A/N: Hello everyone! It's been quite some time since I last updated this story, but I hit a two-year's writers block. Sorry for the inconvenience. This chapter is a wee bit short, and somewhat of a filler, but hey, it's better than nothing. Things from here on out are going to speed up a little in the action department, so bear with me! Thank you for reading!

xx

Irish

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(·_·)

Three days.

That was how much time had passed since Draco showed up at the Weasley's, dying of blood loss. He had yet to wake up. Bella sat by the bed, only leaving to use the loo, worrying her bottom lip so much that it had started to bleed. She was curled up in the overstuffed chair she had managed to smuggle from the sitting room reading a book when the first pain-filled moan reached her ears. She sat up quickly, eagerly, and her gaze collided with a pair of slightly confused grey eyes.

"What the bloody hell happened?" Draco muttered, turning his head slowly to look about the room.

Bella sighed in relief. If he was being cheeky, he would be all right. "That is my question to ask you," she replied, just as softly. "Who carved you up like you were the Thanksgiving turkey?"

Draco winced as he remembered the series of events that had led him to seek refuge at the Weasley's. Not something he wanted her to have nightmares about as well. "The short story is that I couldn't kill those muggles. We were there, at their house, amid all the cheerful Christmas decorations, and I couldn't bring myself to cast the curse. There were children, two small boys and a baby girl who couldn't have been more than eight months old. I figured out in that moment that I didn't want to be a monster, and that is what I would see in the mirror every morning if I continued to blindly follow my father. As you can see," he gestured at himself, "it didn't go over too well."

Bella's heart was racing at his confession. Who knew that he really was a decent guy? Well, she had guessed and hoped, but it only matters when the mettle is tested. Draco had passed with flying, if a bit tattered, colors. "I glad you didn't, but I'm sorry you were hurt." She reached out and smoothed his hair away from his face. He surprised her by smiling softly and closing his eyes.

"At least I woke up to you sitting there. If it had been the Weaslette, she probably would have poked me in the eye with a stick just for spite."

Bella snorted she was laughing so hard; the mental image of Ginny poking Draco Malfoy in the eye with a stick was the funniest thing she'd heard since he'd showed up. Mostly because it was a highly plausible situation.

Draco pouted at her, although inside he was patting himself on the back. This was the first time he had made her laugh since they met four months ago. Well, the first time that the laugh wasn't laced with derision or sadness.

"Draco," she asked, suddenly serious, "Why did you come here instead of to St. Mungo's or another hospital? We're lucky that Molly had so many kids and has dealt with serious injuries before. I'm not sure what we would have been able to fix without her."

Draco looked at her like she'd grown a second head. And she was supposed to be intelligent? "I have a highly-connected Death Eater for a father. I can't see it going over very well if I showed up someplace so public. There are a lot more Death Eaters among the Wizarding community than most people think. If I had gone to St. Mungo's, odds are one of the doctors or orderlies would have finished me off because they're a sympathizer. Dying really wasn't on the top of my to-do list that night, Bella."

"But you could have died coming here!" She practically yelled.

Understanding dawned on Draco; she had been worried for him. He reached out to cup her cheek with his hand. "Were you worried that I would die on you?" He murmured, amused yet oddly touched that the girl in front of him would feel that way.

"Of course I was, you bleeding idiot!" Bella blushed when she realized what she had inadvertently blurted out. She turned her face away, breaking the contact between them. She stood suddenly and marched to the door. "I'll go get Molly, she'll want to check on your wounds now that you're awake."

Draco didn't have a chance to reply before the door was shut none too gently. He winced and grinned. She must have been really upset to let something like that slip without even trying to cover it up. Maybe his father almost killing him wasn't a total loss after all. His eyes narrowed at the thought. His father would pay for his actions, though it wasn't entirely unexpected.

Draco would get his revenge.

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(·_·)

George looked up as someone stomping down the stairs caught his attention. Bella stomped past him, red-faced and scowling, calling his mother's name as she headed towards the kitchen. He supposed that it meant the ferret was awake now, as he hadn't seen hide nor hair of her in three days. Fred would be happy to know the girl had relieved herself of guard duty. His mother sped through the living room and up the stairs in complete mother hen mode. George got up and followed Bella to the kitchen.

She was leaning against the sink, staring out the window with blank eyes. She must be thinking hard with that expression, he thought. "Penny for your thoughts," he murmured, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting gesture. Fred would kill him if he walked in right now.

Bella startled slightly

"It's nothing, George. Just the resident prat getting on my nerves."

"How'd you know it was me and not Fred?" He asked, surprised. Most of the time even their mum couldn't figure them out unless she was looking at them. He wasn't surprised that it was Draco Malfoy that was putting such a discouraged look on her face.

"Besides the fact that Fred is out on a mission with the Order? He would have been trying to kiss me all ready. You are much more patient between the two of you, although," she continued with a smirk, turning in his arms, "I must say that it doesn't stretch too much farther."

George chuckled at her.

His laughter stopped instantly when she rose up on tiptoes and brushed her full lips softly against his. "Thank you," she whispered, "for being worried about me, but I'll handle Malfoy just fine."

A commotion in the yard caught their attention, and George reluctantly released her to investigate. Before he could reach the door however, his better half walked in covered in blood, followed by Remus Lupin and Kingsly Shacklebolt.

"I can't go anywhere without someone going and getting hurt," Isabella moaned, hurrying over to assess his brother's condition. George narrowed his eyes.

"What happened?" He demanded of Lupin, who was looking wearier than usual, his pallor ashen. Lupin shook his head tiredly, almost in a defeated manner. It was Kingsly who responded.

"You-Know-Who's people have infiltrated the Ministry. A law was passed today that all muggle-borns must report to the Ministry for questioning. Any muggle-born students attending Hogwarts are now expelled."

George heard Isabella's sharp intake of breath, saw her hands pause in the act of cleaning the blood off Fred's face. Poor girl, she had just found out about all of this, and now it was being taken away from her. But her response surprised him.

"Poor Hermione, she'll be completely devastated when she finds out," she murmured sadly. George agreed, but the sorrow in her voice wasn't all for Hermione, if he were to wager on it. "But that doesn't explain how you ended up like this, Fred Weasley."

Fred looked at her, almost sheepishly, and replied, "Well, there were some comments made by some current Hogwarts students about a certain misfit Slytherin when the news was released, and I couldn't let that pass, could I?"

"You most certainly could, you great idiot! What is with all you men and your need to protect me? I'm perfectly capable of it, more so than most." That last bit was said so quietly, George almost thought that he imagined it.

He wondered as to the hidden meaning of the phrase. How much about this petite young woman was still hidden in shadows from them?