Sorry for the dealy, and thank you for reading.
9th May 1998
Ministry of Magic
The following day, Draco entered the big office on the main administrative floor of the Ministry and greeted the occupant coolly.
"Weasley," Percy Weasley, still immaculately dressed and perfectly neat from his red hair to his polished shoes, looked up with a slight, involuntary frown. Draco permitted himself an inward sigh at the transparency of Gryffindors.
"Malfoy. What can I do for you?" Draco, Ginny, Fred and George had spent many hours the previous night going over this plan, until it was burned into his memory.
"I wanted to ask you about your family. You know the Dark Lord has tasked Nott and I with hunting down the Blood Traitors, and frankly we can't remember how many of your relations we are supposed to be finding. Can you help at all?" Percy paled slightly, but clasped his hands on his desk and tried admirably to look calm.
"My parents died in the battle," he began, as though reading from a script. "Of my siblings, Bill and his wife were murdered by Voldemort immediately after the battle, you may remember. I do not know of Charlie's exact whereabouts, he was not in the country at the time of the battle. Fred, I believe, fled Hogwarts when the battle was almost over. George…" his face tightened in anger before he continued, "You know better than anyone what happened to George."
"I do," Draco confirmed, internally weighing up his options at this point. Finally, confident in his ability to Obliviate the older man if required, he continued, "The last time I saw him he was bemoaning the fact that there was no jam for his toast, and trying to convince my house elf that he needed to open another pot." Percy blinked several times.
"I beg your pardon? When was this?" Draco glanced at his watch.
"About an hour and a half ago."
"Malfoy, what…?"
"Where do your loyalties lie, Weasley?" Draco asked quietly. "Why did you take the mark? What would you do if I told you that I know where your brothers and sister are, that they are safe and at the core of the latest resistance effort?" Percy swallowed.
"Ginny? You have – you've seen – Ginny?" Draco nodded once. "You say there is a resistance forming?"
"There is. It is under my command, at the moment, with the assistance of Theodore Nott and Hermione Granger."
"Hermione Granger is dead. You killed her. I heard you tell… him."
"You believe I'd lie to you, given what I've just told you, and yet you accept what I told the Dark Lord as truth? What was I supposed to say? No, I haven't brought you the mudblood, I apparated her back to a secret room at my place and I've come back to try and convince you she died and was eaten by a giant spider?"
"And what is going to make you successful this time, when they have failed twice before?" Percy asked sceptically. Draco raised an eyebrow.
"Didn't you hear me? It's under my command. Now, are you joining us? We could use a ministry insider, and frankly a Weasley on the same side as the Dark Lord is just plain wrong." Percy nodded slowly.
"I'm in," he agreed. "I took this thing," he waved his arm "Because it seemed a better idea to try and bring it down from the inside than the die valiantly to no effect. And if I've just signed my death warrant by telling you that, well, at least I've done what I can here first." Draco looked mildly impressed.
"I thought you were a Gryffindor?" he asked idly. Percy smirked.
"I was," he replied, raising the glass of water on his desk and sipping slowly. "Weasleys are always in Gryffindor. I told the Sorting Hat that."
"I don't suppose you'd consider telling me where it wanted to put you?"
"That, Mr Malfoy, would appear to be rather beside the point of the discussion." This time, Draco returned the smirk and leaned forward.
"You'll have a visitor tomorrow. He'll give you the details. I must go. Lovely talking to you, Weasley."
Nott Hall was bustling with life when Draco stepped out the floo after his day in the Ministry. Ginny Weasley was seated at the top of the cellar stairs, apparently communicating information between Fred and George – all three making more noise than Draco considered normal for polite society. His idle consideration that adding a fourth Weasley was likely to turn mayhem into chaos was interrupted when Hermione approached, her hair knotted behind her head.
"The twins have started work on a magical communication device," she reported briskly. "Ginny and I spent the morning drawing up a plan of Shell Cottage. I wanted to talk to you about it – we think we should hit it soon. How did things go with Percy?" There was a sudden silence as Ginny froze, Fred's head appeared from the cellar and George hung over the bannister. Draco took a second to appreciate it.
"All good," he said calmly. "Theo, drop in on him tomorrow, would you? And someone tell Miffie to organise an impressive dinner. Tomorrow night we entertain the Junior Undersecretary to the Minister." All three of the Weasleys present cheered, and even Hermione clapped her hands together, grinning, before returning to her point.
"Draco, about Shell Cottage…" she insisted, as they both entered the library and – thankfully – closed the door on the Weasleys.
She came back. Ron was leaning against the side of the cage now, weak from two days without food or water, when she rushed in, as always in Death Eater robes and with her mask covering her eyes, nose and cheeks.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" she said, frantically casting the unlocking spells and opening the cage. He crawled out, biting his lips to stifle cries of pain at the movements in his cramped muscles. She dropped to her knees beside him, just in time to catch him as he tried to straighten up and failed. She pulled a potion from her pocket and poured it down his throat. He choked slightly, but managed to swallow it. She leaned him against the wall and moved to his legs, where she massaged the muscles until he could straighten them.
"Don't," he said weakly, as she continued.
"It's fine," she replied.
"No. Covered in… stuff. Disgusting." She shook her head.
"Doesn't matter. I'll clean you up in a minute. I'm so sorry; I couldn't get away last night." She moved away and started casting cleaning and drying charms on his clothes. Once that was finished, she sat beside him and began feeding him small pieces of bread and chicken while he slowly stretched his arms as the muscle relaxing potion began to work. "Did he crucio you again?" she asked softly. Ron nodded.
"I… made a noise… when someone reported the death of one of my brothers," he said. The Angel was silent. "There will only be me left!" he burst out, resting his head on her shoulder as he cried bitterly. "Hermione, Ginny, Ha-Harry, Neville, now George - they're all dead! Why can't he just kill me too?" The Angel wrapped her arms around him and held him while he cried. She continued holding him when the sobs subsided until he was almost asleep.
"I need to go," she whispered. He gripped her tighter.
"Please stay with me," he whimpered. She sighed, but cast some cushioning charms to make herself more comfortable and held him tighter as he slept with his head in her lap. She didn't sleep, forcing herself to stay awake while the night progressed. Shortly before dawn, she removed the hand that had been mechanically stroking his hair and shifted slightly, waking him up. He looked much better for the few hours' sleep, and barely protested as she urged him back into the cage.
"Can't you tell me who you are?" he asked desperately, as he did almost every night.
"You know I can't," the Angel replied, but with a tinge of regret in her voice. Spurred on by this, Ron tried a different approach.
"Do I know you?"
"You thought you did, once."
"Will you ever tell me?"
"I think so. When I get you out of here."
"You know how to get me out?" Ron's spirits suddenly rose with a bound, and he threw his arms around the Angel in delight. After a second, she returned the embrace, tucking her hooded head under his chin and wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I don't know yet," she said, and as she made no move to pull away, Ron didn't let her go. "I think I know someone who will be able to, though. I need to make some discrete enquiries. Can you wait?"
"As long as you keep coming at night," he replied honestly. "I don't think I could go back to the way things were the first few days."
"I'll be here," she promised then she reached up and kissed his cheek. Ron drew back in shock, before lowering his face to hers and kissing her desperately, revelling in the contact and the warmth. "You've been so brave," she whispered, drawing away. "I can't believe how well you're handling this. You're… oh, this is not supposed to happen. I was only supposed to be helping you, because I felt so bad for you. Not… I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have… I have to go." Reluctantly, Ron let her go and crawled back into the cage, settling into his accustomed position with his long legs folded up so that his knees were on either side of his face. The Angel didn't say anything else other than locking the cage and performing some hasty charms to clean up any mess before she rushed out.