Author's Chapter Notes:
Here is the next chapter! Only one chapter and a very short epilogue after this. I still haven't written the epilogue, or the last scene of the last chapter, so it'll likely be another week before I get the end up. If it's going to be longer, I'll update on my fic journal – (livejournal username – rainywinters). I will likely also tweet updates. I'm elizabethkking on Twitter.

Chapter Ten

Ginny finished reading her magazine about ten minutes after Draco left. She tossed it aside, stood up, and yawned. It was still early, so far as she was concerned, and she was just thinking that maybe she would take a long bath before bed when the doorbell rang.

Frowning, Ginny headed down into the entrance hall. Neither of the house-elves were there. Ginny looked through the peephole, but there was no one there.

Immediately put on her guard, Ginny took out her wand, and opened the door.

For a moment, she stared out into the night. It was extremely cold out, a harsh wind driving by. Then the air in front of Ginny rippled, and a man appeared, his wand raised over his head as he removed his Disillusionment Charm.

It was Blaise.

Ginny was so astonished that she nearly dropped her wand. "Blaise? What're—how—what are you—"

"Look, Weasley." Blaise looked rather resigned. It was only then that she noticed he was dressed all in black garb, the hood of his cloak the only thing pulled back from his face. "I'm here on official business. But you're going to want to come with me. Because it's about your son."

Draco sighed, rubbing a hand at his temple. "This is bloody useless!" he burst out. "I don't know where they'd go. I don't know what they want! I haven't been a Death Eater in years, Potter, and in case you didn't know, they all hate me now. They don't go around confiding all their plans in me."

Potter looked just as tired, and frustrated, as he was. "Look, you said you spoke to your aunt," he said wearily. "When was that, again?"

"Over a year ago."

"And she didn't give any indication about what her plans might be? What she would want to do, if she escaped?"

"Aside from killing my family? No, she didn't." Draco scowled. "You know, they probably broke out because of you, Potter. Only, your return to the wizarding world wasn't exactly kept quiet, was it? They probably all broke out to kill you." A sudden inspiration struck him. "That would make sense, actually, because when I spoke to my aunt, I told her that Granger was—"

"Potter." Draco and Potter both looked around as an Auror came up to them. With a sense of apprehension, Draco noted that he was the same one Potter had spoken to about getting protection to the townhouse and Lillian Moon. He looked between Potter and Draco and finally spared a jerky nod for Draco. "Mr. Malfoy. Aurors were dispatched to your place of residence fifteen minutes ago—"

"The townhouse, you mean?"

"Yes, but when they arrived, no one was there. One of your house-elves said they couldn't find your wife in the house, but neither of them were aware that she had left, either. Would it be normal for her to have left the house at this time of night?"

"No." Uneasily, Draco exchanged a glance with Potter, whose brow was furrowed in puzzlement. "But then, Ginny always does what she wants, no matter what time it is."

"Did she say she was going anywhere when you left?" Potter asked.

Draco shook his head. "She was just reading a magazine. I figured she'd be going to bed soon."

"Well, there was no sign of struggle or anything amiss," the Auror reported. "Would she have—"

"Harry!" Tonks suddenly lurched through the crowd and appeared at the desk. Her face was white, and her eyes latched onto Draco's face. "Draco—you're still here—good—I mean, no, it's not good, not at all—"

There was something so familiar about the look on her face, something so horribly familiar, that Draco experienced a terrible moment of déjà vu. He was on his feet before he even realized it. "What is it?" he demanded. "Tonks, what happened?"

She broke her gaze from his, looking at Potter. "Aurors were dispatched to Lillian Moon's house, and the Order was on sight, too, Remus and Dean—"

Draco banged a fist down on the desk. "Damn it, Tonks, what happened?"

Tonks looked gravely between the two of them, and then, with a sigh, settled her gaze on Draco. "He's gone, Draco. Will—he's been taken."

Harry emerged through the fireplace at Malfoy's townhouse, coughing a bit on the ash. He blinked and found himself in some sort of parlor on the first floor.

"But it doesn't make sense," Malfoy was saying, his tone argumentative. Harry looked around and saw that the blond man had already resumed their discussion, for he was glaring at Harry as he spoke. "Where would she have gone? Why?"

"I don't know," Harry said wearily. He walked past Malfoy and crossed the room, peering over the banister. The Aurors on sight were downstairs, in the entrance hall. As Harry headed downstairs to join them, Malfoy followed. Harry tossed him a glance over his shoulder.

"Look, I'm not saying it's just a coincidence," Harry said, "though it well could be."

"Yes, well, I'd rather not assume so, considering the circumstances—"

"I know, Malfoy, will you let me finish?" Harry said crossly. "Look, maybe she went after them. I don't know why she wouldn't contact us first, let us know, but isn't that what she did the last time your son was kidnapped? Didn't she go after the Death Eaters on her own?"

"Yeah, but she knew where they were last time because I'd told her." Draco scrubbed a hand through his already-mussed hair, as they came out into the entrance hall. "Because Iknew where they were."

"Do you know where the Death Eaters are this time?" Harry asked coolly. As he spoke, the group of Aurors in the room went silent. All of them swiveled around to stare at Malfoy expectantly, just as Harry was.

Malfoy stared blankly at them for a moment, and then seemed to realize what they were waiting for. His pale cheeks went pink. "No, I don't know where they are!" he burst out. "Don't be ridiculous. And I didn't—I didn't know where they were last time, either. I just had a—a hunch, is all."

"Well, that's the story, anyway," one of the Aurors muttered.

"Potter, I'd tell you if I knew anything," Malfoy said, addressing Harry alone now. Surprisingly, he didn't sound argumentative so much as desperate. "You have to believe me. Ginny and Will, they're worth too much for me to lie about this—"

"I know, Malfoy, I believe you," Harry cut in. "Anyway, if these are the Death Eaters who just escaped from Azkaban, then your father probably isn't with them. He's been out of the country, after all, and probably still is."

Malfoy stared at him for a moment. Judging by the look in his eyes, he was thinking over something very hard. Then, abruptly, he grabbed Harry by the arm and yanked him around, so that their backs were turned to the Aurors. "Actually," he said, his voice pitched low, so that only Harry could hear, "that's not true. My father's back in the country. Or he was, about a year ago."

Harry stepped aside, forcing Malfoy to let go of his arm. He tossed a quick glance back at the Aurors, who were discussing amongst themselves, leaving Malfoy to Harry. Then he turned back to Draco. "How do you know this, Malfoy?" he demanded. "Did you speak to him?"

"Yes," Malfoy said unabashedly. "So did Ginny, for that matter. But," he went on, before Harry could voice his disbelief at this, "I don't think he's with these Death Eaters, either. Or, if he is, I don't think he was in on this. He got what he wanted with Will when I gave him up to Lillian Moon."

Harry shook his head, trying to take all this in. "Malfoy, I don't understand what you—"

"Master Malfoy!" Both Harry and Draco looked around as one of the house-elves—Tasher, Harry thought his name was—came scurrying down the main staircase towards them. He stopped on the bottom step and made a quick, low bow to Malfoy. "Master Malfoy, you is getting a Floo call in your private sitting room, Master Malfoy. In the master suite, Master Malfoy."

"In my sitting room?" Malfoy looked momentarily puzzled, but then his expression cleared. "It might be—hang on, Potter, I've got to take this. I'll be right back." And before Harry could object, he charged up the stairs behind Tasher.

Harry sighed and turned back to the Aurors in the entrance hall. They began to fill him in on everything that had happened, everything they knew about Will's kidnapping and Ginny's disappearance. One of them mentioned that the house-elves had seemed a little vague upon questioning, and might have had Memory Charms cast upon them, explaining why they wouldn't even remember Ginny leaving.

Harry was just thinking he should go upstairs, Malfoy's privacy be damned, and see who had Flooed him when another Auror hurried in through the front door, which stood open. "Potter!" he exclaimed, as he came in and spotted Harry. "We've gotten word on the Death Eaters' location! And, blimey, but you'll never believe the source—"

"Forget the source." Harry looked around, and saw that Malfoy had returned; he was hurrying down the steps towards them. "If we know where they are, then let's get going. But—" He turned towards Harry, a grim, satisfied expression on his face. "You might want to make a stop first. We have to pick someone up."

Ginny struggled uselessly against the bonds securing her wrists together behind her back. She had lost track of time, tied up and locked in this small, dark closet. She had no idea if mere minutes had passed, or if it had been hours—her fear for Will drove everything else out of her mind.

Blaise had been sent to her by the Death Eaters. Every time she thought of Blaise, a flash of fury blazed through her, momentarily taking place of the fear. At first, when he'd told her that Death Eaters had escaped from Azkaban and taken Will, she had thought he was there to warn her, to let her know. But then the real truth had come out—the Death Eaters had sent him to get her. To take her by force, if necessary, though they had likely known that holding Will captive was enough to convince her to come, without alerting anyone else.

And so Blaise had been sent to fetch her, and fetch her he did, like an obedient little lapdog. She still didn't know if he had done so because he was really a Death Eater, or if he was just a captive, doing what he was told to stay alive. The former seemed more likely at this point, but Ginny really didn't care. All she cared about was Will.

The door suddenly wrenched open, and Ginny winced as light spilled in through the opening, momentarily blinding her. She blinked rapidly, trying to get her eyes to adjust. Before they did, however, she heard someone mutter, "Relashio." The ropes tying her wrists fell away, and then, just as she caught sight of a tall figure standing before her, a much smaller person hurtled through the doorway, crying, "Mummy!"

"Will?" Ginny gasped. She caught him as he launched himself into her now free arms. "Will, it is you!" she cried, holding him tightly to her. His little arms locked around her neck. Tears instantly welled in her eyes, but she didn't want to cry; she didn't want him to be upset. So she bit her tongue and just held him against her, adamant she wouldn't let go.

She didn't know how long she held him, until finally, she managed to hold him back, to get a good look at him. He had grown so much, so much, in the past seventeen months. He was no longer a toddler, but a sturdy little boy. She ran her fingers through his fine blond hair, cut shorter than she'd usually kept it, and put a hand to his face. She looked for any sign that he wasn't okay, that he'd been harmed, but he was whole and healthy. There was fear on his face, but he wasn't crying, and he smiled to see his mother again.

"Mummy, can we go home now?" Will asked.

Ginny swallowed, half-astonished at how well he spoke now, and half-afraid, for she was quite sure they would not be allowed to go home now. For the first time, she looked over Will's shoulder and looked up at the person standing in the doorway, the person who had cut her bonds and brought Will to her.

It was Blaise.

In spite of the tear tracks on her face, Ginny hardened her gaze. "Well, Blaise," she said coolly. "Can we go home now?"

The expression on Blaise's face was unreadable. "It's not that easy, unfortunately," he said. He tossed a glance over his shoulder, and when he looked around at her again, a line of concern creased his forehead. "Listen, Ginny, I'll do what I can to keep you and Will safe, but I don't know how long I can hold them off."

Ginny blinked in surprise. "What do you care about us?" she demanded.

Blaise rolled his eyes at her. "Don't be stupid, Weasley. I don't want to see you hurt, or him." He nodded at Will, who, mirroring his mother, was glaring at Blaise. "But you have to understand…I don't hold much clout with them, and Bellatrix—she's the one who's spearheaded all this. And she's angry, Ginny, she's really angry."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't suppose she needs a reason, but why is she angry?"

"She's angry at Draco," Blaise said simply. "Look, once upon a time she might have wanted to use you or Will to get Draco to fall in line, but she's past that, far past that. She doesn't want Draco on their side anymore. She just wants to hurt him, and she knows the easiest way to get to him is through his family."

Ginny swallowed. She didn't let any of her fear show on her face, because she didn't want Will to be afraid. But if what Blaise said was true, then they had no chance, no chance at all. If Bellatrix wanted to hurt Draco, then she would kill them. It was only a matter of time. Only a matter of whether she would wait until Draco arrived, to make him watch, or if she would kill them now, and leave them to be found by him.

She met Blaise's eyes, and saw that he was thinking the same thing she was. "We'll have to try to delay her," he said, "but it won't be easy. Still—" He smiled grimly, though there was no mirth in his eyes. "I've still got a card to play. Something she doesn't know."

"What?" Ginny demanded.

Blaise shook his head. "Never mind. Look, I have to take you to them. Let's go before she sends someone out here to see what's taking so long."

But Ginny grabbed Will and turned him around to face her, taking his little face in her hands. "Will, listen to me," she said, speaking quickly, but trying to force a reassuring note in her words, "we're going to go with Blaise now. And there's…going to be some people out there. Some people who aren't very nice. But I don't want you to be scared, all right? Because we're going to be okay. All right?"

Will nodded. He still looked scared but, Ginny noted with fierce pride, he didn't cry. He never had cried much.

"Good." Ginny kissed his head. "Because we're going to be brave, aren't we? Can you be brave with me?"

He nodded again. "Yes, Mummy," he whispered.

Ginny swallowed. He looked so fiercely determined, so determined to be brave, and it nearly broke her heart. Because she knew—no matter how much she tried to deny it—that there was very little chance of either of them getting out of here alive. "Good. And no matter what—no matter what—you just hold on to me, all right? Don't let go of me. And—and that will all be over soon—" She fought to keep her voice steady "—and then we can go home. We can go home, to your dad. Okay?"

Will nodded again.

"Good." He was perfectly capable of walking, Ginny knew, but she took him up in her arms anyway as she stood. She looked at Blaise. "Let's go."

Blaise led them out, down a dark corridor, which opened up into a large room. Ginny had no idea where they were—it was obviously a house of some sort, and one much smaller than the Riddle House, but that was all she could deduce.

As they came out into the large room, which was full of Death Eaters, Ginny felt that she had never been more afraid in her life. Not for herself—but for Will. Because she had no wand, she had no way of fighting against so many Death Eaters on her own. She half-hoped to see Lucius Malfoy in the crowd, because if he was there, that was at least one more person who cared enough about Will to try and save him. But he wasn't there.

Bellatrix Lestrange, however, was.

"Well, well," she said with relish, as they came into the room. Her eyes alighted on Ginny and Will with such hunger and hatred that Ginny shivered. She shifted Will in her arms, so that he was facing the other way, over her shoulder. "And here they are," Bellatrix purred. "Draco's little family."

Many of the Death Eaters in the room laughed. Blaise stood behind Ginny with three other Death Eaters, blocking her way back down the corridor, to other parts of the house.

"You wouldn't believe how easy it was to get them here, either," Bellatrix said, still addressing the rest of the Death Eaters, though her eyes remained on Ginny and Will. "Especially the boy. His dear grandmum was most cooperative, you see. Why, all we had to do was knock on the door, and she handed him right over to us."

Ginny swallowed. She didn't know how true that was, but it wouldn't have surprised her if it was perfectly accurate. She had never trusted that Lillian Moon was capable of protecting Will the way she was, the way Draco was.

"And as for the little Weasley—" Bellatrix's deranged smile widened "—well, of course, when she heard we had the boy, she was only so willing to come along and join us. Isn't that right, Zabini?" Her eyes lifted, looking over Ginny's shoulder at Blaise.

If Blaise made any indication of assent or agreement, Ginny didn't see it. She refused to turn her back on Bellatrix.

"And now we have them here," Bellatrix said. The smile disappeared from her face, and her dark eyes narrowed. "The perfect place for Draco to come and find them. Or find what's left of them, anyway."

Through the murmurs of agreement and dark chuckles that followed, Blaise's voice sounded out, clearly audible throughout the room. "Oughtn't we to wait?" His tone was bored, his words spoken without haste or urgency.

The room went quiet. Bellatrix turned to him with an eyebrow raised in an expression of contempt. "Wait? Wait for what?"

"For Draco," Blaise said. Ginny had to admit that, for someone who had claimed to do whatever the Death Eaters asked out of fear for his own life, Blaise spoke as if he weren't the least bit afraid of Bellatrix. In fact, he made it very clear, through his tone, that he thought Bellatrix not very bright. "You know, so that we can make him watch? Won't that be better?"

Ginny flinched. She knew Blaise had said he would try to delay Bellatrix, but hearing him say it still troubled her.

"No," Bellatrix snapped. "That was our mistake last time. Holding them captive, trying to lure Draco here. And what happened then? He came, and with him came the Aurors," she spat. "Aurors he led straight to us, the little traitor. Because that's who Draco is these days."

She looked quite mad, working herself into a frenzy over Draco. She began pacing, her face twisted with hatred, her eyes glittering with malice. "There was once a time when I thought Draco could still be useful to us," she seethed. "When I thought he might return to us. But there's no hope for that now," she said bitterly. "That Draco is gone. Now, he runs to the Aurors for help, now he does work for the Order. The Order of the Phoenix."

Angry muttering from the Death Eaters filled the room. Ginny wished Blaise would interrupt her, before she could keep going, but Blaise was silent.

"Now—" Bellatrix stopped in her tracks, and turned her gaze on Ginny. "Now," she said softly, "he's married a blood traitor. Now, he consorts with Mudbloods and our enemies, now, he seeks to help Potter." Her eyes were so wildly cruel that Ginny almost couldn't look at her any longer. "Now, he works to help Potter bring down the Dark Lord."

Ginny had no idea what she was talking about—that last bit was so absolutely untrue, it was ridiculous—but she couldn't really care, at this point. The angry mutterings in the room had ceased; the Death Eaters had gone still. Now, all they did was stare at Ginny in silence, their gazes murderous.

"So there will be no waiting," Bellatrix said quietly. "As much as I'd love to torture his little family for hours, as much as I'd love to make him watch—there is no time for that. Because, even as we speak, Draco is probably on his way, with Aurors and Order members to back him up."

"But don't you think—" Blaise started.

"I think that that's enough out of you!" Bellatrix snapped at him. "How strange, Zabini, for you had been so…compliant, until now. Perhaps you are having seconds thoughts? Perhaps you don't want the little Weasley girl dead after all?"

"That's not what I meant," Blaise said angrily. "I just thought—"

"Good," Bellatrix interrupted him. "If you have no problem seeing her dead, Zabini, then step forward." Her dark eyes gleamed. "I want you to do it."

A shocked silence filled the room. Ginny found she was holding her breath. She wanted to turn around, to look at Blaise, but she didn't dare. Then—after a moment's pause—Blaise stepped forward, coming around Ginny.

Ginny found herself shaking. She tried to tell herself that it would be all right, that he wouldn't actually do it. He'd said he would help them, wouldn't he? But all she could hear was his own words, echoing back in her mind. You said it yourself, Ginny. That I did what I did to keep myself alive….Malfoy…if he'd been in my position, he would've done the exact same thing. If he'd been offered the choice of death or rejoining the Death Eaters, he'd have done it in a heartbeat, and you be damned.

He was wrong about Malfoy. Draco would never let the Death Eaters kill them to save his own skin.

But what about Blaise?

For a moment, Blaise faced her, his wand in his hand. The expression on his face was peculiar. For a moment, Ginny couldn't place it, couldn't identify what she saw there.

Then she realized it. It was an expression full of regret.

Blaise raised his wand.

And then he turned, pointing it straight at Bellatrix.

Bellatrix instantly raised her wand against him, but neither of them moved, neither of them cast a curse. Bellatrix looked furious, but also confused. "What are you doing, you little cretin?" she snarled.

"You must think I'm an idiot," Blaise said. He was breathing hard, as if he'd just run a very far distance. His voice was so full of fury that he sounded a little deranged himself. "Thinking that I'll just fall in line, do whatever you say. For what? So that you won't kill me?"

"I will kill you," Bellatrix growled. "I'll kill you now if you don't—"

"Go ahead! You've already killed me, haven't you?" Blaise laughed a hollow laugh; it was a terrible sound, a dead sound, as though coming from a corpse. "Malfoy told me, Bellatrix. Lucius. He told me about the poison. He told me there's no cure, and he told me your little antidote won't work forever. How long would you say I've got, even if you don't kill me now? Maybe a year?"

Ginny stared at him in horror. What was he talking about? Lucius Malfoy? A poison? What could he mean, he only had a year to live? That couldn't be true, he was there, right there, standing on his own, tall and healthy and able—

But she didn't have time to finish the thought, and neither Blaise nor Bellatrix had time to give any further explanation. Because right then, a tremendous bang!sounded out, like an explosion. The whole house shook, and Ginny fell to her knees, clutching Will to her, placing a hand over his head to protect him. She tried to look up, to see what was going on, but then, as the house shook again, the lights in the room stuttered and went out. Darkness enveloped them all.

The Death Eaters were shouting, running around. Ginny felt someone push past her. Terrified they would be trampled, Ginny took a few steps back, still holding Will to her. If she could just get to the corridor—

In the darkness, someone grabbed hold of her. Ginny let out a gasp and tried to break free, struggled to fight back—

"Ginny, stop, it's me!" Blaise's voice spoke through the darkness. Ginny's eyes were beginning to adjust now, and as she stopped fighting, she looked up at the person holding onto her and saw Blaise's dark eyes. "Come on, we'll go out the back—"

But they'd only taken a few steps when some of the lights flashed back on. Blaise and Ginny froze for a moment, and Ginny looked around, taking in the situation. She, Blaise, and Will were at the back entrance into the room, just shy of the corridor. The room itself, however, was full of people—all the Death Eaters—and other people, too. Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix, people Ginny recognized. And standing at the forefront of them all, leading the charge, were three men. Ginny's jaw dropped.

It was Harry, Draco, and—Ron.

Ron. Ron. Seeing him drove out any other astonishment Ginny might have had, about seeing Harry and Draco working together. Forget Harry, forget Draco—Ron was there. Ron was alive! And in that instant, seeing him there, alive, well, wand raised and glaring around at all the Death Eaters, Ginny realized that—no matter what she had said—she had always been afraid, just a little afraid, that he wasn't alive. That he was dead, even though she'd insisted he wasn't, even though Harry had brought news that he was alive.

But now he was here. With Harry, with Draco, and, Ginny realized, the rest of her family, and the Order, they were all here. All here, fighting the Death Eaters. Even though they were far from being safe, far from being out of danger, Ginny experienced a huge wave of relief. She had despaired, knowing she had no chance against so many Death Eaters, by herself, but here they were, all of them. Now they had a chance.

The lights flickered again, but only for a second, and then they remained on. Neither Ron nor Harry had seen her; they were both dueling Death Eaters, jet of lights shooting from their wands as they cast curse after curse. Draco was fighting too, but unlike Harry and Ron, he was only trying to get through the Death Eaters, trying to get to Ginny and Will.

Ginny's relief at seeing their rescue party quickly evaporated, however. She lost sight of Draco as a number of Death Eaters closed in between them, some of them throwing out curses, some of them trying to get at Draco, and some of them trying to get at her.

Panic coursed through Ginny. As Blaise fired off a curse at a Death Eater that got too close, Ginny looked around. She turned her back on the battle momentarily. She didn't want to run, she didn't want to leave the others to fight, but she had to get Will to safety. It was her only priority. And so—with one last glance at Blaise—she dashed down the dark corridor.

There was nowhere to go. She had gone back the way they came, but there was nothing down the corridor, nothing but the little closet where they'd kept her. Desperately, Ginny looked around and spotted a stairwell in the far corner. Before she could take a step towards it, however, she heard a scream. A second later, a green jet of light flew past her, missing her by inches. It slammed into the wall at the end of the corridor with a bang!and bits of the wall crumbled and fell to the floor.

Ginny looked around. Bellatrix Lestrange was running at her, coming down the corridor. There was nowhere to run, no time to run. Ginny set Will down and practically shoved him into the little closet. She only had time to whisper, "Will, stay in here, don't come out!" before another curse flew past her. Filled with chagrin, she took one last look at Will and shut the door, locking him in.

She turned to face Bellatrix. She still had no wand. There was nothing she could do, absolutely nothing, but she would die before she let anyone harm Will. She would die like Lily Potter, fighting to keep her son alive—

Bellatrix stood only feet from her now. Her twisted face was triumphant. She raised her wand, and Ginny could see the incantation, Avada Kedavra, forming on her lips—

—and then someone bowled into her from behind, knocking her over. It was Blaise. He'd evidently lost his wand, but had tackled Bellatrix, and the two of them went tumbling past Ginny in a tangle together. Bellatrix was shrieking in fury as she struggled to get free of Blaise, long enough to curse him. Ginny started forward to help Blaise, but before she could, someone yelled, "Ginny, move!"

Stepping back, Ginny looked around in shock. Draco was charging down the corridor towards them, his wand raised. He shot a curse at Bellatrix, but it missed. Bellatrix was snarling, fighting off Blaise. She had dropped her wand. Blaise snatched it up, but before he had time to use it, she kicked him, hard, in the head. Dazed, blacking out, Blaise fell back, the wand falling from his hand.

Ginny dove for it. Like a Seeker going for the Snitch, she reached out, knocking Bellatrix's grasping hand out of the way. Her fingers closed around the dark wood triumphantly. With the wand in hand, she backed away from Bellatrix quickly, before Bellatrix could knock her out, too. Raising the wand, she leveled it at Bellatrix—

But Bellatrix wasn't looking at her. As soon as Ginny had grabbed hold of the wand and darted back, Bellatrix had lunged at Blaise, at his barely conscious, stirring form on the floor. And before Ginny could cast any curse with the recovered wand, Bellatrix yanked back Blaise's sleeve and pressed a finger to his left forearm.

To the Mark, which was now visible there.

Ginny didn't know what happened next. All she knew was a searing pain in her own arm, a fiery pain that set alight her entire body. She wasn't able to keep herself from dropping the wand, she was barely aware of what was happening around her. It was like the Cruciatus Curse, and Ginny kept waiting for it to end, but it didn't. Her head was going to explode in agony, her veins were going to burst—she heard someone screaming, and, distantly, as she fell to the floor, she realized the screams were coming from her own mouth—

A red light flashed overhead. Ginny was suddenly aware of the pain ending, but it faded slowly from her body, as though unwilling to let her go. As she struggled to come to her senses through the fog clouding her brain, she was aware of more jets of light exploding in the corridor, more shouts, more curses. Someone was dueling someone else. Ginny lay on her back in the corridor, fighting the blackness threatening to engulf her.

A wand went soaring overhead—someone had been Disarmed—

—she was vaguely aware of someone stirring on the floor beside her—it was Blaise—

A shouted curse, a jet of green light. Someone screamed, a terrible, animal-like sound. A dying scream.

The last thing Ginny saw was Draco's pale, horrified face as he bent over her. Then she lost the battle with her own consciousness, and everything went black.

The first thing Ginny heard as she came to were voices. After a moment, she realized they were raised voices, people arguing, only they were some distance away, so she couldn't really hear them. Groggily, she opened her eyes.

There was a wand pointing in her face. A surge of alarm rushed through her, but then the wand lowered, and Ginny recognized the person at the end of the wand.

"Ron!"

Ron smiled, a crooked, slightly worried smile. "Hey, Ginny. How do you feel?"

Ginny frowned, her thoughts muddled. She tried to lift her head slowly, but it felt heavy. "I'm fine—I can't believe you're—Will." Her eyes flew open, and she looked to Ron frantically. "Will, Ron, I had to leave him in the closet, where—"

"It's okay, Ginny, he's fine," Ron reassured her. "That is, if we're talking about the same Will. Little blond chap, very brave, very charming, refers to you as 'Mum?'"

Ginny smiled, relaxing a little. "That's the one. The same Will you delivered, if you'll recall."

The smile briefly disappeared from Ron's face. "Yeah, I know. I remember." But then he smiled again and said, "Seriously, Gin, he's fine. Malfoy took him to St. Mungo's—but it's okay, he's perfectly fine. They just went as a precaution, have him looked over, you know."

Ginny let out a slow breath and nodded. She tried lifting her head again and felt much better this time. "Good," she said, struggling to sit up. "I should probably go and—" She broke off. She had just tried to stand and found this not possible. Confused, she looked down at her arm.

She was tied up. Her left wrist was magically lashed to a table leg, which was bolted to the floor.

"What the—what is this?" Ginny tugged uselessly at the bond, not so much trying to get free as just to make sure that it was real, that she wasn't seeing things. "Ron, what's going on? Why am I…?" She trailed off, her gaze sliding further down her wrist, to her forearm. The skin there was badly scarred, as always. But beneath the scarring—faint but clearly visible—Ginny could see the Mark. The Dark Mark.

"The charm," she murmured, staring at the Mark in disbelief. "This evening…I forgot…"

"What?" Ron said sharply.

Ginny looked around at him, but she barely saw him. For the first time, she took stock of her surroundings. She was in a room, a room she didn't recognize, with a long table and several chairs around it. The table was the same one she was tied to; she and Ron sat on the floor beside it. It looked like a dining room of some sort.

The door to the room wasn't quite shut all the way, though it was closed enough that Ginny couldn't see anything through it. She looked to the door sharply as another raised voice reached her ears, but the voice was cut off a moment later, and then she couldn't hear anymore.

"Ron, what's going on?" she demanded, turning back to face him. "Are we still in that house? Where the Death Eaters were?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. The Death Eaters have all been round up by now, I think, or the Aurors are just finishing up. Harry—er—Harry's outside with some of them now," he finished awkwardly.

Harry. That was who she'd heard shouting, she realized, just moments ago. "And why am I tied up?" Ginny asked fiercely. "Is it because of this?" She pointed, indicating the fading mark on her arm.

Ron looked at her arm quickly and then looked away. "Yeah," he muttered. He cleared his throat. "Yes. But, Gin, it's just a precaution," he added quickly. "I mean, I don't think anyone really thinks—I mean, it was forced on you, wasn't it? Had to be? You didn't take it on purpose, did you?"

"Take it on purpose—Ron Weasley, of course I didn't take it on purpose! You didn't honestly think I might have?"

"No—no, Ginny, of course not!" Ron said quickly. "But, well, I know you, I'm your brother—the Aurors—"

"I've worked with most of those Aurors! They can't really think—"

"No, Ginny, look, please calm down," Ron hissed. He tossed a glance at the door, as though afraid they would be overheard. "I told you, I don't—I don't think anyone really thinks that you—that you're a—a Death Eater. Really, they don't. But, well, they've been rounding them up, all of them in the house here, and, well, there you were, with the Mark—but I'm sure it'll be cleared right up, Gin. They'll come in here and ask you, and you can tell them what really happened, and it'll be fine, everything will be fine."

Ginny stared at him. The words were reassuring, but his tone wasn't. He sounded nervous, and he kept darting glances between the door and the floor, looking anywhere except at her.

Before either of them could say anymore, the door opened, and Harry and a couple of Aurors walked in. Ginny didn't know one of them, but the other, she realized with a small shock, was Matthias Murray—Head of the Auror Office. He hadn't been her boss when she was an Auror; he'd been named to the position a couple of years after she'd been let go. But she remembered him, nevertheless, from the Auror Office. He could be a frightening man if you didn't know him very well; he rarely showed any emotion, and his face was all sharp angles, as though he'd been carved from stone.

"Miss Weasley," he said in usual clipped tone. "Are you feeling all right?"

Ginny was still staring at him; she knew that she was, but she couldn't seem to stop. "Yes," she heard herself say.

"Good," he said, though if he really thought it was good, Ginny couldn't tell by his tone or expression. His face was impassive, his tone neutral. "If you think you can stand, then we need you to come with us, if you please. To Auror Headquarters."

"Hang on!" Ron objected angrily. "She was unconscious, she needs the hospital! You can't just—"

"Ron, I'm fine," Ginny interjected. She chanced a glance at Harry, who stood slightly behind the Aurors. His brow was furrowed as he looked between them, her, and Ron, but he didn't say anything.

"Really." Ginny looked back at Murray. "I don't need the hospital. I'm fine. I'm fine, Ron," she repeated, a little exasperated, when he looked ready to protest again.

"Fine," Ron grumbled, "but I'm coming with you."

Murray raised an eyebrow. "That won't be necessary, Mr. Weasley."

"You can't stop me—"

"Ron," Harry interrupted. "It's all right, I'm going with them. You should go see your family. Some of them are still out there—" He jerked his head, indicating outside the room "—and they're going bonkers, they want to see you and know what's going on with Ginny."

"But—"

"She'll be fine, Ron," Harry insisted. In spite of his assurance, however, Murray looked around at him.

"As I understand it, Mr. Potter, you are a close friend of Ginny Weasley," he said shortly. "I don't know that it's wise for you to—"

"I've been given leave to assist on this case," Harry interrupted, "by the Minister himself, in case you've forgotten. Am I to understand that that leave no longer applies?" he asked coolly.

Murray looked at him for a moment. He did not look angry or annoyed, not any more than usual, anyway. Ginny could read nothing on his face. But then he said, "Very well. You may accompany us.

Fifteen minutes later, Ginny found herself at Auror Headquarters, sequestered in one of the interrogation rooms. She had been Apparated to the Ministry by an Auror, one she didn't know, and her arm lashed, once again, to a hook in the table. She was alone in the room for all of two minutes before Harry came in, scowling.

"You can't Apparate out of these rooms," Harry muttered, "and they searched me for Portkeys. What could I possibly do with you in here?" He yanked a chair out from the table, with rather more force than was necessary, and seated himself across from her, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Trouble?"

"Not anymore," Harry muttered grimly. He cleared his throat, some of the anger dissipating from his face. "Are you okay, Ginny?" he asked quietly.

Ginny nodded. For some reason, she didn't quite trust herself to speak. She met Harry's eyes for a moment and then looked away. She realized, then, why she felt so awkward…ashamed, even. It was the Dark Mark. The bloody Mark, on her arm. She felt suddenly a fool for never telling anyone about it, for hiding it, for even taking it in the first place, even if it had been to save Will, even if she hadn't really had a choice. She wanted to explain to Harry, but she didn't know how.

Instead of breaching the subject at all, she said, "Harry, what happened? At the house? The last thing I remember…I had gotten hold of Bellatrix's wand, but she—well, she pressed the Mark on Blaise's arm, and I collapsed, and then I passed out. What happened?"

Harry didn't answer her right away. He looked a little distracted. "Yeah, that's what Malfoy said," he muttered. "Bellatrix pressed the Mark on Zabini's arm?"

"Yes," Ginny said slowly.

Harry continued to look confused a moment later, but then he shook his head, and seemed to come to himself. "Well, I only heard from Malfoy what happened after that," he told her. "Bellatrix got her wand back and dueled Malfoy. She managed to Disarm him, but Zabini had come to, by then, and he caught Malfoy's wand." He met Ginny's eyes grimly. "Then he killed her."

"Killed who? Bellatrix? You mean—" Ginny caught her breath. "She's dead? Harry, she's really dead? That horrible women, that evil—"

"Yeah." Harry sounded tired, but relieved. "Yeah, she's dead."

"And Blaise killed her?"

Harry nodded. "The thing is, he got away. He took off after that, up the stairs to the next floor, and no one caught up with him. Malfoy hardly noticed, he was too worried about you, at that point."

"And Will—"

"He's fine. Malfoy found him in the closet nearly right after that. A little scared, but he looked happy enough to see Malfoy, and we all promised him you were okay."

A huge wave of relief coursed through Ginny. She smiled a little, then. "And what about your daughter? Harry, you don't have to stay here with me, you can go home to her—"

Harry smiled briefly. "She's fine, and I'm sure she's fast asleep by now. She's at Shell Cottage, actually. With Fleur and Victoire." He sat back in his chair, and the smile disappeared from his face. "I'm more worried about you, at the moment." He glanced over his shoulder, towards the door, looking distracted.

Ginny eyed him for a moment. She still didn't want to talk to him about this—about the Dark Mark—but she couldn't avoid it forever. "Harry, how bad is this?" she asked in a low voice. "For me?"

Harry shook his head. "It'll be fine. I think. No one really thinks you're a Death Eater, but, well, given how things have been around here lately, the Aurors want to be thorough. And—" Harry hesitated. "Well, the thing is—Ginny, how did you get that Mark? I assume you didn't have a choice—"

"No, I didn't," Ginny said swiftly. She hesitated, for just a moment, and then plunged on. She told Harry everything about that night at the Riddle House, how she'd gone there to find Will, how Lucius Malfoy had wanted to stall for time and had suggested branding her with the Mark. At the time, of course, she hadn't really understood why, but then, she hadn't cared, either. All she'd wanted was to get Will out safely, and she would have done anything they'd asked. She explained all this to Harry and, when she'd finished, he sat there, looking puzzled.

"But how—" He paused. "Look, I'm sure it was an unpleasant experience, and I'm sorry to have to ask, but—how exactly did they do it? I mean…the process…"

Ginny grimaced. "They inked it on me first, like a tattoo, with a wand. It was…painful." Ginny swallowed. "Then there was an incantation—they did a couple of different spells, but I—Harry, I really don't know what. I know there's that one charm involved, I think, the one Hermione used on those fake Galleons we used in the D.A.—"

"The Protean Charm." Harry nodded slowly. His forehead was wrinkled in concentration. "But…that's what I don't get. Are you sure they did that one, Ginny?"

Ginny shrugged. "Well…I don't know. I assume so, but—"

"Because the thing is," Harry interrupted, "what Bellatrix did, back at the house. When she wanted to incapacitate you, she reached over and touched Zabini's mark. Why? Why didn't she just use hers?"

"Well…" Ginny blinked. She hadn't really thought of that. "I don't know. Maybe she thought it was funny—using Blaise—she was twisted like that—"

Harry shook his head. "But she didn't have a lot of time. You were about to curse her. Why waste the time when she could have just gone for her own Mark?"

"I don't know—why, Harry? What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure." Harry looked troubled, and he sighed. "Look, Ginny. The thing is, I'm—I'm not sure how the Aurors are going to take to your story. It's not that it's not believable," he added hastily. "It is, and I believe you, of course. But, well, Malfoy—Malfoy said some things, back at the house—"

"What things?" Ginny said sharply. She felt a flutter of panic in her gut. Draco. She had forgotten, but of course, he had been there, when she had collapsed. And she had forgotten to do the charm, the one that hid the Mark, which meant that when it had burned on her arm, Draco had seen it.

"For one thing," Harry said, in answer to her question, "he said that no one could brand anyone with the Dark Mark except for Voldemort."

Ginny frowned. "But—that can't be true. Obviously it's not. I'm proof of that—and Blaise, because he never had a Dark Mark, back at Hogwarts, and Voldemort's been gone since then—"

"I know." Harry nodded slowly. "But that's what Malfoy said. He used Nott as an example—Theodore Nott, you know? Apparently, he doesn't have a Dark Mark, and Nott told Draco that was because he didn't officially become a Death Eater until after the attack on Hogsmeade, when Voldemort disappeared. He said he wasn't able to take the Mark, without Voldemort."

"That doesn't make any sense," Ginny murmured.

"Malfoy also—" Harry hesitated. "Well, erm…he was, well, confused as to how, ah—how you managed to hide the Mark from him, all this time. He, er—" Harry's cheeks had gone a bit pink. "He…implied that there were times when he would have seen it. When you couldn't have hidden it from him." He wouldn't meet her gaze.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Like when I wore a tank top, you mean?"

Harry frowned. "That's not what he was talking about."

Ginny sighed. "Yes, I'm sure it wasn't." It annoyed her, a little, that Draco had obviously not wasted any time rubbing their relationship in Harry's face, but then, she wasn't really surprised by it, either. She reached up with her free hand to rub her temple. "There's a charm," she told him. "Blaise showed me—although, I didn't know it was Blaise, then. But there's a charm, to hide the Mark, when it's burning. I hid it from Draco for over a year, though, without the charm. When it's not burning, you can't see it very well, because my arm is so scarred." She held up her arm. "See?" And it was true; the Mark was so faint, now, that it couldn't be seen, unless you looked very closely.

"Huh." Harry looked puzzled again. "I didn't know there was a charm to hide the Dark Mark."

Ginny shrugged. "Neither did I. I think it must be something new they developed."

Harry shook his head. "But then, why weren't any of the other Death Eaters using it? All of them had visible Marks on their arms. Back at the house, I mean."

Ginny shrugged. "Well, they didn't really have any reason to hide anything, did they? Everyone knows that they're Death Eaters."

"I suppose," Harry muttered. He didn't look entirely satisfied with this explanation.

"So…" Ginny swallowed. She traced a finger over the hook in the table, binding her to it. "Malfoy said all of this? How did he…was he angry?"

Harry blinked, looking up. "About what?"

"About the Mark."

"I dunno." Harry shrugged, looking a little surprised, as though how Draco felt about it hadn't concerned him at all. Then again, it probably hadn't. "He seemed…sort of shocked about it all, I guess. And then he found Will, and, well, to be honest, all his attention was for him."

"Of course," Ginny said quickly. "That doesn't surprise me."

There was a knock on the door then. Harry looked around with a frown, but before he could get up from his chair to answer it, the door opened, and Draco entered.

"Malfoy," Harry said, getting to his feet. "They let you in here?"

"Tonks let me in here," Draco corrected him. "She distracted a bloke standing outside so I could get in."

Ginny tried to meet Draco's gaze, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes darted, very briefly, towards her, but his gaze wasn't on her face. It was on her scarred arm. A moment later, he had looked away.

"Well." Harry looked between the two of them, a bit awkwardly. "Er—I'm just going to go talk to Tonks, then. Find out when Murray is finally going to get around to questioning you, Gin." He left, shutting the door behind him quietly.

Silence fell once he was gone. Ginny was still staring at Draco, who was not looking at her. Finally, she said, "How is Will?"

"He's fine," Draco said immediately. He came forward, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "They checked him over at St. Mungo's, and he should be fine. I dropped him off at Shell Cottage before coming here. He was fast asleep before I even left."

Ginny shut her eyes. "Was he scared?" she asked in a small voice. She was immensely relieved that she had shut Will in that closet back in the house, because it meant he hadn't had to see any of what had followed. But what he might have heard, sitting there in the dark—that she would never be able to wipe from his memory.

Draco sighed heavily. He pulled out the chair at the table and seated himself. "A little," Draco conceded. "But I think he'll be okay. He was talking and happy—happy to be with me. He seemed okay."

Now, Ginny would not meet Draco's gaze. She couldn't, as she spoke her next question. "Is he going back to Lillian?"

"Not if I can help it," Draco said. His voice was hardened. "Tonks said she's still being questioned, so they can figure out how the Death Eaters got him in the first place. But even if she isn't held responsible, I'm not handing him back over to her. Not a chance."

"Bellatrix—" Ginny cleared her throat, looking up. "Bellatrix said, back at that house—she said Lillian just handed him over, without a fight. I don't know if that's true, but…" She trailed off. Draco said nothing. If it was true, then they would surely get to keep Will, but it couldn't be easy for Draco to admit. He had most assuredly placed his faith in the wrong person. Still, Ginny was sure that he realized that. She wasn't going to rub it in.

Silence fell between them once more. Draco had gone back to evading Ginny's gaze. He sat sideways in his chair, so that Ginny could only see his profile. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his legs stretched out in front of him. Ginny swallowed. "Draco—"

"How did you get that Mark, Ginny?" he asked. His tone was flat.

Ginny hesitated a brief second, and then told him. She explained in full what had happened at the Riddle House, that it had been Lucius' idea. She didn't stop there. She went further, explaining how she'd hidden it, how it had burned, how it had caused her to fall off her broom. She told him everything that Lucius had told her, that night at the hospital, about why he'd done it in the first place, and about Blaise using it.

She felt drained when she finally finished speaking. Drained, tired, but also incredibly relieved, of this weight, this huge secret, which she had been keeping from him for years now.

When she finished, she looked at Draco, waiting for some reaction. For a moment, he didn't move, he didn't speak. He only continued to stare at the floor in front of him. Then he turned to face her, and the ugly expression on his face was like a punch in the gut to Ginny.

"Right," he said, and his words were skeptical, harsh. "Only, a lot of that doesn't make any sense, you see. Because only the Dark Lord can give someone the Dark Mark."

"I—Harry said that," Ginny said, surprised by how weak her voice sounded. "That you'd told him that, but, well, I don't think that can be true, Draco. I mean, obviously it's not—you must be mistaken—"

"No, I'm not," Draco said coldly. "Only, I know a bit about this process, remember? Having been through it myself? And Theo had never had a Mark, because the Dark Lord was gone by the time he—"

"I know," Ginny interrupted, "but, well, maybe they just told him that—maybe they didn't want to give the Mark—or, well, I don't know—"

"That's right," Draco said flatly. "You don't know."

Ginny stared at him for a moment. A sense of incredulity began to spread over her. "Are you—are you saying that you don't believe me?" she asked. That was absurd. "You—what—you think I'm lying? You think I've really had the Dark Mark for, what, ten years now, since before the battle of Hogsmeade—"

"Well, your story doesn't make much sense, does it?" Draco snarled.

"Yes, it does!" Ginny felt hot; she could feel her cheeks reddening. "It makes perfect sense, Draco, only you don't want to hear it!"

"Oh, really? Let me point out the flaws in your story, Ginny." Draco stood from his chair, and began pacing the small room. "One: Only the Dark Lord can brand someone with his Mark. Two: There is no charm, or any way, to hide the Mark. Three: The Mark doesn't burn the way you've described it. It's painful, sure, but it doesn't go on for hours like you said, and it shouldn't cause you to collapse, or fall off your broom—"

"Then maybe it isn't the Dark Mark after all!" Angrily, Ginny rose from her chair, but, tied to the table, she couldn't move any further. "That's what it sounds like to me, Draco! Because you saw it yourself, you know I'm not lying about the Mark causing me to collapse, and I obviously have been able to hide the Mark all this time, or you would've seen it by now! It should have been very clear after I'd fallen off my broom, for one!"

Draco didn't say anything. He stopped pacing, and gripped the back of his chair. He looked at Ginny, his eyes dark with anger.

"So don't tell me that you don't believe me," Ginny whispered, "because I don't think that's what this is about at all."

"But what else haven't you told me?" Draco demanded. "How about what happened to Theo's father?"

Ginny swallowed. "That—Draco—"

"Because when Lillian Moon told me about that, I was positive that she had to be wrong," Draco went on relentlessly. "That you hadn't done anything, had anything to do with it. Only, now I'm not so sure, Gin."

"You think I killed him?"

"I don't know anymore! Did you?"

"No," Ginny insisted. "Of course not, Draco—how could I have done? I didn't even know where he was!"

"But you had a hand in it," Draco pressed. "Didn't you?"

Ginny didn't answer him right away. Her stomach was churning; she felt faint. "It really doesn't matter," she said finally, "does it?" Feeling suddenly exhausted, she sat down heavily in her chair. "You know what you know, you think what you think, and that's all that matters."

Draco shook his head. He was staring at her with such an awful expression that Ginny had to look away; he was looking at her as though she were a stranger, someone he had never seen before. "I can't believe you," he muttered.

"Why?" Ginny shot back. "Like you wouldn't have done something, anything, for me and Will? Like you haven't done things, for your family?"

"But not you!" Draco shot back. "Not you, you're not—you—" He raked a hand through his hair, turning his back on her for a moment. Then he said quietly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"About Nott? I—"

"About any of it!" Draco exploded, whirling around to face her. "About Nott! About this!" He lunged across the table suddenly, and before Ginny could draw back, he grabbed a hold of her arm, the one lashed to the hook in the table. He looked her in the eyes, and the expression on his face, so angry and so lost, held Ginny there. She could not have looked away from him if she'd wanted to. "And there were other things too, weren't there?" he went on. "When you ran into Lillian at the hospital? When you found Blaise at the manor—"

"You're going to talk to me about Blaise?"

"Yes!" Draco let go of her arm, practically throwing it from him; if Ginny had not been tied to the table, she would have fallen back. "Yes, I am! Because we already talked about me, we already talked about why I never told you about Blaise. What about you, Ginny? We never talked about that, we never talked about why you spent weeks visiting him, without telling me, not knowing that I already knew he was alive, that he was there—"

"I…" Ginny slumped back in her seat. "Look, I know I should've told you about him. But I—" She swallowed. "And Lillian Moon, Draco, that's nothing. I told you, I just didn't want to worry you about her—"

"Which was a bad idea, wasn't it, because clearly we needed to be worried about her!"

"Draco." Ginny stared up at him, a little afraid of him in that moment. He was angrier than she had ever seen him, raging through the little room, pacing furiously. "I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"Why—" He stopped moving suddenly, and shut his eyes. He was trembling, as though he were trying very hard not to shout again. "Why didn't you tell me about the Mark? Why?"

"I just—" Ginny swallowed. "I didn't think it mattered—I didn't want to—"

"Don't say you didn't want to worry me," Draco growled. "Ginny, you're supposed to worry me about these things, about anything! That's what I'm here for! I'm your husband." He placed his hands on the table and leaned towards her. His eyes changed suddenly; no longer dark and angry, but pleading. "Ginny, don't you trust me?"

"Of—of course I do," Ginny said quietly.

Draco shook his head. "I don't think you do," he said numbly. "I thought you did. I thought we were past all this. But you haven't trusted me with anything, have you? You don't tell me anything, all because you don't think it matters, because you don't think you need to tell me. Because I'm not worth the trouble of confiding in."

"That's not it at all," Ginny said miserably. "You don't understand."

"Then make me understand, Ginny! I want to understand! Why, why wouldn't you tell me about that Mark, about Blaise, about any of it!"

Ginny bit her lip. How could she possibly explain it to him, when really, she didn't understand it herself? Or can't admit it to yourself, a nasty little voice said in her head. Shaking, Ginny closed her eyes. A horrible, sickening fear wormed through her insides, but Ginny couldn't place it, couldn't name it, couldn't find the source.

"I can't explain," she said hoarsely.

When she dared to open her eyes again, Draco was staring at her, shaking his head. The raw anger, the open pleading in his expression, was gone. Slowly, she watched the mask steal over his features, watched him close himself off from her. Again. "I'm going home," he said, his voice cold.

"But—" Ginny half-stood from her chair. "I don't—I don't know when I'll be able to leave here, when I can come home—"

"I don't care," Draco said heartlessly. "Come home or don't. It doesn't matter to me."

Ginny could do nothing, say nothing, as he turned his back and walked out of the room.

Chapter End Notes:

Just so you know, information on Harry's past few years and his daughter will be revealed in the next chapter, as well as some info on Ron and where he's been. I meant to do all that earlier, when Harry first came back, but then the climax of the story came up and there wasn't really a good place to do it. But it all fit in will in the final chapter.