Unbalanced

Unbalanced

By AkiTaifuu

Chapter Four: Time

Remus felt like a pervert. Although he had had several girlfriends in his time, he had been friends with them all first and gently wooed them, genuinely coming to love them before they had become lovers. It seemed Narcissa was a little impatient. She refused to return to Malfoy Manor, having decided that she could be frugal and un-materialistic for a while, so she was camping out in the ruins of her father's house. There, on a soft blanket in the rubble-strewn library, they had made love countless times. Remus never realised he had such a libido.

He was beginning to think she was deliberately distracting him, for his purpose there was only diplomatic, or so he told the Order, harvesting any information she had and finalising the deal under which they would offer her and her son sanctuary. The difficult bit would be getting Draco into it. Narcissa had some sort of plan that included him and the Order that had popped into her head on Remus' first awkward visitation. Sirius decided it was a benign little scheme and didn't bother to mediate the meetings and that small sex-freak part of Remus' mind was infinitely glad.

She was bent over a pile of stones, selecting which ones she would use to patch up the large hole in the western wing of the large house. Once she had this critical part figured out, (she said it was important anyway and he suspected this was part of her Wild Magic) she would use her wand to zap them into place with a seal better than any mortar, new or medieval.

However, Remus wasn't concerned with construction and strutted over and was just about to give her an affectionate swat on the bum when a piece of rubble struck him in the head so hard that stars burst before his eyes. "Bugger me!" he groaned, reaching up to nurse the wound and hold his head together

"Draco!" Narcissa shrieked. Her son glared rebelliously and looked away as she dragged him to the floor and inspected his wound.

"Do you still remember your name?" she asked, her blue eyes full of gratifying concern.

"Yes."

"Good. Not much harm done. A lucky thing too, my magic doesn't heal. Just don't go to sleep. Have the Order sent you here, my dear, or are you here for pleasure," she asked congenially. Remus gurgled with embarrassment and her son hefted another shard of stone threateningly.

"Order," he croaked. "Dumbledore wants to know if the Weasleys and anyone who happens to be their ward can use this place as a shelter in the event of an attack on the Burrow."

"I suppose. The Weasleys were kind enough to not kill me when I was somewhat incapacitated. I'm not much of a hostess when it comes to anything but a party and I can't promise there will be furniture, but I'm going to start a vegetable patch and the Shadowhounds can always go hunting. Is it...is it very important that you and Sirius stay in his mother's house now that Hogwarts is the main stronghold? I admit I'd feel much better if Sirius was here."

"I'll pass on the message," Remus replied coolly, feeling inexplicably jealous. They were cousins, and Sirius had his eye on one of the pretty foreign Aurors that other countries were sending in to have some in-field experience, being short of civil wars themselves.

"Draco is always popping in and out even when we're at the Manor and no doubt you're going to want to maintain that, aren't you, dear? 'It has my name on it, its mine,'" she grinned at him. His mouth quirked in response but it was more of a token action to keep his mother quiet.

"On that note," Remus began uncomfortably, "I know that you have already sworn a Witches Oath to us but-"

"What?" Draco yelped. "You're actually serious about this whole 'dirty traitor' thing? It isn't just a phase?"

"Of course it isn't, let Remus speak, dear," she shut him up indignantly.

"Uh...we're going to need Draco to swear to us if we're to go any further. We don't expect you to cut him out and-"

"I never promised anything! I never wanted any of this-"

"I'm sure it could be arranged to swear to Ginny."

"I don't want anything to do with her," he spat. "I'm willing to completely ignore you all but I never promised anything."

"Draco!" Narcissa said sharply as she staggered and hopped over the rubble, grabbing her son by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her eyes rather than staring to the side.

"Please," she said simply.

"Please what, mother?"

"You don't know how powerful you are. With you, with Sirius, with Dumbledore, with your little strumpet's handsome brother, how much does the Order have in their favour? I know your father always fed you shit about the absolute power of Dark Magic and how no one could win against them. Who knows more about Dark Magic than you?"

"Voldemort."

She winced but continued. "Who else?"

"Father."

"Who else?"

"No one."

"So we'd have any 'absolute power' they have, wouldn't we? And who knows more about Wild Magic than you?"

"You?"

"And who have I made my bed with?"

Remus felt a brief moment of fear as Draco cast him a filthy look. Don't let him get to you. You're a werewolf and use the same brand of Magic he does. You're impervious. He didn't feel impervious.

"If I betray father, Voldemort will kill him."

"I know. And I will be delighted on that happy, happy day. You are the only thing that validated his miserable existence; you know that, don't you? That's why I want you to come with me to the winning team."

"I know."

xXxXx

Draco dreamt that night in his bed at Malfoy Manor with his father down the hall. He dreamt of a rainy summer's day and a grassy field before a forest, stones rising in neat rows. He found the one he wanted, the turf freshly rolled, flowers below the lettering that declared this grave for Ginny Weasley. 'Caring sister and mother,' it read below the pitifully short years of her life's duration. She wasn't caring, she was a warrior. No one wanted to believe that and no one knew her as I did, he thought numbly. He sat heavily on the earth over her bones and let her lingering physic imprint soak into him. His old joints creaked and his aged hands shook, but he barely noticed as he pulled out something very dear to his heart. A love lock. A ruddy curl tied with a green ribbon. It had dulled over the decades since it had been cut - an insult to the bright glory from whence it came.

Her remains spoke to him as they mouldered below the ground. She had been mostly happy as she died, surrounded by children that had not been his in a house he had never seen, somewhere that was safe from the fury of the war. Those days they had spent in each other's arms seemed so long ago and his mind - half mad from what he had seen and done - struggled to remember her. He remembered she had been quick in laughter and in anger, and that she had a simmering darkness about her that manifested itself in her fierce independence and protectiveness of those she held dear. She remembered him a little too; just that she had loved him and that he had a wicked grin and stormy eyes. She would have given him everything but he was too stubborn to ask.

The years they had wasted.

The sobs of grief choked him as he was engulfed by a depression so intense he longed for death.

He woke. He wept. In his fierce, consuming grief, in the agony of his love, he tore his room apart. Drawers and ornaments flew across the room and his bed was split in two.

Gods, how could an imagined scenario make him feel emotion this intense? Why did he feel like his chest was being torn asunder at the thought of her death, even the thought of not being with her? How could he live another day, another hour, without seeing her brandy eyes again and assuring himself that she was all right? He gave another low groan of anguish and threw his bedside table across the room and sat in the ruin of his bed.

"Draco! What the hell are you doing? Are you possessed?" Lucius demanded, throwing the door open to behold his son in the middle of a chaotic scene of destruction, white feathers swirling around him like snow in the dead of winter.

"I'm cross," he ground out, wishing Lucius would go away.

"About what?" he enquired silkily but he was not concerned; he was pissed off.

"It isn't any of your bloody business, father," he bit out, wanting to grieve for the pile of shit that was his life in private.

With several easy strides, Lucius had come forward and backhanded him violently across the face.

That will bruise. Only Ginny is allowed to bruise my face.

"I will tolerate this insolence no longer. Your mother has twisted your mind. You let her go to damned Barbados without my permission, or that of our Master. How dare you. She isn't her own woman. She belongs to me, and to our Master, just like you. Get over this childish fit of rebellion this instant. Do you understand?" he demanded, narrow chest heaving with the force of his anger.

Mother wants me to kill you, he thought, smirking cruelly up at his father, unseen in the darkness. She says all that 'backing the right team' rubbish for her pet wolf, but I know. I see the truth; she wants you dead with no blood splattered on her. And I don't see the reasons for me to protect you anymore. I don't see the advantage of being a Death Eater anymore. I wish you could know father, that I want nothing more at this moment than to slit your throat.

"Yes, father, I'm sorry, father. I understand."

"Good," Lucius sneered. He turned on his heel and was about to ponce out the door. The moment before he touched the doorhandle, he fell, crumpled in a heap on the floor in the magical backlash of Draco's fury.

"I am what I am, father; why should I change that for you? Why should I change it for anyone?" he almost laughed. He jumped on the unconscious body several times and kicked him in the head before he turned his back on the room with no intention of coming back.

I am what I am. And what am I?

He sprinted down the halls to the library, smashing open a glass case, the alarm falling silent because of the Malfoy blood that was spilt by the shards. He pulled out a simple, plain-looking velvet pouch, the size of a throw pillow, and pulled it open as he turned to face the nearest shelf which he knew, beyond the protective illusions, was dedicated to the Dark Arts. The books rocketed from their dusty homes and into the pouch, one after the other, pushing past the stretched drawstring and yet, the pouch never got any fuller or heavier and it never would.

What am I?

Hours later, when Lucius was beginning to stir from his Legilimency-induced nap, sore and bruised, Draco was underground with stale wind whipping by his face as a goblin taxied him to the Malfoy family vault. He sat amid the riches as a thick stream of flying gold poured into the magical pouch, his thoughts a million miles away. Or rather, his thoughts were in Devon.

Whatever I am, I'm in love with Ginny Weasley.

Damn her.

xXxXx

Ginny had fallen into an uneasy doze in the small hours of the morning. The hint of soft morning light crept through her window. A fall of sleet and rain in the night meant that the morning chorus of the birds was subdued, absent. There was complete, comforting silence but for the whispers of the ghoul and the soft breathing of the body behind her.

Ginny was miserable and full of regret even before she opened her eyes, her mind clouded with sleep and uneasy dreams. Rebounds. The worst thing ever. I stupidly took it too far because I stupid hate stupid Draco. I shouldn't have done this.

The body behind her was warm, though, and she couldn't help but snuggle into the boy's sleepy embrace. His messy hair tickled her naked shoulder.

It was about this point that she realised the significance of a body in her bed. She remembered that she hadn't gone up to bed expecting there to be a visitor as she woke. Gently, she eased her body forward so that she could reach her wand. With a whisper, she was able to tilt the mirror on her tiny vanity just enough so that she could see. She didn't want to hope, she wanted to know.

Twined with her fiery tresses on the green pillow was a splash of silver blonde. His complexion was so fair, it was almost ghostly.

She didn't know if she wanted to believe it was him, or that it was some Death Eater who had found her out and was trying to get into her pants before they killed her. He had her Kitten's thick, heavy ring on the middle finger of his left hand, though. Could it really be him?

Ginny had never realised how narrow her bed was and decided it would be much better if one of them was to be on top of the other. She was in the process of turning over when he woke and she found herself pressed into his side, their faces an inch away. "Good morning," she whispered, not knowing what else to say.

"It certainly is," he said with his demonic smile that made her blush. Although she had lied to her parents when she told them she had never slept with Draco, they had never done so in the light, or in a bed for that matter. It was always at night in a field, a pretty walk on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, or in the shadow of his mother's forest. Always under the stars. She had never been in bed with him before, at least not since they had started sleeping together, and, with cold dawn light illuminating her room, she felt horribly exposed and wished she had bothered to fish out some more substantial pyjamas.

"I thought you hated me."

"I do," he whispered, "in the sense that I don't ever want you to leave me again. You can do...do whatever you want with Potter providing I don't know about it," he muttered.

It was obviously causing him a lot pain to say this; he was wearing his 'I-wanna-beat-people-to-death-with-a-shovel' frown. Draco was notoriously jealous when it came to her and Harry and, for a moment, she feared that he might indeed be a Death Eater before she saw his eyes. They were fever bright and his skin was hotter than it should have been.

"You're sick," she whispered.

"But I don't want to be a Death Eater anymore," he grabbed at her hands, twining their fingers together. "Really I don't, I'll be one of the good guys, I'll try really hard," he promised earnestly, desperation burning in his bright, bright eyes. "I don't care what I'm doing as long as I'm with you! Be with me again, Vixen, I'll do anything you ask!" he begged. Draco never begged and that she had inspired him to do so made her heart constrict painfully.

"Oh, Draco," she sighed, fighting the urge to grin into his wrinkled shirt. "I meant you're sick-"

Still misunderstanding, he changed tactics. "You said you wouldn't want me to change unless-"

"I meant you're ill, unwell. You've got a fever, poor baby," she brushed her lips against his forehead; when she moved back down, he was sporting that wicked grin again, the one that made her knees weak.

"Perhaps you can kiss it better," he suggested, smirking and kissing their laced fingers.

She sighed as she pushed away from him a little, balanced precariously on the edge of the bed before having second thoughts and getting out of bed all together. She ignored the cold floor boards and the complete lack of warmth the tiny, tight cotton shorts provided and leaned against her window sill.

"What are you doing to me, Kitten? You were mad at me a couple of days ago and now you show up, sick as a dog and trying to get into my pants? What's going on?"

"I take it back. I just want to be with you," he repeated, slinking out of the bed, walking over to her and bracing his hands on either side of her head. Ginny was by no means short for a woman and yet he towered over her by a head. As always, his close proximity made her feel delightfully feminine and safe and protected and, at the same time, it infused her with such desire that caution broke before his penetrating gaze.

"I'm sorry for assuming the worst when Ron stabbed you!" she gasped earnestly, desperately.

"I'm sorry I let it blow up in your face!"

"I'm sorry I didn't understand why you were so angry!"

"I'm sorry I told you I was glad!" By the end of these frantic declarations, they were wrapped in each other's arms again and kissing frantically.

"So that's it, we're together again?" Ginny whispered as he began nibbling and kissing her throat.

"I suppose we are. You're all mine again!" he crowed gleefully. "Remember what I said about Knobhead Potter though, I don't want to know."

"I don't want Harry Bloody Potter! Why would I, when I could have you?"

He looked down at her, grinning handsomely. He had been yearning to hear words such as those since the day he had first arrived at Hogwarts.

"My Vixen, all mine, all mine again," he grinned for another moment before his face fell.

"We've wasted so much time!" he cried in anguish, burying his face under her hair, his hot breath tickling her neck.

"It was only four months," she murmured, too pleased to have him in her arms to argue with any heat. They loved to argue; it was like their foreplay. Gods, that was sick.

"Every second is precious," he whispered fiercely, raising his head. His narrowed eyes darted back and forth as he thought. "We should be naked right now."

She began to laugh. She laughed until she cried and clung onto him. "Never leave me, Kitten. Never let me go," she gasped, sobs wracking her ribcage. "I love you."

It was the first time she had said it and, for a second that stretched an eternity, she was met with silence. I've fucked it up again, she moaned internally. But she did love him and he needed to know that. That made him the bad guy if he left again.

"I love you so much," he whispered back ferociously. Tears were pooling in his own eyes and before he could dash them away, Ginny was kissing them and that only made his chest heave harder. He was so happy, so in love, that he was in pain. He couldn't bear it but neither could he let it go.

"Ginny?" her mother tapped gently on the door. "Are you crying? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, mum," she called back, her voice a little stronger, but it was difficult to make it so with Draco kissing that sweet spot where her earlobe met her jaw.

"Okay, sweetheart," she called back, unconvinced. "Don't stay abed too long, your brother and his friends are coming to breakfast."

That meant Harry, Hermione and Ron. "I have to get ready. What am I going to do with you?"

"I'll go-"

"You can't, you're sick. I just don't know what with."

"It's probably just a bad chill. I was running around a lot last night."

"Okay, if you're sure. I trust you," she said, giving him a mocking, syrupy look over her shoulder as she walked to the door. "I'd like you to stay in bed for a while though. If you're a good boy, I'll sneak you up some breakfast and come and join you. I think we have some meat pies left in the cold box. And no, there is no grog."

"Okay," he sighed with mock petulance and slid between her warn sheets. "Hurry back."

She showered quickly - it was lonely in there - getting shampoo and conditioner in her mouth because she couldn't stop smiling.

"Oi, oi!" Two voices from the kitchen cried at her in unison and she came into sight, still dripping and in a towel.

"Great," she gasped as she closed her door firmly behind her. "Fred and George are here."

"Why is that bad?" her Kitten asked from the bed. He settled down on her plump pillows and had his arms folded behind his head. His chest was still bare and for a moment she couldn't look away.

"They have 'sibling action radars' proven to be able to betray me within twenty four hours of any kiss."

"I guess a few more couldn't hurt then," he replied, raising himself up invitingly.

"Kitten, you should cover up," chastised Ginny with half mocking concern as she sauntered over to the bed and straddled his waist. There was no chance he would be able to sleep or even relax after that. He had never seen her naked before and the potential hidden by the little, thin towel was exciting him a bit more than was appropriate considering he was lying in her childhood bed. "You'll get cold," she whispered against his lips, one arm holding up the towel, the other wrapping about his neck. For a moment, they kissed languidly before she swung off of him to the other side of the bed where her chest of drawers lay, suppressing a smile as he protested loudly.

"Where are you going? You don't need breakfast. Have me for breakfast."

"I'm going to breakfast, darling. Cover up. I'll make you a deal, you can have my favourite pyjamas if I can wear this?" she held up his woollen Quidditch jersey with 'Saxons' scrawled across the back from where he had dropped it on the floor. It had been from a pick-up game of Quidditch in the Dragon Keepers' camp. Charlie had played Seeker for that team so her brothers would just guess it had been his. Charlie was one of the few that accepted her relationship with Malfoy, the only one who had known about it before Ron had walked in on them. She threw another plain grey jumper at him, one she had stolen from him months ago; it didn't smell like him anymore, so she really had no use for it.

"I don't know if I'm disturbed or pleased about your penchant for wanting my clothing."

"It's a compliment, Kitten," she answered flippantly and pulled some knickers and slacks on so quickly that he didn't have a chance to look at her. He whined in protest again so that she had to shush him. This time, she teased him by dropping her towel with her back to him, letting him get a glimpse at the curve of her breast before she put a bra on and pulled his jersey over the top. She climbed over him again, smirking back at him when she reached the door. "Don't look at me like that. I feel like you're a fat kid who I've stolen chocolate from."

Draco said nothing, just sulked as he pulled on his jumper, but smiled when she closed the door and he realised the garment smelt like her.

xXxXx

"Feeling better, dear?" Arthur asked kindly as he heard his daughter clatter down the stairs. He almost yelped as she seized his head and kissed him on his bald spot.

"I feel fantastic!" she replied with feeling. Her eyes were brighter than he had ever seen them and the air around her seemed to snap with energy and magic and light. She repeated the same gesture to the shaggy crowns of her twin brothers, who smirked at her and then at each other, nodding in agreement.

Molly seemed delighted, and not at all suspicious, by her daughter's enthusiastic hug -probably thinking it was because Harry was coming - but Arthur knew better and watched his children carefully while Molly continued to prattle. He had only realised a few years ago that his children were so close, so aligned in their background, sense of humour, and mentality, that they could communicate easily without words behind their parent's back. Not even Harry, Ron and Hermione were at that stage. Only Percy wasn't fluent but then, Percy never cared to know about the gossip and trouble and fun that the others, even Bill and Charlie, were always eager to be in on.

Fred raised an eyebrow.

Ginny blushed and dropped her eyes.

George pointed a finger in the air.

Ginny bit her lip and put her hands on her arms as if she were hugging herself lightly, but made a sharp, horizontal chopping motion with her hand.

George tapped the bridge of his nose while Fred scratched his forehead.

Ginny shook her head, smiling mischievously; the similarity between her and the twins was unmistakable.

Fred and George stared at her with wide eyes. Fred shrugged as if in question.

Ginny jutted her chin forward defiantly.

George raised his eyebrow.

Ginny shook her head, blushing.

What the hell had that meant? Arthur wondered.

The last thing Ginny needed that morning was nosy brothers. Their radar was working perfectly.

Action? Fred wanted to know.

Ginny gave a guilty admission.

Is the lucky fellow upstairs? the manky gits persisted.

Cuddling and nothing else though.

Is it Harry? they smirked knowingly.

No.

What? Are you sure?

Of course I'm sure!

Who is it then?

Not telling.

"What was it that we meant to get from our room next time we dropped in?" Fred asked his twin casually and Ginny almost moaned. She'd seen this scenario before.

"Hen's teeth. Do you want to pop up and get it, or should I?"

"Don't bother yourselves, I'll get it," Ginny offered brightly.

"You might not be able to find it, Gin," the twins said, rising out of their seats.

"I'll go with you," she chirped, though there was a hint of desperation in her voice now.

"It can wait until after breakfast," Molly decided, hearing the Floo spit three times.

Fred glared at his sister, trying to catch her eyes. When she did look, he mimed stabbing at his arm. It took her a moment to realise his meaning, and she filed away the new sign for future reference, though it wasn't exactly romantic on her part. She nodded slowly and was careful to keep eye contact as she made a little cough to signify that he was sick.

George frowned thunderously and patted his brother sharply on the back, his fist curled as if he held a knife. Draco is not a backstabber she thought indignantly and shook her head fiercely, making an inconspicuous cutting gesture across her arm to signify that he wasn't a Death Eater anymore.

"'Morning," the new comers called as they entered the kitchen.

"Smells good, mum," Ron beamed, oblivious to the conversation that had taken place the moment before he walked in.

"Tuck in," she encouraged and, for a moment, there was just the clatter of forks and knives on plates and the sound of butter knives scraping toast.

Fred and George were trying to get Ron's attention and were about to resort to throwing eggs (although throwing eggs would have been their first choice had the matter not been of such critical importance) when Hermione stood up to make herself a cup of tea. She froze, staring at the wall.

"Ron," she whispered fearfully, pointing. On the wall, the enchanted Weasley clock showed Arthur, Molly, Ginny, Ron and the twins to be in Mortal Peril.

"Merlin!" Arthur gasped. The twins exchanged a look with Ginny, more furious than she had ever seen them and they just stared before they recovered and raced to the stairs. Ron went to the wards and Arthur went to the fireplace as Hermione, Molly and Harry stared at the crowd of masked, robed figures approaching the Burrow.

Ginny burst through her door with her brothers not far behind her, blocking the way with her body. Draco was still in bed and stirred sleepily before his grey eyes flickered open.

"They aren't going to stab me, are they?" he rasped.

"See!" Ginny crowed triumphantly. Her brothers remained distrustful. They knew well enough that one could carry out mischief while in bed.

"What's going on?"

"There are a whole bunch of Death Eaters about to attack our house. Care to explain?" George said sweetly

His eyes darkened furiously. "I shouldn't have come here."

"Damn right you shouldn't have!"

"They must have finally figured out that mum and I were jumping ship. The assault and theft thing might have helped them along...." he trailed off before looking at Ginny, blushing. "I'm so sorry, Vixen."

"Ginny! Boys! Come down here!"

"Come on then, Malfoy. If you're really as good as everyone says then you can help get us out of this mess," Fred said, looking darkly at the window from which they could hear the Death Eaters shouting some sort of ultimatum. They didn't make any comment as Ginny took his hand and made their way downstairs.

There was a cacophony of shouting and arguing and crying in the kitchen and living room. Arthur had Flooed his remaining sons to tell them what was happening, and not to come in, as well as informing Moody and Sirius. The boys had done exactly the opposite of what they were told and the kitchen was packed with them and Sirius and a tall, honey-haired woman with dark blue eyes that they had never met before. The Floo had been blocked so there was no way in or out, and the instant they took down the anti-Apparation wards, the Death Eaters would have their way in.

"Remus said that Black House was secured!" Sirius was yelling angrily to Molly whose rebuttal was made incoherent by her tears. "This place is more secure than anywhere else but for Hogwarts and Black House and we could run there, because you can't Apparate in, not without Black blood."

"We could get brooms," Harry agreed with his godfather.

"How are we to get them, Harry?" Percy snapped.

"Ginny is strong enough to summon them," Bill said thoughtfully. As one, the family seemed to turn to look at them.

"You!" Ron hissed.

"Before you start your shrieking Ron, I have to tell you all that Draco is mine and you can't hit him unless I say so, all right?" Ginny fixed them with a glare.

"Fine," Charlie said easily. "All right, Draco?"

"Is this the dozy beggar you told me about, mate?' Bill asked Charlie with a slight frown.

"He's my dozy beggar," Ginny said possessively.

"Fine love, don't get your knickers in a twist. Stop glaring at him, Harry; it's a good thing he's here. You can do some of that crazy Wild Magic shite and we'll all be fine, right?"

"I could give it a go," Draco considered amiably.

"No he can't, he's got sorcery sickness," the tall, anonymous woman said scornfully. Draco blanched.

"What's that? Is it deadly?" Ron asked hopefully.

"No. It just means he'll be slightly unbalanced, prone to extreme measures, and what else was it...oh yes, if he tries to do any more magic with or without a wand, not only will he falter, he'll burn out."

"Become a Squib?" Hermione demanded incredulously. There was a moment of silence in which Arthur tried not to be angry, Molly tried to stop crying and Ginny tried to convey her regret to Harry, who looked like she had kneed him in the bollocks.

"So what are we going to do? Why don't we just run to Black House? We could rig some sort of diversion," Fred and George said, alternating sentiments.

"Andromeda is good with illusions," Sirius considered, looking at his cousin.

"Brilliant," the twins grinned.

"No. Your mother refuses to leave the house to the Death Eaters," Arthur said tiredly. "But the wards won't survive the siege after the 'Hour of Terror' is up."

"What is it that they want?" Percy asked quietly.

"To take us all prisoner or kill us. Malfoy said something about 'his task' in which we're interfering."

Draco snorted rudely. "He needs to kill me, otherwise Voldemort will kill him," he explained, peering out of the window. "They're still outside the boundaries. These super-duper wards everyone says you've made, would they break down if you were to make a Sight Shield Ward over the top?"

"I could do that. What have you got in mind?" Andromeda asked.

"Cocoons. We'll bury the fucker in a cocoon until we want it later. It'd be best if they didn't know what was going on."

"And can you do that with the teaspoon of viable magic you have left in you?"

"No. I could borrow, though. Or trade. Two people. Hmm. Which two of you are least able to run?"

"Mum and dad," Charlie answered, cutting everyone else off.

"Hmm," he murmured, thinking.

"Hmm? What the hell does that mean?"

"Unbalanced," Andromeda said sagely, spying his left arm, blood dripping down to his hand from having cut up his Dark Mark when Ginny was downstairs (or so she expected) - an extreme and unbalanced gesture if she had ever seen one. "You're really serious about this dirty traitor thing, aren't you?"

Draco shot her a look, then turned to Molly. She recoiled as soon as he took a step towards her, making him give an appealing look to her daughter over his shoulder.

"Its all right mum," Fred said comfortingly.

Draco took Molly's hands, his fevered eyes closed. Molly stared at him fearfully for a moment, whimpering at the sight of the blood he had pressed onto her hands. However, his disarming grin flashed out and his eyes slid open and he exclaimed "You're perfect!" and Molly blushed to the roots of her hair.

"P...pardon?"

"This house is yours, your domain. I mean, you know it better than any other, you love it more than any other, it is completely yours and it knows it. Therefore, I will channel your magic, convert it to Wild Magic so I don't burn myself out, and cocoon the bastard up so the Death Eaters can't hurt it. Then Sirius will Apparate you to mother's house and everything will be dandy."

"You're going to have to trade your sorcery sickness off to someone," Andromeda said quietly. "What the hell did you do last night anyway?"

"I moved two hundred and thirteen books without a wand and stole twenty eight million galleons in much the same way."

"Nice work, Ginny!" Bill exclaimed into the following silence. "Welcome to the family, mate!"

"I'll take it!" Percy cried suddenly.

"I'm sure you do, Princess," George said kindly, making his brothers snigger.

"I meant this sorcery sickness. I have never been a warrior, I don't use magic often and that's the point, is it not?"

Draco nodded gravely. "You're not going to like it. You will see things and hear things that aren't real; don't believe them. You'll have strange impulses as well. It would be best if you just sat down for the whole time and went to sleep."

"I understand," he replied stiffly. Draco touched him on the forehead and he fell into a chair almost instantly.

"Well done, Perc," Ron muttered, ruffling his brother's hair.

"Very brave of you," the twins agreed.

"Right," Draco said briskly, looking to his aunt. "Do you have the wards up?"

"Give me a moment. You two get started on that distraction," Andromeda ordered. The twins grinned.

Lucius had never been so humiliated. Not only had Draco become a rebellious, wilful, embarrassment of a son, it seemed he was a traitor. It turned out Narcissa was not in Barbados, and she was untraceable. That meant that she was at Hogwarts and she had betrayed him too.

'The thing is, Lucius, the last time you failed me I took it out on your son. Now your son has betrayed me and is no doubt spilling my secrets to Dumbledore, along with your pretty wife. If you don't shut your son up, permanently, I'm going to have to do it; before I do, I will cut you up in front of him so that you'll wish you had never been born. Do you understand?'

He could barely contain himself. It was an agony, a sweet agony, to stand there for an hour, knowing that Arthur Weasley and his children were inside the revolting little house, crying and screaming and wetting themselves over their impending doom. He needed the thought to calm his nerves. Retrieving Draco or not, he knew he would not be without punishment. He had to steel himself to withstand what he rightly deserved for doing his Master wrong. How bad can it be, though? I will single-handedly take out the Weasleys, the noble poster family of the Order, and if I'm lucky, Harry Potter and his revolting Mudblood. Draco, dear boy, you think you have saved their cause by leaving my side but you have betrayed them. There is no glory in nobility my boy, I always told you that. I hope your little slut is worth it. Fuck her and enjoy it boy because it will be your last.

The image of the raggedy house flickered and he blinked furiously. A bottle rolled out in front of them with what looked like water inside. Lucius stared at it, motioning for his men to stay back. He reached for the bottle. It exploded. The light that came out of the explosion was such a pure, bright white that no matter how fast he blinked, he could not see. One ear was deaf and ringing at the same time.

When his vision finally cleared he felt a sickening drop in his stomach. 'The Burrow' could no longer be seen. It seemed as if the horrible little house had been completely encased in vines and twisted tree trunks so thick that no patch of wall, no shutter, no ungainly pipe could be discerned. A cheerful little tree sat on top of it all. And where were the Weasleys? Lucius looked around frantically before he spotted a crowd of red heads, followed by two brunettes and a blonde, were pelting across the field to the thick forests across the paddock. The gangly, lumbering figure of Arthur Weasley was Apparating forward every couple of meters so that he didn't fall behind as he staggered on.

"After them!" Lucius shrieked.

xXxXx

Bill couldn't help grinning as he ran. He, Ginny and Draco ran at the back of the pack and he grinned at them. They grinned back.

We are warriors, we three. We'll give them hell.

The first Apparation cracked into the morning air and he whirled, his curse blowing the Death Eater off his feet, but Bill didn't stop running. A bright green light glowed behind them and Draco turned. With a thump and a grunt, the Killing Curse was repelled back at its owner with a charm Bill had never seen. There were two more cracks, followed closely by a third, fourth and fifth; as one the three spun as they ran, not even having to shield or make a second sweep as the sheer force of Ginny's Incendio obliterated the enemy's curses.

Sometimes Draco would yell "A Dark one!" and Bill would not bother to turn, knowing that it was one of those spells that made the Order death toll what it was. Draco had no trouble until his little-used wand snapped with the force of the repulsion and his strange magic seemed to come with difficulty in the aftermath of his sorcery sickness.

"Brooms!" Ginny cried in panic. Bill could hear them and the rustle of their cloaks. A hex came out of nowhere, but a look over his shoulder told him that it had missed. Suddenly two of the four fliers were knocked off their brooms with explosive force and Bill thought to look forward. They were in range of the forest and a beautiful blonde woman raised her wand again to a devastating effect. They no longer had to turn because Sirius, Narcissa and Andromeda were covering them, their curses flying hard and fast. Just as Bill ducked underneath the branches of their leafy haven, there was a last loud crack.

"Narcissa!" Lucius snarled, ripping his mask off. He was livid. "You will stop that at once and come-"

"Avada Ked-"

"No!" Sirius snapped, plucking her wand out of her grasp.

"Give that back, it's what he deserves!" she reached and slapped for her wand.

"We're safe from him and this sort of homicide rates as war crimes. It's how they work," he said uncomfortably, jerking his chin to the panting Arthur. With a whistle he had summoned the Shadowhounds, the whole Pack slinking forward, ready to do their work. Sirius smiled suddenly. "He's going to be torn apart by his dear Master anyway."

"Run, Lucius!" Narcissa cried mockingly as the Shadowhounds leapt forward. "Run away, you pansy bastard! You could only ever please me with your death because you certainly weren't good for anything else, you little fuck!" Her only answer was a yelp as one of the Shadowhounds caught up with the Death Eater. She turned to her visitors, smiling.

"Tea anyone?"

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A/N: As always, thankyou to my betas and reviewers. Sorry about the delays.