False Hope is Better Than No Hope at All

In her third year at Hogwarts, Ginny had decided to take Divination.

"How can you stand it?" Hermione would always ask her as they did their homework together in the Gryffindor common room at night. "All divination is glorified storytelling. Honestly, I'm surprised Professor Dumbledore even allows it as a subject."

Despite Hermione's scoffs, Ginny actually found herself liking Divination - that is, once she got over the shock as having Professor Trelwany constantly predict her horrible demise. She supposed she should have been prepared for it, considering all the times she had heard about Harry's predictions from Ron, but there was really nothing one could do to brace themselves for the news that they would soon be meeting a horrible and fiery death. Though the impact of these `predictions' had faded over the passing lessons, the memory of her first class with Professor Trelwany stood out vividly in her mind.

"One does not need to employ the Inner Eye to perceive the aura of danger around you, my child," Trelwany had said as she flitted around Ginny. "You are a Weasley, are you not? A dangerous family to be a part of, dear...why, from the moment I saw Bill in the halls on his first day at Hogwarts, I knew he and his family would be strongly involved in the fight against dark magic." She then snatched up Ginny's hand, and traced the lines in her palm gently with her long fingernails. "Your life line...it is very short," she announced to the class. "Not the shortest I've even seen, mind you - one of my fourth-year students has that honor - but I would not be surprised at all if you were to die very, very young." With that she dropped Ginny's hand and glided to the front of the classroom to announce that evening's homework to the stunned class.

Ron had laughed it off when she told him about it that night at dinner, so Ginny decided to ignore it as well. However, for the next ten years, whenever she had found herself in even the tiniest amount of danger, she found her mind flicking back to that first Divination class. When she fell off her broom while playing Quidditch, that time she had nearly been run over a bus while walking through Muggle London - all these experiences brought her mind back to Professor Trelawney's prediction.

Now, as she lay face-down on the floor of Malfoy Manor, Draco's body over hers and the sounds of war crashing around her, all she could hear was Trelawny's voice in her head. "Die very, very, young...die very, very young..."

Ginny felt anger rise within her as, unbidden, her subconscious repeated these words in her ear. You were wrong, Trelawny! Ginny screamed in her mind, trying to drive away the memory of the words. I survived! Out of all of my siblings, I was the only one who didn't die young, and I'm going to keep it that way, stupid war or not!!

With a cry, Ginny turned and flung Draco off her back. The major damage had passed; while bits of debris still floated around the hall, there was no longer any danger of any two-ton blocks of stone being flung their way. Screams of panic were still coming from the ballroom, however.

"What in god's name is going on?" yelled Ginny, managing to get shakily to her feet before collapsing onto the floor again. She held her head in her hands and tried to blink the dust out of her eyes. Next to her, Draco gave a low moan and rolled over onto his back, his robes ripped and certainly not worth more than two knuts now, previously owned by Grindewalde or not. Looking at his robes, Ginny realized that hers must have been in about the same state and felt half her anger morph into disappointment, even though she knew it was a trivial thing to worry about. Preparing herself for the worst, she glanced down and looked at her robes. Her jaw dropped open at what she saw. No rips. No dust. They looked just a new as they had when she pulled them off the rack in Madam Malkin's that morning. Confused, the started examining the sleeves and twisted her head to see if there was any damage on the back that she might have missed.

"What's going on?" she muttered again, this time in disbelief. She looked over at Draco and saw that he had managed to pull himself up into a sitting position as well. Despite his torn robes, he looked just as well as she did - no cuts, no bruises, nothing.

Ginny followed his eyes and looked down at the carpet immediately beneath. It was red. All down the hallway, the floor was blanketed in dust, pieces of furniture, ruined portraits which had been hanging on the wall, and various-sized pieces of stone which had once been part of the ceiling or walls. The spot where she and Draco were sitting, however, was clean.

In fact, they were sitting in the middle of a perfect semi-circle, which emerged from the wall which they were lying against and encircled their bodies, as if someone had put up a protective dome around them. Even the table they had dived behind had been untouched, save some sprinkling of dust along the top.

"Are all your family's parties like this, Malfoy, or are you just going all out for this on?" Ginny asked sarcastically, but her voice was shaking. Draco didn't seem to notice; he seemed to be entranced by his surroundings. His grey eyes scanned the area, drinking in everything. Suddenly, he snapped back and refocused his attention on Ginny.

He got to his feet with the grace of a panther, brushed off his robes, and held out his hand wordlessly to her. Pulling out his wand, he asked curtly, his cool, dry grasp already releasing hers, "Do you still have yours?" She nodded, a bit miffed that he had withdrew his hand so swiftly. What if she was still dizzy and had fallen over? Oh well, what did she expect from a Malfoy, anyway?

"We should be able to clear a path from here to there," he said ordered swiftly, indicating the spot where they stood and the ballroom doors in the distance, "with a few well-placed banishing charms. Just pile the debris on the side of the hallway. Hurry up!" he barked exclaimed impatiently as he saw her hesitant expression. He flicked his wand and a large block of stone went crashing out a nearby window. "We need to get to the ballroom, and quickly."

Ginny felt like snapping at him for daring to order her around as if she was one of his servants, but instead she picked up her wand and concentrated on moving what was once a very ornate suit of armor to the side of the hallway. She was useless at charms if her mind wasn't all there, and at that moment it was trying to wander very, very far away.

"Not that way!" he snapped at her again. He upheld his cool disposition, but he could feel his heart pounding heavily as the shouts from the ballroom grew louder. What if something had happened to his mother? "Banish the stuff on the bottom, not the top - that way everything will just fly off." Then, just to irk her, he executed a perfect charm that brought them five feet further down the hall.

Ginny gave a cry of frustration and slammed her wand down by her side, where it made a small sputtering noise before a tiny beetle emerged from thin air and fell to the ground. "I can't do this. I can't concentrate! Unlike you, Draco, who probably got used to attacks being made on your home weekly before you were eight, I do not come to a party, even one of the Malfoy's, expecting attempts to be made on my life! Not to mention that there is something else very, very, odd going on, and it's really freaking me out!" She indicated the perfect state of her robes.

Then he did something strange. All through her outburst he had seemingly ignored her, continuing with his wand-swishing and piling debris up along the walls of the hallway. At her last statement, however, he paused and looked at her. She matched his stare furiously. His eyes were as cold, gray, and expressionless as the northern seas. Her anger faded slowly into apprehension. What was wrong? Why was he staring at her like that?

"What did you do today?" he demanded suddenly. His voice cracked through the air like a whip, and she jumped slightly.

"Me?" she repeated. She blinked, her mouth falling open as the full impact of his words hit her. "Are you serious? You think this has something to do with me?!" Ginny exclaimed incredously. "I came here to get my damn interview, Draco, not to sabotage your house, and I didn't even get that!"

He rolled his eyes and waved his wand again, flinging what was once an antique table up against the wall with particular force, as if he regretted taking important time out of his duty to talk to her. "Well, Miss Virginia, did you ever stop and consider the possibility that perhaps someone else cast some sort of spell on you that helped trigger this?"

Slowly, understanding began to creep into Ginny's mind. "What exactly are you trying to say?" she asked Draco, who was flinging his banishing charms with such force that the objects were ricocheting off the walls and merely falling back into place again.

"What I am saying," he said through gritted teeth, "is that this is obviously Potter's doing. Goddamned Potter, who just can't accept that for once in his perfect life, there's one battle he'll never win. So he somehow gets in here and sets off an explosion. But not before he's made sure you'll be okay, though. Of course, he'll remember you. But does he care at all about the other three hundred or so people in this house? My family, my friends? Of course not. He's a damned hypocrite - look at all the times he ranted throughout school about Death Eater attacks on innocent people, and now he's doing exactly the same thing!" Draco sent the last block of stone hurling out one of the hallway's windows and ran towards the ballroom doors.

Ginny was two seconds away from expressing her indignation over the thought that the "New Ministry" supporters in the ballroom were innocent before she remember she was supposed to be an Indifferent and bit her tongue. Innocents, indeed! They were the one who had started the attacks in the first place, and they didn't discriminate - muggles, muggle-borns, purebloods, everyone! But this is his family, the utterly annoying other half of her brain chimed in. Of course he'd be looking at Harry as the bad guy.

Ginny shook herself from her stupor and began quickly tracing her way through the remaining piles of rubble to the ballroom doors, which Draco had already traced his way through. All those years in Bulgaria had definitely brought out some different aspects of Draco, once that Ginny wasn't altogether sure she liked. They made him seem too...human.

***

"Let me go! Let go of me!!"

Draco sighed, not bothering to turn around. He knew that voice. This would only lead to one thing...

Two mediwizards came flying through the air and landed on the floor next to where Draco and Narcissa were sitting on the floor. "Draco," his mother said shakily, trying to get up. "Can you help me out of here, please? I've had quite enough of large, heavy objects being flung towards me for one evening."

Draco muttered a last spell that would cover up the gash on her forehead. "No, mother, you stay here," he said, gently pushing her back on the ground. "I'll take care of this. Millicent!" he finished in a yell, looking over his shoulder as he pushed himself off the floor. In the center of the room, a bloody and dust-covered Millicent Bulstrode was holding off any mediwizard who would dare approach her with her wand.

"Millicent..." he began calmly. "You look like you were hit hard. Let the mediwizards check you out."

"The hell I will! This is the story of a lifetime! Rita Skeeter'll have nothing on me! Just let me do my job!" At that moment a loud bang was heard, and Millicent's wand flew into the hand of one of the many house elves that were scurrying around.

"Miss will not be wanting to get hurt!" it squeaked as three mediwizards rushed towards her. Draco sighed and moved onto another part of the ballroom.

It certainly looked better now than it did when he had burst in there an hour earlier, but it was still a far cry from its colorful splendor of simply a few hours ago. The beautiful decorations that Narcissa and the charmers had worked so hard over either littered the floor in pieces of hung in lifeless tatters from the walls. Though most of the debris had been removed from the area, the floor was still covered in a thick layer of dust, turning the perfectly polished black marble floor into a sickening shade of pasty grey.

Those who had been seriously injured had been transported immediately to St. Mungo's Hospital, but those with less grievous injures were lying scattered around the ballroom while they awaited mediwizard attention. Far off near one of the over-turned tables, Draco caught a glimpse of what he had been looking for - Ginny. Huddled on the floor next to yet another injured partygoer, her robes were now covered in dust and her hair was disheveled; oddly, however, Draco found himself thinking that she looked quite fetching. He didn't ponder it, however, and with a quick mental shrug he made his way over to her.

She seemed to sense him approaching even though he gave away no sign of his presence, and he saw her shoulders stiffen. She was hunched over a middle-aged man in crisp black and white robes - the photographer. Draco almost laughed out loud. Only Ginny would rush to the side of a common photographer to mend his broken arm the cream of pureblood society lay dying around her.

"...just to keep it flat until the mediwizards get around to you," he caught her say softly. She still had her back to him. "It looks to be broken in about three places, but it shouldn't take them very long to mend it." The man murmured his thanks, and she Ginny finally turned around to face Draco.

"Did you find your parents?" she asked smoothly. They had split up the moment they entered the ballroom.

"Yes, I did," he answered. A moment went by and she didn't respond. "They're both fine," he offered up. "Mother was a bit shaken up with a few cuts, but she had been standing to the back of the room so she wasn't hit hard. Father wasn't as lucky - "

"...but he cleared out of here as soon as he could in order to conference with some of the ministry officials," Ginny finished for him. Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Well, I'm glad you found them okay."

Inspiration struck, and Draco reached down and offered Ginny his hand. He saw a faint flicker of surprise cross her face, but when it gave way to a wide smile Draco knew he had just scored a big point. He added "Seduce Her Shamelessly With Pansy-Assed Acts of Chivalry" to his mental checklist.

"Do you know what caused the explosion yet?" Ginny asked, dropping her voice slightly. She tried to sound nonchalant about it, but Draco could see that her eyes were filled with anxiety.

"Not yet," said Draco. "Something odd. But we should know exactly what it was before long."

"So basically, you have no clue what happened," she discerned. The disappointment in her voice was obvious.

"We'll find out," he said confidently. He paused. Ginny was starting at him, a look intent etched on her face. "What is it?" he asked, thrown off track.

"Draco, I - " she stopped, and glanced around. "I think the mediwizards pretty much have everything under control. Do you think we could go somewhere to talk, you know, somewhere a little more private?" Several reporters were milling around, and she eyed them meaningfully.

Draco mentally checked his list. Yup, there it was, right under "Submit to her Every Whim, No Matter How Stupid and Pointless it May Seem."

"There's a room just down the hall from here that we can use. It's just a spare room, no one will be hanging around it," he hastily added, seeing the look of doubt on her face.

"Fine," she finally consented. "Let's go."

***

Ginny followed Draco silently as he led her through the maze-like hallways of his home.

She kept running through what she would say to him in her mind, but instead of forming themselves into coherent and logical statements, her thoughts were ricocheting off each other and bouncing all over her skull.

"Here." His voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts, and she snapped back to reality. "We can talk in here. I'm sure my father will send some ministry officials searching for us, but it should take them awhile for them to get to us. This room isn't the most accessible in the manor."

Her mouth was set in a thin, straight line, and she raised an eyebrow in mock surprise at his words. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Don't try and be smart, Ginny," he retorted as he opened the door. He led her into the room, which was filled with piles of boxes, and, in the corner, two dusty but expensive looking chairs. "You dragged me down here to `talk' to about something urgent and now we're here, and you haven't said anything substantial yet."

Ginny tried in vain to brush the dust off the thick velvet cushion of one of the chairs while Draco lit a small candle set in the wall. "I just have to think for a minute, for goddsakes."

"That's fine. Take as much time as you want. It's not like, say, someone just attempted to commit mass murder in my house."

Ginny gave a cry of frustration, and felt her level of irritation rise steeply as she caught him grinning. Quickly, he pulled the other chair in front of hers and plonked himself down. "This is it!" Ginny snapped at him. "This is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about!"

He raised an eyebrow, a quizzical expression appearing on his face. In the darkened room, Ginny thought he looked just like a villain in a cheap romance novel.

"Oh?" he asked. "What, exactly, is THIS?"

"YOU!" cried Ginny, exasperated. "One minute you're moody, the next you're joking... your mood swings rival the ones my cousin Rebekkah had while she was pregnant, and trust me, that is not an easy feat."

"I'm still not sure what you're getting at. Did you call me down here to liken me to pregnant relations of yours?"

Ginny sighed. She supposed she'd just have to come straight out and say it.

"I keep getting mixed signals from you," she said explained. "One minute I feel as if you hate me, the next as if we're in the midst of a passionate, if not strange, courtship. What exactly are your feelings for me, Draco?" she asked him. As the words left her lips, she felt her heart start to beat faster, slowly at first, then faster and faster until she felt as if her ears were vibrating from the force of it. At that moment she felt like kicking herself, embarrassed at actually caring what Draco Malfoy's opinion of her was.

Draco's expression didn't change, but he leaned forward in his chair. "Well," Draco said finally, his eyes staring deep into Ginny's until she felt as if she were about to drown in waves of silver. "That, indeed, is a question which needs an immediate answer..." His voice trailed off, and he smiled at her.

Ginny gave an irritated sigh and glared at him, but she couldn't help smiling a little. "You're deliberately trying to irk me, aren't you?" she said. His smile broadened into a grin.

"Only half the time, dear Virginia," he answered, still smiling. "The rest of the time, I do it without trying."

"Just answer the question, Draco."

"Fine," he said, growing serious and straightening up in his chair. Ginny's heart started racing again. "The truth is that I'm attracted to you, Ginny, plain and simple. I'm not going to say that I fell in love with you at first sight that day in the bookstore all those years ago, I'm not going to say that I fell for you watching you during all those Quidditch matches, and I'm certainly not going to say that I pined for you during the time I was in Bulgaria and that it was `the memory of your sweet face that kept me going the whole time.' Because, Miss Weasley, however fanciful and romantic those things may sound, they aren't the truth."

He paused to take a breath, and Ginny had to do the same. What he said hadn't been particularly affectionate, loving, or even nice, but she had still been entranced by his every word. And the worst part was, she didn't even know why.

"So, Ginny," he said, sliding his chair closer to hers. Gently, he took her hands in his and slowly began running his thumbs over her fingers. He looked straight into her eyes, not blinking. "I've answered your question. Now I have one to ask you - what do you think of my answer?"

Ginny gnawed her lip slightly, a habit she had which always resurfaced when she was thinking hard. She saw his gaze drop from her eyes to her lips, and stopped abruptly. "I guess, " she said after a minute, smiling slightly, "that we could work something out."

Draco didn't react to her words. Still staring at her mouth, he slid forward in his chair and pulled her towards him so that their knees bumped together. Ginny shivered under the intensity of is gaze. His grey eyes had locked onto her face, and didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon.

"Work something out, hmm?" Draco murmured. Without warning, he quickly leant forwards and gently kissed her in the tiny hollow just below her ear.

Ginny felt herself shiver, and she closed her eyes. Her mind was sending out faint warning signals, telling her something wasn't quite right with this scene, but somehow she didn't care. When Ginny opened her eyes again, she just caught a glimpse of Draco's eyes looking deep into hers before the candle in the corner flickered and went out.

As soon as the light died, Ginny felt Draco stand up and roughly pull her with him to her feet. His arms engulfed her, and in an instant she felt his mouth upon hers.

He kissed her endlessly, his mouth moving against hers meltingly slow. Her arms slid around him, and her fingers traced over his back.

Suddenly, he released her. "Maybe we should continue this another time," he said, panting slightly. She opened her eyes again, realizing she hadn't consciously closed them, and tried to make out his face in the darkened room.

"I guess you're right," she said after awhile, almost reluctantly. "I should go home and rest, since I'm sure I'll have to hunt your father down for that interview tomorrow, and I'm sure you have a lot on your hands right now..."

She could just make out his nod. "I'll walk you to the door," Draco said, gently taking her hand and leading her out of the room, smiling all the way.

********

Eleanor and Stephen were twenty feet away from the Malfoy Mansion when the explosion went off. "There," Stephen said to her as they watched dust and debris fly up into the air. "It's done. Come on, let's get back to headquarters before the mediwizards arrive."

Stephen started to back away from the scene, but Eleanor hesitated. "Do you think she's okay?"

"Of course she is!" Stephen snapped irritably. They had been waiting outside the Malfoy Mansion for hours, hidden in the extensive shrubbery just inside the wrought iron gates, waiting to confirm that the mission had gone off without a hitch. "Hermione worked on charming those robes for weeks, don't you trust her work?"

"Of course I do," Eleanor said, still reluctant to leave the scene even though her legs were painfully cramped after spending all that time crouched under Harry's old invisibility cloak with Stephen. "It's just that things can always go wrong, especially since practically all the spells we're using are still in the experimental stage, and, oh..."

"Eleanor, we have to go," Stephen urged anxiously. "Hermione charmed those robes thoroughly so that not only would they protect Ginny, but they'd make sure the explosion wouldn't be triggered until she got a certain distance from the ballroom. Now, unless she went to another room in the mansion, took off her robes, then returned to the party stark naked, I'm sure she's just peachy. Now, let's leave."

Meanwhile, the New Ministry's elite team of mediwizards had arrived. A swarm of house elves ran out to open the manor's front gates just at their brooms landed. Between the dust flying through the air, the cries of the injured from the collapsed section of the manor, and the terrified squeals of the house elves, there was considerable amount of distraction that allowed them to slip out the gates of Malfoy Manor unnoticed.

As soon as they exited the Apparition Restrictive zone around the manor, the pair disappeared and reappeared almost instantaneously in Hyde Park in muggle London. Eleanor gave a sigh as she felt her feet reach the ground. "Done," she sighed with a relief. "What a night. I don't know why I volunteer for these missions."

"It's because you'll jump at any excuse to spend time with me," Stephen joked, stuffing the invisibility cloak into the small backpack he carried.

Eleanor rolled her eyes and was about to retort when two shadowy figures stepped up to them. "Guys," Parvati hissed, causing them to jump. "Sorry," she laughed. "It's just me. Charlie was here before, but he went back to wake the others once we saw you apparate. What took you so long? I've been hanging around here forever."

"Oh, stop your whining, Parvati," Stephen said. "At least you weren't the ones who had to spend the whole night squished under an invisibility cloak behind some prickly bushes."

Parvati rolled her eyes. "Oh, be a man, Stephen. You're the one who always brags about his narrow escapes from the New Ministry goons - don't tell me you can't take a few beatings from the Malfoy's prickly landscape."

"Oh, shut up you guys," Eleanor said. "You can bicker all you want when we get back to headquarters. Parvati, where's the portkey?"

Parvati tilted her head to the right. "It's the old newspaper under that bench over there. Charlie and I set it up hours ago."

"Good. Let's go," said Eleanor, snatching the backpack from Stephen and stalking off before either of them could come up with any other insults to throw at each other. Within seconds, they had arrived at the house that served as a cover to the entrance to the headquarters of The Resistance. There was a minor scuffle when Parvati accused Stephen of deliberately stepping on the backs of her shoes, but otherwise they made it down into The Resistance quickly.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the other members had been awakened by Charlie and were already waiting for them when they arrived. "Where were you?" Charlie asked as the three staggered in. The rest of The Resistance greeted them with yawns or sleepy nods. "I must have left you twenty minutes ago."

"Sorry," Eleanor apologized. "You know these two. Why waste time saving the wizarding world from the clutches of evil when you can spend you time calling each other names?"

"Never mind that," said Harry gesturing for them to take their seats. He was the only one who looked as if he had spent the whole night awake. "Tell us what happened."

"Eleanor and I arrived at the manor just as the first guests were arriving," Stephen began. "Under the invisibility cloak, we apparated into the woods outside the Malfoy estate and from there walked up to the front gates. Like Angela said, because of all the guests, the press, and all those other wizards hanging around the gates, security around the gates was considerably less than what it normally is, and we were able to slip through with a batch of reporters when the house elves opened the gates to let a few of them through."

Eleanor continued the summary. "We walked halfway around the house and sat behind some bushes -"

"Prickly bushes," interjected Stephen.

"Some prickly bushes where we had a good view of the ballroom. Once all the guests had arrived, the spectators left and so did the press, a little while later. Then we waited. And waited. And waited for about four and a half hours until the explosion went off."

"Then what?" asked Ron, still looking half asleep in his wrinkled sweatpants and ancient Chudley Cannons t-shirt.

"The mediwizards arrived pretty quickly, and we were out of there as soon as the gates were opened," Stephen said.

"What about my sister?" Charlie asked, looking worried.

"We saw her go in," Eleanor said. "You were right, Parvati, those robes looked fantastic on her - but we didn't see her after that."

"What do you mean? Didn't you wait until you saw the mediwizards escort her out?" Charlie turned angrily to Hermione and Harry. "You told me you would make sure she was taken care of! How could you just leave her there, under that pile of smoking rubble?"

"Charlie, calm down," said Hermione gently. "She is taken care of. We placed a Protection Charm on her before we let her go to the party, a powerful one - without her knowledge, of course. She's fine."

"Can you be sure?" Ron broke in.

"Oh, stop it guys," Laura Madley said through a yawn she couldn't stifle. She ran a hand through her tangled red hair. "Hermione's the smartest witch in the world. She enchanted those robes herself, worked for weeks on them - nothing's happened to Ginny."

"Laura's right, Ron, Charlie," Harry added. "You know we would have never let Ginny go in there unless we were sure she'd be perfectly safe." Assuming the matter was settled, he turned back to Stephen and Eleanor. "What was the extent of the damage?"

"Well, the Malfoy's Manor doesn't look so hot," Stephen broke in. "Half the ballroom's caved and rubble's been strewn all over the property. Not to mention there's about an inch of dust covering everything. But as to the extent of the human loss, we can't really tell."

"People died, that's for sure," Eleanor said. "The only question is who, and how many."

Fred scowled from the other side of the table. "With our luck, I'd bet that bastard Malfoy walked away with just some dust on his robes."

"Turn on the wireless," Angelina suggested. "By now, there have to be some reports floating around."

Neville left the table to fetch the radio while Hermione conjured up mugs of coffee and hot chocolate for everyone. By the time he had lugged it out of the room he shared with Larry Summers, everyone had woken up enough to seat themselves comfortably around the table, anxiously waiting to her the news.

Neville plonked the radio on the table and accepted the mug of coffee Hermione handed him before sitting down. Sarah Fawcett, who was closest to the radio, turned it on with a quick flick of her wand.

"...at the Redemption Ball at Malfoy Manor, roughly an hour ago, just after midnight," an unfamiliar voice announced. Everyone strained to hear the words. A different voice came on the air.

"There was no warning," a slightly-hysterical woman said. "The party was just about to wind down when all of a sudden a huge explosion went off somewhere just outside the ballroom. Half the place caved in and rubble was thrown everywhere."

The announcer came back on. "Minister of Magic Lucius Malfoy, who was not harmed in the attack..." This decree was met by a loud wave of disappointed wailing from the Resistance members. "...had this to say about the attacks on his home." A couple seconds of static ensued, then Lucius Malfoy's familiar voice could be heard clearly through the wireless.

"At this moment, we do not have any hard evidence as to who the perpetrators are," he began, "but this is clearly the work of The Resistance, the same rebel terrorist group that has been fighting all these years to take back the peace we have fought so long and hard for. Myself and the rest of the members of the new Ministry will double our efforts to see that they are brought to justice."

"Smarmy bastard," George growled, severely disappointed that Lucius had survived the attacks.

"Shhh," everyone else shushed him.

"At this point, the exact number of causalities is not known," the announcer continued. "But is has been confirmed that Joseph Lestrange, Head of Finances at the Ministry, and Adrian Pucey, chaser for Puddlemere United and fiancé of Victor Zambini's daughter Blaise, have been killed in the blast. Mrs Lydia Lestrange and Vincent Crabbe, Senior are among dozens of the injured which have been transported to St Mungo's Hospital. We will continue to keep you posted throughout the night as more reports are verified. This is Fiona Hapshaw, reporting in place of Millicent -"

Sarah cut off the transmission. The group sat silent, absorbing what had been said.

"They didn't say anything about Narcissa or Draco," offered Ernie MacMillian.

"Or Padma," supplied Parvati, her face void of any expression.

"Or Ginny," snapped Ron, getting to his feet. "Honestly, Harry, what were you thinking? She's probably lying dead in that creepy mansion right now!"

"Ron," Hermione said in a warning tone, "Don't."

"No Hermione, I will," Ron yelled. "I'm sick of this, Harry, I'm sick of this."

"Sick of what, Ron?" asked Harry, looking genuinely confused.

"Of you constantly trying to pull Ginny over to The Resistance. I know you still keep in contact with her. I know how you've got her picture hidden in your room."

"There's nothing wrong with missing Ginny, Ron," Harry retorted sharply. "She's like a sister to me, too."

"A sister to you? Ha." Ron and Harry were standing practically nose-to-nose now, the rest of The Resistance too stunned to move. "She's my sister Harry, my sister. And I told you I didn't want her to be a part of this any more. Fred, George, Charlie, and me told you after the Last Battle that we didn't want her to have to live this kind of life anymore. That's why we wouldn't let you tell her we were still alive."

"That's why we don't want her down here," butted in Charlie, who had been sitting quietly on a cushion on the floor until this point. "That's why we don't want her going to the Malfoy Manor for New Ministry parties where things explode and people die, no matter how many layers of magical clothing she's wearing!"

"Hey, guys," broke in Fred, "Not saying I don't agree with you here, but I'm sure Ginny is fine. And I'm sure Harry will be glad to promise that Ginny will be left out of all Resistance matters after this, right?" He, George and Charlie each fixed Harry with a fierce glare that dared him to disagree.

"Sure, whatever," said Harry, looking away from the group and shrugging as if he couldn't care less. "I just thought that she would be valuable to the cause, that's all, you know, having a powerful contact on the outside or whatever."

"No Harry," said Ron menacingly, refusing to let the matter die. "I don't think that's it at all. I think you needed Ginny. I think you got used to her hanging around you year after year, showering you wit her unconditional devotion, and now that she doesn't need you anymore, you've lost it. You're trying to get her back to you."

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione cried, standing up from her chair with such force that she knocked it back and sent it sliding across the floor. "Now, that is enough. This is hardly the time or place for your discussion."

Silence ensued. Harry and Ron were still glaring at each other, and the other Resistance members were too stunned to move. Finally, Harry looked away and took a couple steps away from Ron. "Hermione's right," he finally said. "Sorry, guys. I must be overtired. I should be getting some sleep. All of us should." The group murmured quietly in agreement.

"Yeah, we've all had a busy day," said Ron unconvincingly, still looking very red in the face and ready to kill. "Let's go to bed."

Harry turned and stalked out of the room first, slamming the door to his private room shut. Gradually, the other members filed out to their respective rooms. Lisa quickly cleaned up the now empty mugs with a quick wave of her wand before heading off to the small room she shared with Parvati.

"Ron," Hermione said quietly as the others filed out of the room, "You should apologize to Harry. Whatever's going on, he means well. And he really does care about Ginny."

Ron was still fuming. "Sure, I'll apologize," he said. "When he apologizes for endangering my sister for his own personal, twisted reasons!" Then he stormed off to the room he shared with Charlie without even saying goodnight to her.

Hermione sighed. Both boys were so pig-headed; she just hoped they reached an agreement in time so The Resistance wouldn't suffer from it.

She was about the head to bed when she heard the door behind her creak open - the magical entrance to The Resistance headquarters. Startled, Hermione whirled around.

"Hello," the person said. She was wearing a thick, dark pink wool cloak. "I didn't think I would get here so soon." She whipped off her hood and shook back her brown curls.

Hermione gasped in disbelief.

"Pansy?"

********

After seeing Ginny leave early that morning, Draco went straight back to the ballroom to see what the mediwizards had discovered in their clean-up. Upon learning that Adrian Pucey had been among dozens killed, he immediately sought out Blaise. He found her in the East Wing at the other side of the manor, leaning against the banister of the stairway to his bedroom.

"Blaise," he said gently as he approached, "What are you doing here? You should be getting yourself checked out by the mediwizards."

She didn't respond. Her light blue robes were covered in soot, and it was the first time since he was eleven years old that he had seen Blaise with her hair in a mess, but otherwise she seemed perfectly fine. She wasn't crying, but she was clutching an embroidered handkerchief in her right hand as if she just had been. Her brown eyes were bloodshot.

"Blaise?" he ventured again cautiously, and only then did she turn her head towards him.

"Adrian is dead," she stated matter-of-factly, her voice void of emotion.

"I know," he said. "I saw them carry him out. His parents, they're looking for you..."

Blaise snorted and tossed her head. "They don't want me there. They never liked me." Her gaze unfocused, and Draco saw tears begin to flood her eyes. "We were dancing, right there by the fireplace. Whatever it was that caused the explosion must have been in the fireplace, because when it went off I was thrown clear across the room. I was lucky, I guess - I landed right on top of another couple who had been knocked over by the blast, and someone pulled me under one of the tables to shield me from the falling rubble. But Adrian..." She sobbed, and raised her handkerchief up to her eyes.

"Blaise," said Draco hesitantly, feeling awkward as having no idea how to comfort one of his closest friends. "You don't have to talk about it."

Blaise shook her head sadly. "You know, Draco," she said, her voice stronger. She raised her head to look him in the eye. "After we won the Last Battle, I didn't feel much like celebrating. Sure, we won, but I didn't think it would last. After the first year passed, I still felt like we were just in the eye of the storm, that everything we had managed to avoid in the last year would come back and hit us with a vengeance. It wasn't until tonight that I finally began to believe that peace might be attainable. You'd come back home, Adrian and I were getting married..." Her voice took on a hard tone, and even in the darkness of the hall Draco could see the anger plainly etched on her face. "This just goes to show what happens when I let my guard down."

Wordlessly, Draco reached for her hand. She gave it to him without a fuss. Slowly, he led her back to the ballroom.

By six o'clock the next morning, the mediwizards had cleared everyone off the Malfoy property, either treating them on the scene for minor injuries or taking those who had been more seriously hurt off to St. Mungo's. Draco's mother, who had only suffered a few scratches but who was severely shaken up, had been escorted to her own private room in the hospital by several of the Malfoy house-elves. Meanwhile, Draco and his father were cramped into a very small room at the ministry, which also held every other ministry official who hadn't been injured in the attacks.

"How could this happen?" Lucius roared, knocking over a stack of parchment onto an already littered floor. The early-rising sun flooded the room with a soft red glow. "No, shut up Crabbe, I don't want to hear what the probability against this happening was. All I know is that it did happen, and someone is going to pay for it, and pay dearly."

Draco nodded absentmindedly, only half-listening to the others in the room. He had listened to dozens of theories jumbling around in his brain for the past four hours - he didn't have the energy to listen to the theories of the ministry, too.

What about an explosion charm? He thought to himself. No, no, that would work - for an explosion that big they'd need at least forty Firetounges. Those would never fit in the fireplace, expansion spell or not - not to mention that there's no way they'd be able to get in here to do it. Also, the security was slightly lax last night but the wards around the house itself should have been fully functional.

"What do you think, Draco?" his father's voice snapped impatiently.

"I've been going over every theory," Draco said slowly, "And it seems to me that there's no way they could have rigged any explosion to go off in the manor unless they had some kind of contact on the inside. One of the decorators that were milling about all week, or one of the photographers or musicians that were there on the night..."

"Very good, Draco," his father said dryly. "If you were truly paying attention, you would have known that that was the exact theory I was asking you to comment on!"

"Oh," said Draco, not really caring. His mind drifted off as his father went off into another rant. Maybe they simply asked Longbottom to try and perform a simple Cheering Charm over the Floo Network, Draco thought to himself with a laugh. That surely could have caused the explosion. He chuckled, unable to hold it back.

"I'm glad you find my father's death so amusing, Malfoy," Alexander Norfolk said sarcastically, subtly calling Draco back to attention. "But anyway, I shall be glad to step up and fill his position on the Board of Security, if the ministry agrees."

"Thank you, Norfolk," Luicus said, making a note on a piece of parchment in front of him. "Do you already have a pair of the Ministry Security robes, or do you need to be issued a pair?"

Draco didn't hear his answer. Robes, robes...the word triggered off an image in his mind. Ginny, looking gorgeous in her forest green robes...

Draco jumped to his feet. "Robes!" he shouted.

The whole room turned to look at him. "Yes, Draco," said Rosetoria Fay, the Ministry's chief counsel in a condescending tone. "Robes! Now, what's the other thing you must remember before leaving the house for Ministry meetings? Could it be, your brain?"

Draco shot her a withering glare. "I'll have you know, Rosetoria Fay, that my brain is functioning properly. That's what I forgot to mention before - when the explosion went off, I was in the hallway outside the ballroom with Virginia Weasley. We didn't get hit by one bit of debris; in fact, the when the entire hallway was blanketed in dust and broken furniture, everything within a two-foot radius of us was clear. The Resistance must have made sure that Ginny was properly protected before sending her into the Manor. Her robes were probably carrying a strong Protection Charm." He threw a smug look at Rosetoria.

"Oh, kiss my chronicles," she spat angrily.

The room became quiet as each of them members processed the information. Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"Well," he said, smiling slightly for the first time in hours. "This might change things. Draco," he called to his son. "You know what you have to do."

Draco smiled. Indeed, he knew exactly what had to be done.

********

It was nine in the morning before Ginny made it back to her apartment. Upon leaving Draco's house, the mediwizards has caught her and insisted that she be taken to St Mungo's, even though she protested that she didn't have a scratch on her. The hospital was such a complete and utter mess, crawling with victims, their families, and reporters, that it took the mediwizards roughly four hours to verify the truth of Ginny's words and send her home with a clean bill of health.

Ginny sighed and plopped onto her overstuffed blue couch. At this point, there was nothing she wanted more than a long shower and an even longer nap. However, against her better judgment, she pulled out her wand and flicked on the radio.

"So far, thirty-seven of the Malfoy guests have been confirmed dead," the announcer was saying. "Among those thirty-seven are Sergio Gontlato, Bulgarian Ministry of Magical Foreign Affairs, Lillian Rosier, daughter of Evan Rosier, Jacques Bonne, Curse Specialist for the French Ministry of Magic, former Department of Mysteries official Augustus Rookwood..."

Ginny sighed and flicked the radio off. There were hundreds of questions floating around in her brain, like how the explosion had gone off, how were Harry and Hermione involved, and most importantly, when the hell was she going to get her interview with Lucius Malfoy, but she was too tired to think. Dragging herself off the couch, she staggered into the hallway and reached for the door to her bedroom. She had to change out of her filthy clothes.

Ginny peeled off her robes and automatically tossed them onto the floor. She pulled her favorite pair of muggle jeans off the peg being her door and pulled a ratty grey sweatshirt over her head. She was about the head over to the fireplace to chat to her editor at the Prophet when her mother's voice sounded in her head.

"Pick your clothes up off the floor, Virginia," the phantom voice commanded. "I didn't pay good money for those clothes so you could throw them about."

"Yes, mum," Ginny mouthed obediently. She snatched her dress robes off the floor and inspected them. Hmm, they seemed pretty clean. She was too tired to take the time to perform the special cleaning charms on the delicate fabric. She was about to stick them in the closet when an alarm sounded in her head.

Wait a minute. Why the hell are they clean?

Slowly, a little nagging thought appeared in Ginny's brain. She tried to dismiss it a product of an exhausting night, but it refused to go away and the more she thought about it, the more sense it made.

Ginny shivered, although the rising sun warmed her apartment. She could find the answer, she was sure she could...but did she really want to go back there, back to relive the darkest moments of her life?

Another glance down at her immaculate robes was all she needed to answer that question. Something odd was going on and she was going to find the answer, Lucius article or no Lucius article. Forgetting how tired she was, she shoved her robes into an old canvas bag and quickly headed out the door again. (I changed these last few paragraphs here, as before I really had no reason to explain why Ginny went rushing out of the room, but now...all shall be revealed in chapter five!)

********

"Pansy Parkinson?" Hermione asked, her jaw dropping. "You scared the life out of me. What are you doing here?"

"I finished my assignment earlier than expected," she said calmly, taking off her cloak and banishing it to a peg against the opposite wall. "I've heard some of the news reports. I trust everything went well at your end?" Pansy's blue eyes regarded her coolly.

"As well as we hoped," Hermione replied in an offhand way. "Eleanor and Stephen just got back about forty-five minutes ago."

"Is everyone okay?" Pansy asked. Her expression was calm, but Hermione could have sworn she saw her lip tremble slightly.

"Yes," Hermione replied. "Everybody." Pansy nodded, and smiled.

"Well, I'm beat," Hermione said, desperate to get out of the room. "I'm just going to head off to bed."

"You do that," Pansy said with a cold smile. "See you tomorrow."

When Hermione got to her room, Parvati was already bundled under the covers of her bed and Hermione assumed she had already fallen asleep. As she was getting into her own bed, however, she heard Parvati stir and mumble something.

"She's back, is she?" Parvati asked, not opening her eyes.

Hermione rolled her eyes and blew out the candle beside her bed. "Honestly Parvati, we're miles underground and have virtually spent that last five years cut off from all civilization, and still your gossip radar is as sharp as ever."

"Gotta have something to distract myself from all this war and destruction," she replied without missing a beat. "God, a year in France. I didn't think she'd come back. I don't know if I'd have come back. How'd she do, all in all?"

Hermione shrugged before realizing that Parvati couldn't see her. "Okay, I guess. Pretty good. From all Lee's reports, she's doing well."

She heard Parvati give a little sigh. "Pansy Parkinson, fighting tooth and nail to preserve the ideals and achieve the goals of The Resistance. Even Professor Trelwany couldn't have predicted that." They lapsed into silence, Hermione staring blankly at the ceiling. She was just beginning to believe Parvati had fallen asleep when she spoke again.

"She asked about him, didn't she?"

Hermione played dumb. "She asked about who?"

"You know what I'm talking about. Did she, or didn't she?"

Hermione tossed in her bed, unable to get comfortable. "Yeah. Not directly, but I could tell that's what she was fishing for."

"Are things going to get weird between you and her again, now that she's back?"

Hermione's temper flared. "She shouldn't be here, Parvati. I don't trust her. I don't see how Harry can, how he can allow her in her and let her work with us. I still say she's waiting for an opportunity to sell us out."

"I know you don't trust her as a member of The Resistance," Parvati explained patiently. "What I really meant is, do you trust her around Ron?"

A moment of silence. "For the last time, Parvati," Hermione finally answered, "I don't care what you or the rest think. Ron and I are not dating."

"Of, of course you're not dating," Parvati said with a laugh. "You're both too wrapped up in the Resistance work to ever do something like that, not to mention that you're both still too stupid to admit to each other what you've been feeling since we were still in Hogwarts. But everyone knows Pansy's hung up on Ron, Hermione. Aren't you concerned she'll try something now that she's back?"

Hermione turned away from Parvati and angrily slammed her fist into her pillow. "My only concerns where Pansy is involved are for the security of The Resistance, Parvati," she said with a final note in her voice. "Now, good night!"

Thankfully, there was no answer from the other side of the room.