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: Dark themes

Chapter 13

It was impossible for Draco to keep track of how much time had passed in the safe house.

Minutes, hours, days could've gone by, but he wasn't aware of it. He was in a constant daze, feverish and senseless. He wasn't aware of any thought, any emotion, or anything at all working in his mind. His body acted on its own, swallowing the water and whatever food that was stuffed into his mouth and moving mechanically to the toilet when necessary.

Vague images, of his mother, Voldemort, his father, Professor Snape, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and even Potter, drifted into and out of his head at times, and without knowing it, he would whimper and say things that he couldn't understand himself. His body was constantly shaking, constantly in pain, and Draco was lost in it.

Rare moments of clarity revealed to him tiny, cool fingers stroking his hair, a wet cloth wiping at his face in attempt to battle the fever, a cheerful humming that filled his ears and became the anchor that Draco clung to in order to stay in this coherent state. They never lasted long, but they lasted long enough for him to remove his bandages, splash water carelessly at his wound, and rewrap himself with the abundant fresh gauze that Sophie had thoughtfully carried from the bathroom to his couch.

Inevitably, he fell back into senselessness, seeing demons that weren't there and murmuring words without realizing it.

However, his meaningless words were always answered, sometimes with giggling, sometimes with more words at an attempt at a one-sided conversation. Draco couldn't notice, but Sophie was persistent. She kept him company during even the worst of the nightmares he wasn't even aware he was having. She made sure he had plenty of water and soft foods, just like when she was sick and her mum took care of her. She threw away the bloody bandages in the magic rubbish bin that could never be full, and she helped him to the loo before dashing quickly out of the bathroom to give him privacy, giggling all the while.

Sophie was quite content, although Draco hadn't looked directly at her in a long time. His eyes were always drifting off, no matter how many times she tried to train his face in her direction. Despite this, and despite his absent state, Sophie was determined to play her role as his guardian angel, at least until he was no longer sick.

When she slept, she slept near him, close enough to feel the heat of his fever, but not close enough to accidentally hit him where he was hurt. When she woke, he was what she first opens her eyes to, and his heartbeat was the first thing she listens to with her ear pressed gently against his chest.

Sophie played with the cat at times, when Draco was in his stay-still-as-death phases, and the cat amused her very much. The cat tried its best to avoid her, however, and it learned that staying near the blond would lessen the chance of the girl's rough-housing. And so it had taken to curling up against Draco's leg, only leaving his side to swipe the remaining food in the kitchen when Sophie fell asleep.

Days passed in this manner, until the days stretched into weeks, and Sophie began to look at Draco with fear in her heart. Her words to him became more urgent, and her caretaking of him became more hesitant.

She was young, but she understood he wasn't well. His skin stayed so hot, and his bandages were always bloody, and she couldn't understand why he wasn't getting better.

She wanted to ask her mum, because her mum would know what to do. Her mum would know how to help him. And Sophie would cry, finally feeling the loneliness as Draco again and again ignored her words. She would whimper for her mum, and no one would answer her. She would call for her sister, who could do anything with her magic, but still, no one answered her.

She took up silence, now, opening her mouth only to eat and drink and brush her teeth with the pink toothbrush she'd found in the backpack. Only 4 years old, and she already understood that despite the heartbeat beating slowly in Draco's chest, she was alone.

O_O

"Hogwarts is reopening tomorrow."

The unexpected voice drew Ginny out of her thoughts. She glanced away from the cryptic letter lying open on her lap and looked up to see Charlie standing near the doorway to her room. "And what of it? It's not like we're welcome there," she said. If her tone was uncalled for, Charlie didn't remark on it.

"Snape's the headmaster, Death Eaters acting as professors…" Charlie trailed off, leaning wearily against the doorframe with a furrow in his brow. "The school council has been overtaken with Voldemort supporters. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick and the rest are too closely watched to be able to help everyone in the castle, so we're trying to establish a connection with some of the students in the case they need our help." After a brief silence in which Ginny appeared not to hear a word he'd said, Charlie said in a louder voice, "I volunteered you to come up with a few names."

"DA," Ginny answered immediately. "Start with them."

Her blunt answer made Charlie blink, and then he noticed the letter on her lap. "Is that from Harry?" he asked.

Ginny glanced at the letter, her eyes scanning the few words there yet again. "He never tells me anything," she said, and now, her tone was trembling with worry and frustration. "I don't know how's he's doing, if he's hurt, or if he's taking care of himself. I honestly wish he wouldn't even bother with this worthless crap." In a sudden movement, she flung the small piece of parchment into the fire crackling within the hearth before her. "I wish I didn't care so much," she murmured quietly as she crossed her arms tightly.

Charlie crossed the room to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, allowing her to bury her face against his chest. "Harry has his own tasks in this war, Ginny." He kept his voice gentle, yet matter-of-fact. "I'm sure whatever it is he's doing is necessary to win this thing, otherwise he wouldn't have left your side."

Ginny snorted and then sighed. "I've loved him for so long, and it seems like I'll never have him."

Charlie smiled wryly and ruffled her hair playfully. "For so long, huh? Then, you can wait a little longer, can't you?"

Ginny scowled at him, but smiled a split second later. "Yeah, of course. So," she said, pushing him away from her until he was in danger of falling off her chair. "Any progress on finding Draco and Sophie? It's been over 3 weeks. Fred won't shut up about them."

Charlie grimaced. "I haven't been able to find the person who knows their safe house coordinates. It could be an Order member I haven't even met," he admitted reluctantly. "With the war, everyone's too scattered for me to search properly." His sister frowned, and the lines of worry around her lips appeared again. She had spent the entire summer worrying, and it was taking its toll on her.

"As long as you keep trying," Ginny said. A few minutes passed by in comfortable silence, until Ginny sighed again. She'd been doing that a lot lately. "I wonder why he did it."

Charlie didn't answer, and although he felt regret that his efforts at finding the Malfoy boy had come to nothing thus far, he knew that soon, he wouldn't have time to continue his search. He needed to focus on his task of keeping the students of Hogwarts as safe as possible. Those students would be facing real, powerful Death Eaters right inside one of the most guarded locations in the wizarding world, while Malfoy was currently holed up in an Unplottable safe house. The kid should be fine until the end of the war.

Charlie hoped that this would be the case. He was in Malfoy's debt, after all.

"C'mon, Ginny," Charlie said finally. "Let's have dinner before Fred and George cleans out the pantry."

O_O

It took another 3 days before Draco's fever finally broke. When it happened, it didn't startle him awake, but rather, it was a gradual ascent into consciousness, and the first thing he was aware of was the sharp pain radiating outward from the center of his stomach. The next thing he picked up was the steady stream of curses that were flowing from his lips as his eyes pried themselves open to register the brightness that sent seemingly physical pinpricks straight into his brain.

He forced himself to stop mumbling immediately as his parched throat signaled its complaint, and he swallowed several times in an effort to lessen the dryness in his mouth. Unfortunately, this did not alleviate his thirst so much as forced him to realize that moving anything and everything hurt. He was also still so tired, despite having just awoken. Bone-weary, he couldn't move any of his limbs no matter how hard he tried.

Dismayed, Draco attempted to take in his surroundings rather than focus on the state of his own body. The cat, noticeably less fat compared to their first meeting, was what caught his attention first. It sat curled against his shin, snug against the back of the couch, staring suspiciously at him. Pupils slit thin in the light, the gaze was somewhat disconcerting, and Draco decided the smart thing to do was leave it be.

With difficulty, he turned his head to look around properly, noting that nothing looked out of place from when he had first arrived. His eyes jumped from item to item, from the squat desk holding a neat stack of parchment and an array of quills, to the ordered shelf containing a variety of games and books in the corner. There was even an odd looking piano that appeared too small to produce the correct sounds.

It wasn't until he looked about the room several times that he remembered there should be a little muggle girl somewhere about. After scanning around one last time, Draco frowned. From his perspective, he could not see into most of the rooms, but where else could she be? Not liking the thought of getting up to look for her, he opted to call out instead.

"Sophie?"

Unfortunately, his voice came out a strangled rasp, barely understandable and even comparable to his efforts at talking when he had no tongue. Draco let out a frustrated sigh that sent a shock of pain throughout his body, making him grimace. He decided to lessen his chore by one syllable.

"Kid!"

There, that was better. There was actually some voice in that one. Draco waited expectantly, and was not disappointed when a rustle sounded from the kitchen and a rush of bare feet padded into the room.

The muggle stopped dead in her tracks when Draco looked at her, her eyes wide with surprise and delight. Her discovery that he was actually looking straight at her resulted in a high pitched squeal that sent a spear of pain right into his head and must've alerted all the Death Eaters in the country. It certainly upset the cat, which promptly ditched its position near his leg to hide in one of the bedrooms.

Draco's flinch stopped the abominable sound but encouraged the girl to bound immediately to his side, gripping urgently at his shoulder. "Hurt, still?" she murmured anxiously.

"No," he answered quickly, hoping to get her to release him.

Sophie did let go of him, but she continued to stand there, staring at him with that mixture of joy and relief on her face.

Inwardly, Draco sighed. As much as he was grateful that he wasn't alone in this forsaken hole, he was still reluctant to interact much with the child. If he were to be brutally honest, he knew he was not much more a child himself, so how the hell could he be trusted to not somehow mess the kid up? Sophie had already witnessed more horror than most kids her age would see in a lifetime, and he couldn't remember even one decent conversation he'd shared with her, so he knew that he wasn't doing a very good job with her right off the bat.

In fact, the girl had treated him better than he had her. He wasn't stupid. He knew he was ill, he knew who had kept him fed, and he knew that the only reason he wasn't collapsed somewhere covered in his own waste was all because of this child barely out of toddlerhood.

He could try harder. He should try harder.

He could make some real effort at taking care of the girl. Maybe talk to her more, spend less time pushing her away and more time accepting the fact that she was near him. They were stuck here together, and she had done her part to guide him out of his fever. Therefore, she was due his best behavior, not only because she had taken care of him, but also because he was the older one. Responsibility should lie with him, not with the 4 year old kid.

Feeling somewhat mature for his internal decision, Draco offered Sophie a small smile. "You did well," he managed to say.

Her answering grin was lost to him as he succumbed to the heavy fatigue pushing down his entire body and returned to sleep, his face much more relaxed now than Sophie had been used to seeing the past few weeks.

With a sigh, she plopped herself down on the floor beside the couch, determined to be here when he next woke up.