Draco-

I lay in my bed, allowing no thoughts into my head as I tried to clear my mind. Downstairs I could hear the fire crackling quietly in the drawing room, and I tried to block it out- he was down there, by that fire, no doubt plotting some other way to reach Potter. He didn't think I could do it. He thought I'd mess it up again, and then he would kill us, my mother, my father, myself- maybe even Bellatrix, although I doubted it. She was far too loyal a servant to him to be dispatched of. Still, he was unpredictable and dangerous when he was in his best moods- if I failed him, he would no doubt in in such an awful, terrifying mood that I fear it would be likely that everyone who ever talked to a member of the Malfoy family would be slaughtered in their beds.

I shuddered, pulling the satin quilt higher around myself, as though it could keep the dangers and terror that awaited me outside of my bedroom away from me. A silly, childish thought, I scolded myself, mentally shaking myself. I was not a child to go running and hiding under his quilt when things got a bit scary.

But this isn't just a bit scary, said a tiny voice in the back of my head, and I sighed, sitting up. The voice was right. This was completely terrifying. I couldn't do this, and yet I knew I had to. But the Weasley girl was probably in her own bed right now thinking about Potter, dreaming about Potter, wishing for Potter- I sounded jealous, I thought with heart stopping realisation. But that was ridiculous. I hated the Blood Traitor, what did it matter to me if she wanted Potter?

It does matter. If she doesn't want me, then I won't be able to complete my mission. I'll be killed, I thought miserably. No matter what train of thought I embarked on, I always reached the same conclusion- everything seemed to be leading up to my death by the hands of the Dark Lord. I shuddered again, cursing my idiotic brain for putting such thoughts into my head when I was supposed to be sleeping. There would be no doubt about exactly how much sleep I would be graced with tonight.

Nevertheless, several hours later I felt my eyes begin to droop, and I fell into a fitful and restless sleep, waking often to nightmares before forgetting them almost instantly when I closed my eyes shut tight again.

I decided against trying for anymore sleep when half past seven dawned, and I rose from my bed, the quilt in tangles from my fitful sleep, a pillow thrown across the room. I picked it back up, replacing it on the bed, before heading to my en suite.

It seemed ridiculous to be bothering with getting ready for the day ahead, to be stripping down naked and washing, when the Dark Lord was situated in the very same house, merely a couple of minutes' walk away from my bedroom door. I tried not to let this thought plague me as I quickly washed and dressed, preparing for a day of whatever He might wish to throw at me. I tried hard also not to noticed the raised, black mark of the skull and snake, burned forever into my left forearm, but my eyes darted regularly to it. If I looked closely, it seemed almost to be moving, like it did when He called us, when it burned painfully, ensnaring all of my senses, blinding me to anything that might come my way until I was beside him and he released his burning power…

"Draco!" The worried voice of my mother rang out from just outside the en suite door. I sighed. My solitary time was up. It was time to go and play host to the Death Eaters and our deranged master.

Ginny-

Just partaking in breakfast in our house is usually dangerous- the amount of people all squeezed into the small kitchen, surrounding the table whilst Mum tried to fill all our plates, as well as her own, with food, meant that several people ended up being elbowed in the ribs, or had their feet trodden on- it was normally accidental, unless Fred and George were in very rare bad moods, and then we were all subjected to the troublesome twins prods and pokes at we attempted to eat our bacon.

They seemed to be in bad moods this morning, and I appeared to be on the receiving end of a lot of their annoying prods as I tried hurriedly to finish three slices of buttered toast Mum had slid onto a plate and passed to me when I'd entered the kitchen.

Everyone was trying to act normal, but you could see on their faces, Mum and Dad's especially, that they were worried sick about Harry, Ron and Hermione. I swallowed my toast quickly, downed some juice, and squeezed my way out of the kitchen as quickly as possible.

Lying back on my bed, I thought back to my dream the previous night, and felt myself flush violently red. What was going through my head? I hated Malfoy. I still do hate Malfoy. He's nothing but a slimy git, everyone knew that. How dare he invade my half-conscious thoughts and my dreams?

Of course, I knew why he had been in my head anyway. He had, there was no doubt about it, saved my life the previous day. Anyone was bound to think about that for a while, as well as about their saviour. But why had Malfoy saved me? Why had he bothered? I was of no importance to him, and vice versa.

I recalled how I had wanted him, as well as Harry, to take me in my dream last night and shuddered. Malfoy? I wouldn't touch him with a 50 foot barge pole. I was ashamed that my unconscious mind had betrayed me in such a vile way. If I had to dream about anyone, couldn't I have a nice dream about Harry, where we could be together, without any Dark Lord, without any war, without any damn complications of any kind?

I stared out of the window at the still erect marquee and let my mind wander, let myself daydream, of a world where everything was simple. Harry and I were together, and Ron didn't mind, didn't barge in at every moment when things were looking promising… A world where George still had his ear, where Percy, however obnoxious and stupid he was, was still talking to the family, and Dumbledore still alive, and Harry's family, James, Lily, Sirius, everyone was ok….

I longed for a world where everything was normal, and He had never risen to power, never existed. I longed for a normal world.

"Ginny? Ginny, darling, come down for lunch," called Mum anxiously up the stairs.

I started, looking around. I'd been staring out of the window all morning without realising.

"Coming, mum," I called back, a crack in my voice from lack of use.

I rubbed a hand absentmindedly across my face and found tears streaming relentlessly. How long had I been crying for? I wiped away the rest of my tears, and pulled myself up out of my sitting position, stretching my stiff muscles and swinging my hair out of my face.

"Ginny?" called Mum again, sounding more worried than before.

"I'm coming, Mum," I replied again, sighing. I understood her fear, and knew she'd be keeping even closer an eye on myself and my brothers from now on, making sure none of the rest of us went missing like Ron, Harry and Hermione.

"Harry…" I whispered to myself, another stray tear falling. "Oh Harry, please be alright."