A/N- I am so so so sorry for the extremely long delay. Happy to say I finally had some time and inspiration to write. It's not as long as I would have liked, but its a breakway for more chapters hopefully. Hope you enjoy, and again, sorry for the long hiatus.

"When it is darkest, men see the stars." – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Blood.

Blood was everywhere.

The air was filled with its scent.

The sun was just beginning to rise, alighting the previously dark field.

The battle had been fought, its casualties had been heavy. There had been no winning, only losses, causing an eventual flee of the remaining Death Eaters.

The Order members remaining were now faced with the mess. They had to collect the dead, help the injured, and return to headquarters.

She was one of the remaining, luckily healthy and alive, the only mark of the battle was a small cut on her left arm.

Why she had come out so unscathed while others, so much more experienced and trained had not, she did not know. Pure luck apparently. She could not help but admit that it sickened her slightly. Why was she fine, cleaning up, while finer men and women lay on the tall grass, unseeing?

She stood surveying the scene, frozen.

It had been her first real battle.

She had come in so eager, itching to be a part of the real action. But now, seeing all the blood, dead and injured, hearing screams of anguish, it was too much. It was all too much to bear.

And yet, she could not leave. She had survived, one of the few out of the dozens that had fought. She owed it to the fallen to stay, to do everything she could to help.

A small cry, close to her, broke her frozen state.

A girl, she could be no older than her, lay bleeding in the tall green grass.

Ginny approached her quickly, squatting near her, examining the dark wound in the girl's stomach. It was bad. She was covered in blood, and was quite pale.

Ginny placed gentle fingers on her neck, checking her pulse. It was very faint. Even though she was not a healer, Ginny could tell that there was no hope in saving this girl. A sickening feeling filled her stomach and a lump settled in her throat.

Looking upon her face, she could tell the girl was younger than her, no more than fourteen surely. What was such a young girl doing in the battle? No one underage could join the Order! This was not right.

The girl's eyes were a warm brown color, eerily similar to Ginny's. This could have been her. But she was alive. This girl in front of her was dying, and scared, tears streaming down her face.

She gazed at Ginny, and motioned for her weakly with her hand. Ginny quickly clutched her palm. If she could not save her, at least she would stay with her. She would not die alone.

"I'm Amelia," The girl said weakly.

Ginny swallowed, the lump in her throat aching. "I'm Ginny," she said, attempting to sound calm.

"I know who you are, I was in Gryffindor too." She coughed weakly and winced.

"What are you doing here? You are so young, you can't be in the Order," Ginny asked gently.

"I live just down the hill," She gasped, and coughed blood coming out her mouth. Ginny wiped it, and smoothed back the girl's hair. "My brother Tom is in the Order and he rushed to the battle. I- I followed him."

Ginny gazed at the girl. As much as a part of her wanted to scold her for her foolishness, she could not help but know she would have done the same without thinking twice.

Instead of answering, Ginny softly pushed back the hair from Amelia's eyes. "You're very brave," she finally said.

Amelia smiled, and winced slightly. "I've always admired you, you know?"

Ginny smiled back, but it was forced. She was no one to be admired. She just had luck. Dumb, undeserved, luck.

Suddenly Amelia's eyes widened, more tears slipping. "Ginny, I- I can't feel my body. I'm scared," she choked out.

Tears threatened to spill, but she was determined not to cry in front of Amelia. She would be strong for her. "Shh… I'm here. I won't leave you," She whispered as soothingly as she could.

"What if- what if it's horrible?" Amelia stuttered, wincing.

"Death? I'm sure it's much better than here. Than this. It will be peaceful. No wars, no hurt. Just… peace." Ginny said steadily, her voice threatening to yield to the lump in her throat.

"That sounds nice." Amelia sighed slowly, as her eyes became unfocused, unseeing.

Ginny stifled a sob, and gently closed her eyelids shut.

She was gone. Just like that.

She woke with a heavy feeling in her chest, and cheeks wet with tears. As she tried to sit up, she felt something restraining her.

Chains?

No, this was soft and warm, yet strong.

She looked down and realized it was an arm. A pale, strong arm.

Draco's arm.

It rushed back to her like a flood. The dungeons. His visit. Their kiss.

After it, he had insisted she was not staying in the dungeons any longer. He brought her to his room, to his bed, and held her all night. They were both dressed, nothing more had happened. She was relieved of that.

She sat up, moving his arm, and he groggily opened his eyes.

"What is it?" He asked sleepily. It was still dark out.

"I- I shouldn't be here Draco. Take me back to the dungeons. Your father will be very angry." She said quietly, a small shudder appearing at the thought of Lucius's reaction.

"My father will agree that you are my servant, and I am to do as I see fit with you. He will live with his anger."

"But-"

"No." Draco stated. "No more of this. Please Ginevra, go back to sleep."

There was a slight plea at the end of his command. She could not argue further, and she could not help but think that this bed was far more comfortable than anything she had slept in years, possibly ever.

Sighing in agreement, she lay back down on her side, staring out the large windows. The sky was dark, the moon was dim tonight.

"Goodnight Ginevra," He said, placing his arm around her once more. She could not help but feel safe and comforted at the contact.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

"No. Absolutely not."

"Father you must see reason."

"She is a blood-traitor with valuable information, I am seeing reason." Lucius said, his tone cool, but his eyes blazing with anger.

"Information that no amount of torture is going to make her tell," Draco countered.

"So you just expect me to leave her be?" Lucius sneered.

"No, I expect you to trust me. I have a plan." Draco replied easily, his sharp gaze matching his father's.

Lucius scoffed. "There is no need. Once Snape's potion is ready-"

"Snape's potion will be useless! Don't you see the Order has grown wiser? It prepared its members against every forceful way to get information. It won't work!"

Lucius scowled, "And what makes you think you can get the information out of her?"

"She is beginning to trust me. I believe that soon, she will trust me enough to tell me. I'm sure of it." Draco explained.

"You really think she would be that foolish?"

Draco shrugged. "She is all alone. She has no one to confide in. She is lonely. If I befriend her, gain her trust, she just might."

Lucius raised an eyebrow in thought. After a pregnant pause, he nodded slowly. "Those Weasley's trust easily. They are impulsive fools who act on their feelings. Alright Draco, I agree."

Draco nodded sharply and got up from the armchair he was occupying in his father's study. He walked swiftly back to his rooms, heading straight for the bathroom.

He washed his face in the sink, and raised his eyes to the mirror. He looked at the reflection before him. He looked like himself, but something felt off. He was conflicted.

At first he had only intended to persuade his father, but his plan actually made sense. It could be extremely beneficial for him to retrieve that information.

Yet, could he really do that to the Weasley girl? As much as he hated to admit it, he had grown a sort of soft spot for her.

And their kiss… He couldn't get it out of his mind.

He hadn't felt this confused since… well since his first mission, to kill Dumbledore.

How had she gotten to him so? She had grown like a weed in his mind, consuming each thought. It was maddening.

With a sigh, he turned away from the mirror.

No more thinking.

It was time for some fire whiskey.

"You're lying."

"I'm not. He agreed."

"You really expect me to believe he just agreed to let me go? Just like that? What do you take me for Malfoy, a complete idiot?"

"You are mine. My servant. My father doesn't have a say in what I do with you."

She laughed hollowly. "Oh please. Your father controls your every move."

He slapped his hand down on the table sharply, and she flinched. He saw he had risen from his seat in his sudden rush of anger. Taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, Draco sat back down.

"My father does not control my every move," He said slowly, "And you don't get to question my every move. Remember your place."

Her eyes dulled at his words and she stood from her seat. "You're right master, forgive me. If you're done with me I shall return to my duties now." Her voice was lifeless as she bowed and started for the door.

"No Weasley wait! I didn't mean to lose my temper." He said quickly, regretting his last statement.

She turned back around, "Is there anything I can do for you master?" She said in the same dull tone that gave him a shiver down his spine.

He crossed the room, and put his hands on her shoulders, shaking her slightly. "Stop it. Stop using that dead lifeless tone!" He urged.

Her dark eyes looked up at him, void of any emotion. "What tone?"

He shook her harder now, anger rising once again. "That tone! Don't play dumb Weasley it doesn't become you."

"Would you rather I sing?" She drawled, a tone all too familiar too him. His tone.

"Yes!" He said frustrated, "Anything but this."

"Sorry to disappoint you master, I don't know what I'm doing wrong." She turned to leave once more and he grabbed her arm, facing her back to him.

She gasped slightly, and before he could think, his lips were on hers. At first she was frozen, but she melted into the kiss quickly.

Hands on hair, hands on waist, hands everywhere.

And somehow, in the unexplainable frenzy they reached his bed. He pushed her down, not thinking not stopping only wanting-

"Wait," she whimpered, breaking the spell.

He looked down at her unsure eyes and parted lips. What was he doing? Shaking himself, he stood up, no longer trapping her between his body and the bed.

She in turn sat up, looking at her palms. "What are we doing Draco?" She asked softly. As usual the sound of his first name caught him off guard.

He ran a hand through his hair, confusion consuming him as well. "I don't know. I'm sorry." He said and sat beside her.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Because… I don't know I just wasn't thinking." It sounded stupid. He needed to be in more control.

"Not thinking is dangerous," she whispered.

He nodded and grabbed her hand in his, giving it a squeeze. "I know. I'm sorry, it won't happen again." He got up from the bed, turning to head out of the room. To breathe. To think.

"But I liked it," she admitted, stopping him in his tracks.

He turned to look at her, hair disheveled, lips slightly swollen.

"I liked it too," He admitted, "But it can't happen again. You're a Weasley, I'm a Malfoy. You're a blood traitor, I'm a Death Eater. It just… can't." And with that he turned, leaving the room swiftly. He was afraid another moment too long and it would happen again.

Where was his self-control? It seemed that in her presence, it flew out the window.

He sat at the edge of the large pond, staring into the murky waters.

The ripple effect the wind created on the water was mesmerizing. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting here, just that the sun was noticeably lower in the sky and the temperature had dropped significantly since he had claimed his seat.

He was cold, but he could not be bothered to leave his spot. It was quiet here. Peaceful and definitely a nice break from the tent. The constant bickering, he couldn't stand it anymore. It was like they thrived from getting on each other's nerves. And he, all he wanted was some quiet.

Harry Potter took a deep shaky breath.

It had been two years. Two long, exhausting years. Their mission, their search, seemed never ending. And all he wanted was to go home.

But where was his home?

His first immediate thought went back to Hogwarts. How he longed for the safety of the castle, the cozy four-poster beds, the warm crackling fires of the Gryffindor common room.

But Hogwarts wasn't home anymore. Hogwarts was not the same place he had once knew and loved. It, like everything else, had been taken over by Voldemort.

Harry tightened his fist at the sudden rush of anger he felt. How he longed for the day that he could finally defeat him. How he loathed him. Two years of his life had now become solely devoted to taking Voldemort down.

Two whole years of his life.

In a normal world he would have finished school. He would have been able to start his life, search for a job, get his own house, and Ginny…

His heart clenched at the thought of her. How he missed her. Her smile, her humor, her spirit. She had such a calming effect on him, so comforting and strong. If only she could be here now, it would have been such bliss. Just five minutes with her, just a five-minute break from reality.

If only he could speak with her.

With a sharp jolt his heart clenched once more. Last they had heard, Ginny was in Azkaban. She was captured. She was imprisoned.

The image of her sitting alone in a cold dank cell broke his heart.

A sudden cool sensation on his cheek alerted him that he was crying. Angrily, he wiped away his tears. He shut his eyes tightly. He couldn't break down. He couldn't. He needed to stay strong. He needed to get his shit together and find those damn horrocruxs and end this bloody war.

The sky was dark now, and there was no visible moon. The stars shone brightly, the only source of light.

Harry got up swiftly, a sudden fierce determination overcoming him.

He entered the tent, both Hermione and Ron's heads snapping up to stare at him.

"We go to the ministry tomorrow."

Hermione's eyes widened, "Harry, it's too dangerous."

"I don't care anymore Hermione. This war has been going on for too long. People have been risking their necks, dying- people we care about! We need to get a move on. We can't just sit on our arses and expect the horrocruxs to fall out of the sky." He spoke fiercely, heatedly.

Ron nodded slowly, "He's right Hermione. We know Umbridge has the locket. It's time for action."

Hermione bit her lip, eyes moving back and fourth between the two of them. "Alright then. Tomorrow?"

Harry nodded sharply. "Tomorrow."

A/N- Once more, I know it's short, I know. But im happy to at least be able to produce something again. Hopefully you enjoyed, and as always, reviews are ever so appreciated! XOXO