I feel like an utter villain for completely making you wait for months on end for this chapter…I've been really busy (stupid work! STUPID SCHOOL!)


He sat in his study, waiting for her to come to him. He was overcome with all sorts of emotions. He had seen the look in her eyes, the look of fear and hate, and he knew that any sort of relationship he had had with her was lost now. And without that, without the assurance of her friendship and trust, Draco felt that he had nothing at all, which was ironic considering he had just inherited the world.

Which was fitting, he supposed, because irony seemed to be around Draco all his life. To hate someone that could hurt you so much, and vow to never turn out like them, and then being the cause of their very demise, that was ironic. No, that was father and son.

"M'lord?"

Draco turned to the opening of his tent, nodding permission to enter to the man. He complied.

"She's…she's out M'lord…wandering about."

Draco looked at him. "So?"

"So…should we…put her back?"

Malfoy scoffed at him. "What an idiotic question. Don't you think there's a reason she's wandering about? How do you think she was able to leave the cell?"

"Right, M'lord, so sorry, M'lord…" the man apologized stumbling backwards out of the tent.

"Macnair!" he called him back.

"Master?"

"If you see her…" he sneered at the man "wandering about, tell her I'd like to see her."


Ginny had been wandering about the grounds for some time it seemed, for the sun had almost set since she left the cell in what seemed to be mid-afternoon. She walked stiffly, her muscles still sore and wounds still scattered about her body. She smelled for than felt the dirtiness of her clothes and hair, and she was positive she looked a fright.

There were so many identical tents set up around her it was disorienting. Ginny wasn't even sure which tent she had been occupying. She glanced around, ducking her head quickly into a couple of the tents, finding them as quarters for some people, and eyed Death Eaters as she walked passed them, wondering what sort of business they were going about; little did she know, each and everyone had the same thought about her.

"Hey! Hey you there!" someone called behind her. Ginny felt terror flow through her veins along with her blood and quickened her pace, though her legs barely complied. She heard quick footsteps behind her and broke into a dead run. "Wait!" a hand wrapped around her wrist and jerked Ginny's body to a halt, turning her around.

The man seemed to be panting from the short chase. Ginny ripped her arm from his grip, taking a couple steps back and wishing now more than ever that she had her wand. "You're to be told that Dark Lord wishes to see you."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow. "Does he now? Well you can tell him that if he wishes to see me he can come find me himself."

"Tell him yourself," a voice came from behind her, causing a mixture of emotions. She felt slightly relaxed, even with all of the Death Eaters around her, to hear the familiar voice, but at the same time it sounded alien to her, and that caused her to fear him almost as much as the servants that occupied to camp she stood in. She spun around.

"Hullo."

"Hi," he nodded to the man in front of them, and he took off quickly. His eyes scanned Ginny. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore. Yourself?" she eyed him back, and found absolutely no flaws, causing her to feel even more disgusting.

"Powerful," he smirked at her as she rolled her eyes. "Seriously. You'd be surprised what a rush it is to receive all of the powers of a wizard as powerful as he was. Gave me quite the power buzz for the first few days."

Ginny furrowed her brows. "How long have I—"

"A week. Give or take a day or so."

"Wow."

"Yeah. When you pass out you really pass out."

"I never…" Ginny glanced around them. "Can we go somewhere else for this?"

He nodded and indicated for her to follow him, weaving through the rows of tents until they arrived at the one seeming to be his own. He held back the tent flaps, allowing her to enter first.

She almost gasped at the elaborateness of the tent. All of the places she had glanced into earlier were simply furnished: a bed, a desk, an adjacent bath, but this tent was full of books, a large desk, two lounge chairs, a decent sized couch, and that was only in the entrance. The study was cut off by a hanging sheet, which, upon craning her neck, Ginny could see contained his bedroom and bathroom section. "Wow."

He smirked. "Like it?" he flopped down into one of the easy chairs, and Ginny found herself smiling. "What?"

She shook her head, taking a seat on the couch across from him. "Nothing…this just…" she stretched out and looked over to him. "…feels like old times again."

"Why shouldn't it?" he questioned her.

Ginny looked over to him again, pointedly. "Because this isn't old times," she stated softly.

"Any dreams while you were out?"

"No, thankfully. No…I think those are done with."

"We can only hope," Draco grinned. "With Parker dead and the war over with…"

"The war isn't over," Ginny corrected him. "Not by far."

"What do you mean?" he scoffed. "You can't honestly think there's a chance for them—we massacred them. Dumbledore is dead."

"So is Voldemort, isn't he?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, but Dumbledore's powers weren't bestowed unto someone else were they?"

"Harry isn't dead yet. And you can believe he will fight you until he is."

"That won't take long. He doesn't have much left."

"How can you talk like that?" Ginny was standing now. "How can you talk as if the lives you've slain don't even matter?"

"I wasn't aware they did."

This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to be like this. This wasn't how it was with them. "I can not believe you just said that," she took a wobbly step away from him. She felt dizzy. The room seemed to spin; everything around her except for Malfoy, who stood as well.

"Perhaps you're right—things aren't how they used to be."

Ginny took another step back. "This isn't you…this isn't the you I remember."

"Things change—wow, we've stated that three times within the past five minutes."

Ginny shook her head. "Don't try to write this off as some kind of joke. Those were my friends, my family! The people you massacred were people I loved!"

"Calm down, Gin. I told you I would barely even be able to protect you—you knew going into this that I wouldn't be able to help them—you promised me."

"In case you don't recall," Ginny locked eyes with him. "I didn't."

'"I can't let you leave this room until you promise me, promise me, that I will be forgiven if I have to hurt your friends."

Ginny's brown eyes met his icy silver ones coldly. "Well it's all you've done for the past seven years…why should a few days time be any different?"

Ginny turned and tried to pull her arm free, but Malfoy tightened his grip. "Please."

Ginny stopped the tug-a-war and turned to Malfoy upon hearing the plea in his voice. It was a first, at least for Ginny. Here stood Draco Malfoy, begging her not to hate him.'

It was true, Ginny actually hadn't responded to Draco's request. All she had done was allow him to walk her back to the Fat Lady portrait, where they got into yet another argument about her joining him.

The memory brought tears to Ginny's eyes; knowing that they would never again walk the castle at three in the morning, never sit in the Astronomy Tower all night, talking quietly or sitting in comfortable silence, never again would they meet in their dreams—and that seemed to be the worst blow of all. She felt herself rocking on her feet.

"You should lie down," he whispered. She hadn't realized that he had been holding her, and she barely noticed when he picked her up and placed her on his gigantic bed in the back of the tent. "You're running a fever," he informed her. His voice faded away and roared in her ears simultaneously. The room fuzzed in and out of focus, so much so that Ginny could barely see the look of utter concern in Draco's eyes. "Just sleep, Ginny. Give in and go to sleep."

It was the first time she'd obeyed him.


Upon awaking she felt considerably better. The soreness in her muscles had dissipated, and her head no longer felt foggy and muddled.

"You're awake," he stated, straightening in his seat.

"How long was I asleep?" Ginny questioned. She felt utterly refreshed.

"I'm afraid you have commandeered the use of my bed for the past two nights. Like I said: when you're out…" he didn't feel the need to finish the statement a second time.

"Sorry…" Ginny knew what hell it was to not be able to sleep in one's own bed.

"Don't worry about it."

"I was still weak, I suppose, from…" she trailed off, both of them knowing what she was weak from and neither of them wanting to think about it.

"Well you were in quite good hands; I had a mediwitch here for you at the bedside ten minutes after you passed out."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a liability to your location?"

"Would be," he nodded. "Had we not hexed her with a rather strong memory charm."

Ginny pushed herself up to a sitting position. "I still haven't thanked you for—"

"M'lord?" someone called at the entrance to the tent.

Malfoy raised a finger to her and walked to the front. "What?" the annoyance at the interruption rang throughout the tent.

The man mumbled something that Ginny couldn't quite make out.

"No," Draco responded firmly.

The man muttered something else.

"I said no; I don't care what country he's the king of, there's no way I will allow it."

"But sir," was all Ginny understood. She could sense the urgency in the man's voice.

"Enough! The Dark Lord didn't choose me as a replacement because I fold under pressure and make ill-minded decisions. Get out of here!"

More mumbling.

"Then they'll take their anger out on you," he informed him coldly. He returned to the seat next to his bed. "Sorry about that."

"King of where?" Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"It's of little importance," he dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand. "You were saying?"

Though incredibly curious, Ginny dropped the matter. "Thank you for saving me," she felt better finally being able to deliver the words to him. "I know it must have been hard for you…for people to see you kill him…" she didn't quite know what to say. Exactly what did you say to someone that had killed their own father to protect you?

"It really wasn't," he assured her coolly. Oddly enough, this statement made Ginny smile.

"Master?"

Draco gave a tremendous sigh. "I've got some things to take care of," he stood. "The second wardrobe is yours, if you're feeling well enough to go about," he pointed to said wardrobe and left her alone. Ginny smiled as she heard his impatient bark as he exited the tent. "What now!"


Not much, but here it is…I felt a little inspired to work on this story…I've recently started a new one: Bittersweet Temptations. I'm not too fond of the title, but I love the way it's coming along, if you want to check it out.