Long-hidden Skies

Chapter Two

Puppy Eyes Don't Work On a Malfoy

The sun barely spilled through the small crack that Ginny affectionately called a window. She had to have something cheery to focus on, after all, and the line of yellow across the far side of her cell was as good as anything. Certainly it was better than the flat pallet that served as her mattress, and the rats that tended to nibble on her toes if she wasn't especially vigilant.

It was morning; at least, as far as she could tell. A plate of unappetizing slop had already been shoved through the flap at the bottom of the door. She stared at it, curling her lip in disgust, and figured she could go at least another day without eating. The water, though, she grabbed and took a rationed sip. There was no telling when they'd get around to giving her more.

Scooping up a small stone that she'd sharpened on one side, she added a diagonal line across the four others on the wall above her makeshift bed. Another bundle had been scraped into the stone next to it, making for a grand total of ten marks. Ten days. It had been over a week since she'd been thrown into the roughly eight-by-eight cell.

She readily admitted it was from her own stupidity.

After the battle of Avignon, while Hermione and her parents had been riddled with Memory Charms and spirited away to new lives, it had been considered safer, and much more prudent, for Ginny to be sent into the bosom of her family - hiding in plain sight, Dumbledore had told her. She'd been protected by the sheer magnitude of the Weasley family's force of will.

Consequently, when Hogwarts fell and the families of the Order had been relocated to the ocean side camp, Ginny had gone as well, living just under the radar of the New Ministry. When wizards and witches started losing faith in the Order, she'd been integral in bolstering their flagging spirits, preaching to all who'd listen of the importance of fighting until there was no fight left in them; that their loyalty and bravery meant all to the cause. When her mum and dad had been captured and tried for treason, Ginny had stood defiantly - though, admittedly, hidden by her robes - at the back of the courtroom, flanked by her equally cloaked brothers; Fred, Charlie and George. And when her parents had been found guilty and earmarked for execution, she had single-handedly staged the most elaborate breakout the wizarding world had seen since Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban.

Which was, she figured, when everything had gone wrong.

Sending her mum and dad ahead on her Cleansweep, she'd been spotted scrambling over the compound wall, and positively identified by an unspecified Death Eater - who Ginny strongly suspected was Malfoy, knowing that he'd been the only guard assigned to the northeast sector that night. Before she could even make it past the outside hedge and to a safe Apparating point, she'd been intercepted.

Ginny had made sure her parents would be alive to cuddle George's first son, Fred Jr. - George had cheerfully offered Fred the use of the moniker 'George Jr.' in exchange - and she'd been left holding the bag, so to speak. Not that the evil gits had really needed any reason to lock her up. They had just needed to catch her alone and outside the Order's wards. Which they had. Because she, quite foolishly, had let them.

Her stomach growled almost painfully and she pressed a hand to it, lying back on her filthy pallet with a resigned sigh. She'd gone nearly two days without touching the lumpy, gray food they gave her, and she was dreading spooning any of the foul mixture into her mouth. Survival, however, would eventually necessitate it.

Besides the three meals they shoved into her cell each day, Ginny was essentially left alone. She knew it was far better than the alternative, but solitary confinement proved more difficult than she had ever imagined. She'd figured it'd be more of a relief than a punishment; growing up in a full house would skew a person's thoughts that way. But really, it was torture to any social creature. And Ginny, a vocal propagandist for the Order, was more social than most.

Rolling onto her side, she gazed across the small, dimly lit cell at the fat, brown rat that had taken up residence in a back corner. She didn't mind him as much as the others, since he usually politely waited for her to fall asleep before making a meal of her feet. And his fastidious cleaning rituals, which she bore witness to most every morning, made her fancifully think he was a reincarnation of Percy, there to watch over her and atone for his failings in life... except for the whole feet eating thing, of course.

Percy-the-rat twitched himself out of the corner, slinking stealthily towards her full plate, the rancid smell no doubt making him drool. Ginny shuddered at his happy squeaks and chewing noises and then at his angry, indignant squeals at having to share his feast with the three other rats occupying the cell with them - aptly named Snape, Pansy and Fudge. She found herself chatting with them at times, of course, since it was minutely better than talking to herself, but that didn't mean she had to hold any sort of affection for them.

Footsteps echoing down the hall outside her cell caused the rats to scatter briefly before skulking back to risk more food, their hunger overriding any fear. Ginny clutched her marking stone and pulled herself to her feet. It couldn't be near time for lunch, she reasoned.

Swiftly, she positioned herself beside the door, her fist wrapped tightly around the rock and poised in the air.

"It's alright, Dane," someone said, his words muffled by the thick wooden door. "McNair just wants a few answers about last night."

There was a rattling at the door and Ginny watched anxiously as it creaked slowly open.

"I've got all the clearance right here," the man said impatiently, the voice clearer but still unrecognizable. There was an answering mutter, a brief shuffling of papers and then the retreating clomp of boot soles as one of the guards walked away.

The door swung wide and the man cursed lightly as he stepped into the dim cell. Ginny was ready for him, though, and the only sound was a slight whoosh as she landed her fist at his temple, causing him to stagger sideways. Unfortunately, she'd overestimated her strength, which had waned considerably without the benefit of a proper diet, and the man merely shook his head, slammed the door shut, and lit his wand with a terse incantation.

Draco Malfoy glared at her, dabbing the small cut on his head with his fingers. "Whatever possessed you," he said in a strangely calm tone, "to try that idiotic stunt? If it hadn't been me--"

"If it hadn't been you," Ginny cut in with an angry cry, "I'd probably die a much faster death."

"Trying to get yourself killed, Weasley?" the blond asked dryly.

"No," she sneered, "I was trying to escape, you sod. But since that turned out as a miserable failure, I figured you'd want to draw out my pain-filled final scene for as long as possible. You're a delusional bastard if you thought I'd just sit here placidly, waiting for some lackey Death Eater to curse me into oblivion. I'm sure the plan was to feed me so much swill my body would start killing itself just so it'd never have to swallow another bite, but I'd eat the damn rats before giving up without a fight!" It didn't occur to her until after she'd finished her scathing speech that she might've wanted to keep quiet in the face of a wrathful Death Eater. But it was Malfoy standing before her, and she found she really couldn't stem her anger at him.

Draco arched a silver brow. "Are you done?"

Ginny was no where near done, but she'd expended so much energy already, she found herself suddenly dizzy, sweaty, and just a tad nauseous. She staggered backwards a step to lean against the wall, but her legs collapsed beneath her and she dropped in a heap onto the floor. Groaning, head spinning, she placed a hand to her clammy forehead; she probably should have eaten her breakfast.

After taking several deep breaths, the nausea finally subsided and Ginny risked a glance up at Malfoy, who still hovered by the door. He was surveying the room with disgust; his eyes narrowed on Percy as the rat viciously gnawed another hole in her already holey blanket.

Finally, he swung his gaze back to her. "Done?" he asked again, mockingly. "Good. You're filthy, Weasley."

"So sorry, Malfoy," she said weakly, mustering barely a glimmer of sarcasm. "If I'd known you were visiting, I'd have made myself and the rats more presentable. As it is, I'm afraid my dress robes are at the laundry."

One of the rats sniffed a little too curiously in Malfoy's direction, and he gave it a swift kick, knocking it hard against the cell wall. That the rat was the one Ginny had dubbed Snape seemed fitting and hysterically funny to her depraved body, and she started giggling helplessly.

Draco hunched down in front of her, worried that her mind had possibly snapped. "You're not going crazy on me, are you, Weasley?"

She shot him a horrible mockery of a grin and said, "You just kicked Snape."

"Um, yes. Well, that's very interesting," he said slowly.

"The rat," she clarified, pointing over to the stunned, slightly disoriented rodent.

"Named your furry friends, have you?" He rocked back on his haunches, watching as the other three rats approached the injured one, poised to attack. "I assume," he continued, resigned, "one of the beasts is named after me, then?"

She snorted. "You assume too much."

"What?" He chuckled mirthlessly. "Not even that dapper looking one with the white spot on his chest?"

"You don't even rate, Malfoy," she ground out.

He stared at her, taking in her tired, angry eyes and dirt-smudged face. Her hair was stringy and straggling about her shoulders. Her robes were torn and hanging off her thin frame. Reaching out, he smoothed one of her brows with a thumb. "You look like you've been to hell and back, Weasley," he muttered.

"I'm still there, if you hadn't noticed."

Draco abruptly stood up and stepped away from her. "We've got a problem."

"We?" asked Ginny, eyebrows arched.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes and shook his head. "You contacted Granger last night."

"How...?"

"They already knew you'd had contact with her before, Weasley," he chastened. "Didn't you think they'd have your magic monitored?"

Ginny's mouth dropped open. She hadn't thought of that at all. "Oh, God," she moaned.

"Did you even wonder why you've been here so long, and no one has touched you?" he growled.

"I thought--"

He cut off her words with a slash of his hand. "You weren't really thinking at all, were you?" he queried derisively.

She flinched at his tone, her mind numb. Oh, they were far cleverer than she'd given them credit for. No wonder they'd placed me in solitary confinement...

"They can't break you until they find Granger, Weasley," Draco went on, "and you went ahead and opened the link!" He shook his head and muttered, "Idiot," under his breath. "I hadn't been planning on moving this soon."

Ginny blinked. "What?"

"Listen, Weasley. I can buy us about fifteen minutes tonight; possibly twenty, but I don't want to push it," he explained, his eyes hard on hers. "Your brother's only been able to get as close as the forest just outside the south sector, and I can only take you as far as the security troll checkpoint without setting off any wards." A smirk played about his lips. "I believe you've made it past them before undetected, so there shouldn't be a problem there. You've got--"

"Malfoy," Ginny interrupted. "What, in the name of Merlin, are you talking about?"

"Getting you out of here," he said.

"You, Draco Malfoy, are helping me escape, along with... one of my brothers?"

"Yes, yes," Draco said impatiently. "It's all very strange and unbelievable. I've called in a few favors," he continued, "and managed to get us a small window of time when the west corridor will be virtually empty. As long as we're quick and quiet, Weasley, you'll be home before midnight."

Ginny closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against them, sure she was in the midst of some sort of hallucination brought on by extreme hunger. But then, if that were the case, Malfoy would've been a giant dancing shepherd's pie.

"Be ready to leave immediately when I arrive tonight. The Weasel's going to be waiting around all day, so when you--"

She choked off a laugh. He only ever called one of her brothers, 'Weasel.' "Ron? Ron is helping you?"

"No," he replied scathingly. "I'm helping him. Now if I could just--"

"Doesn't sound likely either way, Malfoy," she pointed out.

Draco clenched his teeth. "As I was saying, when you reach the other side of the south wall, whistle these three notes," he said, then proceeded to demonstrate. "Try it."

"But I--"

"Whistle, Weasley," he ground out.

"Fine," she huffed, then did a quick imitation.

He nodded. "Good. Look for me right after dark." He glanced up at her crack of a window, then down at her half-empty plate. "In the meantime, I'll try and get something more palatable for you for lunch."

"Why?" she asked softly as he reached for the door.

He looked back over his shoulder. "You're going to need your strength, Weasley. I'm not going to carry you out of here."

"No, I mean, why are you helping me escape?" She clutched an uneven part of the wall and hauled herself up onto her feet.

Draco scowled. "It doesn't really concern you."

She took a step towards him, head cocked in confusion. "It doesn't?"

"No," he said, turning away from her and opening the door, "not at all."

He left without a goodbye, closing the door behind him with a loud slam, leaving her alone with the rats and the single line of mid-morning sun.

******

Malfoy was good to his word, and Ginny was actually able to identify her lunch as a piece of chicken and a biscuit. Not exactly haut cuisine, but to her pinched stomach it was heavenly. She tried her level best to eat slowly, for fear that her stomach might rebel after being starved for so long, but her hunger, and the clamoring, insistent rats, made it hard to savor the meal. Shaking Pansy off for the fifth time, she gulped down the last few bites nearly whole.

After eating, she carefully examined the cuts on her toes and the bottoms of her feet, ripping the cleanest bits of her robes off to use as bandages. She wasn't completely sure she trusted Malfoy, but really, in the end, it didn't much matter; she didn't think he could make her current position any worse. So she justified using a few splashes of her precious drinking water to clean and wrap her feet, making sure she could at least put weight on them, wanting to be as prepared as possible to run when Malfoy returned that evening. If he returned.

An image of him, unbidden, rose to the forefront of her mind; pale and sharp and as handsome as ever, the shadow of weariness she'd spotted in his eyes failing to detract from the steely strength he'd always exuded. She had come across him only a handful of times over the years; mostly glimpses from afar. He'd been at Avignon, of course, and she'd seen him battle his fair share of Aurors and Order members; had watched him kill without regret.

But then, hadn't she done the same? Faceless numbers had died by her wand; and others, familiar visages from Hogwarts, had occasion to haunt her dreams. Meeting death, she'd seen no cowardice in Malcolm Baddock; only his face flushed with concentration, as if he'd been playing Quidditch instead of war. Cho Chang, her features slack and unmarred by the bitter scowls she'd displayed in life, appeared almost angelic, the paleness of her beauty enhanced by her black, Death Eater robes. And Goyle... had she imagined that spark of defiance in his normally blear-witted eyes; the sudden flash of hatred that had nothing to do with the war and everything to do with her?

She shook her head and sighed, knowing that it did no good to dwell on the past; telling herself, as she'd done numerous times over the years, that Baddock would have killed her without blinking if she'd hesitated. All of them would have.

The afternoon was long and, despite the threat of more feet nibbling, Ginny felt herself drifting off, stretched out on her hard pallet. It was often best to sleep in fits and bursts, she'd found, so she didn't bother fighting the yawn and her drooping eyelids. She woke later to a rattling at the door, but it was only her evening meal; more slop that she left for the rats.

With no sign of Malfoy, Ginny sat up and settled her back against the wall. "All right," she said loudly, intending to entertain herself as she did every evening.

Percy lifted himself up on his haunches and twitched his nose at her.

"Where was I? Oh, yes. The wedding." She cleared her throat. "Princess Pollyanna stood nervously at the back of the chapel," she began, her voice a reverent church-like pitch. "Over six hundred guests awaited the nuptials of the beloved Duke and the Princess, and when she started her glide down the aisle, a hush fell over the crowd. The Duke, his self-satisfied stance crowned with a smug grin, was counting his good luck at landing a Princess bride. The Princess, while she thought the Duke quite handsome and debonair, if a bit stuck-up, was more or less resigned to her fate. After all, a Princess was really marrying down when she aligned herself with a mere Duke."

The rats crept closer to her, the injured Snape limping cautiously to the food dish while the other three seemed mesmerized by Ginny's voice. She was a rather good orator.

"The Duke clasped her hand between his surprisingly sweaty ones, and together they turned towards the tall, gangly, impossibly young priest. In fact, he seemed a bit familiar to Polly, but she couldn't quite put her finger on exactly why. Just then, a commotion broke out at the back of the church and the wide double doors burst open, several disreputable men spilling down the velvet lined aisle.

"A great cry went up from the guests, and men and women alike jumped from their seats, panic stricken. They were being attacked! The Duke took firm hold of Polly, dragging her around the pulpit and towards the side door, but the click of a hammer caused him to pause. Slowly, they turned to find the young priest, not quite so priestly anymore, leveling a gun at the Duke's heart.

"'Now, see here!' cried the Duke, his voice at once pompous and commanding.

"'Me fine sir,' the young man said, almost apologetically. 'I'm afraid I'll have te be takin' the young miss from ye...'

"Polly gasped in fear and pressed herself closer to the Duke's side.

"'Come now,' came another, deeper voice from behind them.

"The Duke spun around to face this new threat, taking Polly with him. She gasped again. It was the handsome stranger from the dock!

"'Come now,' the stranger said again, his lips curved in a malicious sneer. 'Hand her over, Milord Nasty Pants'--"

"Milord Nasty Pants?"

Ginny's head snapped up. She'd been so intently focused on her story she hadn't even heard Malfoy enter the cell. "The rats like it," she said defensively.

"They like a story," he said slowly, clearly amused, "about a Duke named Milord Nasty Pants?"

"His name," she said, "is not Milord Nasty Pants. That's simply what the brigand called him. It was an insult."

He cocked a brow. "Was it?"

"Yes, and..." she stopped, glaring over at him. "Shouldn't we be heading out instead of arguing about a stupid story? That is, if you're still planning on helping me escape."

"Here," he said in response, tossing her a dark bundle. "Put that on."

Ginny pulled herself to her feet and wrapped the velvety black cloak around her, sighing at the soft feel of the blessedly clean cloth.

"Make sure to keep your head covered," he said, tugging the hood low on her face. "That hair is a glaring Weasley banner."

"Did you get me my wand?" she asked, curling her fingers around the edges of the cloak. Merlin, it felt good to be warm again.

Draco cracked open the door and peered out into the hallway. "No," he said, glancing back over his shoulder at her.

"Great, Malfoy. How do you expect me to get past the security trolls without my wand?"

"Come on," he said, beckoning her over to the door. "We've got to... wait, what?"

She walked over to him and tapped him testily on the arm. "I'd need to cast some sort of cloaking spell to get past the trolls, dumb arse. Unless you'd like to change the plan?"

"I can't believe this." Running a hand through his hair, he glanced down at her, watching equal parts fear, anxiousness, and anger pass across her features. There was absolutely no way he could sneak out without the New Ministry at least suspecting that he had a hand in the little Weasley's escape. At the thought, he almost felt a smile pull at his lips - Dumbledore wanted her out, and he wouldn't be able to complain one wit about Draco's methods. Despite the very real probability of being hunted down and destroyed for his betrayal, it would be mostly a relief to have his stint as a Death Eater-slash-Order spy over and done with. He schooled his mouth into a disapproving frown. "Fine. I'll lead you out to the Weasel. Now, we need to sneak around the west side of this floor, and head down the south stair--" Draco broke off at her vigorous head shake. "What now?"

"Have you even thought this through?" she chided.

"Well, maybe if somebody hadn't decided to use her magic to contact a fugitive of the New Ministry last night, I'd have had more time to plan," he bit out.

"But you can't mean to go out the southeast gate, Malfoy. That's the main gate. It'll be teeming with Death Eaters. Now, when I got Mum and Dad out, we slipped out the northeast gate--"

"And that turned out so well, didn't it?" Draco cracked.

"They got out, didn't they?" she huffed. "Let's just go down the west staircase; we'd be passing right by it anyway, and at this hour the western entrance will probably be as empty as the north gate. Once we're past the trolls, it's only a matter of staying to the shadows and getting over the parameter wall."

"How the hell do you know so much about the compound, Weasley?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, which she feared was lost to Malfoy in the dimness of the cell. "I broke out my parents, Malfoy. Did you think I just snuck in here without a plan?"

There was a long pause. Finally, Draco said, "Yes, actually."

Ginny snorted. "Come on, let's go," she said, pushing Malfoy out the door. They were losing precious seconds.

The two of them started down the corridor, clinging close to the shadows. Ginny hung back behind Malfoy, using his bulk as a shield in case anyone happened by. "Imagine," Ginny murmured as they rushed down the eerily empty hallway, "a Malfoy skulking fearfully around a Death Eater compound."

Draco shot her a disgruntled look over his shoulder, and hissed, "Shut it, Weasley."

Their footfalls echoed dangerously along the corridor, and Ginny thanked Merlin that no one seemed to be around to hear them. It wasn't exactly odd that security was lax in the Death Eater compound - the New Ministry had become somewhat complacent with the apparent lack of Order activity in the past few years - but, really, that there was no one roaming the hallway at all was exceedingly strange. "What, exactly, did you say to clear out this corridor?" Ginny asked, clutching the back of his robes.

"You don't want to know," he whispered, leading her down the curving west staircase. "Now, stop chattering or I'll magick your mouth shut."

Ginny clamped her lips together and scowled at the back of his head.

When they reached the bottom, Draco pulled her into the shadows underneath the stairwell. "All right," he breathed. "My wand is under wards. I can't perform a cloaking spell from inside; the magic used is too easily detectable. I'm going to have to go through the checkpoint first."

"But," Ginny started, surprised, "they might think you helped me escape."

"Yes, but if I'd slipped through without taking the tracking charms off," he explained quickly, his voice hushed, "they'd know right away that I was unauthorized to leave the compound and be able to hone in on our position."

He started moving forward again, but Ginny stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Malfoy," she said seriously, her eyes narrowed. She didn't care to think of Malfoy sacrificing himself for her.

"Weasley," Draco countered irritably, reading her hesitation. "All that matters right now is getting you out." And when she was out, he fully intended to Apparate to Puerto Vallarta, or someplace equally steamy and exotic, and live out the rest of his days sipping coconut juice on a gleaming white sand beach. He grabbed her arm and hauled her forward, urging her down the last corridor before the security checkpoint.

As they approached the trolls, he whispered, "Stay here."

Ginny nodded warily and flattened herself behind a pillar, giving a sigh of relief at the lack of Death Eaters leaving and entering the west gate; Malfoy sped through security without any trouble. She watched him surreptitiously point his wand in her direction under the cover of his robes' wide sleeve, his lips barely moving as he cast an invisibility spell, and Ginny felt a slightly uncomfortable tingle covering every inch of her skin.

He hadn't wanted to risk using strong magic, and the spell Draco had cast wore off soon after the little Weasley reached his side. He slipped an arm around her waist, judging from her harsh breathing that she was winded from her sprint past the trolls, and guided her soundlessly behind the stairwell near the western entrance.

When she'd caught her breath, she nodded to Malfoy and he pulled her hood further down over her face. Holding onto her upper arm, he set a slow pace as they moved through the large, arched entranceway and out of the building. Once they reached the empty courtyard, he broke into a run, swiftly leading her across the yard to the ten-foot parameter wall, staying low to the ground so their shadows were hardly noticeable in the glow of the low-hanging harvest moon.

"Malfoy," Ginny whispered, staring up at the impossibly tall stone barrier, its shadow covering them in darkness. "I don't think I can do this."

"You've done it before, Weasley. I've seen you," he said, scanning the uneven stone for the best hand and foot holds.

"It was you," she accused weakly.

"Me, what? Weasley, get a move on, we've probably only got about five more minutes before the parameter guards round this sector." He reached up and grabbed hold of the wall, pulling himself up a few feet.

Ginny shook her head. "Malfoy, I can't."

Annoyed, he glanced down at her. "Weasley," he growled impatiently.

"I'm not trying to be contrary, Malfoy," she said, tiredness threading her voice. "I just... can't."

Draco heaved a sigh and dropped back down to the ground. "All right," he said, resigned.

"Can we risk a levitation spell?"

"We could; if we're spotted. Right now, though, I'd rather keep the magic to a minimum." He eyed her up and down. "How much do you weigh?"

"What?"

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. You look like a skeleton with hair right about now."

Ginny clenched her jaw. "You better have a point, Malfoy," she said through her teeth.

He turned his back to her. "Hop on."

"Hop on?" she asked, incredulous. "As in, hop on your back?"

"Or I could just throw you over," he said, spinning back around and reaching for her waist. "In fact, that sounds infinitely better to me."

Ginny batted his hands away. "Not to me. Turn around, Malfoy."

With a small smirk, Draco faced the wall again.

Ginny placed her hands on his upper arms and pulled herself up onto his back, wrapping her legs around his waist. Malfoy reached back and held onto her thighs, making sure she didn't slip off, which, even after locking her arms about his shoulders, she was dangerously close to doing. Her leg muscles quivered from the effort and she clenched her teeth. "Hurry up, Malfoy," she hissed.

"I'm going to have to let go to climb the wall," he explained hastily. "Try not to choke me, alright?"

She grunted in reply.

Draco only had to climb a few feet before he could use the flat top of the stone wall for leverage. Still, it was tough going with her clinging to his back like a monkey, and his fingers felt as if they'd been scraped raw by the time he heaved himself up to the top. "Okay, Weasley," he breathed, sprawled out on his stomach. "Get off me."

She unlocked her arms and scrambling into a sitting position on his bum, elbowing him in the middle of the back in the process. "Sorry," she muttered, then crawled backwards down his legs until she reached cold stone.

He swung his legs around to hang off the edge and scowled at her, rubbing his back gingerly.

"I said I was sorry," she whispered emphatically, hugging the flat surface and trying her best to blend in with the rough rocks.

He shook his head and pushed off from the wall, landing in a crouching position in the thick brush. Straightening, he glanced up at her and lifted his arms. "Jump."

"Are you going to catch me?" she asked nervously.

Draco let out a low growl of frustration. "Do you think I'd tell you to jump if I wasn't going to catch you?"

There was a short pause. "Yes."

"My arms are going to be out for another five seconds, Weasley. If you don't jump now, I'm going to make you find your own way down."

Ginny took a deep breath, and then slipped off the wall. It wasn't a long drop, thankfully, and Malfoy caught her tight around the waist and thighs. He set her carefully on her sore feet and she clutched his arm for balance. "Thanks," she said, giving him a small smile.

He nodded curtly. "Weasel's to the south," he said, gesturing to her right.

Ginny turned and gazed into the forest, then glanced back at Malfoy. "Aren't you coming with me?"

He sighed. "Crabbe's the only one watching the south sector tonight," he lifted a brow, "which was why I had wanted to originally go over that wall. As it is, I'm going to double back and keep an eye on Bole and Bulstrode. Just stay quiet and go straight south, Weasley. You remember the whistle, right?"

Ginny bit her lip and nodded.

Draco noticed her trembling mouth and cursed. "Don't go soft on me now, Weasley. You'll be fine." He took hold of her arms and turned her to face south, then gave her a little push.

She stumbled forward a scant step and looked over her shoulder at him.

"Puppy eyes don't work on a Malfoy," he said, frowning down at her, not the least bit moved.

Ginny's jaw tightened. She knew, from several years of perfecting the look in her mirror, that her irises were just the right shade of golden retriever brown, and that if she bit her lip just hard enough, they'd glisten with just the right amount of unshed tears. Her puppy eyes worked on everyone.

Thinking that the dim light mustn't be showcasing her wide-set eyes properly, she went for the trembling lip bit again, lowering her eyelids and glancing up at him through her lashes. It wasn't that she particularly wanted Malfoy to hang around. She simply didn't relish the thought of running through the woods alone at night. At least, not when those woods bordered a Death Eater compound; especially when she didn't have her wand.

He crossed his arms over his chest and arched a questioning brow.

"Please?" she asked softly, fluttering her lashes so that a single tear spilled from the corner of an eye. "It's so dark."

Draco chuckled wryly, glancing around the moonlit hollow. "You're something else, Weasley. You do realize we haven't had to use wand light out here at all, don't you?"

Ginny barely refrained from stamping her foot. Malfoy, annoyingly true to form, wasn't falling for her tricks at all. Probably, she thought derisively, because the pretty git has pulled them all himself. "Fine," she snapped. "But if I get mauled by a deranged goat it'll be on your head."

"Deranged goat?"

Ginny sniffed. "I don't particularly like goats."

"Duly noted," he said dryly. "Now, will you please move along before the guards stumble across us?"

Adrenaline, fueled by anger, bolstered her into a second wind. She scowled at him, spun on her heel, and then stalked off into the trees.

Malfoy was right. Despite the tall, dark forest trees, the full autumn moon cast an almost golden glow on the night and, her exhaustion aside, she didn't have any trouble picking her way slowly through the brush. That didn't mean she was exactly happy about it.

When she reached what she approximated was the southern area of the compound, she let out the low, three-note whistle Malfoy had taught her. She hadn't expected Ron to bound out of the woods and enfold her in a bear hug, of course, but she at least expected some sort of response. She got nothing. Worriedly, she scanned the darkness, searching for any sign of him. She whistled again, her notes a bit shaky. "Ron?" she whispered as she made her way deeper into the forest and farther away from the compound. "Ron, are you there?"

The impatient chirrup of crickets, along with the crunching leaves under her feet, were the only sounds breaking the silence.

A twig cracked behind her and she whirled around. "Ron?" She took a tentative step towards the sound, but an arm snaked around her waist and a hand covered her mouth, muffling her startled squeak.

"Quiet, Weasley."

Ginny was just about to stomp on Malfoy's foot and bite down hard on his palm when the brush in front of them rustled again. She held her breath, stood perfectly still, and watched as a heavy-footed Death Eater made his way past, nearly within fifteen feet of them. Malfoy didn't release her until the Death Eater was out of sight, and even then Ginny stood fixed to the spot, contemplating how close she'd come to being recaptured.

"Damn it, Weasley. I told you to whistle, not bloody shout his name!" he whispered furiously.

"He wasn't answering." She turned around and looked up at him, seizing hold of the front of his dark robes. "You don't think something's happened to him, do you?"

Draco grimaced. "Merlin, I hope not."

Ginny's eyes widened. "You're worried about Ron?"

"No," he glowered. "But it would mean that I would have to Apparate back to the Order with you."

She frowned at him, a skeptical gleam in her eyes. "You know where the Order Headquarters is located?"

"I am a spy," he said.

Cocking her head to the side, she asked, "How come I've never seen you there, then?"

"Can we discuss this later, Weasley? Maybe when we're not surrounded by the enemy?" He took hold of her arm and steered her back towards the forest. "Let's just find your brother so I can leave."

Another rustle and a few grumbling voices came towards them and Malfoy froze. Ginny bumped up against his side and clutched at his hand blindly. There were more of them, by the sound of it, and they were spreading out further into the surrounding forest; they must have discovered she was missing.

"On second thought, let's get out of here while we still can," Draco hissed in her ear. "I have no desire to go through all this trouble, just to have you thrown back into that cell."

"What about Ron?"

"Weasel's a big boy, he can take care of himself. Come on," he said, pulling her close and cradling her back against his chest.

The air crackled around them as they disappeared.