The Enemy of Souls

Author's Notes: Again, this is the REVISED version of this fic.

Also, I forgot to mention in the prologue something I'd like to clear up, because I know it caused some confusion in the past- the battle at Hogsmeade, which happened five years prior to the start of this story (at the end of what would have been Harry's seventh year of school) is not the battle referenced at the end of the summary, the 'wreckage of battle' where Ginny supposedly finds a baby. That battle has yet to take place.

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Chapter One

***

August, 2004

It was dark and damp all around, and it left her feeling as though she were being smothered, suffocated, trapped. The cloying stink of blood filled her nostrils, and it was so dead quiet that she thought, for a single second, that maybe she was dead.

The massive snake was sprawled across the stone cold floor. Then Harry was there, looking as though he'd just been to hell and back, and then everything that had happened began to sink in and she started to cry. The tears blurred her vision; she blinked furiously, and when she could see clearly once again, the room before her had brightened. Absently, she reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes, but her hand stopped halfway- had she been crying? No, she was here... her mind was groggy; she'd just woken from... what?

Her memory of the recent events came flooding back quickly- the last thing she remembered was the flash of red light from an attacking Death Eater as she sat, helplessly collapsed upon the ground. And Ron... where was Ron? Those brains were suffocating him; she had to help him....

Suddenly, time seemed to speed up, and she couldn't keep track of what was happening... Harry was racing past her, chasing after... who? Ron, where was Ron... and then-

Ginny blinked. "Professor Lupin?"

"Are you hurt, Ginny?" he asked kindly. In spite of any gentility in his voice, there was an odd look around his eyes, as though the mere act of thinking pained him.

"No, it's just my ankle... where's Ron? Those things were strangling him, is he-"

"He's fine now, Ginny, waiting to be taken back to Hogwarts once we've got the rest of you rounded up," Lupin explained. "Can you walk?"

"Er... sort of..." Slowly, Lupin helped her get her footing, and he'd just begun leading her to one of the doorways, taking her by the arm, when she remembered. Harry.
"Professor," she asked, "where's Harry gone?"

Something in Lupin's expression closed off, and that odd look about his eyes intensified so much that she suddenly recognized it for what it was. Grief. Agony. Sorrow. Before he could answer, she grew fearful. "Professor, is Harry all right?"

"I think he... should be," Lupin replied. "Dumbledore's gone after him-"

"But where did he go?" she demanded. "He ran through here, he was chasing after..."

Lupin swallowed. "Bellatrix Lestrange," he filled in.

"Yes! Yes, her... but where's he gone, why was he chasing her?" When Lupin didn't answer right away, she persisted, though in a very small voice, "Professor?"

Still, there was a moment's silence, and then he said, very softly, "She killed him."

Ginny was shocked, and slightly bewildered. "Harry?"

"No." Lupin shook his head and cleared his throat, though when he spoke, his voice still sounded hoarse. "Sirius."

Ginny stopped moving, dragging Lupin to a halt as well. She stared at him, thinking she couldn't possibly have heard him right, that Sirius could not possibly be dead... he was Sirius, after all, he couldn't be... he wasn't....

"Come, Ginny." Ginny started as Lupin began leading her along once again, and she was surprised when her eyes began to burn with unbidden tears. Her vision blurred.

Again, once her surroundings came back into focus, she found them changed. She blinked into the stunning sunlight and glanced around to find herself in the streets of Hogsmeade. She felt just a bit odd, as though she should feel sad over something, but she shook that sentiment away. What could possibly be wrong here, and now, on a day like this?

"Something wrong?"

Ginny glanced up into his dark eyes. So beautiful. So captivating. "No." She shook her head. "Just... spaced out for a minute. Are you planning on eating that, or were you going to give it to me?" she asked innocently, indicating the untouched stick of candy in his hand.

His brow furrowed, as though he were puzzled. "Now why on earth," he wondered in mock amazement, "would I buy anything for you?"

She grinned playfully and reached for the candy, but he swung his arm around and away from her, dodging her attempt. "I dunno," she said with a shrug. "Maybe because you... like me... just a little?"

He seemed to think about this for a second, and then shook his head, reaching up to bite off the first piece of the candy. "No, I don't think so."

She swatted him on the arm, and he grinned, dropping his hand. "Well, maybe just a little," he conceded, handing the candy over.

And then the day turned dark... and the air around her was filled with terrified screams... and suddenly, death filled the streets of Hogsmeade.

Confusion everywhere... someone was yanking her out of the way, distantly, she thought to reach for her wand-

"Ginny, move!" There was a sudden flash of green light, shouted words that sent a chill down her spine, and for a split second in time, she knew for sure she was going to die-

Then a flash of red hair, flying in front of her, and in the next instant, she stared down in numb shock at the body of her brother Percy.

"Ginny, come on, we need to get out of here-," Someone was still tugging at her arm, but she only stared. "Percy?" she whispered.

"Gin, c'mon, now-" Before she could try to stop him, he was pulling her down the street, turning a corner, dragging her away from it all-

They stopped short of running into a Death Eater. Ginny only had time to blink before the masked man facing her raised his wand and shot a jet of red light at her, but at the same time, a shouted, "Protego!" came from right beside her, and the two curses seemed to hit at once. Intense pain exploded within Ginny's chest, and though the shield seemed to have done some good as well, her legs gave way and she fell to the ground, the breath knocked out of her. Her head hit the street, her eyes fluttered-

"Gin-"

That was the last word she heard from his mouth. Her vision blurred, her eyes nearly shut; she wasn't sure whether or not she imagined the next flash of green light, the deadly, shouted words of the killing curse, and then his body, slipping onto the ground beside her...

Ginny gasped and jerked beneath her tangle of sheets. Her breathing came short and it took her a moment to remember where she was. It had all come back so vividly.... Trembling slightly, she pushed herself up with one hand and was surprised to find her cheeks wet with tears.

Wiping her face, she shoved all the covers aside and shakily got to her feet, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Slowly, she made her way down to the kitchen and pushed open the door, peering through the darkness.

"All right there, Gin?"

Ginny started, whirling around to face the source of the voice. "Bill! I didn't see you there." Curiously, she made her way over towards him, where he sat at the table with a book in his hand and a glass of milk in the other. "What are you doing here so..." She glanced out the window, and found the very tip of the sun peeking over the horizon. "So early?"

"I could ask you that." He gave her a nod of his head with a hint of a smile. Ginny wasn't known for an early riser. "No, I have an early shift this morning and I thought I'd stop by here for breakfast. Mum's been complaining that she hasn't seen much of me lately." He took a sip of his milk. "What about you? Early work shift as well? I thought you mostly work nights now."

Ginny sighed and nodded. "Yeah, mostly I do. I just got off a few hours ago. But I... just couldn't sleep." Feeling strangely tremulous, she went to get her own glass of milk before joining him at the table.

He regarded her silently for a moment, and then asked quietly, "Bad dreams?"

"Sort of," she said evasively.

He didn't press. "So how is work, then?" he inquired.

She shrugged. "All right." After a moment's hesitation, she confessed, "Not so good."

His brow furrowed in a frown. "Why not? Difficult cases?"

"No." She shook her head, smiling bitterly. "It's not the cases assigned to me that are the trouble."

Suddenly understanding, Bill spared her a sympathetic smile. "Ah. Well, it'll turn out all right-"

"My boss doesn't seem to think so," she noted dryly. "He brought me into his office the other day. He's... concerned that I'm spending too much of my time on an 'insignificant' case." She took a big gulp of milk.

"Well, don't listen to him," Bill joked.

"I dunno." Ginny stared into her glass of milk. "Maybe I should. Maybe I should just give it up."

"Ginny-"

"It's not like-" She swallowed. "It's not like I don't already know that he's dead."

Bill watched her intently. "Ginny," he said gently, "you were unconscious. You were already down. You don't know that he's-"

"I heard the curse," Ginny whispered. "I saw- green light. I know-"

"You think you heard, you think you saw," Bill reminded her. "They never found his body, Gin. I think there's a good chance he's out there somewhere."

"Maybe." Ginny shrugged. "All I know is, my boss isn't happy-"

"Forget about him." Bill waved a dismissive hand. "What about you?"

She stared at the tabletop. "I'll be fine," she said dully.

"Gin-"

"I think I'll go back to bed," she said abruptly, getting to her feet.

She knew that anyone else, especially in her family, would have pushed her to sit back down, forced her to talk it over, but Bill only gave her a knowing smile. "All right, then. G'night, Gin."

- - - - -

Carina shoved the door open violently and strode inside. Facing the man seated before her, she stopped abruptly and crossed her arms over her chest, more to keep her hands from flying around in an enraged frenzy than anything else.

Lupin took one look at her scowling face and smiled pleasantly. "It went well, I take it?" he asked, sounding amused.

"That man," Carina snapped, "is a complete prick."

Lupin dipped his quill into an inkpot and put the tip to parchment. "Well, he is a Malfoy, after all," he reminded her. Really, Carina felt that he seemed to be enjoying her irritation far too much.

"I knew him at school," she pointed out. "A bit, anyway, and he wasn't that bad. You'd think that he would have matured a little, not gotten worse."

Lupin glanced up with a raised eyebrow, a skeptical smile on his face. Carina sighed hugely, falling into an armchair. "Or not."

Lupin cleared his throat tactfully, wiping any trace of mirth from his face. "Is this going to be too difficult for you, then?" he asked mildly.

"No," she replied, almost mechanically, as though the idea of failure had not even occurred to her. "I can do it. I will." Anxiously, she began fiddling with her nails. "It's just going to be slightly more difficult than I thought. He wasn't completely receptive of me."

"Well, he was just released from prison a few months ago," Lupin admitted, sitting back in his chair. "He got off easy- only five years- but still, I'm sure it was no picnic in the park. Perhaps you should just give it some time. Be patient."

Carina sighed, throwing her hands in the air. "Why me?" she demanded crossly.

Lupin shrugged. "Unfortunately, without Snape-" His mouth twisted bitterly, "we don't have much to go on, when it comes to Draco Malfoy. Tonks gave us as best an assessment as she could, and in the end, we concluded that you seemed best suited for this job. You're a pureblood, and your family has been known to support Voldemort in the past. And, of course, you are one of the few of us who was not a Gryffindor-" Lupin smiled in amusement, "which is essential, I'm sure, when it comes to any Malfoy."

Carina carefully examined a breaking nail. "What if he doesn't know anything?" she asked. "What if he knows nothing about Lucius's whereabouts? Or anyone else, for that matter. You yourself said it, he was only released from prison a few months ago. Besides, I'd imagine most of the Death Eaters aren't too happy with him, otherwise, they would have gotten him out of prison the same time Lucius escaped. Clearly, he isn't in the loop."

"No, I imagine they aren't, as a whole, very happy with him," Lupin agreed with a sigh. "But he is Lucius' son, and I don't doubt that Lucius contacted him as soon as he was released from prison. To make sure that Draco is safe, if nothing else. Besides-" Lupin rubbed his temple, suddenly looking very weary, "I know you understand, Carina, that a wasted effort is better than risking the alternative."

Carina pursed her lips, clenching her hands together in her lap. "Yes," she said tightly, "I do." She got to her feet and said resolutely, "I'll have a date with him by next week."

Lupin smiled at her new resolve. "Excellent. And thank you again for doing this, Carina. I know it is extremely difficult to put up with him."

Nearly a week later found Carina sitting with Draco Malfoy in an expensive restaurant just outside Diagon Alley, biting her tongue in an attempt to keep from yawning in her date's face. She was fairly certain that her smile was now so pasted onto her lips that even if she tried, she wouldn't be able to remove it. He'd been droning on about his new job in the Department of International Magical Cooperation for the past thirty minutes now, his new job which, he was very proud to have secured, so soon after being released from prison. But in spite of how determined she'd been to get a date with him- as was required of her- she couldn't help but direly wish that she had not happened upon Malfoy just as he was having a rather heated argument with Pansy Parkinson, and therefore, had unintentionally supplied herself as a perfect way to make Pansy jealous.

"-and really, the position is fairly good," Malfoy went on, "considering it's a job I've only just secured after being released-"

Only because it was all bought for you, she thought in disgust. A former Death Eater notwithstanding, Carina was sure the Ministry hadn't forgotten all those considerably large donations Lucius had made. The Malfoy name may not count for much anymore, but Malfoy money certainly does.

"-though I must say," Malfoy was saying, "it really can be terribly boring."

You think? Carina thought sourly.

He actually fell silent for a second before adding longingly, "If I could, I'd like to change departments. Change jobs entirely."

Carina looked at him in surprise, and seized upon the subject before he could keep talking. "What would you rather be doing?" she asked.

He actually hesitated, which in itself looked odd for him, before admitting, "I'd really like to do something with Quidditch."

Carina eyed him appraisingly for a moment before leaning back in her chair with a single nod of her head. "You were an excellent Seeker back in school," she said truthfully.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Potter-"

"Don't even mention Potter," Carina cut in. "He was good too, but that's not the point, is it? Potter and Gryffindor aside, you won almost every game for Slytherin, didn't you? Maybe lost to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, what, once in the entire five years you played on the team?"

"Something like that," Malfoy agreed slowly.

"So you could play," Carina told him, "if you put yourself out there."

Malfoy seemed to be considering these words for a few moments. There was an oddly wistful look in his eyes before he shook his head, and then it was gone. "My father wants me in the Ministry," he muttered.

Carina hoped she didn't visibly jump at the mention of his father, and she tried to play it off nonchalantly. If she pressed, it might look suspicious. "Oh?" she prompted casually.

"I don't know that he would even approve of me working in the Department of Magical Games and Sports," Malfoy went on sourly.

Carina waited, but nothing else came, so she swallowed and decided to risk it. "Well, I don't see why you need to worry, then. He can't do anything about it now, can he?" she said innocently.

Maybe too innocently. Malfoy's eyes snapped up and narrowed as he stared into her face, which she kept painfully blank and oblivious. After a moment of scrutiny, he glanced away, shaking his head. "You'd be surprised," he muttered. Before she could even decide if she should risk pressing further, he turned the tables, after calling for more wine. "So what about you? You work in St. Mungo's, don't you?"

"I've just finished training to be a Healer," Carina replied, and was forced, from there, to elaborate on herself. To try and steer the conversation back to Lucius would be far too obvious.

It grew dark and dim outside as the evening hours waned, and Malfoy consumed more and more wine. Carina allowed herself perhaps a bit more than she probably should have had, but as long as she kept a close check on her tongue and didn't let her true intentions slip- which, she figured, she'd have to be extremely drunk to do- the situation was still in her control.

Malfoy, however, was fairly far-gone when they finally rose from the table, late into the night. He swayed slightly as he tossed a few Galleons down onto the table, and then he and Carina staggered out of the restaurant, onto the dark street.

Malfoy squinted down the street and casually slung an arm around Carina's shoulders. "Where to now, love?" he asked, blinking a few times as he steered her forward a couple of drunken steps.

"Wherever," Carina said indifferently. Strangely, she found she was not as tempted to say 'Home' as she might have been a couple hours ago; all the wine seemed to have settled into a warm lump in the pit of her stomach and any tense anxieties she might have had seemed to have dissipated into the air. She found a smile playing upon her lips, so aware of Malfoy's warm, comforting body so close to hers.

Malfoy seemed to be considering the options, and finally pronounced, "It's late. Everything might be closing." Before Carina could answer, he swung his head around to face her, leaning in close until his lips brushed her ear as he spoke. "Come home with me," he murmured. It was a request, though spoken as a statement.

Carina only hesitated for a second. She was, after all, supposed to be doing all that she could to get close to Malfoy... with that in mind, any other reservations she might have had about going home, late at night, slightly drunk, and on a first date with Draco Malfoy were whisked away.

"Okay," she agreed, and a moment later, they Apparated to Malfoy Manor.

- - - -

October, 2004

"Well, James-" Ginny smiled broadly at the baby in her arms, "if you're a very good boy for the Healer, then you and I can go out afterwards and spend the whole day together."

James gurgled in response, and Ginny giggled. She absolutely adored her two-month old nephew, George's son, and was only too happy to take him for his check-up at St. Mungo's. George's wife, Diana, was meeting them there, after running a few emergency errands in the morning, and George hadn't been able to make it because Fred had taken ill overnight, so George had to open the shop for the day.

A part of her was relieved to be free of her family for the day, and though she felt a bit guilty over that, she wasn't going to try and deny it. Since the battle in Hogsmeade five years ago, they'd begun to hover over her like mother hens, and they hadn't let up one bit. She felt suffocated by their constant concern, always demanding, taking in her air until she felt she had none left with which to breathe. Of her parents and five remaining brothers, Bill alone understood when she needed space, and listened attentively when she needed to speak (and those times only came willingly with Bill). Charlie, still in Romania, had written her more letters in the past five years than he ever had since he'd moved from home. Fred and George were over more often with their offers to take her out, especially to join them in their store for a bit. And Ron. Ron, she reflected sourly, was probably the worst. His concern infuriated her; why should he care for her loss when he'd protested so fervently against the attachment she'd formed?

It really was her own fault, anyway. She had enough money by now that she could buy her own flat, and move out of the Burrow, but she'd been putting it off for the past two years. Perhaps, subconsciously, she really was more grateful for her family's attention than she thought she was. Perhaps, even though she detested their constant worrying, in the end, she just didn't want to be alone.

She'd certainly been very relieved to return to school for her seventh year, after the attack on Hogsmeade the previous spring. That summer with her family had been absolutely unbearable. Of course, school hadn't turned out much better. She received the same sort of treatment from her friends that she'd received from her family all summer long, and when she wasn't dealing with them, she was forced to deal with... life, and all the complications it entailed. Getting through each day had been an enormous, impossible feat, especially when she thought of all the time she had in front of her. And school... well, school was a constant reminder of how much everything had changed, at school, where every corner of every room brought back memories of him, and served as a gnashing reminder that she would no longer spend those days with him.

She'd begun training to become an Auror after school, which she was beginning to think had been something of a mistake. It gave her the perfect opportunity to search for some trace of him, to keep some hope alive that maybe he wasn't dead. Perhaps, if she didn't have the resources to look, she would have been able to put it to rest, and just accept that he was really gone.

Taking a deep breath, she put all that behind her and tried to focus on the baby boy in her arms. She checked him in with the witch at the front desk of St. Mungo's without any trouble, and settled down in the waiting area for a nurse. Diana arrived a few minutes later.

"Whew! Oh, Gin, thanks so much for bringing him." Beaming, Diana took her son from Ginny, sinking into a chair beside her. "When George said he was going to have to run the shop today, I thought I'd have to postpone going by Gringott's-"

"Oh, it's fine." Ginny cut her off with a smile. "I was free for the morning, and I absolutely adore-" She frowned as her eyes caught the back glimpse of someone lurching into the stairwell, the door slamming shut behind him. She blinked, as though to clear her mind. That almost looked like-

"Ginny?" Diana let out an uncertain laugh, bringing her attention back around. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh- yeah, I'm fine." Ginny forced a smile, still distracted. "Sorry, I just... spaced out a little." She glanced out of the corner of her eye, as though to see the stairwell behind her. "Erm, listen, I really want to catch up with you, but I need to run a quick errand here in the hospital- do you want to meet up here after James's checkup, and we can go for lunch somewhere?"

"Sure, Ginny, that sounds fine." Diana smiled, but she still looked a little wary. "There's plenty of time, the nurse told me they were running a bit late. But what-"

"Sorry, got to run." Leaving her sister-in-law behind, Ginny hurried past the nurse's station and pushed open the door to the back stairwell. She stopped short, just inside, and glanced around with a furrowed brow. Huh. The stairs seemed empty. Leaning over the railing, she peered up between the staircase, and then turned her gaze below her. No one, not a trace. She was just about to turn back and join Diana when something black caught her eye, just as she was pulling back from the railing. Something black... like black robes.... Her eyes widened. Was that a person lying on the landing below her?

Her curiosity piqued, she practically leapt down the stairs, her legs nearly flying out beneath her as she rounded the corner. She came to an abrupt halt a few steps from the following landing, stopping herself just short of a gasp. The black-robed man had propped himself up on his elbows, sitting hunched with his back to her. And he was- no. Surely it couldn't be-

"Malfoy?" Ginny stumbled down the last couple of steps, automatically taking her wand from inside her pocket as she approached him. Her eyes widened when she spotted blood staining the ripped fabric of his robes down his back, and she couldn't say that she was entirely prepared when his head rolled around unsteadily and his gaze settled on her face.

His eyes, slightly unfocused, narrowed in puzzlement, as though he couldn't make out who she was. She was just about to demand as to what had happened to him, when his eyes widened slightly in recognition.

"Weasley?" Her name slipped from his lips in a slurred mumble, and then quite suddenly, his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he slumped sideways, his arms giving out beneath him as he sprawled before her in an unconscious heap.

For a moment, Ginny could only gape. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. She knew he'd been released from prison- the Order had someone spying on him, in fact- but she hadn't actually laid eyes on him since the end of her fifth year. Since... the night Dumbledore had died.

She clenched her teeth against her own volition. The night Dumbledore was murdered by a Death Eater. The night Bill was mauled and irrevocably scarred by a Death Eater. The night Draco Malfoy let such Death Eaters into the school.

He was a Death Eater himself, of course. Ginny's eyes strayed to his left arm, but his robes covered the telltale mark. He'd spent the last five years in prison atoning for his crimes, but Ginny didn't feel five years was nearly long enough.

They'd let him off easy, from what she'd heard, on account of his youth and the excuse that he was 'a product of his unfortunate environment.' And besides, they hadn't hard evidence for half the crimes he'd actually committed. As far as Ginny was concerned, that meant he'd only half paid for what he'd done. That meant she could turn her back on him right this instant and leave him dying on the stairwell landing...

Ginny sighed. "Oh, damn," she whispered, dubiously squatting down to the ground beside Malfoy. She couldn't leave him to die. That made her no better than him and his lot, no better than some common murderer.

None too gently, she prodded him with a finger. "Malfoy?" she asked, a bit irritated that she'd stumbled into this mess. "Malfoy? Hello? Are you..." She wrinkled her nose, "...all right?"

Quite obviously, however, he was not all right. Grumbling to herself, she straightened upright and glanced around. "Hello?" she called out, pushing open the door to the main floor. The hall before her seemed surprisingly empty. "Hello? Help?" she called, just a bit desperately. She glanced back down at Malfoy. For a moment, she considered just leaving him there, turning her back on him, and walking straight back up to her baby nephew with none the wiser.

It only took that moment, however, for her to dismiss this idea. She stared at him, thoroughly disgruntled that he had put her in this situation. She wanted to leave him. She wanted to leave him, right there, right now, but all she could think was how Harry had told her what he'd seen from Malfoy, up in the tower where Dumbledore had died. How he'd been so desperate to save his family, how he'd been ready to drop his wand and give in, how he simply wasn't a killer...

Ginny sighed. He was a horrible, insufferable, evil Death Eater of a git, but if she just left him there, he might die. Besides, who knew what had happened to him? It certainly was curious, him injured like this. With these thoughts in mind, she bent down, grasped him by the shoulders, and lifted him up. At least, that's what she attempted to do. However, with a small grunt, she got no further than lifting his shoulders up off the ground before dropping him altogether.

"You're always so much trouble, aren't you, Malfoy?" she murmured, staring at him in complete consternation. "Even completely oblivious to it all, you cause so much trouble."

The door to the stairwell swung open, startling her completely, and a nurse stuck her head out from behind the doorframe. "Hello, did I hear someone call for- oh!" The nurse's eyes widened as she caught sight of Malfoy. "Dear Merlin, what happened?" she demanded, hurrying to his side.

Ginny shrugged. "I'm not really sure- I just found him like this."

"Oh, dear." Pursing her lips, the nurse waved her wand at Malfoy's body and said, "Mobilicorpus!" Instantly, Malfoy's body rose into the air and hovered there. Nodding in satisfaction, she turned, keeping her wand upon Malfoy, and waved a busy hand at Ginny. "Could you get the door, there, please?"

Ginny pushed open the door, watching with a narrowed gaze as Malfoy floated past her. She really was very curious to know what had happened to him, and really, she reasoned, it was her job to investigate such things. With that decided, she hurried after the unconscious Malfoy and the nurse, who was soon joined by a Healer.

About thirty minutes and a quick examination later found Malfoy laid flat on a bed on the fourth floor, for spell damage, as the Healer determined his wounds were the result of some spell or curse. Ginny had surreptitiously followed Malfoy and the Healer around the hospital, and once he was resting in his bed, back and torso bandaged, she crept into his room, unnoticed by the nurses. She wasn't exactly sure why she felt this need for secrecy- even though he probably wasn't allowed any visitors excepting family, she could be granted access to him on account of being an Auror. But for some reason, she wanted this visit off the record and kept to herself.

She was shutting the door behind her when a voice in the room asked, "Can I help you, miss?"

Ginny whirled around to find the nurse who had helped her in the stairwell eyeing her expectantly. She bit her lip on a curse; she hadn't realized anyone was still in the room. "Oh, er- I just wanted to sit with him?"

By the look on her face, the nurse wasn't very keen on this idea. Before she could object, Ginny quickly said, "Please, just until he wakes up? I'm... worried about him," she ended lamely, sounding terribly unconvincing.

The nurse watched her for a moment, but then she nodded. "All right, just be careful about him, please." She shut the cabinet she'd been rooting around in, turned away, and left the room.

Glancing around hesitantly, Ginny found a chair and drew it up to Malfoy's bedside. From there, she watched him uneasily. Truthfully, of course, she wasn't the slightest bit worried about him, but the Order had spies on him for a reason, and his unexplained injuries were certainly cause for suspicion.

When Malfoy finally stirred and blinked his eyes open, Ginny was waiting patiently with as pleasant a smile as she could muster on her face, though she feared it was more of a grimace. His eyes, once cleared of their groggy uncertainty, sought her face.

"Hello," she greeted him, just a slight edge to her tone.

He blinked a few times, as though he could not quite believe what he was seeing. Then, "You know you've died and gone to hell," he said, his voice a bit hoarse, "when the first thing you see when you open your eyes is a redheaded Weasley."

She pursed her lips, stifling the instant surge of angry frustration at his jibe. "Are there non-redheaded Weasleys?" she asked in reply, struggling to keep her voice civil.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed slightly and he eyed her coolly before glancing around. "Where in Merlin's name am I?" he muttered.

"Where does it look like, you silly twit?" Ginny demanded in exasperation. "The hospital, of course. Which makes sense, considering you were lurking around in the stairwell with your back torn open."

His eyes narrowed further. "I wasn't lurking," he informed her, struggling to push himself upright. Halfway through, he tensed and promptly collapsed back from his elbows, letting out a yelp of pain. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. "I'm dying!"

"If only," Ginny snapped. "Though I wouldn't recommend that again, if I were you. Anyway, you were, weren't you? Lurking, I mean?"

Malfoy eyed her sourly. "No," he answered, "I was not 'lurking,' as you put it."

She leaned forward impatiently. "Then what were you doing?"

Malfoy smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know, Weasley. I suppose that's what you're doing here, is it?"

"I'm here on my own business, Malfoy."

"Right," he agreed, "and that business includes checking up on random patients, torturing them with your annoying questions for fun. Well, I suppose I wouldn't expect much else from a Weasley."

Ginny sighed. "I rather thought you might have outgrown all that silly nonsense," she said in a bored voice. "I suppose I should've known better. After all, at- what?- forty years of age, your father was still making immature jibes at my father in a public bookshop."

Malfoy scowled. "Go away, Weasley."

"But you haven't answered my question."

"Do you really expect me to?"

"You might," Ginny said quietly. "As a favor."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed again, though this time, in scrutiny rather than annoyance. She was surprised when, as was shown by his next words, he understood her hidden meaning. "I never much liked him to begin with, Weasley," he said bluntly, "and I lost even more respect for him when I heard he was dating you."

"You liked him," she accused.

"And how would you know?" he demanded.

"You talked to him."

"Well, Merlin, Weasley, I'm talking to you. Doesn't mean I suddenly want to jump into bed with you, does it?"

"Erm- no," she replied, slightly unnerved by this analogy, "and I'd be a bit disturbed if you'd ever wanted to jump into bed with him."

Malfoy closed his eyes and leaned his head back, as though suddenly tired. "So would I, Weasley. So would I."

"You only didn't like him because he didn't worship the ground you walked on, and because he didn't buy into all that piffle from You-Know-Who, like you did," Ginny shot at him, "and because he was pureblood, but he deigned to date a blood traitor like me. That drove you mad, didn't it, Malfoy?"

"You don't know me, Weasley," Malfoy said harshly, "so stop talking as though you do. In fact, stop talking entirely and leave me alone."

She was suddenly quite angry with him for the simple reason that he was who he was. She suddenly couldn't stand to look at him and bear the fact that this waste of a human being was still living and breathing when he was not. Furiously, she got to her feet and made as though to storm out.

Halfway to the door, however, she paused and turned back. "Malfoy," she said in exasperation, "what in the world did happen to you?"

"For your information, Weasley," he snapped back, "I was working on an independent project for work and a difficult spell that I tried backfired. There. Are you happy?"

Ginny was not at all. She stared at him incredulously, wondering if she was actually expected to believe what was possibly the worst lie in the history of the world. When she didn't leave, he raised an eyebrow in irritation and waved a dismissive hand at her, and completely stunned and frustrated, she actually turned away and obeyed.

- - - - -

It was well into autumn, and the days were growing shorter and darker. The kitchen of Grimmauld Place was dimly lit by a few candles here and there, and Hermione was completely alone, bent over her parchment. Earlier at work that day, Ron had mentioned that he would be stopping by the Burrow before he came home for that evening, and no doubt he would stay for dinner. She too, of course, had been invited, but had loads to work on and opted for a quiet night of work over family dinner.

She was lucky in that she hadn't had any need, once school was over, to immediately find a place of her own. Grimmauld Place was left, which had been left to Harry when Sirius died, was still used strictly for order headquarters and business. With Sirius dead, however, there was no consistent person to stay and look after the house, though order members often flitted through. Remus Lupin had generally taken care of the place, but he'd been extremely busy lately, as the task of running the Order had unofficially fallen to him after Dumbledore died, so the house was left in need of someone else. Ron and Hermione volunteered, after the battle at Hogsmeade and things began to settle down. Members of the Weasley family frequently came by, as well as other order members, so they were not often left alone in the big house, but it was, in all ways that mattered, theirs. It certainly wasn't Hermione's idea of a dream home- but a home, for the moment.

She didn't expect Ron back well into the night, and therefore was taken by surprise when she heard footsteps in the hall outside. Frowning, she got to her feet. "Ron? Is that you?" she called. She reached for the closed kitchen door, but before she could lay a finger on it, it swung open.

Slightly alarmed, Hermione swept back and went for her wand. "What in Merlin's name?-" she began, raising her wand, but then a shadowy figure stumbled into the room and nearly collapsed to the floor. Even in the dark, Hermione recognized him immediately.

"Ron!" she gasped, hurrying forward. "Oh, Merlin- Ron-" He was bleeding and haggard, looking as though he'd been involved in some sort of brawl. For a moment, he didn't say anything, couldn't say anything as he gasped for breath and let Hermione help him into a chair, where he promptly slumped over.

"Ron, what happened?" Hermione demanded, trying to check him over for the worst of his wounds. "Have you been attacked? Where-"

Ron mumbled something unintelligible. Hermione shook her head. "What? What did you-"

"Death- Death Eaters." His breaths shallow, Ron glanced up, tried to straighten. "Death Eaters-"

"What?" Horrified, Hermione shook her head. "What do you mean, Death Eaters? Who, where-"

"Harry," Ron gasped, bringing Hermione to a sharp halt. "Looking- for Harry-" And before he could give her any more information, he gasped sharply and slumped forward, unconscious, and leaving Hermione utterly shocked.