When he woke in a bed that was not his own, Draco panicked.

Sitting upright in the bed, he felt his heart skip a beat, felt his stomach turrnover in fear; but then, it all came flooding back to him. The battle, the escape, and the return to the Burrow. He ran his hands over his face, letting out a deep breath, his heart calming. His mind strayed to the girl a few floors below him and wondered if she was awake too. Rising from the bed, Draco shed the pajamas he'd been given and changed back into his once discarded clothes. He came to stand before the mirror that hung over the dresser on against the wall, staring into his reflection for several long moments. It was almost as if he could not recognize the person he had become.

Despite the early hours, he exited the room and took to the stairs, returning down to the kitchen which to his surprise was already occupied. "Oh, good morning." Arthur Weasley turned to him as he entered, catching him slightly off guard. Draco had not been prepared to face another human being so early in the morning. "Remus told me you'd arrived last night." Arthur went on, running a hand through his patchy red hair, a light-hearted grin on his face. "I've of course only just got in."

Of course, it was strange to be having any sort of conversation with this boy- a Malfoy of all people, standing there in his own kitchen. Arthur supposed weirder things had happened though, like when Harry Potter himself had shown up years before. "G-good morning," Draco stumbled through his greeting, shifting from one foot to the other, feeling more awkward than he'd felt in all his life. What did he say to this man, to the man he'd been taught all his life to hate?

"I suppose I should thank you," Arthur said after a moment, clearing his throat. He held up a mug, a silent gesture, to which Draco nodded. "You saved my daughter's life." He turned away, waving his wand to set the tea to begin brewing. When he turned back, he fixed his blue eyes upon the young man, leaning back against the counter. "Your father and I could never get along- but a son can never be blamed for his father's mistakes." Arthur offered him a small smile, taking hold of a mug and extending it out to him, a peace offering. "Welcome to the Order."

Draco felt something inside of him twist and he closed his eyes, bowing his head as he wrapped his hands around the mug he'd been given. "Thank you," was all he could say before taking a seat at the kitchen table, where he and Arthur would spend the next hour talking; talking like he'd never done with his own father.

[ x x x ]

Ginny slept like she'd never slept before.

Long hours of dreamless sleep that left her feeling more well rested than she'd felt in a long time. Rising up from the sheets, she found that the sun was already rising high into the sky, streaming in through her window. Yawning, she stretched her arms over her head, turning her head at the sound of approaching footsteps. A knock sounded and she slid her feet over the edge of the bed as the door opened. "Ah, you are awake. I was just coming to get you." Her mother smiled as she stepped over the threshold of the room. "It's not like you to sleep this late." Of all her children, Ginny and Percy had been the only ones prone to waking early. Even Bill and Charlie had enjoyed sleeping in, especially as teenagers. The twins she could hardly ever pry from their beds and Ron slept in as much as he could. It was only Percy and Ginny who seemed to rise by seven every morning, no matter the time they had gone to bed the night before. "You do too much," Molly went on as Ginny rose up from her bed, her t-shirt rumpled from sleep. "I worry about you."

Ah, there it was again.

She was surprised it'd taken her mother this long to bring it up- how she worked too hard, too many tireless hours spent outside the Burrow on a mission. Ginny couldn't blame her mother for her attempts at convincing her to remain behind- Ginny was her youngest, her only daughter, and for a long time had been the only one out of any real danger. But, now she was old enough to be part of the Order, and now Molly had to worry constantly over her children. Especially this one, her stubborn, willful daughter that seemed to always be finding herself in a dangerous situation. A daughter that had already become a target to the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

"Mum, I'm fine." Ginny said softly, reaching out to touch her mother's hand, looking into her eyes; eyes that mirrored her own. "We're all fine." She clarified, speaking of her siblings, all of whom were out doing their own thing. Molly, who's eyes had begun to fill with tears, gave a wobbly sort of smile and nodded. "Besides, how can you worry about me? I'm way more capable with a wand than any of them." At this comment, Molly choked on what sounded more like a laugh than a sob, and mother and daughter embraced. "Is Draco up?" Ginny then asked, changing the subject as she released her mother to dig through a drawer, looking for clean clothes.

"He had breakfast with your father and Remus," Molly said, her words surprising Ginny enough that she turned back around. "Your father likes him." This was true. Arthur had come to her just after they'd finished eating to tell her so. "He was spoiled as a kid, but he's not evil." Ginny nodded, turning back to the drawer to pull out a fresh pair of jeans. "Remus has already spoken of him participating in a mission tomorrow." Ginny shrugged, as if she didn't care much, as if she didn't already have a plan of her own formulated in her mind. "I'll make you something to eat," she changed the subject, moving on to her next favorite topic: how Ginny was far too thin.

"Alright, mum. Bring it up, will you?" She held up a towel, indicating she was going to hop into the shower. Molly nodded before slipping from the bedroom, Ginny close on her heels, her towel clutched tightly in her hand. Into the bathroom she went, closing the door behind her, and dropping the towel onto the sink. Stripping from her night clothes, she turned the spray on and climbed into the shower, relishing in the warm spray.

Alone in the shower, she finally had time to think about all that had happened over the last twenty four hours. The battle... The thrill of adrenaline pumping through her veins... The pain of the Cruciatus Curse. She reached a hand up, fingers grazing the tender bruise on her temple, reminded of the white-hot pain she had felt in the moment. It had been her first hit with such a curse, and she wasn't about to admit to anyone how painful it had been. Nor would she admit how weak it had left her feeling, even now hours after.

Thanks to Draco she was still alive, she thought as she recalled how closely she had come to losing her life. The Killing Curse... Had Draco not stepped up at that moment, the Killing Curse would have been fired and she'd be dead. In all her life, Ginny had never thought there would come a time that someone would protect her like that. It gave her chills, thinking of how Draco himself could have died instead, all for her.

She rinsed the soap from her hair and turned off the shower, climbing out into the steamy room. Wrapping herself in her towel, she exited the bathroom which was so convientently located across the hall from her bedroom. Shutting the door behind her, Ginny dropped her old clothes on the floor and was reaching for her fresh clothing when the knock sounded. Thinking it was her mother, she called "come in" without turning around, and heard the door open.

Draco's heart was pounding.

When Molly had enlisted him to take Ginny her lunch, his stomach had lurched- not in a bad way, but a nervous sort of way. But why? Draco pushed away the flutter of butterflies in his stomach and took the tray from Mrs. Weasley, taking to the stairs with a quick nod. Why did he feel so nervous? Because he'd never been in her bedroom before? Or any girl's bedroom for that matter. Not to say Draco wasn't experienced in the other sex, but he'd never been in a girl's room before. Especially a girl like her.

A girl like her...

Just what did that mean anyway? Draco didn't even know her, so why was he thinking of her like that? Why had he already committed to memory the sweetness of her smile, the flash of her eyes? It all felt odd and he wasn't sure he enjoyed the rush of nerves as he reached her doorway. But, through it all he managed a quick knock against the wood and heard her voice from within calling him in. And so, he went.

Draco stood for several long moments, his eyes widening in his face as he took in the sight of her; she was wrapped in a white towel, her every curve more apparent to him than ever before. He'd noticed her of course in school- how could you not, with her fiery hair and matching personality? He had noticed how she'd blossomed into a beautiful creature, as had many others, but he'd never had admitted to his friends he thought her that attractive. She's as attractive as a blood traitor can be, I guess, he recalled saying to Pansy and Blaise one day in their sixth year. He had always mocked her brother's for their bright red hair, but had often thought hers to be lovely the way it fell down her back in waves.

Turning around, Ginny found herself to be staring at Draco, rather than her mother as she had thought it would be at her door. "Oh!" Ginny clutched the towel around her a little more closely, well aware of Draco's eyes upon her. "I thought you were my mum."

"She asked me... To bring your lunch..." Draco mumbled helplessly, holding up the tray with a sandwich and a cup of soup on it. "I'm sorry." He blurted, making to set the tray down on the nearest flat surface, his cheeks warm. He was well aware of her long red hair, dripping wet over a shoulder, he was well aware of every inch of her exposed skin.

"It's alright," she chuckled, seemingly nonplussed by his entry into her bedroom, and she smiled. "Thanks for bringing it up." Draco turned away from her then, halfway out the door when she spoke again. "Hey," he turned back, keeping his eyes trained on hers. "Just let me get dressed, then let's talk." Draco's face remained passive, but he then nodded, stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

He leaned back against the door, breathing in and out, pushing away the thoughts of Ginny wrapped in her towel. He had been with women before- women other than Pansy, that was, and none of those moments had been as intense as this one. He calmed himself down, breathing deep as he waited for the sound of her voice, calling him back into the room. When it came, he slipped back inside, making to leave the door ajar before she gestured for him to close it all the way.

She was sitting on her bed when he entered, fully dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt, the tray he'd brought up now placed before her. Now that the first entry to her room had passed, he had a chance to look around, taking in the sight of her room; it was small, he noted, her bed on the wall opposite from the only window. The first thing he noticed was the Gwenog Jones poster, reminding Draco that Ginny was a talented Quidditch player. The next thing he noticed was the other small bed, placed against the other wall which held a Weird Sisters poster- that bed was neatly made, with a single book sitting on its pillow. "Hermione's bed," Ginny's voice piped up, noticing where his gaze had fallen. "She sleeps in here with me when they're here." Draco turned back to look at Ginny, who gestured for him to sit- "anywhere," she specified, for there was a desk with a chair, as well as both beds he could sit upon.

Taking the desk chair, he couldn't help but to notice what was on her desk- a framed photo of her and her family as well as an unfinished letter to Luna Lovegood, who Draco knew to be out of the country with her father. After her kidnapping a few years back, the last place Xenophilus Lovegood wanted to be was England. In that moment, Draco realized that it wasn't always through death that war took friends. "Where did they go?" Draco asked, turning his attention back to Ginny, realizing her statement had indicated that The Golden Trio wasn't always around. He had heard whispers of what they had been up to- searching for something that made Voldemort immortal. But what, he'd never been told. He hadn't been privy to such sensitive information yet.

"I don't know," Ginny admitted, looking down at her food when he spoke to her. "They had only happened to be here that night of the battle." She remembered how the night before they had arrived, a night of rest and recharging, of real food and a little comfort. She remebered how she had spent an hour with Harry, locked away from all the others. "But whatever it is, it's important." She too knew only the amount that Draco knew in regards to what it was they were searching for. Harry had told her it was best she didn't know, in hopes it might offer her a little more protection if she didn't know the truth. "Speaking of doing something... I had an idea." She tilted her head, red hair a waterfall over her shoulder, still two shades darker from the water. Draco found he longed to run his fingers through it. "About what we can do."

Draco was taken back that first night, hours after he'd rescued her from his father and the others. He was taken back to that very first conversation, to when she had told him everything was going to be okay. He peered across the room at her, with her brown eyes wide and bright in her face, their gaze never faltering. "Tell me." He finally said, feeling for the first time in years determined, rather than frightened. Ginny grinned and then began to speak, her words filling his mind and taking root within his own heart. Her fierce determination seemed to have gripped him too, for as he listened, he felt like this was the choice he'd always been wanting to make.

For the first time, he felt as if he could do the right thing.