than her mother let slip. She was tired of being treated like a child. She was tired of being treated like she had nothing to contribute, worse, like a china doll that needed to be protected.

She sat in alone in a compartment, desperate to be away from those that were currently annoying her worse than ever before. That's where Draco found her. He slid in, saw her face, and sat opposite her with a concerned expression.

"Gin?" he asked to get her attention.

She sighed. "Hi." Her tone was dark and distant.

He sat back and prepared himself for whatever it was to come. "What happened?"

She looked at him. "Do you want to fight?"

He studied her carefully. "What do you mean?" He really wasn't sure. Was she warning him not to press the issue?

"In the war, do you want to fight? Do you hate the darkness so much that you want to do something to stop it?"

Her gaze was so intense that he sat up. He still was not sure where she was going, but her question excited within him a fire that had been smoldering his entire life and he matched the intensity in her eyes. When he spoke, his tone was hard and very serious. "You know I do. I just don't…"

She waved off the rest of his comment, "Don't know if you trust the Order, yeah, sure." He frowned at the way she had dismissed his words, but do the rarity with which she did something like that, he found himself even more intrigued with where she was taking this. She continued with a tone that matched his, but her words completely shocked him, "and I'm not sure I trust their methods. The point is," she left him no room to react, "that I'm sick of being left out because I'm the youngest and the only one they can get away with protecting because they can't. Keeping me in the dark about what is happening around the world will only place me in more danger, but they can't see that." She turned her gaze to the window. "I've just been thinking, that's all." Her last words were said a little wistfully.

He sat back again. Now he really didn't know what to think. He knew what he wanted to think, but he wasn't sure he dared. "And what is it, exactly, that you have been thinking?"

She sighed again. "I'm not really sure. I just…I'm just not sure…" she turned to face him and when she continued he knew she had amended her statement, "that if I were Neville I would feel safe, or satisfied, if the Lestrange's were merely returned to Azkaban." There was something in her eyes he had never seen before, and as much as it thrilled him, it slightly scared him as well.

He swallowed.

She changed her position so that she was more directly facing him and her expression changed, it became less distant, softer, more open. "It isn't out of vengeance…" she shifted once again. "It's… Death Eaters will not hesitate to use Unforgivables on the battle field. Their first strike will be to kill. It seems foolish, suicidal, to avoid killing them at all costs. If killing is our last resort, we will lose more good men and women than the world can afford, even if we manage to win." She sat back heavily, "Not to mention how it will effect people to know that somewhere out there the one responsible for the death or tortured insanity of a loved one is still alive, being fed well and allowed to exercise if they behave themselves."

Her eyes returned to the window. His eyes continued to study her. After a moment, he spoke. "I want him dead too." His voice was quiet and understanding, but still filled with a great deal of emotion.

She looked at him with a weak smile.

He sat back again and relaxed. With a very nonchalant air, he asked, "So, what do we do with all of that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I have no idea." They lapsed back into silence.

A while later, Draco mused allowed, more to himself than to Gin, "If we trained…it isn't like we have to join anyone in order to join the war…"

She smirked. "Why Malfoy, would you be suggesting vigilantism?"

He mimicked her smirk and shrugged innocently. The irony made her laugh. "I'm just saying, we're pretty strong individuals and I have a feeling that, if we put our minds to it, we could come up with a pretty reliable way of figuring out what is going on. Besides, aren't the good guys the ones who keep saying that someone is obligated to that which they believe is right? We would be failing our world if we did anything less."

She shook her head in amusement. "It may have been said with an attitude of defiance, but that doesn't make it any less true."

He chuckled.

She studied him for a moment. "So, are we really going to do this?"

He got serious again. "I aim to."

She nodded. "I can't let you do it alone. Besides, like you said, I'm obligated."

The talked for a little while, throwing ideas back and forth about what they were getting themselves into. They talked about how they would go about getting information on the activities of both sides and came up with a few ideas, but nothing that seemed too promising yet. They talked about how they would need to train as well, discussing the curses and hexes they would need to know and how they could go about practicing them.

Suddenly Gin seemed to get an idea. "Listen, We're going to practice curses and hexes and dueling, of course, but it would be to our advantage to know something no one else does."

He looked at her warily but waited for her to explain.

"Muggles have come up with some pretty amazing ways to compensate for their lack of magic, and because of those compensations they have been able to invent devices that achieve things we have never dreamed of. Knowledge of their methods could be useful. Using a muggle weapon in war would not only be effective it would be confusing and terrifying in its unfamiliarity." She waited for his reaction.

"Go on," was all he said.

She sat up straighter and did as she was told, developing her idea as she went along. "One, sword fighting is as much about grace, coordination, balance, flexibility, concentration, and discipline as it is about combat, all of those principles will come in handy regardless of weapon choice. Two, archery is silent but deadly. Imagine the confusion and fear you would feel if someone in your midst dropped dead with an arrow sticking out of his back. The very archaic nature of these weapons adds a dramatic flare to battle and inspires a very interesting emotional response. We will train in magical curses and hexes just as strongly as we are in these muggle forms, but the additional styles will be to our advantage."

Again, she waited. He just looked at her for a moment. Slowly a smirk spread onto his face. "I like it."