Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I do not own Harry Potter. I do not own the plot, characters, spell names, places, etc. mentioned in the Harry Potter books and movies. I am writing for fun and not for profit.

Summary: Set after HBP. After months of enduring cruel games at the hand of Death Eaters as punishment for his failure, Draco manages to escape. Seriously injured, wandless, and accompanied by a 4-yr-old muggle girl, he struggles to survive. Will he be able to help put an end to the war, or will he suffer a fate worse than death?

Warnings: Language

Chapter 9

He was still running.

Dodging branches and jumping over bushes and exerting no effort in keeping his footsteps quiet, Draco ran. Again and again his feet hit the forest floor, breaking twigs and scattering alarmed insects. Draco hadn't realized just how far he and George had traveled. It seemed as if he was following the backs of Ron and George Weasley for quite awhile, and the brothers showed no signs of slowing down.

The stitches in his side screamed at him to stop and rest, but Draco pushed on. Why? Well, it wasn't because of some newfound worry he suddenly felt for Fred Weasley. He did not know this Weasley. He was a stranger, just another wizard. He had barely spoken ten words to the bloke in his lifetime. No, he could care less, really, whether or not the boy lived. Really.

No. Draco had come up with a plan. Not an elaborate plan, but a plan regardless. A plan that should work in his favor for once. And if, on the course of his plan, he helped someone from Death's door, then well, he needed all the good karma he could get anyways. He still had no true idea of the exact damage he had caused when he unleashed the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, but there is a part of him that wanted to make up for his choices. A small part, almost nonexistent, but it was there.

When he heard George exclaim his brother's name, Draco knew they had arrived. He vaulted over that damned bush – his body was protesting quite indignantly – and headed over to the group surrounding the injured Weasley, who was currently coughing into his hands, splattering them with bright spots of blood.

Draco paused and took stock of the situation. George knelt concernedly near his brother, patting his back as if he believed his twin was choking on something. Ron stood off to the side, face contorted in both alarm and worry. Ginny leaned against a tree nearby and stared grimly at her coughing brother, her hair still wet from her wash. Sophie sat at her feet with hands over her ears and her eyes staring horrified at the blood. So much blood.

When the coughing finally subsided, Fred looked up and gazed sheepishly at everyone staring at him. "I'm alright," he muttered weakly.

"Bullshit," Ginny answered. The girl was angry, angrier than Draco had ever seen her. "Damned bastards," Draco heard her mutter under her breath.

"You think you can endure it until we get out of here, Fred?" Ron asked. When Fred nodded his head, Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right." He paused and looked around at his family. "Sorry," he said quietly. "If I hadn't gotten captured, you guys wouldn't be here right now, and Fred would be-"

"Shut up, Ron," Fred said, although he smiled. "You gave us an excuse to leave that damned boring place. Ginny wasn't supposed to come, but you know how stubborn she can be. We didn't figure out she was following us until we arrived."

Just then, Draco realized what had been bothering him earlier – about the wards. Something Severus had mentioned…about a change in the wards requiring the presence of a Dark Mark to enter and leave the manor. While he could explain how the Weasleys left the manor – they left through a secret escape route, after all – he wondered how they managed to enter the manor and make it all the way to the cellar. Help from inside, perhaps?

Draco shook his head. It didn't really matter. There was something else much more important to him, and he was confident he would get it.

He saw Ginny opening her mouth to retort, but cut her off. "You probably developed an infection. Without anything to treat it with, the infection will spread and you'll die." Alright, a bit blunt, but he didn't really practice his speech while in captivity. Especially with his tongue cut off and all.

The reactions to his words weren't surprising, to say the least. Three Weasleys advanced toward him angrily, eyes narrowed, and fists clenched. Ron spoke first. "He's not going to die, you git. We'll just have to get him out of here sooner."

Before anyone else can add to his comment, Draco held up a hand. "I can help him."

The reactions to those four words were quite comical and Draco couldn't help but smirk. Identical looks of surprise, then hope, then doubt passed through freckled faces. Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned back, relaxed. Hoping for a nonchalant look, he gazed at each of the Weasleys in turn, then settled on the one he had been bonding with not twenty minutes ago. "If you help me first." He smiled.

He caught the look of disgust on Ginny's face, and although Ron looked annoyed, he did not seem surprised. George peered at him seriously. "You want to know where your mother is," he said, not even bothering to turn it into a question.

Draco nodded once. "Yes." He gestured toward Fred, who was leaning back against the tree, wheezing out wet sounding breaths. "Tell me what I want to know, and I'll help your brother."

Ginny scowled. "Typical Malfoy," she muttered. She exchanged glances with her brothers before looking back at Fred. Seeing him, she nodded her head, having made her decision. She looked at Ron and George to confirm and when they nodded, she turned to Draco. "Fine. We'll tell you. Go help him."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Tell me where she is first. I'll help afterward."

Ron snorted. "We don't trust you, Malfoy. We'll tell you once we're sure Fred will be okay."

Draco contemplated the siblings for a few silent minutes. He didn't blame them for their suspicion. Hell, trusting a Slytherin could be one of the most stupid moves one could make. However, he didn't want to come out the worse from this deal. Still, they were Gryffindors. They wouldn't go back on their words, would they? They were stubborn, too. Draco didn't have the time or energy to convince them to tell him what he wanted to know first.

Draco shrugged. "Fine," he said shortly. He made his way to the injured twin, dropping gracefully down next to him when he came near. Fred opened his eyes and stared at him.

"Did they hurt you anywhere else? Or just your chest and back?" Draco asked.

Fred shook his head no. He licked his dry, cracked lips before opening his mouth to speak. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Take off your shirt."

Fred smirked. "Why, Malfoy. I didn't know you were into blokes." He winked. Well, tried to. "Or me. But of course, I'm not surprised."

"Hardly," Draco replied, not amused. "Do it, or I'll cut it off you."

"Cut it?"

Draco gestured toward the bag that Pansy had packed. "There's a small knife in there." When Fred narrowed his eyes, Draco raised his eyebrows. "What? Afraid I'll slit your throats when you Weasleys fall asleep?" Draco tugged at the bottom of Fred's torn shirt. "Come on. Off. If I wanted to kill you Weasleys, I wouldn't have let you out your cage."

When Fred grudgingly sat up and made to lift up his shirt, Ginny made a noise of protest. She ran over to help him. "You're making your injuries worse," she scolded.

Once the ruined shirt was off, the group fell silent, taking in the seriousness of Fred's wounds. "Shit," Draco said. "They really fucked you up."

Fred scowled. "You helping me or not, Malfoy?"

Draco pursed his lips at the disrespectful tone but shrugged it aside. When he started unbuttoning his own shirt, Ginny glared at him. "What are you doing?"

Draco smiled sweetly at her. "I'm helping your brother, Ginny." He glanced at Ron. "Your brother was right before; I did get…punished recently and had a serious wound. You said it was two days ago?" After Ron's nod, Draco continued, "Now, I don't feel anything at all. Like it never even happened. I figured these bandages," he gestured down at the bandages now that he had finished unfastening all of the buttons. "accelerated the healing process. I think they'll work quickly on your brother; there are a lot of cuts, but they're pretty shallow."

When he started to unfasten the small clip near his hip, a small hand gripped his wrist to stop him. "No!" Sophie exclaimed, clearly distressed. "He said to not ever take it off!"

Draco stared at her. "Who said?"

Her large eyes wrinkled in confusion for a bit, then she shrugged. "I don't 'member," she mumbled.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Draco continued unwrapping the bandages. "I'm fine now," he reassured her. Then, he turned toward Fred, holding up the clean white bandages, trying not to think about why in the world he would want to reassure the muggle at all. "Here. Wrap yourself."

Ginny had no trouble rolling her eyes and grabbed the wad from his hands. She looked at it curiously for a moment. "It's like it's not even used. It's shimmering."

"Yes. So magical. Put it on him and tell me what I want know."

Ginny glared at him, though she looked more exasperated then annoyed. While she busied herself with wrapping the bandages around her brother, she contemplated on what to tell him. Draco caught the expression on her face and narrowed his eyes. "Don't you dare leave anything out, Ginny. I did my part."

The girl did not answer him until Fred was completely wrapped up and comfortable. "Will you still…help us out of here?" Her voice was grudging, but surprisingly vulnerable and uncertain.

Draco shrugged uncaringly. "Sure. I don't mind the extra baggage unless it slows me down. Your brother here has already slowed me down considerably, but you're lucky I'm so patient."

Ron sighed, as if a huge burden had suddenly fallen on his shoulders. Plopping down near Fred, he gave Ginny a look and grimaced. "Well, after you refused to kill anyone…" Ron hesitated. "Thanks for that, by the way." He looked at Draco uncomfortably but when the blond gave no reaction, he shrugged and continued. "Anyways, just as you were about to faint, these idiots came crashing through the door, threw some sort of explosive and started hexing everyone they saw. It probably took about five seconds until You-Know-Who captured them and threw them down in the prison with your mother and me. We didn't see what happened to you or Sophie."

Draco said nothing. He waited somewhat impatiently for the redhead to get to the part he was actually interested in.

"They left us there for a few hours until You-Know-Who came and, er…got his information. When he left, one of the Death Eaters that had come with him gave Fred a blood-replenishing potion and took your mother with him. She wouldn't leave at first, but he said something to her that made her agree to go." Ron shrugged again. "We couldn't hear what he said to her, but she did leave willingly."

Draco waited several seconds and when Ron did not say another word, a crashing disappointment swept through him. It was a close thing he didn't wilt from it. "That's it?" Draco asked. When Ron nodded, Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, good Merlin, Ron. That was so helpful; I truly don't believe I've done enough to deserve it."

Ron scowled. "Sod off, Malfoy. And don't call me Ron," he added, almost petulantly.

"Damn it, Weasleys. I should've known better. I should've known you Weasleys will never have anything useful."

When the other did not reply, Draco looked up toward the sky and dragged a hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted to scream and shout and hit something. He wanted to let out his anger and disappointment. Nothing ever worked out for him. He was still not one step closer to reuniting with his mother, let alone his father.

Feeling a gentle tug on the pocket of his trousers, Draco peered down to see the small muggle looking at him uncertainly. "What?" he asked, his tone short.

The girl's bottom lip trembled but she pursed them and gave his trousers a stronger tug, as if to show her reproach. "Where is my mum?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, Draco saw Ron Weasley give a small wince and was able to judge what had become of the girl's mother from the redhead's expression. "She's probably with my mother," Draco said, still looking at the other wizard's freckled face. The blue eyes were sorrowful and for once, held no trace of animosity toward Draco. The girl's mother was dead.

It was war, it was suffering, and it was death. Childhood grudges were insignificant compared to that burden.

Sophie frowned. "We find them now?"

Ginny came up and pulled the girl toward her, ruffling her hair playfully. "We will. We need to go somewhere safe first." She smiled encouragingly and when Sophie returned the gesture, Ginny turned to Draco. Her expression turned stony. "So. We'll stay here for the night, and tomorrow we'll be out of this forest?"

Raising his eyebrows, Draco nodded. "If your brother can catch up with us, yes."

The girl nodded, then pursed her lips. "Alright, but what will we do about food? They didn't feed us today and I'm sure you didn't think to pack anything even though I quite clearly remembering us exiting through the kitchen."

Draco glared at her. "I wouldn't know where they keep the food in the kitchen, Ginny. We have house elves prepare our food like all decent wizards." Once the words were out of his mouth, Draco instantly regretted them. Had, he corrected himself silently. We had house elves.

George stepped up close to Draco, causing the blond to take a startled step back. The older wizard looked at him with excited eyes. "House elves? But that's great! They can help us! Summon one and they will be able to apparate us out of here!"

Ginny and Ron perked up visibly, both wearing expressions of hesitant hope. On the other hand, Fred was fast asleep, finally passed out from the long trek he had endured in his state.

Draco ran a hand through his hair again, although more resigned than frustrated at this point. "They're gone. All of them. Dead." He whispered the last word, but the Weasleys heard it clearly. Their hopes were dashed in a second.

Ginny regarded him silently for a few minutes. When she spoke, her voice was kind, but unsure. "Sorry, Malfoy." She bit her lip and sighed. "Draco. I don't know how you felt toward your house elves, but I'm sorry nonetheless."

Draco made a noncommittal noise and turned away. "Get some rest. We'll settle with water for now and will hopefully find food once we leave this place. I'll take first watch." Determined not to look at any of the Weasleys, he walked toward another tree a small distance away from the group. The tree had a broad, flat side, which Draco was thankful for as he sat and leaned against it wearily.

With slight annoyance, he saw that Sophie had followed him and was now sitting quietly at his side. Her strawberry blonde hair hung flat in wet clumps and dripped water onto his boots. Somewhat exasperated, he let it go and allowed his eyes to drift closed but kept his attention sharp for any suspicious sounds.

Was it only this morning that he had awakened in his cell? They had spent the greater part of the day traveling through the secret tunnel, with nothing but water to fill their stomachs. Draco let out a groan at the thought of food, cursing himself for not bringing anything edible and the fact that a Weasley had reminded him of that vital necessity for survival. They had passed the bloody kitchens, for goodness sake. Fucking hell, he couldn't do anything right.

Denying the fact that he was uncharacteristically moping, he sat up abruptly, causing Sophie to jerk a little in surprise. He wondered what Severus would do in his position. Would he have made the same choices as Draco? Would he have released the Weasleys from their prison? Draco scowled, resulting in a curious glance from Sophie.

Here he was, wondering whether he could be like Severus, the man who had murdered the headmaster right in front of him. Draco had a suspicion that it had been the potions master taking his mother from the cell. No other Death Eater but his father would convince Narcissa to follow them anywhere. The man worked for Voldemort, and Draco sure as hell was no longer working for Voldemort. He shouldn't look up to Severus anymore, right? He was the enemy now. He would be aiming to kill him now.

Draco sighed. Even as he thought it, he couldn't bring himself to believe that Severus wanted him dead. He had encouraged him to escape, for Merlin's sake. Sullenly, Draco decided that he knew too little about the man to make a correct guess about his true alliance. He sure looked uncaring enough when he spoke the spell that sent Dumbledore to his death. The memory of the night brought an unpleasant jolt that ran across his entire body.

Shaking his head as if to remove all his musings, Draco eased the familiar fog to cloud his mind. He was rational with the fog, more practical, precise, and focused. He didn't need the worry, the doubts, and the fear to distract him. He was still in danger, and he needed every amount of skill he had accumulated in the Death Eaters' games to stay alive.

O_O

"Is he asleep?"

Night had fallen, and with the disappearance of the sun came a chill in the wind. Despite it being the middle of summer, Ginny found herself shivering. She looked over at Ron, who had asked the question, and shrugged. "Why would it matter? It's his turn to sleep and our turn to keep watch." She turned to look at the pale, blond wizard and smiled when she saw that Sophie was curled up next to him, both of them fast asleep. "That is adorable."

Ron's face changed from curious to revolted so quickly that Ginny snorted in laughter. "Come on, even you have to admit the git looks a bit like an angel."

Ron looked at his sister in horror. "I will admit no such thing! Malfoy is a ferret and will always be a ferret."

Ginny nodded and laughed. She gazed at the blond head, suddenly solemn. "Why'd you think he rescued us? He's the last person I would think to let us go. Well, Voldemort is, but you know what I mean."

Ron scowled. "He didn't rescue us. It was convenient for him; he wanted to know about his mother. Malfoy wouldn't have saved us if we didn't offer him anything in return."

"I'm not defending Draco or anything," Ginny said, glancing at her brother from the corners of her eyes. "But we didn't say anything about his mother until we were in the secret tunnel."

"So what? Because he unlocked our cell, we should forgive him for everything he's done? His dad almost killed you in your first year!"

Ginny shrugged. "Whatever, Ron." She sounded tired. "I'm just saying that we should work together for now, without any old grudges. He saved Fred, after all. And you must admit, the information we gave him was useless."

Ron scowled. "We told him she was alive. That's enough."

"It wouldn't be enough if I was in his position," Ginny mumbled, glancing at the blond again. "He wanted to know where she is, and we couldn't give that to him. I kinda feel bad…leading him on like that, making him think we knew more than we did." Even in sleep, the Slytherin looked guarded. His body appeared tense, not slouched comfortably like Ginny knew all normal people slept. A small furrow between his eyebrows suggested a bad dream and he unconsciously shifted, putting a greater distance between Sophie and him. Ginny suppressed a giggle when the little girl frowned slightly in her sleep at the loss of warmth.

"Stop staring at him," Ginny heard Ron grumble.

Grinning, she turned to him and raised her eyebrows, wiping anymore thoughts about Malfoy from her mind. "So what'll you do once we're out of here? Are you gonna go find Harry and Hermione?"

The look on her brother's face made her slightly guilty for asking, but his answer surprised her. "What's the point? It's not like they need me."

Ginny bit her bottom lip at his bitter tone. "Was that why you left them? You felt useless?" When Ron didn't answer, annoyance sparked within her. "And so you just decided to go off and kill Voldemort on your own?"

Her annoyance instantly abated when Ron groaned and rubbed vigorously at his face. "I know, I know. It was stupid. To be honest, I don't know why I left them…I don't know why I felt so angry…" Ron trailed off, staring at his hands with a befuddled expression on his face.

Ginny grimaced in sympathy. "Jealous much, brother?"

"Of Harry? No." Ron shook his head vigorously. He stopped when he caught Ginny's disbelieving look. "Maybe," he sighed. "I tell myself not to be, but it's hard when I always see them together. I know he has a thing for you, but…it's not like you're a couple right now. I think I-I love her, but what if she prefers Harry? I want to tell her how I feel, but I'm scared of how she might answer. I want her, I really do, but I want her to be happy."

Just as Ginny opened her mouth to respond, an unexpected voice joined their conversation. "That's a lot of 'but's' there, Weasley. I didn't take you as the insecure type."

The two redheads swirled to look at Draco, who hadn't moved from his position but was staring at them with narrowed gray eyes. Ginny smiled at the look of annoyance on his face. Ron, on the other hand, paled when he realized that his childhood enemy had just heard him pouring his heart out. "Fuck off, Malfoy," Ron muttered, burying his face in his hands.

Even in the dimness of the night, Ginny could make out the blond rolling his eyes. "I imagine any chances you have of winning Granger now is very slim after you left her. You can possibly salvage your relationship with her if you can get to her soon enough, which," Draco smirked. "I highly doubt."

Fully expecting her brother to lash out in anger, Ginny was surprised to see him slump in dejection instead. She glared accusingly at the Slytherin when Ron didn't bother to say anything in retaliation. However, her glare went unnoticed as she watched the blond gaze sternly at Ron, his expression growing more exasperated with each passing second. Finally, he scowled. "I wasn't serious, you dumb weasel. How the hell should I know how Granger's mind works? If she was patient enough to put off with your shite in the past, I doubt you running away from her would completely kill your chances with her."

This time, both Ron and Ginny stared incredulously at Malfoy. Draco returned their looks uncomfortably, as if suddenly aware of the words that had come out of his mouth. He grimaced and turned away. "Because she must be used to it," he mumbled, hurriedly. "Blokes running away from her…" When the siblings' expressions didn't change, his own expression became impatient. "Go to sleep," he said shortly. "I'll take the last watch. I'll wake you weasels up in a few hours."

Ginny exchanged a glance with her brother and shrugged, slouching down gratefully upon the tall grass. Allowing herself a huge, jaw-splitting yawn, she gazed up at the night sky speckled numerously with twinkling stars and fancied that she could trace a lightning bolt among a bright cluster. Day-dreaming about a certain green-eyed hero, she easily fell back asleep.

Ron, conversely, laid awake on the ground, unable to sleep. Instead, his eyes were on Malfoy's unsuspecting form, his face calculating and thoughtful. Perhaps, the redhead mused. Perhaps he deserves a chance. Just then, the old taunting song played itself in his mind.

"Weasley is our king

Weasley is our king

He always let the quaffle in

Weasley is our king."*

Ron scowled. No, fuck it. The ferret can go burn in hell.

O_O

*Written by J.K. Rowling in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.