Draco follows a few steps behind Molly as they trek through an open field. Even though it's July, there's a slight chill in the air, and judging by the haze in the starry landscape, Draco estimates it's nearing five in the morning – just before dawn. Looking up into the sky, he tries to find the stars named after him and smiles when he locates Gamma Draconis. They continue to walk in silence as his eyes follow the path of stars outlining the long serpent – or Dragon, rather.
"Your wand revealed one of the recent spells you cast was rather unique," begins Molly, breaking the peaceful silence. "Thought it was simply Appare Vestigium, but I see you used a variant – which is how I'd guess you found the Burrow. I assume you'd gone to Grimmauld place to begin your search for us?"
Draco's initial reaction is to deflect, not wanting to reveal any information, but then he remembers she's on his fucking side now — actually, he's on her side.
"Death Eater Feig has made quite a name for himself since taking the Mark after the Ministry fell. I believe he was a Healer years ago – but then was revoked of the status during the first Wizarding War for experimenting with spells — claiming he was under the Imperius, of course. Mainly using Muggles and Muggle-borns as test subjects. The Dark Lord has him manipulating all kinds of spells to make tracing the Order's movements easier."
"That's rather alarming," says Molly softly. "Which is why I didn't apparate us directly to the safe house. Is that how you splinched yourself? Using experimental magic?"
Draco glares at the witch's back for calling him out on his mishap. Then, taking a long-suffering breath, trying not to dwell on the horrible experience of being lifted in the fucking air while his side was split open, he finally speaks. "I'd never used it before – the Team Leads are all perfecting their use of the spell. I'm still technically a third-tier Death Eater. Death Eater Rosier is my direct superior – he's the only Death Eater that's successfully used the apparition trace. Well, and I guess myself now – for the most part," he mumbles.
Draco stops short when he hears a strange noise, causing him to draw his wand. "What the fuck is that?" he says, taking a defensive stance. He watches as Molly continues to walk, unbothered, as some kind of strange creature approaches her.
"Nothing to worry about," she laughs. "Just a cow."
Narrowing his eyes, Draco sees the "cow" isn't alone — there are at least thirty or so of the ugly beasts milling about the field. "Where the fuck are we?"
"I'm not supposed to say –" the witch starts, causing Draco to roll his eyes. But then Molly looks back at him with a smirk. "Cumbria."
"The Lake District?" he questions, noticing the rolling landscape and a lake in the distance.
"I expect you were around here during the dairy farm raids," states Molly as she keeps walking. "Voldemort finally realised he couldn't wipe out all the Muggles without cutting off his food source. That's why he's having them added to the labour registries. Wizarding folk have been benefiting from Muggles' agricultural knowledge for centuries. You didn't think your food came to be with only magic, did you?"
Ignoring her haughty tone, Draco thinks back to nearly a year ago when he was last in the Lake District. "All we were told was to capture the able-bodied Muggles and Avada the rest —" he trails off, not wanting to elaborate on his experience regarding his last kill.
"There's an old dairy farm nearby — the Muggle family was slaughtered after defying The Cause by becoming informants for The Order," she says stiffly. "The bothy isn't too far – that's where we're going."
"Bothy?"
"It's where the farmhands live — lived. Order safe house now."
Sensing Molly's shift in demeanour, Draco wordlessly continues to follow, still warily eyeing the "cows".
After another twenty minutes of walking a steep incline, they stop in front of a pitiful-looking stone structure Draco can only assume to be the bothy. It's smaller than his childhood wardrobe, and the thought of sharing such a small space with the witch has Draco seriously reconsidering his life choices.
He's also strangely impressed by Molly's stamina. The witch essentially just waltzed up a fucking mountain, barely breaking a sweat.
"I've already added you to the wards," says Molly as she gestures for him to enter.
"Right, the same wards you had on that hovel you called a home?"
Molly ignores his comment as she moves towards some shabby-looking sofa and grabs an old blanket. Draco looks around the small space and sees a small kitchen area and a bed in the corner.
"Where's the loo?" he asks warily.
"Outside."
"Right," he sighs. "Is there a reason why I can't stay at the manor? I can still meet you here to give you information."
And again, the witch ignores his questions as she tosses him the blanket and pats down the sofa, eliciting a puff of dust.
"You've got an hour to sleep, and then we'll get to work."
"Get to work?"
"Like I said, where do you think we Wizarding kind get our food? We're going to make use of those cows come morning," Molly says as she sits at the table and begins to write something down with what he assumes to be a Muggle pen.
"So, you expect me to risk my life spying for the Order so I can help you – make proper use of a cow?" He questions annoyedly as he sits on the sofa, eliciting another puff of dust. "This place is fucking disgusting."
"You'll also be helping me turn this into a proper safe house," she says, not looking up from her writing. "And given how your old friends have been killing us more and more by sniffing out our use of magic, you need to learn how to do things the Muggle way – which is why you'll be staying here. The less magic we use, the better. Unfortunately, my voice is being overshadowed, and you're not the only person who thinks it barmy to only use magic when absolutely necessary."
Draco shifts into a lying position as he pulls the musty blanket over his body, not knowing what to say.
"Now sleep – I'll wake you in an hour."
Too tired to argue, Draco begrudgingly closes his eyes and, in his exhaustion, promptly falls asleep. Unfortunately, it only feels like two seconds pass before he hears the voice of Molly fucking Weasley telling him to wake up. Opening his eyes, he can see through a broken window that the sun is up, indicating he did actually sleep for an hour.
"Fuck," Draco groans, sitting up. Looking around, he can see the place is much tidier and spots Molly sweeping the last of the dust out the front door.
"I've got a few eggs you can make yourself for breakfast," she says as she looks over at him. "You can use some matches to light the fire on the wood burner."
"I'm going to be honest with you, Molly," he says as he swipes a hand over his face, still trying to wake up. "I've no fucking clue what the fuck matches are or a fucking wood burner."
Molly chuckles as she sets the Muggle broom against the wall. "I'll show you. I'm not here to be your maid, so don't expect me to make your meals for you." She waves him over to show him how to light the match and then tosses it where a few logs are in some little stone cave.
"I could be of much better use if you let me properly ward this place," he says, wanting to do anything other than fucking make his own breakfast. "The wards on that poor excuse you called home were weak. It's no wonder your lot are now living on the fringes of society, barely surviving. I'm surprised any of you are still alive," he says honestly. May as well tell her the truth seeing as he's going to be helping them.
Molly calmly picks out some of the shells Draco let fall into the egg mixture and then gestures for him to place the pan near the fire. She then looks at him with that fucking smile that makes him want to gouge his own eyes out.
"You know, I'm trying to help you," he snaps in frustration at her apathy. "If I hadn't been injured, I could have fucking killed you back there! You fucking stomped into that dump like a fucking erumpent, completely unaware," he barks, hearing her fucking laugh like he's just told a joke. "You think this is funny?" he sneers. "Maybe I should have killed you so the Order would finally get a fucking clue." Feeling like he's made a terrible mistake deciding to join the Order, Draco takes the pan of eggs and tosses it against the wall in anger.
The fucking witch barely reacts as she walks over and picks up the pan, and then places it on the table. "You're going to be hungry now," is all she fucking says.
Draco scoffs, bewildered by Molly's infuriatingly lackadaisical behaviour.
"What the fuck?" he says indignantly. "If you're trying to be my mother - teaching me how to be a fucking kitchen witch - you can go fuck yourself, Molly. I'm telling you that the Order is a fucking joke, and all you care about is if I can make a fucking omelette." Draco pulls out his wand as he storms out of the shite hole and begins checking the wards.
"What the fuck?" he mutters, seeing that they're far better than even he'd admittedly be able to do.
He turns his head when he sees Molly standing in the doorway with a hand on her hip.
"I'm not trying to be your mother, Draco. This is how we survive. You think you know everything because you're a soulless killer? Waltzing into situations not giving a damn about your life or those around you?"
Draco lowers his wand, about to retort, but Molly lifts her hand.
"I'm the head of the Weasley House, Draco. I knew the instant someone was within a kilometre of the Burrow. I can tell you exactly what amateur spells you used to break through the wards. Wards that have been weakening daily since the person who placed them there died when the Ministry fell. And even so, it took you ten whole minutes to get past them," she says calmly as she narrows her eyes.
Draco goes to speak again, but she continues.
"I saw your trail of blood leading into my home. The home I had to abruptly abandon after the Battle. The place where I raised all seven of my children. The last place we were ever all together," she says, quickly wiping a tear from her eye. But then Molly takes a breath and schools her features. "I cast a Homenum Revelio and could see exactly where you were standing and used your arrogance to my advantage. The only reason I didn't Avada you was that I knew you were injured, and it would have been a shameful thing to do," she says coldly. "So, please –" she lifts her hand towards him. "Continue to insult one of the very few people in the Order that thought your wretched life was worth giving a chance."
Before Draco can respond, he feels the Dark Mark burn as he grabs his arm. "Fuck – I have to go."
"Suppose you do," Molly says with a curt nod. "Be safe."
Draco apparates directly to his bedroom and pulls on another set of Death Eater robes, feeling the second burn. "Fucking fuck," he rasps as he secures his mask and apparates just outside the meeting room. Thankfully, he enters the space before the third summons and takes his seat next to Rosier. Draco immediately Occludes, still reeling from Molly's words and the reality that this is his first meeting as an Order member spy.
Moments later, everyone stands as the Dark Lord enters the room. The Team Leads begin to give their reports on the state of things, and Draco is grateful he's essentially just a hired wand, only expected to use his skills in combat. He watches as Amycus Carrow stands, still looking forlorn about the sudden disappearance of his sister. Draco nearly laughs, thinking the wizard should be grateful the annoying bitch is gone.
"What is your report, Death Eater Carrow?" asks Voldemort.
"After a week of using the traditional tracking spell, Appare Vestigium, I was able to track down a pattern of movement I strongly believe is a route the Order has been using to transport Muggles. There are trace signs of magic – Fidelius and Disillusionment Charms, mostly. Rosier and I have already discussed an ambush. We believe the Order will covertly move another group of Muggles this afternoon."
Voldemort turns towards Rosier. "Are you confident in this plan?" he asks in a low hiss. Rosier stands and nods towards Amycus, who returns to his seat.
"I am confident that we will be able to catch the Order unawares at thirteen hundred hours along the Avon River. We believe they are using this route to move the filthy animals from the labour camp in Bath through Bristol. We believe they aim to reach the port and smuggle them beyond The Cause's stronghold, my Lord."
"This is the first I'm hearing that the Order has been taking Muggles from one of the camps. How is this possible?" hisses the Dark Lord. Draco can sense Rosier's hesitation before he speaks.
"As you know, the camps are run by ex-Ministry wizards and witches who pledged themselves to The Cause rather than be executed. I believe there needs to be an investigation to snuff out whoever is blatantly defying you, my Lord. I suspect there's a spy among the ranks."
Draco keeps his breathing level, wondering what ex-Ministry worker is a double agent. He also wonders what other Death Eaters sitting at the table might be working for the Order, given the lot has a fucking protocol on how to initiate the turncoats.
"McNair," says Voldemort, directing his gaze to another Death Eater near the head of the table. "Take your team to the labour camp in Bath and find the traitor. Rosier," he turns back to Rosier. "Take Death Eater Malfoy and continue with your plan to take care of the smugglers and their contraband."
After another twenty minutes of discussion, the meeting is adjourned, and Draco finds himself apparating alongside Rosier to a wooded area near the Avon River. This isn't his first ambush but given that now he's supposed to somehow sabotage his fucking directive, Draco's mind is racing, trying to figure out what the fuck he should do, hoping that whoever is travelling is transporting goods rather than people.
Given that they have a few hours before the transport passes, Draco sits on the ground and leans against a tree, hoping to devise a plan.
Of course, he could simply Avada Rosier, and whoever is stupid enough to take the same route over and over can go on their merry way — but then he'd be interrogated as to where Rosier skived off to. And given Alecto went missing recently, it would be too suspicious, and he'll be questioned.
The most logical thing to do would be to Confundus Rosier and let the group safely pass and then have Molly tell the Order to fucking come up with a better plan. Admittedly, Draco wasn't even aware that there was a labour camp. He assumed that the Dark Lord wanted the Muggles to register alongside the Muggle-borns simply because he's a fucking psycho and wants a list of all the people he's been systematically wiping out. But given the revelation Molly dropped on him about the raids in the Lake District, it makes sense that The Cause would use the inferior species to continue working the land for food.
As the hour approaches, Draco subtly continues to cast wordless diagnostic spells to detect any illusion charms, hoping to Confundus Rosier before he's aware of anyone approaching. Thankfully, he's not the Team Lead, nor was it his plan to sit for hours lying in wait, so Draco is confident he'll avoid any redirection.
…
"Malfoy," Rosier hisses.
Draco opens his eyes and internally curses realising he fucking fell asleep. He sees the other Death Eater give a subtle nod indicating someone is coming.
Fuck.
Draco moves into position, heart pounding as he quickly spots the glimmer of a Disillusionment Charm. Rosier leans in, and Draco can feel his skin prickling as the wizard whispers in a low town near his ear.
"I'll take care of the Order member — you are to provide backup and take care of the animals." Rosier flicks his wrist wordlessly, casting Finite Incantatem, revealing a large wagon with a wizard sitting at the front as it's drawn by a Thestral. Rosier apparates right in front of the wagon, and Draco apparates a moment later in the back.
"Avada Kedavara!" spits Rosier, instantly killing the wizard who'd been directing the animal.
Draco quickly lifts a large blanket lying over the wagon and sees a young girl holding onto an even younger boy. "Fuck," he rasps. Then, trying not to dwell on how the girl looks nearly identical to Pansy, he takes a few steps back as Rosier comes around to inspect.
"I told you to Avada them," he huffs, raising his wand.
"Wait," says Draco, knowing he's probably fucking everything up already. "We could question them and –"
"Avada Kedavra," says Rosier, instantly killing the girl and causing the boy to scream. Draco springs into action as he turns his wand on Rosier.
"Stupify!"
Rosier drops, stiff as a board, onto the ground, and Draco tears off his mask as he grabs the crying boy. "I'm not going to hurt you," he says quickly, pulling his flailing body out of the wagon. It's a bit of a struggle when the child grabs onto his sister's body, and Draco dulls his senses so much that all he can focus on is getting the child the fuck out of there. Draco finally drags the boy out of the wagon and then apparates with the screaming child a ways away from the safe house.
As soon as he arrives, Draco's breath leaves his lungs when the child goes limp in his arms, while his wailing instantly stops. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Draco says, seeing the blood seeping through the boy's shirt. "Oh, fuck oh fuck," he keeps saying as he runs towards the bothy. His legs begin to burn as he sprints up a fucking mountain with the child in his arms.
As soon as Draco sees the safe house, all he can think to do is call for Molly. "MOLLY!" he yells. "Fucking help me!" he cries as he holds the boy close to his chest, feeling his robes soaking up the blood. He continues to curse at himself for not considering what apparating such a distance would do to a small child. "MOLLY!"
Molly bursts out of the safe house with her wand drawn as Draco drops to his knees.
"I— I didn't mean to —" he says shakily, lying the boy on the ground. He then realises it's not just his voice that is shaking but his entire body. Never having encountered children on any of his raids before, Draco knows he's going into shock at the thought he just splinched a fucking child to death.
Molly quickly begins checking the boy with the practised ease of someone whose seen their fair share of battle wounds. "He's alive," she says quickly. "Passed out. I've got him – go back to your mission before you lead them here," she commands.
Draco stumbles back a few steps watching Molly tear open the boy's shirt and begin muttering healing spells. "GO DRACO, now!" she snaps, seeing him still standing there.
Draco apparates back to the scene of the ambush, now having to figure out how to fix this cluster fuck of a mess. Rosier is still stunned on the ground, and Draco takes a few calming breaths before he drags his Team Leader's stiff body to the front of the wagon. Then, Draco turns to the Thestral without overthinking as he casts the Killing Curse. The beast slumps forward, pulling the wagon and then falls to its side. Draco drags the Order member's body to the back of the wagon before returning to Rosier, where he does his best to Obliviate as little as possible to make his stupid plan work.
He then Rennervates and hits him with a Confundus from behind before running towards the other side of the wagon, where he points his wand at the other wizard's body.
"FUCKING HELL!" growls Rosier as he springs to his feet. "What the fuck?" he says as he comes around back to see Draco hovering over the dead Order member.
"You fucking Avada'd the beast, you fucking twat," spits Draco. "I Avada'd the girl, but this one nearly took me out," he gestures to the dead body. "The boy ran off," he adds coldly.
Rosier looks around in confusion, obviously trying to make sense of everything. He looks into the wagon, sees the girl's body, and then back at Draco with narrowed eyes before taking a few steps back. "Fuck," he says, shaking his head.
But then Rosier sneers at Draco, taking a few steps and grabs his robes as he shoves him against a tree. "I gave you direct orders to back me up, Malfoy. Instead, you went against your directive and apparated around back. I told you we needed to ensure the wizard was dead before taking out some fucking worthless Muggle children."
Draco closes his eyes, knowing that the arsehole is purposely manipulating the truth so the blame falls onto his inferior. But before Draco can call him out, they both flinch, feeling the summons. "See you at the meeting, Malfoy," says Rosier with a smirk before dissapparating.
Draco apparates to the meeting room and has to sit through Rosier paint the picture that the failure to kill the Muggle boy and letting him get away was his fault. Of course, Draco could challenge the accusation, but if he comes in with a conflicting argument, they'll both be interrogated, and it will be evident that Rosier's memory was tampered with.
"Is this true, Death Eater Malfoy? You deliberately disobeyed your superior's directive and let a Muggle child outrun you?"
Draco stands, heavily Occluding as he speaks. "I made a judgement call which led to Death Eater Rosier without proper backup. I made an error and will accept redirection, my Lord." He sits down as the meeting continues, knowing that his track record has finally gotten a blemish.
First day on the job as an Order spy, and he's already made far too many mistakes.
The meeting finally ends, and Voldemort vanishes the long table so Draco can kneel before the deranged snake man. Of course, he's been Crucio'd more times than he can count by his aunt Bella, Rosier, and a few other Death Eaters - which was painful enough. However, Voldemort is a different beast when it comes to the Unforgivable. Draco has only ever had the pleasure of being Crucio'd by the Dark Lord after Potter and his lot escaped from the manor after he "failed" to identify him when he was only seventeen.
All Draco remembers is that he embarrassingly cried for his mother - who had been forced to watch - before passing out and then waking up in his bed, barely able to move.
"This is unlike you, Draco," says Voldemort as he slowly takes out his wand and places the tip under his chin, tilting Draco's head up. "Take off your mask," he hisses.
Draco removes his mask as Voldemort unexpectedly enters his mind. Thankfully, he has been occluding since - forever, really - and knows the Dark Lord won't find anything.
"Crucio."
The pain is instant, but Draco barely flinches as he focuses on his shields. He's vaguely aware after a few minutes that he can hear his own anguished cry feeling like the torture might never end. Finally, at some point, the Dark Lord deems the proper redirection has been established and pulls out of Draco's mind while stopping the curse.
Slumping forward, Draco hears the sound of Voldemort disapparating while still reeling in pain from the aftershocks. He waits another few seconds before apparating to Cumbria, thankful he doesn't splinch himself. Dragging himself to his feet, Draco makes the agonising walk up the steep hill and stumbles towards the safe house. As soon as he crosses the threshold, he collapses to the ground.
"Draco?" He hears Molly gasp as she rushes to him.
"Is h-he ok-kay?" Draco asks shakily. Molly helps him move to his side just as another aftershock rolls through his body, causing his bladder to release. Before Draco even has a chance to feel humiliated, Molly subtly waves her hand, not saying anything, as she dries his trousers.
"He's alive – resting now," she says and then mutters some spells to help his muscles relax. "He woke up about thirty minutes ago – gave him a calming drought – poor thing was distraught."
The memory of the boy clinging to his sister's dead body floods Draco's mind, and in his pain and exhaustion, Draco's Occlumency shields begin to fall as more unbidden memories rise to the surface. He can feel Molly move behind him as she pulls him into her lap.
"It's alright," he hears her whisper as she strokes his hair. It's then Draco realises he's crying.
"I k-killed h-her," he sobs. "I k-killed P-pansy," he continues to cry as the memory of Pansy standing in front of Draco while a group of Muggles run off to safety comes to his mind.
"I'm sorry I ignored you, Draco. I'm sorry for letting my relationship with Blaise distract me from our friendship. I — I should have reached out to you. I could see you were struggling —"
"You're not the one who Marked me, Pans," says Draco, sidestepping the witch and pointing his wand at a group of Muggles attempting to run away.
"You don't have to do this anymore, Draco. I can see it in your eyes. You don't want this."
Draco ignores her as he flicks his wrist, sending an Avada. Suddenly, Pansy jumps directly into the green light, instantly dropping to the ground. It takes a moment for his mind to comprehend the sight before him as he kneels next to his best friend's body. At that moment, Draco finally feels something other than an intense rage for the first time in years.
He feels regret.
"Sh-she d-didn't even t-try to d-defend herself," he cries. "Pansy," he sobs. "She was the last person I k-killed."
"I know, Draco," says Molly. "And I'm not going to sit here and tell you it wasn't your fault –" Draco lets out another sob. "But I'm also not going to deny that you were put in a horrible position without much choice when you were just a boy. The adults in your life failed you, Draco." Draco feels Molly take his hand as another shock goes through him, causing him to hiss in pain. "Pansy joined the Order after the Battle knowing what she was signing up for. She told me that she would give her dying breath to make things right for the things she'd done."
Draco continues to cry over the death of his friend he's yet to grieve over.
"I'm s-sorry," he says after a few minutes, still lying in Molly's arms. Then, suddenly, a light comes into the small space, causing Draco to close his eyes.
"The wagon was ambushed – we can't find the boy – Wilfred is dead and —" the voice chokes up. "So is the girl."
Draco opens his eyes just in time to see the small form of an otter before the Patronus disappears, realising it was Granger's voice that spoke. He'd seen the witch use the spell at the Battle and recognised the creature.
Molly pulls out her wand, casting her own Patronus, and Draco's eyes widen when a fucking erumpent takes form.
"I've got the boy — he's resting now. I'll check in with you tomorrow."
The large animal disappears from the room, and he can hear Molly huff a small laugh. "I know what I am, and I don't give a damn, Draco. I've carried seven sprog in my belly. You can laugh. I earned this physique," she says amusedly as she subtly waves her hand to dry more urine from his trousers when another painful aftershock causes his body to seize. Draco grips Molly's arm, letting out another sob, overwhelmed and not understanding how the witch could treat him so kindly even after everything he's done.
"W-why are y-you h-helping m-me?" he asks. "H-how can y-you e-ven look at m-me?"
"Draco –" she takes a breath. "We've all done things we regret," she says sadly. "Also, there is no protocol for a Death Eater turned Order spy — you're the first. The Order simply hoped to get you loyal to our cause and send you back to Voldemort to wreak as much havoc as possible until you died. That's why they're keeping you in the dark — The Order doesn't expect you to survive being a spy for more than a few days, Draco," she says softly as she returns to stroking his hair.
The confession has him nearly laughing, now starting to see the Order members aren't quite as daft as he thought them to be. They sit silently for a few more minutes until Draco finds he can move and sit up on his own. Molly checks on the boy, still sleeping in the small bed, as Draco slowly moves to the sofa to sit down.
What feels like moments later, Draco opens his eyes, seeing he's now lying on the sofa with the blanket over him. He slowly sits up to find Molly sitting on the bed, stroking the young boy's hair. He can see out the still broken window a few stars beginning to peek through and the golden haze letting him know the sun is setting.
"So, you've volunteered to live with someone who could easily kill you?" asks Draco, still baffled by the witch.
She looks up at him with a sad smile. "If the risk of living with a very disgruntled employee of The Cause and helping unleash him on the Dark Lord is simply that I get to be with my Arthur and Fred again – so be it."
Draco says nothing, now understanding that her husband was the one who set the wards on their family home. He was vaguely aware the wizard worked at the Ministry and can only assume he was executed when Voldemort took over.
"I expect you're hungry," says Molly. Draco turns his head to see her holding a small plate of eggs. He furrows his brow in confusion and then looks at her face to see her lip lifted slightly. "I've been known to bend the rules every now and then," she winks as he tentatively takes the plate of food.
Without even thinking, Draco scoops up the eggs with his hands, not remembering the last time he ate before he sets the plate on the floor. He considers apparating back to his room to bathe in some ice-cold water and fucking change his clothes, but the thought of leaving the boy — and Molly – has him staying right where he is. So instead, he watches as Molly continues to write more notes while getting up to check on the boy every so often.
"What happens if I do?" Draco blurts out, causing Molly's head to shoot up.
"Do what, dear?"
"What happens if I successfully enmesh myself in the Dark Lord's service as an Order spy? What if I figure out a way to sabotage every mission I'm sent on without them even realising?" He gives a firm nod. "What happens if I survive?"
Molly tilts her head, glances at the sleeping boy, and then looks directly into Draco's eyes.
"Then we might just have a fucking chance."