"You've been avoiding me."

Ginny heaved a sigh, accepting she would be late to the DA meeting. She had been avoiding this conversation for a week, instead keeping careful watch on Evanna to figure out how to proceed with the ferret-ier Malfoy

"You're so vain, Malfoy. I have a life outside of you, you know?"

Draco frowned, grabbing Ginny by the elbow and dragging her into a nearby alcove. "You said you would take me to Dumbledore."

Ginny scowled. "And I just said I have a life-quidditch practice. Homework. Friends. You might try it."

"Oh, come off it," he said. "It's not even your OWL year."

"No, but I'm playing Seeker when I should be Chaser and maybe-just maybe-I don't want to betray my friend!" Ginny snapped.

Draco blinked. "So your quidditch career is more important than your best friend killing someone."

"From where I'm standing, it's not as if Lucius Malfoy was all that great a guy," Ginny snapped.

She had spent a week carefully watching Evanna, as had Bridget and Luna. The whole situation had her beyond confused. Why would Voldemort order a child to kill his most influential Death Eater? What had Lucius done to deserve that? And if Lucius was dead, then why was Evanna still so nervous all the time? The one thing that did have Ginny confused was why Evanna had done it in the first place.

"You didn't even know him-you just know what Eva-"

"I know that he nearly killed me when I was eleven years old," Ginny cut him off, glaring at him.

"I'd forgotten about that," he said softly. Ginny almost thought he meant it. "But that has nothing to do with-"

"Evanna saved my life," she emphasized. "And I just don't feel right betraying her to Dumbledore."

"You really think I am going to betray my own sister?" he said.

"You say she killed your father," Ginny said.

Draco sagged, suddenly seeming so unbearably sad that Ginny reached out to touch his arm gently. He jerked, then relaxed against her touch.

"As pissed as I am, I don't want to see her hurt," he said. "Once, I had thought he rewarded loyalty, but he had my father cut down like a dog. With my father dead, I have no protection from his whims."

"And Evanna does?"

Draco gave an odd little snort. "She really hasn't told you all anything? Yeah, Evanna is in a far better position than I am, a fact she likes to remind me of."

Ginny frowned at that. How in the world could Evanna be safer than Draco? By default, Draco was now the head of the Malfoy family-despite all the scandals the family seemed to attract, it was still a position of power, especially for elite Pureblood types. And, for all her snobbish-ness and mastery of dark magic, Evanna was still the relatively quiet Slytherin girl whose closest circle was made up of misfits from the other Houses and was suspiciously friendly with Harry Potter.

But, then, this year Evanna had been spending more time with the Slytherins. At the beginning of the year, she had been dating one of the most popular ones and, for some reason, had ended up betrothed to him just after breaking up with him. Ginny had watched as some of the Slytherins seemed to bow in front of Evanna. Coming back from winter holidays, Evanna had not sat in their usual compartment for the first time since first year.

"That makes no sense, Malfoy," Ginny finally said.

"Does it really need to? I thought you Gryffindors were all about saving people?"

Ginny eyes narrowed. "You are far from a damsel in distress. And if you're going to be so pleasant, then I won't do a damned thing for you. Evanna was my friend first."

She began to walk away from him, but he caught her by the arm, muscles taut with desperation.

"I won't say anything about Evanna to Dumbledore. That would just put me in more danger anyway," he said concedingly.

This did not make Ginny feel any better.

"Please, Weasley," he all but begged. "I don't want to be forced into becoming a Death Eater. It's-it's not at all what my father told me it was. Please, help me."

"I can't."

"What?" he sounded horrified.

"I do have a life, remember? Quidditch practice," she said, teasing in her tone. "I can't take you to Dumbledore tonight, but this weekend, alright? Eleven Saturday morning."

Draco gave a tremulous smile. "You won't-you won't say anything to Evanna?"

"Shouldn't I give her a chance to get out, too?" Ginny pushed.

"She won't. She's in too deep."

"I thought you said she wasn't a Death Eater," Ginny said, frowning.

"She's not," Draco said quickly. Too quickly. "Look, just, please. Vouch for me to Dumbledore. I just want to get out. Nothing more."

Still unsure, Ginny nodded. "I'll see you Saturday then," she said.

He then gave her the most genuine smile she had seen on any Malfoy. She might, might, just be doing something good.

Draco POV

No one much took notice of Draco in the Slytherin Common Room these days.

Of course, only a select few knew what had happened over the holiday, including Theo. and those select few avoided him like the plague. The rest of the House, never lacking in Slytherin unity, followed suit. So it was not long before Draco had the Common Room mostly to himself in order to contemplate what he would say to Dumbledore.

He did not hate Evanna, as much as he wished he could. But, he had been shown that it did not matter how loyally one served the Dark Lord; he could still be killed in horrible ways. The death of his father had caused him to question everything he had previously known. Perhaps the 'Camelot' that the Dark Lord had sold to his followers was not the utopia Draco had once thought it to be. If the Dark Lord could be so cruel to his followers, then what would he do to his enemies?

The fire was warm in front of Draco's feet, soothing the whirling thoughts inside his head. He would talk to Dumbledore, he would be emancipated from whoever it was they had masquerading as Lucius Malfoy. The Headmaster was smiling at him, congratulating him for turning away from the Death Eaters. Asking him to do one little favor, and hold out his left arm. Then pain, cold, searing, evil-

"Dray?"

A soft voice spoke in front of him. Draco startled from his dream to see his sister. Her cheeks were wet, as though she had been crying. His first instinct was to ask what Theo or someone else had done to her, but he stopped himself just in time. His sister always had this uncanny ability to know what he was planning and-though he still did not understand how-had even stopped him from following through with his plans by manipulating his memories. It was best that he have as little interaction with her as possible until Ginny took him to Dumbledore.

He stood, doing his best not to feel guilty when she visibly slumped.

"Draco, please," she said softly. "I'm-I'm still your sister. Please, talk to me."

"But you're not, are you?" he said. "My sister, I mean. Because if you were, it would have been patricide."

Evanna opened her mouth and closed it again.

"Look, I just-tonight was not-"

"Good night, Evanna," Draco said firmly, doing a sarcastic little bow before she could try and open up about why she was crying, pulling Draco into a conversation he did not want to have and possibly endangering his plans to go to Dumbledore.

Saturday, he told himself. Saturday you will be safe again.

The rest of the week crawled by slowly, Draco flitting in and out of the Slytherin common room like wraith. For once in her schooling, Evanna seemed to be spending more time with the Slytherins than away. With exception of the night Draco had spoken with Ginny, when she had been out until nearly curfew, she had not spent a single night with her many friends outside of the house.

So, instead, Draco had stayed out, playing quidditch in the cold, studying in the library. Anything that kept him away from his sister and her strange influence over his mind. It wasn't hard to do.

When Saturday finally arrived, Draco paced just a few corridors over from where he assumed Gryffindor Tower to be, wondering if Ginny would show up. If she didn't, he had decided he would go to Dumbledore himself, beg the old man to listen to him in spite of the snake on his chest.

At five minutes past eleven, Draco had begun talking himself into doing just that.

"You are a student of Hogwarts, it's his obligation to see you protected," he muttered under his breath. "He will have to listen, you-"

"Sorry I'm late," a voice said behind him. He spun to see the Weasel-ette, who had thrown her long red-hair into a ponytail. She was dressed in muggle clothing with no robes overtop. Draco felt his cheeks color slightly; it was immodest in high wizard society for a young witch or wizard to be wearing trousers with no robe or cape to hide one's shape. "Fred and George needed me to distract Hermione from one of their first year test groups."

"Oh and we all know that their pranks are a matter of life and death," Draco drawled sarcastically, wondering why he had asked for the Gryffindor's help at all.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "No, but I figured secrecy was. Unless you wanted all of Gryffindor House to know that I was refusing to help my brother's business like I normally do Saturday mornings in favor of taking the great Draco Malfoy to talk to the Headmaster."

Draco flushed again, though this time it had nothing to do with Ginny's tight-fitting jeans. "Right. Sorry."

"I'm sorry, can I hear that again?"

"Can we just get on to the Headmaster's office?"

Ginny snickered a little, gesturing at Draco to lead the way. He gave her another slight glare and did so.

"I'm happy to help you, you know," she said. "But I don't fully understand why you couldn't go on your own. I'm not like Harry-sure my parents work for Dumbledore, but-"

"You're a Gryffindor," he said. "The Headmaster favors your house to a ridiculous degree. Everyone in my House has stories of themselves and relatives having unpleasant run-ins with the Headmaster."

Draco expected Ginny to argue against that, but instead she nodded silently. "Like Evanna last year."

"Yeah. Like Evanna."

"But why me though?" Ginny pressed after a moment. "He may not like Slytherins, but he likes the other Houses just fine. I know you study with some Ravenclaw boys."

Draco was surprised at that statement. He didn't think anyone had noticed that, especially not the quidditch partner he had managed to so thoroughly piss off before the break.

"I-I didn't trust them," he said with no guile whatsoever. Before he could respond, however, they had arrived in front of the gargoyle that protected the headmaster's office. Draco looked at Ginny expectantly.

"What?" she said. "I may be a Gryffindor, but that doesn't mean I know the password to the Headmaster's office."

Just as Draco was about to say something that would likely have his mother glaring at him for lack of manners when the statue in front of them sprang to life, revealing a stone staircase. Nerves hit Draco like a wall and he must not have done as good a job of hiding them as he thought because Ginny slipped her hand into his and gave it a small squeeze. Perhaps she transferred some of that Gryffindor courage because Draco was able to step forward to ride the stairs to the top of the tower office. When they were standing in front of the Headmaster's door, Ginny gave his hand another little squeeze before he lifted the knocker and let it fall.

"Come in," the Headmaster's voice sounded.

Draco exchanged looks with Ginny before opening the door. The Headmaster-who's fashion choices were questionable during the school week-was wearing lime green robes with swirls of yellow and purple. Draco was pretty sure he saw rabbit-eared slippers poking out from underneath the robes as the Headmaster perused his bookshelves a moment longer. When he at last turned to his students, he looked surprised for a brief moment before settling into his usual twinkly-eyed grandfather demeanor slip into place.

"Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Weasley," he said. "I cannot say I ever expected such a pair to willingly come to my office. Shall we sit?"

Ginny nodded to Draco as they both took the comfortable looking armchairs in front of the Headmaster's desk. The Headmaster replaced the book he had been leafing through and sat in his chair behind the desk. Before Draco or Ginny could say anything, he looked at Draco.

"May I say, Mr. Malfoy, I am sorry for your loss," he said in a low sad voice. Draco's eyes narrowed.

"No you're not. You're just worried about what happens next," he said.

The grandfatherly gaze did not slip, but Draco knew this man was just as dangerous as the Dark Lord. The only difference was the set of rules the Headmaster held himself to.

"What brings you to my office today?" the headmaster said after a moment's silence.

"Draco needs our help, Headmaster," Ginny said, sending Draco a look that had him remembering the pinches his mother used to give him when he was rude to the Parkinsons at dinner parties. "You know-with the old crowd."

It would have been obvious she was speaking of Dumbledore's secret society even if she hadn't waggled her eyebrows. Ginny Weasley was many things, but from her hair to her skills riding a broomstick, she was not subtle. Draco found the trait almost charming.

"Does he?" the Headmaster said genially. "And I assume you came to vouch for his sincerity?"

"Malfoy may be a pri-priveleged Pureblood," Ginny said, catching herself before calling him a 'prick' in front of the Headmaster. Draco scowled at her. "But he's serious about this. He's a long way to go, but he doesn't want to be trapped into service to You-Know-Who. I've seen how scared he is-we need to help him."

Draco was not entirely sure that he liked Ginny Weasley painting him as some sort of damsel in distress, but he would take it if it kept him away from his father's killers.

"And what say you, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore said. "Is what Ms. Weasley saying true?"

Draco swallowed, his tongue unbearably thick in his mouth. "Yes. With my father gone… It's only a matter of time before the Dar-You-Know-Who decides to make an example of my entire family. I don't want to die, Headmaster. I-I think my father was following a madman."

"And you do not wish to follow in his footsteps?" the Headmaster pressed.

"I don't want to become a killer before I even reach my majority," Draco admitted in a hoarse voice.

"And your sister?"

The way the headmaster said the word…. It Draco had not already been sure that the Headmaster knew Evanna's identity before that moment, he would know it now. He forced himself not to look at Ginny, though he knew that she was watching every moment.

"I can't do anything for her," he said.

The Headmaster hummed, steepling his fingers. "I will need proof of your change in allegiance, Mr. Malfoy. How do I know you've not been sent to spy?"

It was then that Ginny Weasley exploded.

"He's not even taken his OWLs, Headmaster! And his father was just murdered in his own house by his own sister!" she shouted. "How can you not help him-he is your student!"

"I understand your objections, Ms. Weasley, but we must remember our enemy does not think the same way we do and will not hesitate to use children," the Headmaster was calm as ever. "His heir, for example."

Draco jolted, every muscle on high alert. The Death Eaters knew, of course, and their families. That ball over the summer had been nothing less than a would-be king cementing his power by showcasing his dutiful heir. It had been a most marvelous piece of theatre. But the world outside-Ginny, the rest of Hogwarts-they were not supposed to know. And as much as Draco wished to punish his sister, he knew that revealing her identity would go too far and put everyone around her at risk, including himself.

"I see you know who I speak of," the Headmaster leaned forward, the twinkle in his eye giving way to Machiavellian hardness. "That is the price of my help, Mr. Malfoy. I need to know as much about her as I do her father."

Draco dared a glance at Ginny, who's expression was rather like what Draco's would be without Narcissa's many lectures on etiquette: utter shock.

"What the bloody hell-" she clamped down on her exclamation, going red in embarrassment. It might have been funny if the situation was not so dire.

"We aren't close," he said. The Headmaster raised an eyebrow.

"Many would argue you are perhaps the closest to her. Surely you must know something."

"I know that even if she isn't the masochist her father is, she is just as dangerous. One day, she'll be more dangerous," he snapped. "I came to you looking for safety, not another powerful wizard with a reason to kill me!"

"I can promise you, Mr. Malfoy, any information you give will be held in strictest confidence," the Headmaster said. "So long as you are in this castle, I can make sure no harm comes to you and that you are not forced to go back to Malfoy Manor and into Voldemort's service. I can even see that the properties and titles are transferred to you when you turn seventeen, guaranteeing that you are safe even when you graduate. But in exchange, you must tell me what you know."

Draco clenched his jaw, weighing everything in his mind. He wanted to go home-to his birthright, though as long as the Dark Lord retained control of the Manor, he would not be safe outside of the walls of Hogwarts. But, to spy on Evanna? He wouldn't be safe inside the walls of Hogwarts either.

"You don't know what you're asking of me. You don't understand what she can do," he said.

"I can keep you safe, Draco," Dumbledore said. "Even from a teenage witch."

Draco grit his teeth at the barb but did not say anything. The silence stretched on.

"Think on it," the Headmaster said. "For now, I do believe your Housemates have begun a snowball tournament by the lake-it would be a shame for the pair of you to miss it."

The grandfatherly mask was back as the Headmaster escorted Ginny and Draco to the office door. As the heavy oak shut, Draco realized he was shaking. Ginny gripped his hand so tightly it almost hurt.

"'What the fuck was that?" she demanded, voice dripping with disgust.

"I can't tell you-it's too dangerous-"

"Not that-though we will be speaking about this bloody heir, whoever the bint is," Ginny snarled. "But the Headmaster-you're fifteen-his student! He's supposed to help you-"

The narrow window of the tower seemed to light her hair on fire, though it did not burn as brightly as the fire in her fierce brown eyes, nor did it match the warmth that radiating from her hand in his down to his bones. Perhaps along with Gryffindor courage she also gave him Gryffindor impulsivity because one moment Draco was listening to Ginny rant against the Headmaster on his behalf and the next his lips had crashed onto hers.

Half a moment of fire, warm, alive fire heating his cold soul.

Half a moment after that the resounding sound of a hand making contact with skin.