Draco lay in the hospital wing, staring at the vaulted ceiling as Madam Pomfrey turned the lamps down for the night. A few beds away, a younger student - Draco didn't know what year - coughed, drawing the matron's attention. His hands gripped the sheets, his mind carefully blank. He had been here for four days already, and Madam Pomfrey had told him that he would likely need to stay longer, given the severity of his injuries and how much blood he had lost. Potter's sniveling face filled his memory often, cementing Draco's resolve to finish the tasks he had been given. They were on opposite sides of a war and clearly all bets were off if attempted murder was on the table. Potter might let a latent sense of conscience make him second-guess his actions, but Draco wouldn't allow himself that same weakness. Potter deserved everything that was coming to him.

He laid still, feigning sleep and ignoring the lingering twinges of pain in his chest and abdomen. The scarring was minimal but it was there - little threads of white laced across his torso, with one small mark on his left cheek. He tried not to let it bother him. He knew he was vain, but what a stupid thing to worry about, all things considered. Who cared if he had scars, especially small ones like these?

It occurred to him that his father probably had scars. How could he not, after years of loyal service to the Dark Lord? Lucius Malfoy didn't get to the position he was in solely by charming the right people or lining the right men's pockets, though that was certainly part of it. No, sometimes you had to get your hands dirty, and doing so would inevitably result in a scar or two. It was a mark of adulthood, really. Of becoming a man.

Comforted some by that thought, he let his hands relax, his knuckles aching from gripping the sheets so tightly. He would wait a little longer, until he was sure that Madam Pomfrey had fallen asleep, and then he would make his move.

He had slept for the first entire day he had been here, and Madam Pomfrey had been adamant about limiting his visitors. Upon waking, he had insisted on a few moments with Blaise, who assured him that nothing was amiss. He had been terrified at first that falling unconscious for so long might have affected his Imperius Curse on Kathleen, but she responded easily to his mental summons. Madam Pomfrey didn't allow her in as a second visitor, but just seeing that she had come eased his anxieties. Still, it was a close call, and the last thing Draco wanted was to fuck everything up when he was so close to victory he could practically taste it. He needed to speed things along.

When his mind wasn't on Potter, it was on the Cabinet. What was it missing? What did it need from him that he wasn't giving it? Why wouldn't the two pieces connect at last?

I don't know, but I'm going to find out.

Content in the knowledge that Madam Pomfrey was unlikely to return for the evening, Draco slowly sat up in bed, his muscles aching in protest, and slipped his shoes on. He was in pajamas and he briefly considered grabbing his robe, but on the off chance he needed to slip back into bed quickly, he didn't want to be weighed down by the extra fabric. Speed was of the essence here.

He grabbed his wand and moved quickly but quietly out of the hospital wing, being careful to let the door close softly behind him. The thought of climbing six flights of stairs in his weakened state was a daunting one, but it had to be done. He had wasted too much time already.

Taking a deep breath, he put one foot in front of the other, keeping his breathing quiet and even. He needed to get to the Room of Hidden Things quickly, but it wouldn't do him any good if he passed out on the way there.

Madam Pomfrey had said he had had a panic attack in the bathroom - she could see the remnants of it in her healing diagnostic. He had denied it at first, but quickly realized it was easier to say he had panicked about end of year exams rather than have her dig further into the matter. The last thing he needed was Madam Pomfrey asking to look into his memories to locate the source of the panic.

It couldn't happen again. He had completely lost control of himself, both his body and his mind. It was unacceptable, and dangerous. If Potter had tried to kill him when Draco was more himself, Draco would have been the one to land the final blow. His scattered brain had made it difficult to think, his reaction time too slow. He never would have gotten hit on an ordinary day.

He squashed the doubtful thoughts that tried their best to wriggle their way to the front of his consciousness. There was no room for doubt now. He was so damn close. He just needed to hold on a little longer. This was the final push.

An eternity later, Draco arrived at the seventh floor landing, panting a bit.

"Why do there have to be so many goddamn stairs in this place?" he whispered. A nearby painting snored in response. Steeling himself, he walked to the Room of Hidden Things, paced in front of it the requisite number of times, and heaved open the heavy wooden door.

"I made it, Room," he said. "I made it."

Candles blazed to life all at once in apparent greeting. Draco smiled. Was the Room like this for everyone? He somehow thought not. The air felt warmer, more alive, once he announced himself. The Room was happy to see him. It wasn't a person, but it still had a personality, a sense of self. It could want things, and dislike other things. And if the Room had a personality... maybe it wasn't the only thing that did.

"Alright, maybe I've been going about this the wrong way," he said as he approached the Cabinet. "I know you're not alive, exactly, but what I'm really trying to do is heal you from an injury. You were dropped from a great height and hurt very badly, weren't you? And here I am just barging in, pushing my way right through all your protests. That's not what you needed, is it? I know what it's like now, to be broken apart by someone careless and put back together again. Let me show you. Harmonia Nectere Passus."

He held out his hands, preparing to meet resistance, but instead of feeling a solid blockage, he became aware of all the tiny gaps in between it. If the blockage had been a mountain before, now it was a mound of earth. Still solid, but malleable with the right force applied.

Gently, so gently, Draco repeated the spell and willed its magic to flow like water, tiny rivulets filling every nook and cranny within the block. His magic sang in relief as it found purchase in the space and began trickling through to...somewhere. Somewhere new. The other side?

Forcing himself not to rush in his excitement, he repeated the spell again, willing the magic to flow with the blockage, not against it. He focused on the sound of Snape's song-like counter-curse, how it had felt for his skin to knit itself back together after being ripped asunder.

You're coming together again, after so long apart. The wound is healing. Won't it be such a relief to be connected? You belong together.

He felt a chunk of the blockage break away and he was smiling now, he couldn't help it. It was working. It was actually working.

"Harmonia Nectere Passus."

Let me help you. Let me give you back what they took away.

Slowly but surely, more and more pieces of the blockage flowed away, like pieces of a dam getting dislodged in a river. As the space opened up, Draco's magic filled the gaps, like a triumphant wave cascading forth into the darkness of this in-between passage. It was a night and day difference to his work with the Cabinet before. This was easy, this was fun.

Finally, the last little bit of the blockage wobbled, as though unsure of itself, before finally dislodging and disappearing. It was done.

Draco whooped, throwing his arms over his head in triumph. He wanted to hug someone, to share his excitement with anyone who could understand what a monumental undertaking this had been, but he was alone.

"Room, I did it! I did it. Yeah!"

It was a few moments before Draco realized that his nose hadn't bled at all during this final round of working on the Cabinet. He touched his face in wonder. The professors often talked about right intention and strength of will being important in magic, but why had no one ever talked about one's relationship to the magic, or to the intended target? Without that, Draco would never have been able to succeed with the Cabinet, he was sure of it.

It didn't matter now though. The Cabinet was fixed! Or at least, was likely fixed. He still needed to test it with a living creature, probably a small animal of some kind, before going through it himself. Maybe a bird...

"I did it," he breathed, quieter now. He couldn't quite believe it - months and months of work had led up to this, blood and sweat and tears all spilled in an effort to reopen this passage. Who would have thought that it would take getting ripped apart himself in order to fix it? Catching his breath, he grabbed a blanket and tossed it over the Cabinet, hiding it from view - just in case.

"Thanks, Potter," he said. "You just signed Dumbledore's death warrant."

The Room of Hidden Things rumbled uncertainly at this pronouncement, the candles dimming.

"It's alright, Room. I won't have anything to do with that, I promise."

The rumbling ceased, but the candles stayed dim, the atmosphere a little colder than it had been before. Draco sighed, a little disappointed, and moved to leave the room. Of course the Room wouldn't be excited about murder - he had forgotten himself for a second. But the Room's opinion, such as it was, didn't matter now. He would need to finish healing in the hospital wing, but that would only take a few more days. Once he tested the safety of the Cabinet, he could call his father. He would be excited for him. He would be proud that his only son was bringing honor to the family name at last.

"Malfoys first, Father," he murmured as he went down the stairs. "Just like you asked."

"Any luck with Slughorn?" Hermione asked anxiously over lunch, wringing her hands a bit.

"No," Harry said as he dropped his bag and sat down across from Ginny at the Gryffindor table. Ginny kept her eyes on her soup as she took a sip; she had found that if she simply acted like she wasn't there, sometimes the others would reveal more than usual.

"He wouldn't even taste my euphoria potion," Harry continued. "Went running out of the room."

"Rotten luck," Ron said. "It was just you, Ernie, and Malfoy right, since you guys aren't eligible for the test this afternoon? Practice was horrible this morning."

"No Malfoy," Harry said, his face going a bit pale. "I think he's still in the hospital wing."

Ginny glanced reflexively at the Slytherin table and, indeed, there was a Malfoy-sized hole between Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione had thoroughly criticized Harry for using an unknown spell marked "for enemies," and had only stopped at Ginny's insistence.

Truthfully, Ginny felt conflicted about the whole sorry affair. Ever since she had started this massive investi- no, research project- with Kathleen, a not-small part of her had been hoping that Malfoy's ultimate goal had been to covertly warn Harry and the Order about You-Know-Who's plans, confusing as his actions had been. That maybe he was really good, deep down underneath it all. Casting the Cruciatus Curse on Harry seemed to debunk that theory pretty thoroughly. It seemed that Malfoy was in fact a Death Eater. The thought made her a bit nauseous. His eyes, flat and stormy like the sea, came unbidden to her mind and she scowled. He had no business occupying her mind like this.

At that moment, one of the school barn owls soared into the Great Hall and dropped down in front of Harry.

"Well hello there," he said, giving the owl a nuzzle under its chin with his finger. "What's this?" He untied a letter from the owl's leg, who hooted happily upon completing its task and promptly flew off again. He opened the envelope and raised his eyebrows.

"What is it?" Hermione asked. "Something from Dumbledore?"

"Dear Harry, Ron, and Hermione," Harry read. "Aragog died last night. Harry and Ron, you met him, and you know how special he was. Hermione, I know you'd have liked him. It would mean a lot to me if you'd nip down for the burial later this evening. I'm planning on doing it round dusk, that was his favorite time of day. I know you're not supposed to be out that late, but you can use the cloak. Wouldn't ask, but I can't face it alone. Hagrid."

"Oh for heaven's sake," Hermione said.

"He's mental!" Ron said furiously. "That thing told its mates to eat Harry and me! Told them to help themselves! And now Hagrid expects us to go down there and cry over its horrible hairy body!"

Ginny grimaced as Ron and Hermione extolled all the reasons that going down for Aragog's burial was a horrible idea. She had never seen the acromantulas either, but she remembered clearly that the only reason Harry and Ron had ended up in the Forbidden Forest in the first place was to follow the spiders... fleeing the basilisk.

She tried so, so hard not to think about it. Most of the time, she succeeded. She had built a life for herself here - with Kathleen and the girls, with Luna, with Harry and Ron and Hermione. Even Neville from time to time. But it was like underneath her sunny exterior, Ginny was carrying the scar of a great shadow, something others preferred not to look at. She didn't look at it either if she could help it, but every once in a while someone would say something that ripped the wound clean open - some event from her first year that she couldn't actually remember, any mention of Hagrid getting expelled, any reminder that You-Know-Who hadn't always been pale and snakelike and had in fact once been a charming, handsome young man that always knew exactly the right thing to say...

"Harry, you can't be thinking of going," said Hermione. "It's such a pointless thing to get detention for."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I know," he said. "I s'pose Hagrid'll have to bury Aragog without us."

"Yes, he will," said Hermione, looking relieved. "Look, it'll be a better use of your time to go to his office after dinner. He can't just keep refusing to see you."

"Fifty-seventh time lucky, you think?" said Harry bitterly.

"Lucky," said Ron suddenly. "Harry, that's it - get lucky!"

"What d'you mean?"

"Use your lucky potion!"

"Ron, that's- that's it!" said Hermione, sounding stunned. "Of course! Why didn't I think of it?"

Harry stared at them both. "Felix Felicis!" he said. "I dunno... I was sort of saving it..."

"What for?" demanded Ron incredulously.

"What on earth is more important than this memory, Harry?" asked Hermione.

Harry did not answer, but Ginny swore he glanced her way before letting his gaze wander to his plate.

"Harry? Are you still with us?" asked Hermione.

"Wha-? Yeah, of course," he said, seeming to pull himself together. "Well...okay. After dinner, then."

"Wonderful," Hermione said. "You can fill Ron and I in after our Apparition tests this afternoon." She rose to her feet and performed a graceful pirouette. "Destination... determination... deliberation..."

"Oh, stop that," Ron begged her. "I feel sick enough as it is."

Two girls walked by their table, teary-eyed and whispering to each other.

"Blimey, they don't look happy, do they?" said Ron.

"They're the Montgomery sisters and of course they don't look happy, didn't you hear what happened to their little brother?" said Hermione, sitting back down again.

"I'm losing track of what's happening to everyone's relatives, to be honest," said Ron.

"Well, their brother was attacked by a werewolf. The rumor is that their mother refused to help the Death Eaters. Anyway, the boy was only five and he died in St. Mungo's, they couldn't save him."

Ginny covered her mouth in horror. Only five... Tears pricked her eyes and her chest felt tight.

"He died?" repeated Harry. "But surely werewolves don't kill, they just turn you into one of them?"

"They sometimes kill," said Ron, who looked unusually grave now. "I've heard of it happening when the werewolf gets carried away."

"What was the werewolf's name?" Harry said quickly.

"Well, the rumor is that it was that Fenrir Greyback," said Hermione. Ginny's heart skipped a beat at the name.

"I knew it- the maniac who likes attacking kids, the one Lupin told me about!" said Harry angrily.

Hermione looked at him bleakly.

"Harry, you've got to get that memory," she said. "It's all about stopping Voldemort, isn't it? These dreadful things that are happening are all down to him..."

And that's exactly why I have to finish this damn translation.

The bell rang overhead in the castle and both Hermione and Ron jumped to their feet, looking terrified.

"You'll do fine," Harry said as the four of them headed toward the entrance hall to meet the rest of the people taking their Apparition Test. "Good luck."

"And you too!" said Hermione with a significant look, as Harry and Ginny started walking to class.

Ginny waited until her and Harry's path split, with him heading for Transfiguration and her supposedly going to Herbology. She walked as though she was going to go outside until Harry was around the corner, then turned right around to head back to Gryffindor Tower. It was worth skiving off in order to get more time with the translation. If Malfoy really was earnestly serving You-Know-Who, she didn't have any time to waste.

"If you die in there, can I have your Nimbus?"

Draco punched Blaise on the arm. "Don't say stupid things."

"I'll take that as a reluctant yes."

Draco rolled his eyes but didn't respond further, his gaze following the finch that was flying happily around the Room of Hidden Things. It had successfully survived a trip through the Vanishing Cabinet, not a scratch on it. There was only one test left, one that Draco had been putting off thinking about. He had thought about making Crabbe do it, but he didn't really want to drop an unaccompanied Crabbe off in Borgin and Burkes, not to mention the fact that Crabbe's particular brand of hulking intimidation was unlikely to work on Borgin. Without the power of the Dark Mark behind him, Crabbe would look like a stupid teenager.

No, it had to be Draco. Today was his first day out of the hospital wing, and he could only hope that he wouldn't end up right back in it after this.

"Alright, this should be very quick," he said, more to himself than to Blaise. "I'll go through, tell Borgin to expect company any day now, and then come right back." Turning to Blaise, he continued, "If I'm not back in ten minutes at the latest, assume something went wrong. Tell Snape if you have to."

Blaise nodded, serious for once. "Be careful, Draco."

Draco said nothing, merely steeled his nerve and opened the door to the Vanishing Cabinet. Though it was quite a tall piece of furniture, the inside was less spacious than he would have initially assumed - he had to do an awkward kind of squat to fit inside.

Well here goes nothing.

"See you in a few minutes," he told Blaise, and shut the door.

The magic of the cabinet, intimately familiar to him now, filled the space around him with a great whoosh, and Draco forced himself to stay relaxed. The magic was warm, like dropping into a bath after a long day. After a moment, the air in the Cabinet returned to normal. Was that it? Was it really that easy?

He could no longer hear the chirping of the finch, and the lighting coming through the edge of the Cabinet certainly looked different from the Room of Hidden Things. Cautiously, he opened the door a crack.

It had worked! He was in Borgin and Burkes. Not seeing any customers in the shop, he slid the door open wider and crawled out.

"Master Malfoy!" Borgin cried as he turned the corner, dropping a pair of brass scales with a loud clang. "What a surprise, I didn't expect-"

"Hello, Borgin," Draco said, channeling his father's demeanor. "I trust business is well."

Borgin stuttered over his words. "Ve-very well, times couldn't be better. Can I-"

"That's good to hear," Draco interrupted, feigning boredom as he examined a glass case full of potion bottles next to the Cabinet. "So then it shouldn't be a hardship for you to close your shop for one day."

"Cl-close my shop? Whatever do you mean?"

Draco looked up then, making eye contact with Borgin, who glanced down at Draco's arm and cringed. What a difference the Mark made. Draco still remembered the thinly veiled disdain Borgin had addressed him and his father with several years before.

"You know why I'm here, Borgin. I didn't come in through the front door."

Borgin gulped before inclining his head.

"Of course," he said. "I am honored to serve, of course."

"Of course," Draco repeated with a bit of a sneer. "Be on standby, Borgin. My...friends will be along any day now. Await my mother's owl. Pull this off without a hitch, and I'll recommend you be rewarded. Fail to do so, and..."

Borgin bowed deeply at the waist. "Absolutely, Mr. Malfoy. I will be ready."

"Good. Then I expect we'll be seeing each other again very soon. Good day to you."

"Good day, Master Malfoy."

Ignoring the awkwardness of the position, Draco climbed into the cabinet and shut the door firmly behind him, not giving himself a second to look weak in front of Borgin. This would be the true test - in the fall he had sent several birds through that came back dead, and he never knew if they survived the first trip and not the second, or if they had been dead on arrival.

The Cabinet's magic filled the space and Draco held his breath, willing the Cabinet to remember him, that he was a friend. In a few seconds, it subsided, just as before. Draco looked down at himself, checking for injuries that he knew he wouldn't find. He broke out into a huge smile as he shoved the door open.

"Damn, I was hoping for that Nimbus-oof!"

Draco had thrown himself out of the cabinet and wrapped Blaise in a tight bear hug. He spun around a little bit, laughing, and soon Blaise was laughing too.

"I did it!" he said, past the point of caring if he sounded childish. "It's done. It's done."

"Well done, mate. Knew you could do it."

"What happened to hoping for my Nimbus?" Draco said with a laugh.

"Well, I only like to put myself in win-win situations, strictly speaking. Get my friend back, get a cool broom, you know... fair trade I'd say."

Draco laughed again, too elated to be annoyed with Blaise's silly sense of humor. After a moment more, he let go of Blaise, still beaming, and shook his head to collect himself.

"I can't believe it," he said.

"I can. You've been working on this nonstop for months now."

"And now all of that can come to an end." His smile dropped for a second as he remembered what, exactly, was going to happen next. Hopefully the battle wouldn't be too bloody. Snape would kill Dumbledore, the Death Eaters would hold off any Order supporters, and then they would make their escape. And by that time, Ginny would be long gone. Who knew, maybe he would get to give Potter a taste of his own medicine with that Sectumsempra spell.

He sat down in one of the armchairs and took a deep breath. No matter how excited he was, he knew he needed to present this news correctly. He pushed his shoulders back and pulled out the two-way mirror.

"Lucius Malfoy."

His father's face took a little longer than normal to appear in the mirror. "Hello Draco. I didn't expect to hear from you so early in the day."

"Hello Father. Tell the Dark Lord that the Vanishing Cabinet is ready. I am his to command."

Lucius broke out into a huge smile, not unlike Draco's own moments before.

"Excellent."

A few days later, Ginny was at her favorite table in the library, furiously scribbling notes as she translated.

"And while my great work remains unfinished, I leave this earth gladly knowing that my destiny will be fulfilled in a coming age," Ginny murmured, writing so quickly that it was a miracle her notes were still legible. "Though I know not who my successor shall be, I leave to them my Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, the mightiest wand ever created, in the hollow of the once-great Godric Gryffindor. O future Master of Death, heed my riddle well, and claim for thyself thy place in eternity."

Ginny dipped her quill in the inkwell impatiently, splashing a bit as she continued writing. She almost wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. After hundreds of pages of drivel, finally, *finally,* she had found what she was looking for.

"Kathleen, look," she hissed. "Look at this."

"What is it, Ginny?"

"The history books don't say who took the Deathstick because Loxias's killer, whoever they were, didn't take it," Ginny said excitedly. "He sealed it away before he died, look."

She passed her copious notes to Kathleen and pointed to a spot with her quill. Loxias had written out a ritual for sealing the Deathstick away, as well as instructions for some future successor on how to retrieve it, to carry on his "great work" of ridding the world of Muggleborns. Kathleen's eyes grew wide as saucers as she read.

"Merlin," she whispered, and Ginny nodded fervently. This was what the Death Eaters were looking for, it had to be, and Malfoy had missed it.

"It looks like it requires an astrological alignment," Kathleen continued. "It can't just be done anytime. When Saturn squares the Morning Star and the Moon is void of course. The Morning Star is an old name for Venus, right?"

"I think so," Ginny said. "And the moon is void of course when it's transiting between astrological signs."

"Maybe we could go to the Astronomy Tower and-"

"No, this is enough," Ginny said with a shake of her head. "We don't need to confirm dates. I'm taking this to Dumbledore. Right now. Like you said, if he knows, great, but if he doesn't... The Order has to know."

"Right, of course," Kathleen said, standing up with her. "I'll wait here for you then. Let me know what he says."

"I'll be back soon," Ginny said as she gathered up her things and rushed out of the library.

"No running in the library!" Madam Pince called over her shoulder. Ginny didn't respond, assuming it was unlikely for the librarian to chase her down the corridor.

She didn't stop running until she had made it up the stairs and reached Professor Dumbledore's office. Upon walking up to the stone gargoyle, she belatedly realized that she didn't know the current password.

"Blast," she cursed. "Um. Sherbet lemon?" Nothing. "Treacle tart?" Nothing. "Fizzing Whizbee?" Nothing.

"I say, young lady, are you looking for the Headmaster?"

Ginny turned around and saw Nearly Headless Nick looking at her with a curious expression.

"Nick!" she cried in relief.

"It's Sir Nicholas, if you don't mind."

"Right, right, sorry. Yes, I'm looking for Professor Dumbledore. Do you know the password to his office?"

"I'm afraid I don't, but you're out of luck. The Headmaster isn't here at the moment."

Ginny's heart plummeted. "Not here? Now? This is urgent!"

"He's traveling," Nick said with an important air. "The Headmaster often travels on important business, sometimes for the Ministry and sometimes for his own affairs. I am sure that whatever he is doing is more important than some petty school matter-"

"Ugh, never mind," Ginny said, spinning on her heels and running for Gryffindor Tower. If Dumbledore wasn't here, Harry would have to do. She could only hope that he wouldn't ask too many questions.

She was halfway there when she passed Ron, who was curiously walking along by himself.

"Whoa, Gin, slow down," he said with a laugh. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

She skidded to a stop. "Have you seen Harry?"

"No, he's with Dumbledore."

Ginny's eyes widened in horror. "They're together right now? But Dumbledore's not at Hogwarts right now!"

Ron looked around, clearly uncomfortable with the fact that Ginny knew that Dumbledore was away.

"Look, I don't think Harry would want me to tell you too much about it, but he's with Dumbledore on a mission. Harry got that memory from Slughorn finally, and they're...dealing with it. All that stuff about You-Know-Who's past, you know. I'm not sure when they'll be back."

Ginny clenched and unclenched her hands, her stomach tightening. Whatever this memory of Slughorn's was, she very much doubted it had anything to do with Loxias and the Deathstick. Who cared about You-Know-Who's past when this was happening in the here and now?

I guess I will just have to tell them tomorrow. I can't make them come back.

"Ok," she said after a moment. "Well, if you see him, tell him I'm looking for him."

"Will do," Ron said. "You should head back to the common room for now. It's almost nightfall."

"I have to talk to Kathleen first," Ginny said. She turned around and started running back toward the library, hoping that Kathleen had indeed stayed put.

"Hey, wait, Harry wanted me to give you something!" Ron called, but Ginny was already halfway down the stairs.

"Later!" she called back, her bookbag slapping against her thigh as she ran down the stairs.

Should I have told Ron? she wondered as she passed a cluster of seventh years. What good would it have done though, really? He doesn't have any special Order contacts any more than I do, and if Dumbledore's gone, he's gone...

She slowed her run to a jog as she reached the first floor, her lungs burning a bit from exertion. She turned down the corridor to the library and her heart skipped a beat as she saw Malfoy walking out, sliding the door shut behind him.

She slowed her pace, half-intending to hide, but he had already heard her.

"Weasley," he said as he closed the door firmly behind him.

"Malfoy," she said, taking a cautious few steps forward. What was he doing here? What did he know? She had to stop herself from reaching for her bag to double-check that she had Loxias's journal.

My best bet is just to play dumb for now.

He walked in her direction, a bored look on his aristocratic face, and Ginny held her breath. He had a slight scar on his left cheek, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. Which she wasn't, she reminded herself.

This isn't Other Malfoy, she thought angrily. There is only Death Eater Malfoy. Don't get confused.

She walked forward too, refusing to be intimidated. She wasn't going to let him stop her from anything. She kept her eyes focused resolutely on the library doors.

He walked past her, and for a moment Ginny thought that would be the end of it, that maybe she was being paranoid and he didn't know anything at all. But then he spoke.

"Take care of yourself," he said.

Ginny spun on her heels to face him. His back was to her - he was still walking away.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she called after him, sounding braver than she felt.

"Exactly what it sounds like," he said without turning around. She stood still for a moment, debating saying something, anything, when he stopped, apparently feeling her eyes on him.

"Checked the stars lately?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder. Ginny's mind went blank with panic. He smirked at her silence. "I have a feeling when we both wake up tomorrow, it'll be a whole new world."

He started walking again, as though he hadn't just shattered Ginny's entire life.

When we both wake up tomorrow? But that means-

Ginny spun around again and burst into the library, her breaths coming in quick gasps. Luckily, Madam Pince was away from her desk this time.

"Over here," Kathleen whispered, catching Ginny's attention just as she realized that their earlier table was empty.

"Did you see-"

"Yes," Kathleen said, keeping her voice down still. "When I saw him come in, I packed up my stuff and hid nearby - he didn't see me."

"What was he doing?" Ginny asked, already knowing the answer.

"Checking star charts," Kathleen said with dread. "Come on, let's check."

They hurried over to the long table dedicated to Astronomy. The table had a type of moving display which allowed you to input a specific calendar date and time and see the stars charted. Students in Astronomy class had to make handwritten charts, but outside of class they could use this table as an official resource.

Knowing what she would find and dreading it all the same, Ginny looked at the dials on the table, at the map of planets spread out before her.

"That's only a few hours from now!" Kathleen exclaimed. "Thank goodness you told Dumbledore."

"I didn't tell Dumbledore," Ginny said in a dead voice. "He isn't here."

"What? Not here? But this can't wait. What about Harry?"

"He's not here either," Ginny said.

Kathleen's eyes were wide, but she took a deep breath and spoke, "Then there's nothing else for it. Ginny, I think we have to take matters into our own hands. There's no time to owl the Order. By the time they get the owl and put together a response, it'll be too late."

Ginny's stomach twisted in worry. She remembered Harry making a similar argument last year. But Harry wasn't here now.

"What does taking matters into our own hands mean?" Ginny asked. "We would have to leave right now-"

Kathleen nodded, already moving toward the library doors. Ginny walked quickly behind her. "We better get a move on then."

Kathleen started to run, and Ginny followed behind her, sorely regretting all the running she had previously been doing.

If only I had translated this one day earlier... damn it! Harry why did you have to leave now of all times? I need you.

"We went - to the Ministry - last year - on thestrals," Ginny panted. "But - I don't think we can get outside -"

"We don't need to," Kathleen said, sounding much less winded. "Come on."

They ran up the stairs. The corridors were emptier now; Ron was right, it was dusk. Most students were either at dinner or already tucked away in their common rooms for the evening. They ran and ran, until they finally reached Gryffindor Tower. Ginny put her hands on her knees, gasping for air at this point.

"Dillygrout," Kathleen said, and the Fat Lady's painting swung open. "Come on, Ginny."

"What are we doing?" Ginny asked as she crawled through the portrait.

"Come on!"

"Alright, alright!"

They hurried up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Kathleen grabbed Ginny's Cleansweep Seven and pressed it into Ginny's hands. She looked at it with a grimace. While she loved flying more than anything, the thought of a multi-hour flight after dark wasn't a thrilling one.

"What are you going to use?" Ginny asked. "Maybe I can get Katie's-"

"I'm not going," Kathleen said. Ginny's mouth dropped open.

"But I can't go by myself! What if-"

"Ginny, I'm rubbish at flying," Kathleen said flatly, and Ginny closed her mouth. It was true - Kathleen was only marginally better than Hermione. "I would only slow you down. But you could get there in time. I'll tell the others where you've gone, get the Order to send back up. We might already be too late, but we've got to try!" Tears shown in Kathleen's eyes as she spoke, and Ginny gritted her teeth.

"Damn it," she said. "What about - I don't know, McGonagall or-"

"Do you honestly think she'd believe us?" Kathleen interrupted. "Who knows if Dumbledore has even told her that Malfoy is up to anything? For all we know, she'll say it's all fake, or that we're confused! It took us months to figure all this out - how are we going to explain it to her in the next few minutes?"

Ginny bounced her weight from foot to foot, uncertain. She had rarely seen Kathleen so impassioned.

"Alright, fine," she said finally. "We'll do it your way. We still can't get outside though-"

"Let's go to the Astronomy Tower. The gaps for the telescopes are big enough to fly through."

So once again, they ran, broom in hand, down the steps from the girls' dormitory to the common room, out of the common room, and down the corridor toward the Astronomy Tower. It was truly dark outside now. Ginny stupidly hoped that she would run right into Dumbledore and Harry, wandering the halls as they returned from wherever the hell they had gone off to. As much as she didn't want to fly all the way to Godric's Hollow, she especially didn't want to go alone.

Thankfully, they didn't run into Filch on the way over. Ginny thought he was more likely on the ground floor, trying to stop students from sneaking out.

"Alohomora," Kathleen whispered, and the door to the Astronomy Tower clicked open. One final flight of stairs, and they were there.

"I wish you were going with me," Ginny said, surprising herself at how small her voice sounded. Kathleen turned and gave her a fierce hug.

"I know," Kathleen said. "I know. But the Order will be right behind you, I promise. I'll tell everyone I can, I'll make them listen to me. If you get there and it's too dangerous, just stay out of sight. You're more important than any stupid wand, unbeatable or not."

Ginny nodded, holding onto Kathleen tightly for a long moment before pulling back. She turned to look out at the night sky, where stars were already beginning to twinkle.

"I don't exactly know how to get there," Ginny said, before covering her hands with her face. "Ugh, there's so many ways for this to go wrong! Why didn't I finish the translation sooner, why didn't I-"

"Shh, shh, it's not your fault," Kathleen said, putting a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "You stuck with this when everyone else was telling you not to - and look who was right! You were. If that's not being a true Gryffindor, I don't know what is." Ginny looked up and smiled weakly at her.

"I guess so," she said. "I just don't know what to do. How will I find my way in the dark?"

"Here. My mum taught me this spell when I was younger in case I ever got lost." Kathleen pulled out her wand and pointed it straight in front of her. "Dirigium Diagon Alley." The tip of Kathleen's wand glowed golden, and then a faint beam of light shot out from it into the sky, like a golden thread.

"See?" Kathleen continued. "It's like a compass, except you can pick a location for it to target."

"Brilliant! Your mum taught you this? I thought she hated magic."

"She does," Kathleen said quickly, "but safety is an exception."

"I suppose that makes sense," Ginny said with a nod. "She is always worried about you."

Kathleen crinkled her nose. "You know me. Bundles of trouble."

Ginny laughed despite herself. "Ok. Here goes nothing I guess." She walked to the edge of the Astronomy Tower and said, "Dirigium Godric's Hollow." Just as it did for Kathleen, the spell created a glowing golden light at the end of Ginny's wand that shot out and arced across the sky, southwest rather than southeast.

"Here, let me hold your bag," Kathleen said. "Just take your notes with you." Ginny passed Kathleen her bag after she grabbed Loxias's notes and stuffed them into her robe pocket. Ginny mounted her broom, at which point Kathleen threw her arms around Ginny in another hug.

"I love you, Ginny," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Please be careful."

"I will," Ginny said. "Love you too. Take care of Arnold for me while I'm gone, yeah?"

Kathleen laughed. "Of course. He'll get all the treats, don't worry. Right after I finish sounding the alarm."

Ginny looked out at the path lit before her and swallowed hard. With a bravado she didn't feel, she said, "Well, be back in a jiffy then." She kicked off and flew out of the tower, praying that she was making the right decision.

"Well done," Draco said, stepping out of the shadows in the Astronomy Tower. Kathleen turned to him with tears in her eyes.

"I know," Draco crooned as he stepped closer to her. "I'm pushing you right to your limits, aren't I? But you did so well. It's almost over now."

He reached out and cupped Kathleen's chin in his hand, tilting her face to examine it in the dim lighting.

"I know this won't mean anything to you," he said, "but I truly am sorry. You didn't deserve any of this. But I couldn't have done all of this without you."

Kathleen said nothing. Though her eyes were wet, there was none of the fire in them like he had seen before. This Imperius Curse was strong, strong enough to hold even when every fiber of Kathleen's being was screaming for her to stop.

"Almost over now," he whispered. "Just need to tidy some things up. Legilimens."

He dropped into her mind easily, the familiar set-up of the cafe taking shape around him. Normally he would meander around, take note of anything interesting, but time was of the essence tonight.

"Show me all of your memories of Blaise Zabini from this calendar year," he commanded. With her mind under the Imperius, she was helpless to stop dozens of images flying forward, hanging in the air like fruit ripe for the picking.

"Hmm," he said. "I didn't realize there were quite so many. Maybe I shouldn't have had you report to him instead of me for the last few weeks."

He paced around the images, examining them. He grabbed one down and pulled on it, bending it out of its natural shape. Kathleen's mind winced in protest.

"Sorry. But it's got to be done. It's for your own good, I promise."

He folded it and warped it until Blaise wasn't in the memory at all. Satisfied, he tucked it away in a random drawer under some utensils.

He worked as quickly as he could. Ones that held only Blaise were quickly distorted and hidden around the space, locked down tight. The ones with both of them were trickier, though there were thankfully less of them.

"Please work," he whispered, as he reached out with his magic like a knife and sliced Blaise out of the Room of Hidden Things. Kathleen's mind flinched again, but it was over quickly.

"Going as fast as I can," he told her. "Almost done."

Soon enough, he finished. There was no trace of Blaise's involvement in Kathleen's mind, and if anyone were to find any evidence after some digging, the memories were distorted enough as to be unusable. He ignored his twisting stomach. He wouldn't deliberately hurt Kathleen, but if it came down to her or Blaise, he would pick Blaise every time.

Gently, he pulled out of her mind, coming back to the present moment.

"All done," he murmured to Kathleen, who stood rigidly near him. "Listen to me now. This is your final command. Go back to your dormitory now, quickly, and stay there until the morning. Do not come out, no matter what. If someone breaks in, hide, but don't otherwise resist them. That shouldn't happen though - you will be safe if you stay in your room until morning. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Kathleen whispered.

"Good," Draco said, letting go of her chin. "When everything's over, I will release my hold on you. Now go."

A tear fell from Kathleen's eye as she turned around, her body still rigid, and walked down the stairs out of the tower.

Draco looked out at the night sky, his gaze landing on the tiny speck that was Ginny Weasley against the horizon.

"See you on the other side, Weasley," he whispered, before turning to walk to the Room of Hidden Things for what he knew would be the last time.

Author's Note: I know this was a quicker than usual update, and a longer than usual chapter, but this chapter was dying to be written! I envision two "arcs" for this story, and we'll be hitting the climax of the first arc in the next chapter. Shit has officially hit the fan! Part of this chapter is an adaptation of Chapter 22: After the Burial from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.