Almost an hour had passed in the tiny room. I stayed sat, scowling, with my knees tucked to my chest. The grooves of my wand provided my only distraction, and I ran my thumbnail along them as I waited. Draco's face was indiscernible. He didn't move from the floor, sitting like a child. He seemed dark, troubled — perhaps even more so than normal. Fresh grievances sprang to my mind every few minutes, but I bit my tongue to prevent voicing any. I knew it was childish and petty to be angered by his mention of Pansy, but I couldn't help the fact I was hurt. Not only did I detest the girl — who'd enthusiastically partaken in Daphne's teasing of me at Hogwarts — but Draco himself had treated me with such indifference, compared to how I'd imagined our union would be. That was probably for the best. I clearly couldn't be trusted to keep my distance, and I'd appreciate the fact in time. But being trapped in this room, alone with him, denied me the space necessary to readjust to rational thought.

Finally, he spoke.

"You think the death threat's for you, or me?"

I didn't answer at first, prolonging my juvenile silent treatment.

He scowled. "You don't need to be so fucking cold, Greengrass."

"Since when am I Greengrass to you?" I snapped, unable to help myself.

"Since you made things that way," he retorted. "What do you want from me, exactly?"

"Nothing." I couldn't meet his gaze. "I just… want you to be okay."

"Save it," he spat. "You already admitted you only care because you feel in my debt."

I stared at him, puzzled, while it was his turn to look at the ground. "What are you on about?"

"Don't give me that! You said it yourself."

I shook my head softly, realising where the wires had crossed. "Not everybody sees the world in terms of debts, Draco."

"So you don't feel beholden to me?"

"Of course I do." Clearly I hadn't learned. Here I was, ready to bear my soul to Draco once again. "But I wouldn't pretend to care about you for that. And I'm not accepting any more gold," I warned, "I'll pay it all back. Every last knut. I'm embarrassed Daphne even asked in the first place."

"Don't worry about that."

"Well, I do."

"Don't. I don't care about the money."

"That makes me feel better," I said, my voice dripping in sarcasm.

We fell silent again for a moment. I considered blasting through the door, wondering how strong the ministry defences would be. I wasn't afraid at all — the whole thing seemed ridiculous. Likely, the death threat was for somebody far more important, and this was only a collateral nuisance.

"Daphne told me something else too," Draco said quietly.

"I assumed she had to give you some explanation for where it would go."

He picked at his shirt cuff, nonchalance forced into his voice. "She told me this is why you… said goodbye. That day in St. Mungo's."

I squirmed in my seat, uncomfortable with the memory. I recalled the pain fresh in his eyes, feeling it in my own chest.

"I didn't really believe it," he added quickly. "I just think it would be good to know."

I stared in amazement. When he finally met my eyes, it sent a thrill through me.

"Of course that's why," I whispered. "I want to be with you."

I couldn't help it, then. Slowly, so he could stop me with a single word, I lowered myself to the floor beside him. His expression didn't change as I took his face in my hands, my palms tingling at the touch.

"Tori… I'm no good for you."

"I'm no good for you," I said. "My days are marked, Draco. It would be beyond selfish."

"Selfish, to give me all you have? Not a chance."

"You know exactly what I mean."

"No, I don't."

He leaned in even closer. I closed my eyes, waiting for the kiss, but we only hovered with foreheads pressed together.

"What would be selfish," he continued, "is to sentence you to spend those days as a Malfoy. What Marcus did to you, calling you a death eater… It would be so much worse with me."

My left forearm twitched. Thankfully he didn't notice, too absorbed in his own anguish, his brows knitting together. I considered, for a moment, showing him the dark mark now on my arm. Proving that things would be worse regardless. But I found I couldn't do it. It had become so wrapped up in secrecy, it was almost like it wasn't really even there. The second I showed someone, anyone, it would become real. And Draco most of all — to have him look at me differently, as though I represented everything he hated, would be too painful to bear.

"I don't care," I said.

"And neither do I."

"It's different," I insisted, pulling back. "I'd be wasting your time."

Before he could respond, the walls began to shake. Gently at first, almost vibrating, and then building up to a full blown tremor. Plaster dust fell in trails from the ceiling, covering us both and the sofa in what looked like a blanket of snow. We reached for each other instinctively, and Draco tucked my head into his chest protectively, bracing against the sofa. I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking fast, wondering if I ought to blast the room apart to escape or if that would make the destruction worse.

When the peak finished, and it calmed down to a mild trembling again, we drew apart. Cracks lined the walls and ceiling, with small chunks crumbled away.

"Should we leave?" I asked, biting my lip.

"I'm not fucking dying in here," he frowned.

Realising his words, he glanced at me anxiously. I pretended not to notice.

"How do you think the door's sealed?" I asked, walking across and placing my palms flat against the wood.

"Knowing Weasley, it won't be a complex charm."

"That was Ginny's brother?" I asked, surprised.

Draco snorted. "They probably make up one in six of our population."

I ignored his remark, drawing my wand and considering for a moment.

"Alohomora," I tried, deciding to start with the basics.

The door clicked open.

"Told you," he muttered, as I gaped for a moment.


Draco kept close as they worked their way quickly through the maze of ministry hallways. He felt naked and vulnerable without his wand, and weakened from the days spent imprisoned. Probably for the best, he thought bitterly, to be unarmed. If he came across the ministry scum now, amongst this chaos, he might want revenge.

Every now and then the walls would shudder and groan, and they would freeze in place, ready to brace again. Draco found it hard to keep his eyes away from Tori, her own eyes narrowed in concentration as she led them through. He'd been so worried she would be weakened by her condition but, on the contrary, she was bursting with more vitality than ever before. It enchanted and entrapped him, clearing his mind of all will to object their union. Still something niggled in the bag of his head, only coming fresh when they reached the dark, cold corridor leading to the courtrooms.

"Pansy," he realised.

Tori stiffened.

"We can't leave them there," he tried to reason, "this whole place could cave in."

"We need to be heading upwards," Tori said, avoiding his gaze.

He was bemused for a moment by the cold tone to her voice. Was she jealous? Of Pansy? The thought almost made him laugh. Though she had been a fling of his youth, they'd never shared a connection deeper than convenience and expectation. They'd stayed in contact after the war, more at the push of their parents, and remained officially 'together'… but it never felt right. Still, they had that shared history, and Draco couldn't leave her here to be buried in rubble. Not wand-less and alone.

Tori shifted uncomfortably, clearly still unconvinced. "Won't we get into trouble? Helping them escape?"

At that, the building gave a huge shudder once more.

"Let's be quick," she muttered, keeping her wand high as they made their way to the cells.

Draco gave a shudder, being back so soon. The place was entirely empty of wizards on guard. Most of the prisoners were waiting at the bars, clutching them in terror. As soon as they saw Draco and Astoria, they began pleading and shouting over one another, begging to be let free.

"Are we doing them all?" Tori asked uncertainly.

"I don't know." Draco tried to think. "What's the harm?"

"That we might be killed on sight?"

"No wands down here," Draco reminded her.

They reached Pansy, clutching at her bars just like the others.

"Draco?" Her eyes widened. "What's going on?"

"I don't think alohomora will be enough this time," Astoria murmured uncertainly.

Draco grew close to frustration at the absence of his own wand. "Try."

"What's happening?" Pansy asked again.

"We don't know," Draco said, almost snapping in impatience. "Astoria, unlock the fucking door."

She shot him a dark glare, but decided against arguing. "Alohomora."

The door in the bars remained stubbornly locked.

"Try something else," Draco said.

"Like what?" she snapped.

"Blast the thing open!"

"I don't want to risk it!" She glanced around. "This whole place feels close to caving in, already."

Draco took a deep breath, trying to calm them both. "Can I use your wand?"

Tori didn't answer.

"Trust me," he pleaded, looking deeply into her eyes.

She handed it over. There was something intimate in the exchange, in the same way there had been in the penseive. Draco held it with far more care than he would his own, but wasted no time.

"Diffindo."

He sliced through the iron bars, carving a huge archway for Pansy to come free. He held her arm, helping her out, while Tori took her wand and set to work on the other cells. Draco noticed her wince as each witch or wizard, all dangerous looking, loomed over her before sprinting past. She made quick work of the job, and they all headed out behind the crowd of inmates, Pansy silent at the rear. Before they even made it to the lift, the building let out a huge shudder once more. They all turned in horror, as the din behind them echoed loudly through the halls, and they saw the building crumble completely and burying the cells.

"Run!" Draco yelled, grasping at both Tori and Pansy, pushing them forward.

They wouldn't all fit in the lift, he knew this, but still they pushed onward. Draco wasn't yet revived enough for this, and his legs pained in defiance. He saw the lift bars close, the inmates all packed in tight like a jar of sardines. One gave an ugly, toothy grin, as he pressed a button and it slowly rose.

"Fucking assholes!" Draco shouted, pummelling the bars to no avail.

"What are we going to do?" Pansy whimpered.

Tori muttered a spell under her breath, conjuring a new platform into the empty lift space.

"Don't fall off," she warned, as they all huddled together in the middle.

The racket drew closer and closer, the stone and rubble still caving in and burying the place. Draco fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut as Tori pointed her wand at their feet, and blasted their platform upwards. He felt the odd swooping sensation like flying in his stomach, but before he could react too harshly to the movement, they stopped at the top level once more.

The place was absolute pandemonium. Witches and wizards were pushing and shoving to get through to the disapparition fireplaces, some even cursing or blasting others out of their way. Half the building had caved in, presumably leading down to the cells below. Draco wondered if they would ever be able to make it out alive, if the storm of people would ever diminish enough to make their way through.

The voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt boomed through the building, at once authoritative and reassuring. Draco saw him in purple robes, stood beneath the fallen statue.

"Everybody, please stay calm," he said. "We are working hard to lift the apparition wards in place. Please take the fires in groups of three, and rest assured we are doing all we can. We-

A jet of green light. A stunned Shacklebolt flinching as though he'd been shot in the chest with a muggle shotgun. His mouth opened in surprise, his eyes went blank. And then Kingsley Shacklebolt fell to the ground. Dead.

a/n: Sorry for the wait, things have been full on here! Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and enjoying, it warms my heart to know other people care about this story like I do. I'll have a more consistent upload schedule again from now on :)