Disclaimer- The plot's mine. The rest isn't.

Author's Note- Oh my! Can I just give thanks to all the wonderful reviewers? Because you guys are fantastic and all deserve chocolate chip cookies for being amazing. I honestly wasn't expecting such great feedback and seeing your reviews really made my life complete. Thank you so much! Also, I want to clear up some turmoil in regards to the title of the story. Oedipus is purely symbolic and will have nothing to do with the plot. This means Draco will NOT kill Lucius, marry Narcissa, and then stab his eyes out. I promise. There is NO incest. That ok with everyone? Now, I want you all to kiss the ground upon which my wonderful beta, Jess, walks. She's absolutely wonderful. Alright, I'll stop boring you guys with this long, drawn out author's note and let you get on with the story. Enjoy and please review with your opinions and some input if you'd like. It's greatly appreciated.

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OEDIPUS
Natural

"Hate is to great a burden too bear. It injures the hater more than it injures the hated."
-Coretta Scott King

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There had been no meeting that night- everyone was too tired and too distraught to even think about formulating another plan. It was not long before everyone had crashed into bed, snoring gently as though nothing unusual had happened that night. Only one person stayed up in the house- Hestia, at Draco's side, administering medicine and potions to the young man periodically.

Ginny rose the next morning to nice smells from the kitchen. She was staying in an old guest bedroom on the second floor. She preferred it even to her own room at home- or what had been home. The Burrow, which had become the Order's headquarters just months after Dumbledore's death, was now burned to the ground, destroyed in the most devastating raid the New Death Eaters had made yet. The remaining Weasleys had been homeless, left with nowhere to go until Neville had come along. Neville, an active member of the Order working as somewhat of a spy within the Ministry, offered up his ancestral home to be the new headquarters. The Order had taken it gladly.

Facing the east, Ginny's bedroom filled with streams of sunlight in the morning. Decorated in white and colonial blue, the room offered a quaint, pleasant tone- more mature than the yellow and pink lace of her old room. Still in her grungy pajamas, an old pair of her father's, she trotted down the stairs. Fred and Charlie were already sitting at the kitchen table and she could see Moody out in the yard. Her mother was at the stove, frying bacon, and Ginny knew Remus would be down soon along with her father whose job it was to unlock the werewolf from his makeshift cage.

"Morning," Molly chirped, glancing over her shoulder. "Bacon or sausage?"

"Bacon," Ginny replied, coming to sit next to Charlie. She looked incredibly sleepy, rubbing at her swollen eyes. Her short hair flew around her face in an angry mane.

"Sleep well?" Charlie asked.

She shrugged. "Did you?"

"No."

Ginny wasn't sure she'd ever sleep well again- not after that ordeal.

"He's stable," Charlie said. "Hestia just came in and told us."

"Yipee," Ginny said blandly, picking at the bacon Molly had just put in front of her. Charlie shook his head.

"You should be glad. You did well last night."

The image of the boy's face suddenly flew into her head- Draco Malfoy's face. The surprise, that gut-wrenching feeling of misunderstanding- it was all coming back to her.

She didn't respond.

"Ginny, what's wrong with your hand?" It was Fred who asked, looking anxiously at her makeshift bandage still crusty with blood. She had forgotten about the wound until now, as though the constant, painful sting had become normal to her existence.

"I tripped last night. I fell on the axe."

"You what?" Molly screeched, already hurrying over and grabbing the girl's hand. Ginny's face contorted in pain as her mother inspected the bandage, pulling it off though it stuck and snagged. "We need to get this cleaned out and put some real bandages on it."

Mrs. Weasley was quick to fill the basin with warm water and directed Ginny to submerge her hand within it. She went the rest of breakfast like that- her left hand soaking in water, her right picking at her food.

It was when Molly finally deemed the gash clean enough for dressing that Hestia came into the kitchen, purple smudges beneath her red eyes. Going straight for the coffee, she hadn't uttered a word until her first cup was gone.

"He's going to be alright," she said to no one in particular.

"How is he now?" Molly asked, winding cloth around Ginny's hand.

"Sleeping, finally. It took all night, but I think that hellebore finally kicked in. He'll probably stay that way for a good day or two."

"Are you staying then?"

Hestia sighed, "I don't think I can. I need to get back to St. Mungo's."

"What about the boy?"

"Even if I could take him to St. Mungo's, he's not well enough to make the trip. I wouldn't dare to move him again at this point."

"I don't think the healers at St. Mungo's would be too happy to see him either," Charlie added.

Ginny snorted, "That whole 'known Death Eater' thing might make them a bit uncomfortable." Fred seemed to find this amusing, but Molly was quick to throw a stern look at her daughter.

"Ginevra Weasley, we'll have none of that."

Ginny made a face. She hated when her mother called her that.

"Then what are we going to do with him?" Molly asked. "He can't just stay here, can he?

"I've just had a chat with Alastor and Arthur and they seem to think that it would be the best idea." Molly look a bit alarmed at the thought, but Hestia rushed to reassure her, "There's no place safer at the moment, especially after the wards Alastor reinforced last night. I'll be able to make as many visits as I can. In the meantime, I figured I could give you all some directions on how to look after him. It won't be hard. I've already got some simple potions he needs to be given and he'll need someone to watch him for the next few days while he's sleeping to make sure nothing goes awry. You know what its like to have a sick boy around more than anyone, I'm sure, Molly."

"More than I'd like. But I've had magic to help my boys and without being able to use it here, I'll admit that I'm a tad worried."

Ginny almost snorted. Her mother probably knew better than Hestia what to do with an ailing boy. She wasn't worried about that- no. She was worried about what to do with an ailing Death Eater under her roof and Ginny was wondering too.

"Just follow my directions and he'll be fine. You're a mother, Molly. You'll know what to do. Have Ginny help. She's got talent and promise. Lots of promise."

"Promise?" Ginny said curiously, "What do you mean?"

Hestia smiled at her, much like she had smiled at Moody the night before, "You did well last night- very well. Have you ever thought about becoming a mediwitch?"

To be perfectly honest, Ginny hadn't. She always thought mediwitches were girls like Hermione- overachievers and viciously smart. Sure, Ginny had always done well in her classes and was known to throw a mean curse, but she'd never had the grades necessary to get her into a medical university, much less the money. She'd never thought that she, plain old Ginny Weasley, would be good at saving people's lives.

So she shook her head.

"Funny that. You're a natural, girl."

"Thank you."

But she wasn't a natural. She couldn't have been a natural! She had been so nervous, shaking and breathing heavy like she was running out of air. The pressure had been enough to make her break down, to simply fall to the ground and sob, but somehow she bit her lip and carried through. It was a miracle- it wasn't natural.

"When all this is over, you should consider it. I could even teach you a thing or two when I'm around."

But for some reason, Ginny was still intrigued. "I think I'd like that."

"I'm glad to hear it," Hestia said. "Hopefully I'll be back soon, but now, I'm afraid, I must be off."

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat before you go?" Molly said, but Hestia was already pulling on her deep purple cloak. She was a pretty woman, Ginny thought. Her black hair was sleek and shiny, reaching her collarbone and she was quite tall. She always wore scarves, even in the house and in the summer there was a scarf tied around her neck. And though her face was rather round, Ginny thought the way she managed to carry herself quite made up for it.

"No, I'm off to a late enough start as it is already. But thank you. Stay safe."

"Good luck."

With one last wave, she walked out into the yard. Ginny could watch her through the window, trotting across the thick plate of snow to the forest beyond. She would have to make it through the woods, then the wards and then to the train station in the Muggle village below, Ormshirk, to get close to her destination of London. It was a long trip that many Order members had to make, but it was too risky for magic. The Death Eaters, growing in power and number, we're tracking everywhere and almost everyone was in magical hiding, forgoing magic to avoid discovery. With their new charm breakers, an Unplottable Charm would draw more attention than avoid it. And though there were strong wards around Longbottom Manor, they were old ancient charms reinforced by blood and stone- not by a wand. Headquarters was therefore untraceable.

"Malfoy's not really going to stay, Mum," Fred spoke up after a period of silence, "is he?"

Molly, who had gone back to the stove, did not even look up. "I don't know, Fred. I don't know any more than you."

"But Mum-"

It was Charlie who spoke next. "He's going to stay, Fred."

"Why?"

"Because we need him." Ginny spun around on the bench to look at her father. He was wearing new robes, different from the tattered ones she saw him in last night, and he looked as though he'd barely gotten any sleep.

"Draco Malfoy?" Fred looked appalled.

"Yes," Arthur said. "We need him."

"I don't know if you've noticed, Dad, but good ol' Draco Malfoy has this little tattoo on his wrist- I don't know if you've forgotten what it means or something, but generally- it isn't good."

"Fred, I know very well what he is. In fact, I'm sure we all do."

"And you feel comfortable having him sleep under the same roof as your wife and children!" Fred asked incredulously, his voice rising so high it almost cracked.

"Yes, actually, I do."

"But Dad-"

But Charlie had cut him off, sounding sharper than Ginny had ever remembered. "Cut it out, Fred. He's staying and the two of you are going to quit it. He's certainly done a lot of shite-" Molly cringed at this use of poor language, but said nothing, "-but even people who do a lot of shite can make up for it."

"And last night, that boy certainly made up for it."

"Why?" Ginny said, "What happened."

Mr. Weasley opened his mouth for a moment, but paused with only breath coming out. "That," he said slowly, "is a story for another day."

Mrs. Weasley looked at him curiously and silently. Realization hit Ginny and she knew that her mother was as much in the dark as she was. This all was horse shite! Fred fell into silence at his father's quiet, closing words and so did Ginny.

"There's a leak in Remus's bedroom. Water's been pooling in from the roof all night," Arthur said eventually, now sitting at the table and devouring his breakfast, "Fred, I was thinking you could help me figure something out to fix it. You're creative."

Arthur Weasley was having a grand ole time acting as a Muggle, his favorite pastime - playing handyman. He had no experience in fixing anything around a house without magic, but sure enough, he was doing it. Fred was often there to help him, coming up with elaborate ideas to keep the sink from leaking or a door from squeaking. And it was amusing as hell to watch.

"Sure, Dad," Fred said glumly. He took one last bit of bacon before standing. Arthur wiped his greasy hands down on his pant leg before doing the same. As they were walking out of the room, Arthur put his arm on Fred's shoulder and said, "What do you know about plaster?"

Ginny was done with her breakfast by now and had been done for some time, in fact. But she kept pushing the remaining, slippery egg around on her plate. She had nowhere to go and nowhere to be. There was the book she'd started yesterday, but she was too tired to think, much less read. She figured she'd stay at the table as long as she could, pretending to eat. At least that would keep her from the chores she knew her mother was ready to appoint at the mere sign of idleness.

Unfortunately, Molly Weasley a bit too clever for this little ploy.

"Ginny, will you sit in with the boy today?" she asked coyly, scrubbing at a frying pan. Ginny almost sighed. So, she'd been caught.

"Yes, Mum," she said grudgingly, picking up her plate and setting it by the sink. Her open book was still sitting on the window seat and she picked it up. Waiting beside a sick bed was bound to get boring no matter if she was in the mood for reading or not.

"If he wakes up, just call. I'll be around."

"Yes, Mum."

"And I'll be in there in a little while with that potion Hestia left. I'm just going to make a bit more- better to be prepared, I'd think."

"Yes, Mum."

Oh, fate was too cruel. If living in this purgatory hadn't been bad enough, Draco-sodding-Malfoy just had to show up. Ginny still didn't understand- didn't understand how the Order could put so much effort into keeping that Death Eater alive, to not turn him in and send him to Azkaban where he belonged, to not simply leave him for dead though it was more than he deserved. No, they were letting him stay under their own roof where he could easily murder everyone in their sleep. Ginny was sure he would.

Or if not murder, something along those lines.

Draco Malfoy was evil and it seemed like only her and Fred were able to recognize it openly. Oh, if only Ron were here. Or Harry. Those two would protest- they would understand. They would kick Malfoy to the curb, get rid of him as soon as they saw him. Not take him in like a stray off the streets! Even Hermione wouldn't stand for this! It was madness!

But when Ginny pushed open that door, the boy lying on the bed before her hardly seemed evil.

In their sleep Ginny had always thought people seemed to look like little cherubs, innocent and vulnerable in their dreamy state of consciousness. When they were asleep, it looked as if they could do no wrong, like everyone was the little angel they had once been as a child.

Well, she could hardly say that about Draco Malfoy. He certainly didn't look anything near to that- a cherub. But hell, he didn't look evil either. His arms weren't crossed over his chest like a vampire and he wasn't upside down. He wasn't mumbling curses in his sleep or growling like a mangy dog. He wasn't doing any of those sorts of things.

He was guarded, clutching the sheets like he was afraid they would somehow escape. His brow was furrowed in anxiety and he was so pale, Ginny could see the veins around his temples sharp and blue. He looked pained, sore, and tortured. She could not help but feel the pang of sadness creeping at her heart.

This wasn't the Malfoy she remembered- this scared, broken little boy. Malfoy was a monster. He was sharp and biting and dark. Not fair and melancholy like the sleeping boy before her. No, this could not be the boy who had made fun of her so many times before. This could not be the boy who attempted to kill Dumbledore, and no, this could not be the boy whose father had handed her a diary so many years ago.

It wasn't him.

Suddenly, she didn't hate him any more.

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