"Draco!"

The wind howled against the window above Drake's bed. A huge blast of thunder shook the house. Drake shot up in his bed.

"Did someone just call my name?" He asked the empty room around him. He listened for a second, and not hearing anything else, settled back under his covers. "It was just the wind," he sighed.

Drake forced his eyes closed in an attempt to go back to sleep. Five minutes later Drake sat up again. Sleep was eluding the tired boy. With a sigh, Drake stood up and walked into his kitchen intent on getting himself a cup of tea.

Drake walked into his kitchen and stepped up to the back door. Before he knew what he was doing, Drake had his coat on and was forcing his way through huge gusts of wind.

"What am I doing?" He gasped and looked around himself through the pounding rain. A bolt of lightning lit up the area for a second and he gasped again. He was standing on the edge of the cliff outside of the town. Another step and he would have fallen. Drake quickly turned around and walked in the other direction. Unfortunately, a large lump getting tangled with his feet impeded his walking.

Drake fell down with a thump. "Oh bloody hell," he swore. "Lumos," he hissed defiantly at the winds, challenging the element to go and tell the Aurors that he was doing magic.

Drake looked at what he had stumbled over and swore again. A girl was lying crumpled on the ground at his feet. It was probably one of the village girls who had foolishly gone out for a walk in the rain.

Drake sighed and picked up the girl. The least he could do for the villagers was to take care of an injured girl. After all, they did put up with him, a total stranger, living and working in their town.

Drake forced his way through the wind and rain, back into his house with his burden still in his arms. He forced the door closed behind him and carefully put the girl in the bed in his sparse guest room. Drake flicked on the muggle electric lights and extinguished his wand. First aid kit in hand, Drake went over to the girl to check her injuries.

The girl wasn't in bad shape. She had only sustained a couple of broken bones, a concussion, and numerous bleeding cuts. He sighed and pulled out some bandages. It would be so much easier if he could heal the girl with magic and send her on her way in the morning. Unfortunately the girl was a muggle, and wouldn't understand why she had been healed so easily.

Drake carefully wiped some blood off of the girls face. He took a good look at the girl, trying to tell if she lived nearby so he could go find some of her relatives to take her home. The girl looked very familiar. Drake gasped and grabbed a lock of the girl's hair. He muttered a quick cleaning spell and dropped the hair in surprise. It was no wonder her recognized her. The red hair gave her away. Ginevra Weasley, the girl he hoped to never see again, was laying, nearly dead, in his guest bedroom.

Ginny stirred from her deep sleep. Slowly her eyes slid open to see very unfamiliar surroundings.

"Why aren't I dead?" She croaked. Her throat was sore and it hurt to talk.

A glass of water was thrust into her line of vision.

"Here," a gruff voice said above her. Soft, careful hands helped Ginny to sit up so she could drink some water. She slowly turned her head to look at her helper and was caught. She was caught in very familiar, very worried, grey eyes. Ginny couldn't look away for a second, but wrenched her eyes away to see the expected blond hair.

"Draco," she sighed. "Am I your prisoner now?"

He shook his head no and the normal smirk did not appear on his face. "I found you outside yesterday and brought you here. I healed your injuries for you, but I wouldn't suggest walking right now. Your body still needs a lot of rest." Draco stood up and walked out of the room. A minute later he walked back in carrying a tray with a bowl of broth in it. He stiffly put the tray down and walked back to the door.

He turned around and gave a half smile. "Take me to the Quidditch Pitch for one last game." He slipped out the door, leaving a very confused Ginny behind.

"Where is she?" Ron screamed. He was standing in the middle of Ginny's office, fuming. Hermione and Harry were standing in the doorway, poised to run if Ron decided to start throwing things at them again.

"Why doesn't anyone know where she is!" He screamed. They had already checked with Azkaban to see if Ginny had dropped of the wands. Ron had personally gone over to the prison, braving the spiders, to talk with the head of Azkaban. Ginny had not arrived at the prison. The broom Ginny had been riding was found floating over the Pacific Ocean a couple of hours later with the bag of wands tied around the handle. But, there was no sign of Ginny.

Ron turned to look at his wife and best friend with a murderous look in his eyes.

"Go tell the council that we won't be taking any more jobs until my sister is found," he snarled. Hermione turned and walked out of the room. "Maybe that will convince them that we are serious about finding my sister. Maybe they would be nice enough to help us." He ranted loudly.

Harry sighed quietly. Ron would continue screaming until he destroyed his voice. There was only one thing to do for Ron, get the red head very drunk. Then, once the handover was gone, Ron would be able to think clearly. With a small stunning spell, Harry caught his friend and pulled him out of the building. Once they had gotten to Harry's small house, Harry opened his liquor cabinet and pulled out his strongest alcohol.

Needless to say, it was going to be a very interesting night.