AN: Dedicated to Blackmoonsilver, for all the encouragement you've given me. Glad you're enjoying this.

Draco hobbled into his bedroom and collapsed on the bed. He'd been sitting with his feet in a bathtub of cold water for ages, but the pain hadn't quite gone. He was more concerned, however, about what her reaction was going to be. He'd spilled out all his feelings in that letter, and it wasn't meant to be seen. If it wasn't for that rotten owl, no-one else would have ever seen it. He'd almost prefer it to fall into the hands of Voldemort himself than have her read it. At least no names were mentioned – just the code names they always used in their letters.

"If she does get it, please don't let her show it to anyone else. Especially Potter and Weasel, I'd never hear the end of it.

Never mind – it's too late now. Just remind me to do something about that owl when it gets back."

Draco groaned, and buried his face in his hands.

"Now I'm talking to myself. Can this day get any worse?"

…………….

"Stupefy!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego!"

The two death eaters hadn't been alone after all, and were now engaged in a fierce fight with various Order members who had been hiding in the area.

"Avada…"

"No, Ron! Don't do it! McGonagall wants them alive!" screamed Ginny Weasley.

Ron reluctantly lowered his wand.

"Did you hear them, Gin? They called us blood traitors, Mione a mudblood, and Harry, well, who knows what, but I'm sure it was equally disgusting," fumed the tall, lanky redhead.

"Orders are orders, Ron." This from Hermione, who looked as disgruntled as Ron did about the idea of keeping death eaters alive.

"Why are we all out here, risking our lives, while Ferret Face is safely back in Grimmauld Place anyway?"

"Shut up, Ronald!" Every Order member who'd heard him groaned. Would he ever learn when to keep quiet? It didn't seem likely, and he might have been giving away valuable information, had anyone else been around to hear it. He never seemed to realise that standing in a forest close to Voldemort's suspected hideout and shouting Order secrets was a bad idea. His big mouth was going to get him into trouble sooner or later.

……………..

Draco paced around his bedroom, trying not to panic.

"She should have replied by now. She always writes straight away – it's too risky for the owl to sit there for long – it might be recognised. I've blown it. I've lost her. I know I have. What am I going to do?"

Two hours later.

"What's happened to her? Is she alright?" Still pacing the room, Draco looked terrified, and totally unaware of the hole he was creating in the carpet.

"Calm down, Draco. She'll be fine, she always is. It's a war, maybe she hasn't had chance to read it yet."

Little did he know how true that was.

……………..

"Five minutes. Five BLOODY minutes. That's all I want. Everybody just shut up, leave, or something. PLEASE!"

She'd never say it out loud though – she was far too polite. However, this endless meeting was going on for far too long. They all knew what had happened – the death eaters had been prepared for an attack, the Order hadn't expected it, and that was that. Simple. No need to go on about it so much.

"One day," she thought longingly. "One day, I'll be able to go home and forget this war ever happened. It'll just be a story everyone tells the kids. And with any luck, they'll never experience it like we have."

AN: Who do you think Draco's mystery woman is? Any ideas? Review and let me know.