Slytherin Squad

Chapter 1: Prologue

Draco Malfoy was a miserable wretch. Most people assumed this had begun after the Battle of Hogwarts. His father had been shipped off to Azkaban, Draco had been hauled in front of the Wizengamot, and his feeble, traitorous actions had barely been enough to save his own neck from the chopping block.

No, he was used to being a miserable wretch. In fact, he’d been one for so long that he’d nearly stopped noticing. It took two years of sulking about being a miserable wretch to realize that there might be a better remedy than all-consuming self-pity.

Upon observing the world around him, he discovered that Aurors miraculously generated respect. Having recognized the solution to instant happiness, he applied to the Aurors the same day.

There he was informed that a background check and references were required. Knowing a certain snake-and-skull-shaped tattoo was not looked upon favorably by the current administration, he completed the application as more of a joke than anything else. The reference acquired from Snape was surprisingly honest, and, paraphrased, said, “He’s still a useless wimp, but if he tries, he means it.” Draco thought this was the icing on the cake of his awful application, and submitted it happily. Knowing he had tried, he could then forever more blame his miserable wretchedness on someone else, and thus live the rest of his days in bitter contentedness.

He did not count on the Auror Department having a sense of humor.

He especially did not count on Harry Potter having such a strong delight in irony, and personally waiving the background check.

“Malfoy fought in the Battle of Hogwarts,” The Chosen One managed with only a slight smirk. “If it counted to let me into the Aurors, it shouldn’t count any less for him.”

He neglected to mention that Malfoy had not fired a single spell during the battle. That was for the rest of the Aurors to complain about later.

And so Draco Malfoy was accepted into the Auror Academy.

Oddly enough, every other trainee had violent reactions to his last name and left forearm. Every day, his comrades in arms challenged themselves to be more creative. It would be a shame if they left a single element in his life unexploited. How could they, with such excellent material to pull from? His father was only in Azkaban, mother a social pariah, school House synonymous with evil incarnate, and his unchangeable blood-status forever the brand of the oppressor. And did they mention he was a Death Eater?

Draco did not speak of his family. He did not speak of his blood-status. He never mentioned his House. And more than anything, Draco would never, not once, allow his left arm to be seen in public.

And so of course, every day in training, his fellow would-be-Aurors played a game. The winner was whoever could ‘accidentally’ rip off whatever daily disguise Draco had used to hide his Dark Mark.

One by one, the long days of training crept by. If Draco cried himself to sleep a good number of those nights, he would be the last to ever admit it. For once, he had no father to tell about this. He had no mother whose threatening letters would strike fear. If he failed or succeeded, it would be entirely his own fault. For the rest of his life, he would have no one to blame but the face staring back at him in the mirror. Could he live with that? He wasn’t sure, but was terrified of finding out too late that he couldn’t.

Miraculously, he survived the month of training. Even more miraculously, the endless bullying had forced him to focus on actually training, and he managed decent marks.

Everyone knew a Malfoy would have to get excellent marks for even a junior squad to request him on their roster. Again, this chance for someone else to fail him pleased Draco to no end.

Until Richard Murstow, a gruff, middle-aged Slytherin, asked for Draco to be put on his squad.

This unexpected turn also pleased Draco. If there was anything he liked more than not being held responsible, it was favoritism. And so Draco went to the squad willingly, expecting to skate by as he had for seven years in Potions.

He could not have been more wrong.

Murstow took it as his personal goal to make Draco’s life a living hell. The abuse he had received in training were loving caresses to the torture Murstow put him through. In fact, he exclusively referred to Draco as, ‘The Death Eater’.

This confused and angered Draco to no end. Until one day, he realized that the more insulting Murstow was, the less his squadmates had left to say. After less than a week, the taunts from his teammates ceased entirely. And the more Draco persevered through Murstow’s torture, the more...sympathy his teammates felt for him. For once, they did not scoot away at the team lockers. They encouraged him when he did well. Sparingly, but encouragement all the same. He tried it back on occasion. Foreign as it felt, it hadn’t killed him yet.

Draco took it as a challenge instead of a portent of doom. He did not run. He faced the abuse, he held his temper.

And he won.

While Draco would never like the man who abused him for sport, he respected the man who knew what was needed to become accepted.

As Malfoy and Murstow surveyed the wreckage of the Wizarding World, they saw the specific ruin heaped on Slytherin, the House they had once loved. No one, not even the innocent, the uninvolved, had been spared from its stigma. And so for any Slytherins willing to endure the trials of becoming an Auror, Murstow gave them the same chance he had given Draco. And together, Captain Murstow and Lieutenant Malfoy gave the new Slytherin Aurors a squad to call home afterward.

And then Murstow was murdered.

Draco Malfoy strode through the cubicles of the Auror Department, intent on getting to his office without making his day worse than it already promised to be. A hard task, by anyone’s standards, but a monumental one for the Slytherin Auror.

As he approached, heads quickly looked away, finding a spot on the ceiling so very interesting. Anything to keep from making unwanted eye contact, or, Merlin forbid, actual conversation. His traditional sneer curled around Draco’s lips. This was perfectly fine by him, as he had nothing to say to the wastes of flesh that dared call themselves Aurors. Blond hair combed crisply in place and grey eyes blazing, he marched on.

Through the cubicles, at the end of the long hallway, sanctuary awaited. He shoved open the heavy door to Slytherin Squad’s training room. A pane of spell-proofed glass divided the front section of the training room from the larger back half. In the front, lounge area of the room, plush chairs clumped around a low table on one side, with lockers on the other for the squad’s gear. A single door stood on either side, one to the Captain’s office by the lounge, one to the Lieutenant’s by the lockers.

The back half, behind the glass, was reserved for battle simulations and the most rigorous training. Slytherin Squad’s battle room gleamed a pristine white through the glass. Draco was surprised it hadn’t started gathering dust.

The other occupant of the room turned in his lounge chair, facing the opened door. Meticulously groomed, dark skin, and an indifferent expression broken only by raising an eyebrow marked Blaise Zabini. Lazily, he kicked his feet up on the low table. “Any news?”

Draco gave a grunt by way of answer, slapping the newest paperwork onto the table and dropping into a chair of his own.

Blaise rifled through them, his eyebrow climbing higher. “Too experienced for a junior squad, too incompetent for a senior squad…” He trailed off, looking up at Draco. “They don’t have the faintest idea what to do with us, do they?”

“If I could shove all their brains into one body, the entire Auror division would be lucky to make a single troll,” Draco snarled. “It’s been what, three weeks now?”

“Nearly four,” Blaise corrected. He gestured to the wide expanse of the room around him. “Not that the others aren’t making the most of the break, obviously.”

Draco snorted. “The Ministry sure does know how to motivate its Aurors.”

Behind Draco, the door to the training room opened. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic stood in the doorway, his regal face unreadable. “I’d like a word with you in private, Lieutenant Malfoy.”

Surprised, Draco stood, although not with haste. “Of course, Minister.” He led him to the Lieutenant’s office, holding open the door as Shacklebolt took a seat in front of Draco’s desk. It was a small office, and other than his certificate of graduation from the Auror Academy, Draco had never really bothered with furnishing it. He sat at his own desk, without the faintest idea what was going on.

A contemplative look stole across Kingsley’s face. “Captain Murstow’s death was far from an accident. It worries me that your squad has so much attention.”

Draco barely kept his tone level. “I believe that was the Death Eater’s point. They didn’t write ‘Blood Traitor’ across Murstow’s wall with his own organs to be subtle.”

A hard look crossed the Minister’s face. “I meant why he was targeted in the first place. Did you know that the most common terms for your Slytherin Squad are,” He ticked them off on his fingers. “a cesspool of pure-blooded ideals, a blight upon the Aurors and the Ministry, and, my favorite, a ripe breeding ground for the same toxic ideologies that spawned the need for redemption in the first place." He looked expectantly at the young Auror.

"That's outrageous!" Draco spluttered. "They missed the entire point!"

Kingsley frowned. "I'm not sure they did, Draco."

That stopped him short. "What?"

“Your squad filled with Slytherins, while a noble idea to clear their names, is meaningless without integration or a successful mission. What is there to convince anyone of anything? All you've shown is that you can associate with your own 'kind', so to speak."

We've only had one mission, Draco barely resisted snapping. "What are you saying, Minister?"

"I'm saying that you need to integrate. For the sake of the Ministry as well as your own.” Kingsley spared him a look of concern. “The last thing I want to read is a headline with Draco Malfoy's dead body, calling him the next blood-traitor."

"I fail to see how integration will protect me in the slightest."

Kingsley chuckled softly. "If you're ostracizing your old allies, you need new ones. Right now, Slytherin Squad is in the unenviable position of being hated by both sides." His mouth twitched in half-smile. "And that's a position I'd vacate as soon as possible."

Uneasiness filled the pit of Draco’s stomach. Nothing good could come of integrating the squad, and he’d always known it. So had Murstow, little that it meant now. “So you want me to go recruit a new Auror who's not a pure-blood and tell the squad to play nicely?” He nearly added, good luck, but fought the temptation.

"No. It needs to come from the leadership of the squad. A figure of authority, not someone your Slytherins can pick on. I've already selected a new Lieutenant for them."

His words punched Draco in the gut. "A new Lieutenant?" he gritted out. "And where will I be going?"

Kingsley gave him a strange look. "You'll be the Captain, of course."

Draco managed a relieved smile. "Of course."

Pushing back his chair, Kingsley stood. "Treat your Lieutenant nicely, Draco. I can't say that you'll get another one."

Draco forced a smile, purposely ignoring the threat. "I'll give him a warm, Slytherin welcome."

Fortunately, Kingsley didn't ask for a definition. With a satisfied nod, the Minister left.

Draco missed Captain Murstow already.

In the opposite corner of the Auror Division, down the many halls, sat Ginny Weasley behind her many stacks of paperwork. She shoved the closest stack to the side of her desk, letting her head thunk onto the clear space. Her eyes felt like they’d start bleeding if she had to check another trainee’s improperly filed Apparition License. One would think there were a limited number of ways to botch your own name, address, and wand type, but the creativity of idiots continued to surprise her. Sitting with her head pressed against her desk didn’t help her headache much, but anything felt better than paperwork.

A firm knock came from her office door.

“What?” Ginny snapped, not caring if her students knew they’d put her in a foul temper. It was their own fault, anyway.

“Is now a bad time?” Kingsley Shacklebolt’s worried voice came from the doorway.

Ginny jumped up, knocking the stack of papers onto the floor. “Minister Shacklebolt! Come in!” A quick sweep of her wand Vanished the scattered forms.

He chuckled. “May I take a seat?”

“Yes, yes of course!” she flustered, dropping back into her own chair. “How can I help you?”

Kingsley watched her carefully as he spoke. “I’ve heard you’re not fond of being an Instructor.”

Ginny winced. “I’m that bad, am I?”

A broad smile lit the face of her family friend. “I’ve seen your students outduel fresh Aurors without breaking a sweat. It’s not your skill I’m concerned about.”

Ginny sighed, admitting defeat. “Hermione spilled?” The Minister confirmed with a sly smile. “I shouldn’t have taken this promotion, and everyone knows it. Aurors retire here, and I barely earned my stripes before leaving the field.”

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. “If taking down four Dark Wizards is what you call ‘barely’, I’d like to see the rest of what you can do.”

Excitement thudded in her chest. “Do you mean…a field position?”

Unable to keep from smiling at her exuberance, he nodded. “An...interesting position opened up on a squad. I would only trust an experienced Auror with it, and you fit all the requirements.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Not to be rude, but what requirement do I fill? Best friend of the Head of the DMLE, Hermione Weasley?”

Kingsley kept a straight face. “I was looking for the sister-in-law, actually.” That made her smile. But he continued in all seriousness. “You have a level head, Ginny. You’re pure-blooded but not prejudiced, and you understand people, among other things. Did you know that when you were a field Auror, every one of your superiors said nothing but glowing praises about you?”

“I didn’t know that, sir.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know still. Which is why it was a shame to turn you into an instructor so early. Especially when you could be a Lieutenant in the field.”

She couldn’t help gaping. “A Lieutenant?”

Kingsley smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of reinstating you as anything less. But it’s not on a senior squad.”

She nodded. “I expected as much. It makes sense to pull an instructor to help lead a junior squad. I might even have trained some of the Aurors.”

The Minister hesitated. “It’s not a junior squad.”

“Is this some kind of a riddle?” Ginny frowned at him in confusion. “We only have junior and senior squads.”

He let out a deep breath. “And Slytherin Squad.”

Had Ginny taken a drink, she would have sprayed it across her desk. “Forget passing training, I’ve always wondered how they even managed to pass the background check.”

“They didn’t,” he said simply.

“I’m sorry, I could have sworn I just heard you say we have Aurors who didn’t pass the background check.”

“Harry and I agreed to make an exception, and waive it.” The call would not have been made lightly, Ginny knew, and Kingsley’s obvious distress from the current ramifications made that all the more obvious. “They came to us with the idea of a squad for anyone who wanted back into society, and were willing to earn the chance to be there.”

“They?”

“Richard Murstow and Draco Malfoy,” he explained.

“Malfoy?” she winced. “Isn’t his tattoo,” she slapped her left forearm, “an instant disqualification from the Aurors?”

“Usually, yes,” he agreed. “But we let him in on a trial basis, and he earned his slot.”

Ginny couldn’t disagree more, but kept it to herself. “And Murstow? His death was brutal.”

Kingsley nodded sadly. “He’s the one. And it looks like Captaining Slytherin Squad is the reason why.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to have to be blunt, but why would Death Eaters even care about him leading his failure of a squad? I’d think taking out someone like Tonks, who’s one of the best Captains since Mad Eye, would be a bigger priority.”

He shrugged helplessly. “If we knew why, we’d have done something about it already. As it is, I’m doing the only thing I can: assigning one of my best Aurors to figure it out.”

The realization hit her, making Ginny blink. “Oh.”

Leaning forward, he laced his fingers atop her desk. “And now it’s my turn to be blunt. Waving those background checks on Slytherin Squad may have been what got Murstow killed. He was a good Auror, and not one to take chances, so we took his word when he said the Slytherins had changed their tune.”

“That’s why you’ve kept them out of real combat, isn’t it?” Ginny figured out. “You’re not sure you can trust them.”

Kingsley chuckled. “That and their inability to handle combat don’t make them the most promising squad, no.”

Personally, she didn’t see why the Minister was still bothering with them. “And you want me to be their Lieutenant.” Disbelief leaked into her tone. “Who’s replacing Murstow as Captain?”

A suppressed smile twitched at his lips. “Draco Malfoy.”

Staring at him in complete disbelief, she gave up, dropping her head onto her hands. “There has got to be something I’m missing. There is no way a single squad can have this many problems.”

“I’d offer you the Captain’s chair,” Kingsley said softly, “If I weren’t absolutely positive it would end with your organs strewn across your walls.”

She looked up at that. “What makes you think Malfoy won’t get the same treatment?”

“Not much,” he agreed. “I’m hoping it takes more effort to label a Malfoy a blood-traitor than it would a Weasley, or Murstow, who married a muggleborn. But he knows the risks, and is more than willing.”

Her face scrunched in revulsion. “That doesn’t sound like the Malfoy I know. He’ll have some nasty plan up his sleeve--anything to keep from risking his own skin.”

Amusement flitted across Kingsley’s face. “Then you’re there to discover it. If you find anything seriously wrong with the squad, come to me, and we’ll shut it down. You don’t have to risk anything more than you’re comfortable with.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “Gosh, you make this job sound so appealing!”

“I need you to be aware of what you’re getting into,” he said simply. “Anything else would be jeopardizing your safety.”

“Minister, you know I’m desperate, but…” Ginny paused, trying to find the words to put it nicely. There weren’t any. “I’m not that desperate.”

Kingsley leaned forward, intently focused on his junior officer. “It would be a shame if you were. Death Eaters targeted their squad, and we don’t know why. The only hint we have, is that after that, any sane person would close the squad.”

“And so that’s the last thing you’ll do,” she concluded, understanding the gravity.

He nodded. “There’s few Aurors I’d trust with this. And if we do need to close them, I’ll do my best to get you onto a senior squad afterward. Just make it for two months.”

“I understand, sir.” This might become the worst decision she’d ever made, but Ginny wasn’t about to back down just from some slimy Slytherins. “When do I report in?”

Kingsley grinned at her decision. “Training Room 4, 8:30 tomorrow. I’ll send someone over to take your place here.” He stood, offering Ginny his hand. “Good luck, Lieutenant. You’ll need it.”

Draco angrily crumpled the note. It bore only five words, five words that single-handedly spelled the ruination of him, his career, and what shreds were left of his family name. All in five words.

It was 8:20, and inside the crumpled note read, “Lieutenant Weasley reporting for duty.”

He swore as violently as he knew how. Of course the public would only be satisfied by one of the so-called War Heroes signing off on Slytherin Squad. He had nearly specifically requested that Shacklebolt not give him Ron Weasley, but refrained out of respect for the Minster’s intelligence. But who else would Kingsley have been thinking of? Granger (now another Weasley, but she would forever be Granger to him) was Head of the DMLE, Potter was Head of the Aurors… and then there was Weasley. Yes, he was now the most famous ‘Dark-wizard Catcher’ of all time, but he was still just an Auror, and could be assigned to a squad at any time. Stupid, stupid of him to trust Shacklebolt.

He paced through the lounge of the training room, and still was pacing when the door inevitably opened. “Weasley,” he drawled bitterly, not even glancing up, “so overjoyed you could be here. I assume the Minister briefed you to clean up the nasty Slytherins’ act?”

“Something like that,” a female voice replied.

Draco whipped around. A slim redhead gaped at him from the doorway. “You’re not Weasley.”

“I am.” Amusement trickled into her voice at his confusion. “I’m Auror Weasley, here for my new assignment.”

Auror Weasley? Then it hit him. Not Ron, his sister. Was that any better? Probably not. “I’m Auror Malfoy, your new Captain.” Proper manners dictated he offer his hand, but he couldn’t quite stomach it.

She winced slightly. “And I’m your new Lieutenant.”

The door opened behind Weasley. Blaise sauntered in. "Hey Draco--" He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the redhead. Slowly, a grin split Blaise’s face. “Well, well, look what we have here! I never expected Ministry oversight to be so attractive!”

Weasley flushed bright red. “Not a filthy blood-traitor anymore?” she asked skeptically.

“We’re all blood traitors now.” He shrugged, offering his hand. “Never met you officially before. Welcome to the squad.”

She took it, uncertainty lingering in her eyes at this wildcard. "Where is the squad?"

He smirked. "Saw most of them right behind me at the Apparition Point. Shouldn't be long now."

The door burst open. "Draco! I heard we got a new Lieutenant!" A curly-haired blond boy burst through it. His face scrunched up at the sight of Ginny. "Oh."

"That's Theodore Nott Jr," Blaise helpfully supplied. "The scowling man behind him is Nott Sr."

The man in question paid no notice to the other team members, dropping into a chair and flicking open the newspaper.

Blaise nodded. "He's always this talkative."

Nott Sr. only snapped the newspaper higher in response, so that he didn't have to see anyone past it.

"So I'm not to take it personally?" Ginny asked Blaise. A hint of amusement leaked through.

He only shrugged. "Well, it's probably also personal, but be my guest."

Theodore Nott Jr. moved toward Draco hesitantly. "So...are things going to change?"

Draco grunted, leaning back against the glass wall. "Not if I can help it."

Ginny turned to him. "You have a normal routine you follow?"

"Is there a Ministry-proscribed one I'm missing out on?" he sneered.

Ginny turned away in disgust. "Just as likeable as I remembered," she muttered.

Next to her, Blaise snorted. Her comment was instantly forgotten as the door opened again. A grin split his face. "Hello, ladies."

Two girls strode in, dressed to the nines. The taller one, with long brown hair hanging mid back, even wore heels. She looked disdainfully around the room before dropping into a chair.

The shorter one rolled her eyes at Blaise. With short chestnut hair framing a rounder face, she couldn't help but look impish. "You sound like a creeper," she chuckled, joining Blaise. She gestured with her chin towards Ginny. "Do we have a Ministry inspection today?"

Blaise chuckled. "This is...Ginny, right?" At her nod, he continued. "Ginny Weasley, our new Lieutenant. Ginny, this is Daphne Greengrass, sister of Astoria Greengrass, the elusive creature you see over there."

Daphne swept her eyes over Ginny, taking in the well-worn combat boots, simple jeans, and cheap shirt. Her smile held all the insincerity and sarcasm a society witch could muster. "Lovely. You'll fit in in no time."

Ginny smiled insincerely back at her. "Why thank you! I'm sure we'll be best of friends!"

Blaise snorted, trying to disguise his laughter as coughing. "Excuse me," he gave up, retreating to speak to Draco.

"So how long are you here before we get a replacement?" Daphne asked what she thought was a straightforward question.

Ginny shrugged. "Maybe forever," she said, just to irritate the girl.

Daphne looked confused. "But you're not a Slytherin."

Dry laughter escaped Ginny. "Funny thing, that reminds me of a war we just fought. Where Slytherins thought they were better than everyone else and wanted to kill them for it."

"This is Slytherin Squad," Daphne explained slowly, as if Ginny were two years old. "Comprised of Slytherins. It's kind of our thing."

"And you're an Auror first," Ginny replied in an equally patronizing manner. "Where everyone’s treated equally. It's kind of their thing."

Daphne gave her an even more insincere smile, filled with barely concealed disgust. "Do excuse me." She stalked off to join Blaise and Draco chattering intently against the glass wall.

Ginny took an inventory of the training room. Nott Jr. had joined his father and the other girl in the lounge chairs, though no one was speaking to each other. The girl leafed through a magazine. Nott Jr. stared at the group surrounding Malfoy longingly.

Normally, she would go to the lounge, but Ginny had a sinking feeling the others were there specifically because she wasn't. To keep from looking like an idiot standing by herself, she wandered over to the lockers. The locker marked 'Lieutenant' still had 'Malfoy' written on it. Beside it, the tag on the Captain's locker stood ominously blank.

The door slammed open. "I told you," a surly looking man with a mustache snarled, "a new Lieutenant doesn’t mean a damned thing. We’ll have ‘em gone before he can even say ‘Slytherins’.”

Goyle followed right behind on his heels, nodding at the right parts and frowning in consternation. Just as bulky and dumb-looking as she’d remembered. A third man walked in behind Goyle, looking even more menacing and completing the team.

The silent girl (Ginny already forgot her name) pointed a finger to Ginny. The mustached older man looked where she pointed, his scowl deepening. “A Weasley, is it?”

“Yes.” Ginny braced herself.

Instead, he snorted, dropping into a lounge chair. “Figures we’d get saddled with one of them.”

Malfoy separated from Blaise and Daphne to stand in the center of the room. "Today, we'll be scrimmaging." His eyes scanned the room as some of the younger ones cheered. Loud groans came from the two older men. "Blaise, Daphne, Nott Sr, Macnair and Warrington against Nott Jr, Goyle, Astoria, and Weasley. Battle Room--now. We start in three minutes."

Ginny didn't like the smirk on his face as Malfoy headed towards her . The rest of the team strode through the glass doors. The mustached one whispered furiously to the menacing one as they headed off into the far corner of the Battle Room.

Malfoy motioned her back as the rest of the team left. “Now do you realize what you’re getting into, Weasley?”

She frowned slightly. “No”

“Merlin!” He threw his hands in the air. “Do I have to spell it out for you? We’re Slytherins. All of us. And you’re a Gryffindor. Some of them still hate your kind—“

“Are you saying I’m in danger here?” Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Of course not,” he bluffed easily, “We’re Aurors.”

“Good. Then let me give this to you straight.” Ginny strode up to him till her face was only inches from his, eyes still glittering fiercely. “I need this job. Aurors don’t get demoted often and this is most likely my only chance to get back in the field without shaming everyone I know. But I’ve heard about this squad. Not much, but enough to tell me that you are dangerously close to getting shut down. And I doubt other Captains take kindly to former Death Eaters on their team—“

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Malfoy growled.

Ginny chuckled in a decidedly unfriendly way. “Oh yes I do. Face it, Malfoy. If your little squad folds up shop I’m stuck back at HQ. I doubt – Ron, let’s say? – would have near so much incentive.” Weasley paused to let it sink in. “Work with me, just a little bit, and I’ll try to help your squad.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, she did have incentive. And that alone was far more than he was likely to get from anyone else.

One word from him sealed his own fate. “Deal.” Malfoy stepped back, still using his extra height to stare her down. “But I run the team without question or backtalk.”

She dipped her head. “I'll be my usual, cooperative self.” Was that sarcasm? “Now, do I get to join the scrimmage?”

An oddly malicious undertone came with his chuckle. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

With a curt nod, Ginny strode through the glass doors after the team. Looking around, she took inventory of the large white room. Random boxes stacked in scattered piles, providing random scatterings of cover. One particular corner had a waist-high box next to one taller than Ginny. Excellent cover.

Only a few feet away, Goyle, the silent, spoiled-looking girl, and Nott Jr gathered. Nott's eyes roamed every corner nervously, as if the battle had already begun.

"Alright, do you guys have a plan? Usual strategies?" Ginny asked, walking over.

The girl looked like Ginny had sprouted a second head.

"We fight," Goyle answered, flexing his grip on his wand. "Take 'em down."

"Nott Jr?" Ginny asked, hoping for some sanity.

The boy winced. "Theo, please."

"Alright, Theo. What do you usually do?"

"Fight..." he answered lamely.

Ginny wanted to slam her head into a wall. "We're outnumbered. If we just 'fight', there's a good chance we'll lose. Now, what have you been taught in these situations?"

"You're just wasting time," Goyle growled.

"Don't over complicate things," the girl agreed.

Through the pillars of white boxes, Blaise trotted over. "Theo!" he called. "Switch me. Your dad wanted bonding time."

Theo gave a great sigh of relief. He darted off through the boxes where Blaise had come from.

Ginny frowned, trying to figure out what game was being played. Her scrutiny just made Blaise shrug. "Felt like changing things up."

"You're the Charms Expert on the squad?"

He swept his arm in a mock bow. "The one and only."

A shrill whistle blast echoing through the room cut off anything further.

"Brace yourself," Blaise whispered.

Ginny nodded, wand springing to her hand. As she dropped into her Auror crouch, the familiar surreal calmness stole over her.

"Good cover around the corner," she whispered to Blaise.

He nodded briskly, following her as she crept toward it. At a sharp motion from him, Goyle and the girl trailed after.

Movement ahead drew Ginny's eye. Instinctively, she rolled through the last foot of open space. A spell smashed over her head. Ducking, she crouched behind the waist-high block. She cast a shield on Blaise as he sprinted after her. With him safely next to her behind the block, she recast it on the other two.

"You two!" Ginny yelled. "Run, you're shielded!"

The girl vehemently shook her head.

"Now, Goyle!" Blaise commanded.

With a deep breath, Goyle jumped through the gap. He only landed halfway across. No spells fired as he tumbled through the rest.

On the other side, he pressed his back to the half-block next to Blaise and Ginny.

"I need to look," Ginny said to Blaise. "Cover me?"

"Shoot if you can," he added. "I got your back."

The air rippled around Ginny as Blaise's ward sprung into place. She grinned at the deep buzz--his shield was far stronger than she ever could have managed. Wand at the ready, Ginny poked her head up. Spells screamed by. They smashed into the shield, dissipating harmlessly.

The five members of the other team all aimed toward Ginny, covering her in a semicircle of wand fire. Daphne fired again, grinning. The shield absorbed it easily.

Another one stood to fire, leaving himself wide open. "Stupefy!" Ginny yelled. Her bolt slammed into him, knocking his unconscious body into the far wall. She spun before it hit the ground. Theo, this time. He didn't even try to dodge as her Stunner caught him on the arm. Two down.

"Duck!" Blaise yelled. Ginny dropped to the floor. A spell streaked by, smashing the shield.

"Recast?" Ginny asked.

He did so, but his face strained with the effort. "Careful--I can't manage it a third time."

The hum surrounded her again, if more faintly than the first time. A wicked grin came to Ginny's face. "Fight behind me? I won't let anything get by."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You better be good enough to keep your word, Weaselette."

Her grin grew. "Let's show them how it's done."

Goyle stayed safely hidden behind the block, and Ginny hadn't the faintest idea where the girl on their team had gone.

"Now," Ginny whispered. As one, she and Blaise sprung to their feet. Her wand flashed, deflecting a spell. Another zoomed toward her. Ginny sent it spiraling high into the wall. The more she deflected, the less the shield had to hold back.

Frustration mounting, Daphne fired a powerful Dark spell. The sickly yellow bolt ripped apart the air as it flew.

"Protego!" Ginny yelled. The bolt flung back at Daphne. She scrambled frantically to duck out of its path. The wall steamed from the bolt’s scorch mark.

Safely behind Ginny, Blaise aimed over her shoulder. Daphne had nowhere to go as his Disarming spell hit. Her wand flew from her hand.

Macnair snarled. "Crucio!"

Ginny yanked Blaise down as she threw herself at the floor. The spell flew by harmlessly.

Anger distorted Blaise’s features as he jumped to his feet. "Stupefy!" A loud thud announced the spell had hit home.

Only one remained as Ginny joined him.

"Impedimenta!" the older man fired in desperation. It soared wide.

Ropes sprung from Ginny's wand, entangling him as he struggled to get away.

Malfoy's voice boomed across the room. "A win for...Ginny and Blaise?" Even while disembodied, the puzzlement was clear.

Throwing an arm around Ginny's shoulders, Blaise blasted congratulatory sparks from his wand. His grin should have split his face. "Ah, the sweet smell of victory!"

Ginny returned the grin. "That was some excellent Charms work, Zabini! Consider me impressed."

Ruffling her hair, he chuckled as Ginny squawked in protest. "From now on, anything you say you can do I won't doubt for a second. How'd you get such fast reflexes?"

She shrugged. "Quidditch. Practice. Training against decent opponents."

Blaise snorted at the last one. "I'll give you that."

Side-by-side, they surveyed the destruction they had wrought. The larger half of the team lay  decimated. Daphne had found her wand, and together with Malfoy, they woke the rest of the team. It took both of them to untangle the older man. Dignity torn to shreds, he stalked out of the room. The slam of the outer training room door echoed through the walls.

Hesitantly, Goyle peered over the top of his block. "We won?"

"Yes," Blaise drawled. "Your stunning spell work saved us all."

His face lit with confusion. "It did?"

"No, you halfwit!" Blaise sneered, disgusted Goyle could even think that. "You were more worthless than a flobberworm. Try firing your wand next time. It tends to help."

The rest of the Aurors gathered around in varying states of incredulity. Daphne rolled her wand in her hand, silently fuming. The girl who was supposed to have been on their team sauntered out of whatever corner she'd been hiding in. Not a trace of shame at her disappearance was visible on her.

Malfoy strode to the center of the room. "Daphne, Macnair, Warrington, Nott Jr, you know the drill. I want those lockers sparkling by tomorrow morning." Without another word, he walked back toward the glass doors.

"You're not going to say what they did wrong?" Ginny called after him in utter bewilderment.

Malfoy turned. "They'll figure it out." He strode back toward her, eyes menacing. "You have something you want to tell them?"

"A lecture from a Weasley," the mustached one snorted. "This oughta be good."

Ginny surveyed the faces watching her. Every single one looked furious at their defeat. "Does anyone know why Blaise and I could so easily defeat all of you?"

"Because you're freakishly fast?" Theo volunteered.

"And Zabini's got a thick shield," the menacing one growled.

“Zabini and I fought like any Aurors should,” heat rose to Ginny’s voice. Their complete lack of comprehension stoked her infamous temper. “Had any properly trained Aurors been fighting you, they would have decimated you just as badly--if not worse. The problem was not with us.” Her furious gaze swept over the rest of the team, Goyle and the other girl included. She bit out her next words. “The problem is that each and every one of you fought like Death Eaters!”

Silence fell across the hall. Slowly and ominously, Malfoy’s wand tapped against his arm. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he fought his anger. Still, no one said a word.

“Every single one of you,” Ginny continued, “were concerned only with your own skin. Had even one of you thought to throw up a shield around a teammate, you could have taken us down.”

“Our shields aren’t as good as Blaise’s!” Theo protested.

“They don’t have to be,” Blaise quietly replied. “There were more of you. Even taking down a few simple shields could have exhausted us and given you the victory.”

Daphne sneered at the suggestion. “Any decent spell will rip a simple shield to shreds. I can’t think of anything more useless.”

Bewilderment hit Ginny. “If by ‘decent’ you mean teaming with Dark Magic--”

“What else’ll we be fighting?” the mustached one bellowed. “I thought we were training to battle Dark Wizards, not wimpy, self-righteous Aurors!” He stood, brushing into her as he walked past. “I don’t have time for your condescension,” he snarled.

One by one, the squad silently followed him out the door.

Blaise turned to Ginny with a forced smile. “Want to join me and Daphne for drinks? Celebrate our victory?”

Behind Blaise’s shoulder, Daphne glared murderous mutiny at Ginny.

“That’s ok, you go have fun.” Ginny didn’t need the Inner Eye to tell she wasn’t wanted. “I’ll take you up on it when I’m not so exhausted.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Throwing an arm around Daphne’s shoulders, they headed toward the door.

Standing off to the side, Malfoy had still not said a word.

Furious at their useless excuse for a Captain, Ginny stalked out of the room.

“Blaise,” Draco drawled lazily. The single word held the other Auror back. Draco didn’t bother looking up from his wand, still tapping against his arm. “I distinctly remember assigning you to the other team.”

Stepping away from Daphne’s side, Blaise sauntered up to Draco. “That’s funny, because I distinctly remember you leaving out that you were giving Weasley our most incompetent Aurors, and outnumbering her. Must’ve slipped your mind.” He smiled dangerously. “As did my team assignment.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “They’ll never accept her now.”

Blaise simply snorted. “She’d never let the team last till tomorrow otherwise. Sort out your priorities, mate.”

With a mocking salute, Blaise threw his arm back around Daphne, striding out of the training room without a glance behind him.

Slytherin Squad started off in their Training Room again today. Ginny headed straight over, determined to show them she was good, prove that she could handle—

The training room was empty. She took a few steps inside, hearing the muted click of her own boots echo off the walls. Wait, not completely empty. Malfoy lounged in one of the thick comfy chairs scattered throughout the walkway area.

“Weasley,” he drawled. “Good to see you’re prompt, if still here.”

“Malfoy,” she returned icily.

Silence. She stood there awkwardly, desperately trying to find anything to look at to keep from remembering that the ever annoying Malfoy was a mere 20ft away.

The door burst open, dumping the exuberant boy from the day before into the Training Room. “Good morning, Draco!”

“Theo,” his Captain replied cooly. Apparently used to such a greeting, Theo sauntered over to the lounge chairs. Only the sounds of his newspaper pages rustling broke the heavy silence.

Ginny stood awkwardly. Malfoy continued to ignore her, silently continuing his work on his clipboard.

“Is...there anything I can do to help?” she volunteered hesitantly.

Malfoy looked up, his icy gaze boring into her. “Are you familiar with the team roster?”

Ginny winced. “No.”

“Can you fill out any of their forms?”

“No.”

“Can you make tea?”

She couldn’t have heard that right. “Excuse me?”

Malfoy shrugged. “Theo usually does it, but as he seems hard at work…” The boy in question had located the comics section of the paper. Every few seconds, a giggle issued from him. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at Ginny. “Unless you have something better to do?”

Of course Malfoy would have his Lieutenant do the work of a House Elf. Silently fuming but not about to let him see it, she strode out of the Training Room.

Finally. Draco closed his eyes, tipping his head back on top of the armchair. Peace and quiet. The Weasel was gone, at least temporarily. Usually, he didn’t even get his tea till mid-morning, but being a Captain had its advantages.

His throat closed for a second against the memory. If he could be half so good a captain as Richard… A clench of his jaw brought reality rolling back in. Everyone was prejudiced in their own way. If anyone ever wondered why Slytherin Squad spent so much more time than other squads training, well, that was why. Other squads got to do things, go on missions.

Draco chuckled dryly. The one mission they’d gotten had been funny, at best. Poor Richard. A simple rogue spell decimated the team, the surrounding property, and nearly killed Goyle. No one ever wondered why they hadn’t gotten a second one.

What a glorious first mission, Draco remembered sarcastically.

The door to the Training Room opened. Without saying a word, Weasley deposited the steaming cup on the table next to him, retreating toward the spell-proof glass into the battle zone.

He looked down at the cup, surprised she’d even done it, let alone without complaining. Cautiously, Draco took a sip. And nearly choked. It was incredible! Before she could reach the glass, he called out, “What did you do to my tea, Weasley?”

Her eyes narrowed. “If you don’t like it, go make your own.”

“And if I command you to make more? I am your Captain, like it or not. And insubordination is not looked upon lightly in the Aurors.”

“Then I report your megalomaniacal ways to Hermione.”

He smirked unpleasantly. “And then you’d be out of your field job. I hear there’s an opening with the Instructors.” He faked astonishment. “Oh, that’s right. That’s your spot that’s still vacant. I doubt they’d let an able-bodied Auror stand idly by, especially one with such excellent Instructing experience.”

Draco could see as she struggled through her temper, jaw clenched so hard he wondered how long it would take to crack.

“Fine,” she snapped, still struggling. “How would you like the new tea, oh Captain?”

He took his time responding. Swirling the tea, he tapped the spoon against the cup. Sipping slowly, he savored the wonderful flavor almost as much as the priceless look on Weasley’s face. Draco placed the cup deliberately on the table. “It’ll do.”

That was the last straw. “After all this—!” She lost it and stormed into the glass room mid-sentence.

The sound of the practice targets blasting to smithereens followed a few seconds later.

Draco chuckled to himself, sipping at his delicious tea. Some things, he noted sagely, one could get used to. And a Lieutenant with such an entertaining temper… Well, that might be one of them.

A desk warrior or a despotic Captain? The longer she stayed with the Slytherin Squad, the better that desk looked. Slowly, the team trickled into the lounge. Even through the glass Ginny could hear the friends chatting easily back and forth.

Daphne pushed open the glass doors, making a face when she spotted Ginny. “Oh. You’re still here.”

That was the last straw. An idea hit Ginny, and she marched out past Daphne. Malfoy grinned at something Blaise had said, but she couldn’t care less that she was interrupting. “Malfoy?”

He spun, surprised at being addressed by her.

“I’m assuming you don’t need me for any of today’s plans?”

The blond chuckled. “Very astute observation, Weasley.”

“Then I have business of my own to attend to,” she replied, striding out of the Training Room. Safely away from Slytherin eyes, Ginny let herself grin. Malfoy had no idea what he was in for.

Hours later, Draco sat in his office, grateful for the peace and quiet from a long day. The scrimmage, as usual, ended with injuries. Luckily it was only Goyle and Warrington, but he’d dismissed the rest of the team early regardless.

The knock at the door of his office rudely interrupted Draco. “What do you want?” he snapped, not bothering to look up.

“How did you know it was me?” Weasley asked, pushing open the door.

He sighed. “No one else would bother to knock.” She giggled without explaining. Draco rolled his eyes. “Find something amusing?”

Her grin was practically audible. “I assumed the same thing with Minister Shacklebolt.”

Draco masked his surprise well. Merlin, he hadn’t even considered that! “Figures, a Weasley having such poor manners.”

“Poor manners! Who are you, Mr. Sunshine and Rainbows?”

“Did you come in here to do more than nag me about my manners? Because, really, one mother is enough.”

He did look up, then, and the sight was well worth the wait. Weasley’s face twitched with barely suppressed rage. Something that had once been a paper crumpled in her clenched fist. “Malfoy--!” she started, then cut off in restraint. “If I could--!” No more luck with the second attempt.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, enjoying her fury far more than any sane man should.

A few calming breaths later, she tried again. “I came in here with a mission for this ridiculous squad. I hand-picked one they could probably handle, and wouldn’t mutiny over.” Her eyes stared hexes down at him. “But apparently, it’s their Captain I should have been worrying about.” She turned on her heel. “Good luck with the squad. Mark me ‘present and attending’ for the rest of the month, and we’re done.”

A mission. Draco’s brain lagged hideously behind his gaping mouth. As she yanked the door open, he called, “Wait!”

Weasley turned, glaring at him over her shoulder.

No words of wisdom stumbled into his head.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Unbelievable.” His chance at doing anything with the rest of his life waved him a cheery goodbye and fluttered out alongside Auror Weasley. The slam of his office door sent a much-needed jolt to his brain.

Draco jumped up, racing to fling the door open. “Weasley, I’m sorry!”

She stopped dead in her tracks. Barely turning her head to see him, she said, “Do my ears deceive me? I could have sworn I just heard a Malfoy apologize.”

Draco winced. It took concerted effort, but he managed it a second time. “What I said was uncalled for.” She waited for him to continue, but his pride already smarted enough.

Ginny sighed dramatically. “Bribery creates the most-heartfelt of feelings.” Her angry eyes pinned him like a bug. “No more belittling, no more treating me like a second-class lieutenant. No more making tea. No more paperwork.”

He couldn’t stop the pained gasp in time. “But... but…“ Impassively, she waited for him to finish. “What’s the mission?”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yaxley’s going to trial, and he needs an Auror guard. Good enough for you, oh Captain?”

Yaxley? Most of the squad knew him personally. No doubt, it was a good mission, but with an insanely high risk factor. “He’ll try to break out, with us guarding him!”

The girl grinned devilishly. “I’m counting on it.”

Draco’s stomach dropped out the bottom of his chest. Insane? Insanely brilliant! “You’re assuming no one will, you know…help him.”

Her eyes narrowed further. “I was told these were reformed Death Eaters. If that’s wrong…?”

“No, no!” Draco instantly protested. “That won’t be a problem!” A light sweat broke out. Not her problem, at least.

“No more being unnecessarily rude, tea, or paperwork,” Weasley reminded him impatiently.

“Not paperwork. If I have to do it, so do you.” His own words shocked him. He hadn’t meant to sound so…fair.

Grudgingly, Weasley nodded. “Close enough.” She handed him the crumpled sheet. “Tomorrow at three.”

He could barely believe the beautiful sheet in his hands. Combat could wait for another day. This was a real mission, and a pretty damn good one at that. “For the record,” his mouth blurted before he could stop it, “I doubt you could be much worse at this kind of extortion.”

She stepped up to him, nearly toe-to-toe, forcing him to look up at her. “I’m here for one reason—to lend political credence to your joke of a squad. You’re the fool if you think this is the best the sister of the Dark Wizard Duelist, ex-girlfriend of the Boy Who Lived, and best friend of the Head of the DMLE can do.”

“Ooh, riding off everyone else’s coattails. How talented,” Draco drawled. Quickly, he tacked on, “I only agreed to unnecessary rudeness.”

Except for a hard blink, her face remained impassive. Her control impressed him. With a sickly sweet smile, she replied, "Don't be bitter because all your contacts are behind bars. The game's politics, and I'm playing it. I didn't think my actual credentials mattered one whit to you."

Draco gave her a wolfish smile. "You're right. A flobberworm could do your job, so long as its last name was Weasley."

She sighed dramatically. "But alas! The poor worm lacks the skill to check the 'Fit for Leadership' box on your evaluation form." She spun on her heel, heading back out the door. "See you tomorrow, Malfoy!"

"They always call us 'Reformed Slytherins and Death Eaters', but I really don't understand what a Slytherin should be reforming from in the first place. Ambition?" Blaise drawled, sipping his firewhiskey. Daphne and he shared the love of this bar, and, as usual, were each other's wingmen. As of recently, both had become more and more unsuccessful at picking up dates. Neither of them seemed to mind.

Daphne snorted. "It's shorter than Reformed People Who Would Have Become Death-Eaters Eventually."

Blaise looked at her sideways. "Would you?"

Daphne shrugged. "My father was forced to. Thankfully, that was common knowledge. I know Astoria would have, with enough pressure. You?"

Blaise took a sip of his drink to buy time. "I'm not too fond of being branded like cattle."

She smirked. "Always the looks, with you."

About to protest that she'd missed the point, the crack of apparition split the air. Draco frantically searched the crowd.

Blaise waved a hand lazily in the air. "Oy, mate, over here!"

Draco shoved his way over, sizing the two of them up. "Are you drunk already?"

Blaise grinned. "The night is still young, my friend!"

Draco paused. "That's a 'no'?"

"We're not alcoholics!" Daphne protested.

Draco raised an eyebrow at their lovingly straightforward responses. "Still not a 'no'. But I'll take it, because tomorrow, we have a mission."

About to take a sip, Blaise instead gracefully spluttered it down his shirt. "A what?!"

"Yaxley's on trial, and we're escorting him."

Daphne learned from Blaise’s example, setting her glass down hard on the table. She whistled in appreciation. "Weasley must have worked her ass off to get this."

Draco scowled at the instant assumption. "What makes you say that?"

She shrugged. "I've only heard her brother the Weasel King gloat about Yaxley’s sentencing about a million times. He’s been hunting him for months."

Draco's scowl deepened. "Weasleys aside," he re-directed the conversation, "Someone on the team is inevitably going to break him out. You know I'm right."

Blaise nodded, seeing it all play out in his mind. Quite a few were notoriously volatile and irrational. They'd free Yaxley, all right, and to hell with the consequences. "You need a plan of attack? Prevention or containment?"

"Anything. I don't have any brilliant ideas, or I wouldn't be here asking." The blond's mouth pulled into a taut line. "If our Weasley even catches on to a hint, we're done for."

Blaise sat stumped. There were nine others on the squad, sure, but most of them barely cared, and would applaud, if not help. Counting those he could depend on left him with Draco, Daphne, himself...and Goyle. Fantastic.

"I have an idea," Daphne sang, a delightfully devious glimmer in her eye.

Draco stood before the team he’d come to trust, hoping with all his might that his new instincts were dead wrong.

Warrington tipped his chair back casually, his usual menace for once held back. “What’s this about? We should be scrimmaging by now.”

Draco glared. He wasn’t making this any easier. “We have a mission.” Gasps echoed around the room. Warrington’s chair thumped back onto the ground. “Yaxley’s being moved from his holding cell for sentencing. Afterward, I’m assuming we’ll also be escorting him to Azkaban.”

Macnair snorted. “You never know, really. Could be escorting him back home, like they did for me. Big scary house arrest.”

Blaise tensed, ready to diffuse whatever cropped up. Luckily, the others simply laughed, and life continued on. Weasley looked uncomfortable off to the side, but that wasn’t anything new. So far so good.

“What’s the plan, boss?” Theo asked.

Draco shrugged. “We go escort him. There’s not much to plan, just don’t screw up.”

As one, the squad crammed into the small lift. Goyle shoved Nott Sr., unfortunately, into Weasley. Revolted, he shuddered away. Weasley stood stunned. Before Draco could react, Warrington of all people, stepped between the two of them. He even threw an apologetic smile Weasley’s way. Draco and Blaise shared a look of astonishment.

“So Ginny,” Daphne asked with impeccable timing, “have you ever captured any Dark Wizards? Or does Ron always get all the fun?”

Weasley nodded. “A few. Rowle was the main one, though. Chasing him took quite a while.”

Unease instantly settled. Rowle had played Quidditch with most of them at parties. If Draco wasn’t mistaken, the Notts had been instrumental in dragging that chase out. Wasn’t it their summer house in France that Rowle had finally been taken down in? Theo Nott Jr. glared openly at the Weasel now.

“This is our stop!” Blaise announced with as much cheer as he could muster.

They filed out without a word. Most glared daggers at the back of Weasley’s head. Draco sighed internally. It had been much easier with her riding on everyone else’s coattails. Her actual credentials taking down Dark Wizards weren't quite appreciated in the present company.

Bright lights illuminated the holding cells, leaving barely any shadows. Aurors stood guard intermittently along the walls. They cast suspicious looks at the approaching squad, many of whom those Aurors had expected to be guarding one day.

Farther down the hallway, and safely behind glass, a single figure stood gracefully. Yaxley leaned forward, surveying the approaching Aurors with pleasure. “Well, well. To what do I owe this honor? So many familiar faces!”

Draco put on his sternest expression. “Yaxley! You are hereby being summoned for trial for the attempted murders of--!”

“Don’t bore me with the charges, boy. And here I thought this was a friendly visit.” With a predatory grin, he added, “Let’s see what surprises I have in store for me, hmm?”

No one moved to open the door. Preparing to do everything himself, Draco stepped forward.

Weasley put her hand on the latch, wand at the ready. “Wands on me, everyone. Blaise, at my word, cast the binding charm. Just on his upper body, mind you.” Blaise gave a nod. “One, two, three!” She flipped the latch, sliding the glass aside. “Now!” A faint purple glow surrounded Yaxley’s chest and arms, tethered back to Blaise’s wand.

“Reinforce the spell, everyone,” Draco added. Only Daphne, Goyle, and Theo bothered. A sinking feeling told Draco this didn’t bode well. Draco kept his own wand free, just in case. “Now move out.”

Weasley tossed him a look. “After we clear him of hexes, of course.”

“Yes, yes of course,” he agreed hastily. Yaxley smirked at Draco. Draco's recovery hadn't fooled the Death Eater for one second. And now he knew Draco's utter ineptitude as a Captain. Bloody perfect.

Weasley nodded. “All clear.”

"Move out," Draco commanded, not a moment too soon for his liking.

They crammed back into the lift. Weasley crushed herself against the wall, as far from Yaxley as possible. Warrington helpfully stood between them, though still not helping bind the Death Eater. Everyone pressed up against Yaxley, and once again Draco thought maybe there was a reason this job normally went to a maximum of three Aurors. They were practically an honor guard.

"How're the wife and kids?" Yaxley asked Nott Sr.

Nott Sr. smiled. "Wife died."

"And the kid is right here!" Theo added grumpily.

Yaxley turned to the Nott boy, his wolfish smile visibly shaking Nott Jr. "Is he now? And a spitting image of his father!" He leaned conspiratorially towards Nott Sr., not bothering to lower his voice. "I'll bet this wasn't what you meant when you thought he'd follow in your footsteps."

Nott Sr. laughed lightly, surprisingly at ease with the imposing prisoner. "Yes, quite the contrary, actually." Yaxley laughed with him.

No one else joined in. Stony silence reigned as the lift jerked through the underground maze of the Ministry. Finally, it ground to a halt.

They stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. Draco exchanged a concerned look with Blaise. Nothing unusual so far. Unfortunately, that only meant they knew to bide their time. Draco wasn't optimistic enough to assume no one would try.

Slytherin Squad encircled Yaxley, escorting him down the long hall.

"Don't think I will forget this day, young Malfoy," Yaxley intoned imperiously, still looking straight ahead. "Or how easily you betray your own kind."

Draco clenched his jaw. "You have more to worry about than me, right now."

Yaxley turned, then. "Do I? I hear the Ministry no longer employs Dementors. What sting awaits me--boredom?" The predatory grin returned. "I think not."

"Keep moving, prisoner!" Weasley ordered with a tone that brooked no nonsense. Draco could have hugged her. He couldn't take many more of Yaxley's foreboding taunts.

Yaxley chuckled, but kept walking. "You think yourself so impervious, little runt, with your family's newfound fame."

Weasley laughed. "Oh no I don't. I'm looking at where feeling impervious lands you. And let me tell you, it's less than appealing."

Yaxley's grin didn't waver, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

They reached the end of the hall.  The Aurors on guard obligingly opened the thick doors as the squad stepped through, out under the piercing scrutiny of--

A piece of Draco died. Out under the scrutiny of hundreds. Up above them, Witches and wizards packed every available seat in the stands of the sentencing room. And every one of them stared down at their approaching prisoner. Apparently Yaxley hadn't made many friends during his stint at the Ministry.

Draco swallowed nervously. Sooner or later the multitude would realize who exactly escorted the hated prisoner, and how extremely ironic it was.

As they walked across the open circle of floor at the bottom, the whispers started. Thankfully, Draco was too far away to make them out, but he could imagine well enough. Memories of his trial in this very spot sprang to mind unbidden. The same bloodthirsty crowds had watched like sport, dismayed at the merciful sentencing.

Well-practiced masks hid his teammate’s emotions, but he knew they were remembering their own trials, under this same scrutiny. Thankfully, none of them had been as infamous as Yaxley.

The chair wrapped with chains loomed ahead of them. Designed so that steel bit into your arms, reminding you of your impending imprisonment as you tried to plead your innocence. Draco shivered at the memory. Yaxley approached it without concern, seating himself without complaint. As usual, the chains snaked over his arms and legs. Blaise and the others released the spell, and the squad took up their stations around Yaxley. They staggered positions, with every other Auror facing opposite directions. Half faced out towards the crowd, half watched the prisoner's every move. Draco watched Yaxley and the rest of Slytherin Squad anxiously. At his side where he could keep an eye on her, Weasley faced the crowd. Her eyes flicked restlessly, Auror-trained to spot the slightest anomaly.

The crowd finally felt secure enough to yell down their hatred at Yaxley. He made no response. Through everything, his unnerving smirk never wavered.

A gavel banged repeatedly. "Order!" Shacklebolt himself called, to Draco's great relief. "He is on trial for his crimes! His guilt is not yet determined!"

Draco caught Blaise’s eye. His friend watched Yaxley and the squad from across the other side of the semi-circle. Blaise shrugged nearly imperceptibly. Nothing yet.

Shacklebolt continued on to start the trial, but Draco tuned him out, slipping into the Auror zone. All movement was suspect, and his eyes tried to be everywhere at once.

Weasley, next to him still scanning the crowd, scowled fiercely. "I can't believe my whole family showed up."

He couldn't turn to look where she scowled, but trusted it was a funny sight. "They've come to watch the great sport of Death Eater trials? Better seats than a Quidditch match."

"I...may have forgotten to mention my new job assignment to them. On purpose."

Eyes still glued to Yaxley, Draco raised an eyebrow. "They thought you had this mission all by yourself? Coming to support you?"

"I'd hoped Hermione or Harry would have broken the news for me, but nope! They're all there, looking scandalized."

Despite himself, a chuckle escaped. "Sounds like the after party will be even more entertaining than the show."

"You have no idea," she muttered darkly.

Movement to the side yanked Weasley's attention from the crowd. "What's he doing?" she whispered urgently. "What's Goyle doing?"

Draco chanced a look. Goyle was doing exactly as Draco had told him--casting Alohamora repeatedly under his breath. "Let it go, Weasley, it's not what you think."

She twisted towards him in shocked anger. "Not what I--?!" And cut off abruptly. "Goyle's your bait. You think there's a traitor."

Internally surprised at how quickly she caught on, he nodded grimly. "Best I could come up with on short notice."

She immediately turned back to the crowd, typical Auror stance resumed. "Top suspects?" she whispered, scarily focused.

With no other options, Draco answered her honestly. "Macnair. He's always liked public spectacle. And you saw Nott Sr. in the lift."

"I'd be surprised if Nott would play his hand so openly."

He grimaced again. "I doubt he'd think that was open."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the realization dawn. The inevitable next question followed. "He expects the squad to help him?"

Draco let out a breath. "Not if we can stop him in time."

With a determined nod, she continued scrutinizing the crowd.

Draco couldn't let himself think about how much damning evidence he'd just given the Weasel. That was tomorrow's hurdle. Right now, he just needed to make it to tomorrow.

"And do you admit to falsely accusing Muggleborns of stealing magic from pure-bloods?" Shacklebolt asked the prisoner, looking down from atop his towering podium. "And punishing them accordingly?"

Yaxley's smile remained strong. "I admit to everything you think I did. Although I wouldn't say it was 'falsely'."

Macnair leaned forward, drawing Draco's attention. "What are you doing, you moron?" the mustached man whispered to Goyle, "Not yet!"

Draco's wand shot forward. "Expelliarmus." Macnair's wand flew to Draco. A long second passed while Macnair stared in shock, sizing up the situation.

Up above, Shacklebolt cried out as a Stunner hit him from behind. Macnair seized the distraction, snatching Goyle's wand. "Reducto!" he yelled. Yaxley's chains exploded, ripping free.

Pandemonium exploded in the stands. Cloaked figures ran amongst the spectators, firing curses indiscriminately. Draco couldn't tell how many. Too many.

In the confusion, Yaxley ran.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Draco cursed at his back. He dropped instantly.

"Get him!" Weasley yelled. "I'll cover you!" Light flashed as cloaked figures traded spells with the girl. Defiantly, she held her ground.

Macnair snarled over Yaxley's fallen form. "Expulso!"

Draco barely rolled in time.

Macnair grabbed Yaxley's arm, raising his wand in an all-too-familiar starting form for Apparition. "BLAISE! Wards! They’re Apparating!" Draco screamed with everything in him. No options left, he rushed the pair. "Confringo!"

Macnair blocked Draco’s blast, still holding Yaxley. "Crucio!"

The spell hit, the pain dropping Draco instantly. Every ounce of will in him fought to simply hold his wand.

Macnair smiled viciously. "Look how great the Captain is now. Destroyed by his own team."

Draco twisted in agony. He couldn't see Blaise, but most of the team barely bothered fighting back at all. Astoria pressed against the wall, maintaining a shield on herself. Warrington fought, surprisingly--

"Crucio."

Draco nearly blacked out. He screamed, muscles spasmed, flinging his wand Merlin knew where.

"Reducto!" someone behind him yelled. Macnair dodged, dropping the curse. Gasping, Draco rolled to his side, focusing on breathing. As he clutched his stomach, his fingers brushed something unexpected--Macnair's wand.

A gong sounded, loud and dissonant. Macnair grabbed Yaxley again, ready to Apparate. A puff of smoke issued from his wand, but nothing more. Still barely lucid, Draco smiled to himself. Good job, Blaise. He’d gotten the Anti-Apparition wards up in time. Having a Charms Expert came in extremely handy.

Fury contorted Macnair's face. "Drop Zabini!" he screeched, pointing at Blaise. "Drop him NOW!"

As one, the robed figures fired on his command. Blaise blocked the first jets of light. But two bolts slipped through, blasting him square in the chest. Blaise crumpled.

Holding Yaxley, Macnair raised his wand high and proud. With the last of his strength, Draco whispered a Strike Spell. His aim true, Yaxley's body flung out of Macnair's grasp. A surprised Macnair Apparated away empty-handed. Blood sprayed as he vanished. Draco hoped Macnair had splinched himself.

A vaguely familiar face rushed to him. "Malfoy! Malfoy, look at me! Are you hurt?" With blood matted across the side of her head, Weasley looked barely recognizable. She peered down at her captain with concern.

Coughing, Draco rolled to his knees. "I'm fine," he lied. "Help Blaise."

"Daphne Apparated him to St. Mungo’s. No one else is injured severely." She paused. "Can you stand?"

"Yes, I can bloody well stand," he snapped. Every muscle screamed in protest as he heaved to his feet.

Draco surveyed the trial. The chained chair smoldered, spots of fire flared amongst the panicking crowds, and his squad scattered aimlessly across the floor of the room. The Auror guards swarmed Yaxley's body, hauling him back to the cell.

"Astoria!" he yelled at the useless girl who dared call herself an Auror. "Get up there and put out those fires!"

She looked at her Captain in terror. With a shake of her head, she Disapparated.

Draco swore viciously. He couldn't see either Nott, and Goyle leaned heavily against the far wall. "Warrington! Where are you?"

The older blonde jogged over. "Right here, Captain."

"Put out the fires," Draco wheezed. Warrington nodded, Apparating up into the stands. Draco's ribs ached. Macnair must have hated him more than he'd imagined to make the spell so potent.

To complete his fantastic day, the last person in the world he wanted to see marched straight towards him, fury spotting his ugly freckled face. "The hell was that, Malfoy?!" Ron Weasley bellowed in Draco's face. "You call that an Auror squad?! You nearly killed my sister!"

"I call that a traitor," Draco snapped. "Look it up if you don't know the word."

More red splotches exploded across the Weasel King's face. "One traitor in a squad of ten! Ten pathetic excuses for Aurors, less than half of which even bothered to raise their wands!"

At his side, Ginny frowned. "Ron, stop it--"

Draco cut off his Lieutenant. "Where were you, oh Dark Wizard Catcher?" he sneered. "Too busy counting Slytherins to raise your own bloody wand?"

"I was stuck in the stands by your bloody Anti-Apparition spell!"

"My bloody Anti-Apparition spell is the only thing that kept Yaxley here!"

Ron turned apoplectic. "Good job keeping the Death Eater we'd already caught!"

"STOP IT! Both of you!" Ginny fiercely interrupted. "Ron, argue this tomorrow. It's not the time."

He turned his fury on his sister. "Ginny, you saw--"

"Tomorrow, Ron!" The blood dripping down the side of her head added to her ferocity. "Go home before I make you."

"No! He's a bloody--"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," her voice became dangerously calm. "I am an Auror, and you are impeding my duty. Stand aside before I legally imprison you."

With a snarl and a pop, Ron Apparated away.

"Charming brother you have, really."

"Shut it, Malfoy." Something over his shoulder caught Ginny’s attention. Her ferocity melted. "Oh no. Brace yourself."

Draco didn't want to find out what could be worse than Death Eaters and an insane Weasley. Unfortunately, his wish went unanswered.

Reporters thronged around the Captain and Lieutenant, shoving Quick-Quotes-Quills in their faces, camera lights exploding everywhere. Draco winced, regretting every decision he'd ever made that even remotely led to this point in his life.

"We will take three questions and three questions only," Ginny offered magnanimously. Three too many for Draco's taste. "And the next person to flash a light in our battle-blinded eyes will be hexed." The reporters chuckled nervously, but no one challenged it. They could tell she wasn't kidding.

She pointed at a wizard in lime green robes. "Uh, I think I speak for all of us when I ask: what happened back there?"

Weasley turned expectantly towards Draco. He swore internally. Pain did not help his always-lacking eloquence. "We had a traitor. Walden Macnair tried to kill us and free Yaxley." They waited for more, but Draco wasn't about to utter a syllable more than necessary.

Fortunately, Weasley picked up the slack. "This is a first for Slytherin Squad, but unfortunately not for Aurors. The proper protocols are being carried out as we speak."

Were they? Draco couldn't remember issuing any orders to that effect. On second thought, he couldn't even remember the proper orders.

The lime green wizard continued. "Wasn't Walden Macnair previously sentenced--?"

"Next question," Weasley cut him off, pointing to a short witch.

The witch shifted her Quick-Quotes-Quill closer. "Ginevra Weasley, as one of the heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts, what brings you to this infamous team full of near-convicts and failed missions?"

Weasley raised an eyebrow. "Exactly what you said. The team needed diversity desperately, and as I am not a convict and rarely fail missions, I qualified. Last question." She pointed to a gangly wizard in the back.

He cleared his throat. "What do you and Auror Malfoy plan to do following this fiasco?"

Again, Weasley turned to him. He stared tight-lipped over the crowd. That was the question he kept asking himself, and he'd be damned if he had a decent answer.

With a barely audible sigh, Weasley faced the reporters herself. "We'd be lying if we said today wasn't a fiasco. But this team is far from done. They're a diamond in the rough, and Auror Malfoy and I are working on shaping them into something more."

He sensed a perfect publicity moment slipping by, and forced himself to say something. "It will take time and hard work, but I--we," he amended, "have complete faith that Slytherin Squad can pull through and become a fully functioning Auror team."

Weasley couldn't hide her wince as they walked away. Once the reporters were out of earshot, she added, "You just implied that they're not a functioning Auror team right now."

"Bugger it all," Draco swore, "anyone with two eyes can see that. Probably only takes one."

She thought it over. "Actually, that might be brilliantly perfect. Brutal honesty from the one they expect to lie about his darling squad." She grinned. "Good call."

Draco saw no need to correct her idea of his clever plot. Then he remembered. "I need to check on Blaise." He accioed his wand, the familiar hawthorn wood instantly calming him. He raised it to Apparate, but the violent shaking of his hand distracted him.

Weasley let out a sigh. "You fought well, Malfoy, but it's not smart after the Cruciatus. You'll splinch yourself."

"Do you have a better idea, Weasley?" he snapped. "My best friend could be dying."

"I was going to offer to Side-Along Apparate you. I don't think I'm as bad off." She stared levelly at him.

"Oh." He dropped his wand down, still staring at his shaking hand. "I--" The words hurt coming out, but luckily only his pride. "I would appreciate that."

She gave a quick nod. Grabbing his shoulder, they were off.

Witches and wizards streamed in and out of St. Mungo's Apparition point. Draco shoved his way through the crowd to the main desk. "Blaise Zabini," he asked desperately. "Which room is he in?"

The witch behind the desk forced a smile. "Just a moment." Lazily, she flicked through the parchments stacked on her desk. Draco drummed his fingers impatiently.

After what seemed a lifetime, she looked back up. "I'm sorry, we don't seem to have anyone here by that name." The task completed, she resumed her magazine.

Draco snarled. "You pathetic, worthless--"

"What about Auror Emergencies?" Ginny cut in. "Do you have any new arrivals there?"

The useless witch stared up at the ceiling, frowning in thought. "I think we did, rushed him off right quick. Might have been a--"

Weasley grabbed Draco's sleeve, tugging him away. "Come on, I know where that section is."

Two floors up and a whole wing over, she led them straight there. Other than the giant sign, Draco knew they were in the right place when he spotted Daphne slumped in a chair in the hallway.

She spotted them, jumping to her feet and running towards him. Daphne swung a fist at his head. He barely caught it.

"It was the Bone-Breaking Hex," she hissed, swinging again. Draco dodged. "Blaise got hit with the Bone," she punctuated each word with a swing, "Breaking. Hex. In the CHEST!" The last punch connected with Draco's face, knocking him back.

Face contorted in fury, she tried again. Draco caught her fist, not releasing it. Daphne swung with her left, but he caught that as well. She struggled vainly before collapsing against his chest, sobbing. Her fists thumped harmlessly against him. "Why, Draco?" was the only articulate thing she managed before collapsing into sobs again.

Slowly, Draco released her fists, wrapping his arms around her. "How bad?" he whispered hoarsely.

Daphne shook her head violently. "If I hadn't...if I'd been a moment later he'd be dead."

Not dead yet, Draco noted, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Daphne. I don't think I can ever repay you."

She looked up at him with eyes filled with hate. "Don't you dare cheapen it by trying."

Draco held her close for a long moment. It was rare indeed for him to find solace in personal contact. He let her go. "Can I see him?"

Daphne shook her head, frantically wiping the tears from her face. "He's resting. They have some intense potions at work right now."

With nothing else to say, Draco simply led her back over to the waiting chairs. Daphne leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. Draco didn’t mind much. He’d never had a sister, but he always imagined she’d be a lot like Daphne.

A minute later, Weasley returned. Draco hadn’t even noticed she’d left. Or remembered she’d come with, if he were being honest. With a small smile, she handed Daphne and him each a cup of tea. Draco instantly felt bad about forgetting her--the tea was delicious. She dropped into the chair on the other side of him.

“Helping the only way you knew how?” he asked lightly, taking a sip of his marvelous tea.

Weasley shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah. I don’t want to intrude. But I did manage to get this.” She handed him a sheet of paper filled with medical jargon. “I remembered that they disclose information to ranking officers.”

Draco’s heart clenched. This was Blaise’s form. He read it, horror growing at every line. “Every rib?” he asked in astonishment.

Weasley nodded. “Punctured all the surrounding organs with the bone shards.”

Daphne looked up at that. “They just told me it was bad,” she whispered.

“It is,” Draco replied. He and Daphne picked through every shred of information the report held.

 Awkwardly, Weasley got to her feet. “Umm, I’m going to head out. Unless you need anything?”

Daphne raised an eyebrow. “We can take care of ourselves, thanks,” she snapped.

The redhead threw her hands up. “Pardon me for asking! Just tell Blaise I said hi.” She Disapparated.

Draco looked down at the cup of delicious tea, sorely needed report, and realized he probably wouldn’t have even made it here without the Weasel. He shoved the guilt aside, and settled in for the long wait.

Ginny Apparated back to her flat, hoping to throw ice on her aching head and call it a night. Unfortunately, her family had other plans. Her small flat barely contained the sea of redheads.

Hermione immediately accosted her, forcing Ginny to hold still while she swept her with diagnostic spells. A tap of Hermione’s wand, and her head felt much better. “Well, the head wound wasn’t serious--” Hermione announced.

“I would have handled it if it were!” Ginny couldn’t help interjecting.

“--but it doesn’t seem to have knocked any sense into her.” Her best friend folded her arms in her best intimidating manner.

“Slytherins, Ginny?” Fred asked.

“They didn’t have any open jobs in the waste retrieval departments?” George added.

“What I want to know,” Mrs. Weasley fumed, “is how they think it’s safe to put my daughter in these ridiculously dangerous situations!”

“Because she’s an Auror,” Harry, Hermione, and Ginny responded with long-suffering patience. Every time, you’d think it was the first time Molly Weasley heard it.

The matron responded with finality, “Still! They shouldn’t be doing it.”

The group continued venting their opinions, more at each other by this point. Ginny locked eyes with Bill over the din. Apparently they’d thought it worth the trouble to call him in, which said something in and of itself. Charlie, Percy, and surprisingly, Ron, seemed to be missing. This suited Ginny just fine.

“I’m sorry,” she finally intruded. Thankfully, they fell quiet. “But I didn’t really ask for an intervention right now. And, as you might have noticed, I’ve had a rather long day. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to go to sleep, like I’d planned.” She headed for her room. “Goodnight!”

“Ginny,” Harry grabbed her arm as she passed. “Please don’t feel like you’re forced to do this. I can get you a position in any of the other squads. Literally any of them, Ginny.”

Hermione nodded agreement. “Shacklebolt kept the whole thing under wraps, some sort of secret project. Silly me, stupid enough to let him!” She sent a reassuring smile Ginny’s way. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll clear it all up tomorrow morning.”

Ginny clutched her head, the ache returning. “Just stop it!” she yelled. “I don’t need all of you interfering! I can fight my own bloody battles!” She turned to Harry and Hermione. “Everything just got a whole lot more complicated for me. The last thing I need is you two sticking your fingers in right now!”

“Ginny--” Hermione offered with a concerned face.

“No!” Ginny snapped. “Please, just leave! I don’t want to get mad at all of you, but I’m really not up for dealing with this right now!” She stomped into her room, slamming the door behind her. When she opened it again, her flat stood empty. For some reason, it made her sad.

Ginny Weasley had seen Draco Malfoy in many moods, most of them bad, but resigned was one she doubted she'd get used to.

Gathered in the lounge of their Training Room sat Goyle, Warrington, Malfoy, and herself. The empty chairs loomed ominously, dwarfing the remnant of the team.

"What was the purpose of this meeting?" she asked said Captain.

Malfoy shrugged carelessly. "Just wanted to see who would come." He jotted something on the eternal clipboard.

"Daphne's at the hospital with Blaise," she had to add.

Malfoy looked levelly at her from over the clipboard. "I am well aware of this." He resumed writing.

Warrington turned to Ginny. His usually terrifying face cracked with a grin. "Weasley, I didn't know you could fight like that!"

The complement caught her completely off guard. "Oh. Thank you?"

His grin widened. "This little firecracker kept two Death Eaters off your back, Draco, did you know that?" The Captain didn't bother to look up. Warrington chuckled and continued. "Would have had a clean bill of health too, if she hadn't taken a hex to save your sorry ass from the Cruciatus."

Ginny ducked her head to hide her embarrassment. It was bad enough when you took a hex for a teammate who liked you.

Malfoy looked up at that. His face remained unreadable. "You saw all this?"

Warrington shrugged. "Saw most, Astoria saw the rest. Still, bloody wicked fight!"

Instantly, Draco grimaced. "Speaking of Astoria," he said, "I received this eloquent owl from her today."

Even from a few feet away, Ginny read the whole letter with ease.

Draco,

I quit.

Astoria

"Wow," Ginny said. "It just leaves so much to the imagination."

Draco snorted and continued working.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Warrington leaned over to Goyle. "Did you see the Puddlemere game on Saturday?"

Goyle nodded vigorously. "Yeah! Bloody awful match though."

Ginny couldn't help herself. "Wait just a second! They did pretty well for being down two starting Chasers!"

"They still lost," Warrington responded, incredulous that she'd missed the blindly obvious.

"Yes, but did you hear about Wood's Starfish and a Stick? That would have been worth the price of admission right there."

Warrington raised an eyebrow. "Wasn’t nearly as impressive in person. Nearly sent himself through the hoops. You're just partial to your own Team Captain."

Ginny shrugged. "Can I help it if Gryffindor puts out excellent Quidditch players?"

Malfoy stood abruptly, and conversation stopped. "I have a meeting. You're all free to do what you want with the rest of your day." He stalked out.

Ginny jogged up to him walking down the hall. "So who wants to skin us alive now?"

Malfoy glared at her. "Not us. Just me."

She didn't miss a step. "Who?"

"Who doesn't? But for all I know, this one is Potter, Granger, and Shacklebolt."

"Seriously? And you don't want me with you?"

He rounded on her. "I don't need you holding my hand to run my team properly."

She raised an eyebrow. "Meetings aren't for running teams. They're for playing dumb political games."

"This isn't even about you," he growled. "This is about how everything I've tried to do here has failed. They just want to flay me publicly and put someone else in my place."

Ginny looked smug. "Not true."

"What?" he snapped.

She simply shrugged. "Not everything you've tried to do has failed."

Massaging the bridge of his nose, Malfoy sounded pained as he asked, "Please enlighten me, Weasley."

"You've successfully integrated Slytherin Squad."

He took a moment to fully process her words. Then shook his head slowly with a hint of a grin. "It really says something about my life if that's my success."

Ginny smiled. "Why, cause you tried your hardest to stop it?"

Amusement and confusion fought for control of his face. "Come on, Weasley. If you're so eager to be verbally flayed, who am I to stop you?"

The small meeting room held just a simple table. Hermione, Harry, and Shacklebolt faced them from across it.

"Ginny!" Hermione greeted her with shock. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Is it?" Ginny replied evenly, taking a seat next to Malfoy. "I thought Lieutenants normally supported their Captains?"

Harry made a strangled, gagging sound, and she was pretty sure Malfoy had done the same.

Shacklebolt couldn't hide his grin. "Be that as it may, we have important matters to discuss. Namely, Walden Macnair, and what the hell happened yesterday."

Ginny sighed. "Well, that's at least partly my fault."

Everyone turned to her incredulously. "How the bloody hell is that?" Harry asked, looking pained by the entire conversation.

"I knew Yaxley would make a break for it with this team guarding him. I thought it would be fantastic press for the Slytherin Squad to stop him."

"That's not what bothers me," Kingsley replied slowly. "Your squad should have been able to handle that. What bothers me is that three of your number Disapparated from battle, and one of them fought for the wrong side."

It was Draco's turn now, and all eyes turned to him. "I haven't finished training them," he answered lamely.

"Don't give me that!" Harry leaned across the table. "If any other Auror pulled that Disapparating stunt, they'd be court martialed on the spot! Yet I haven't seen you file the forms, Malfoy." Harry's eyes blazed in anger.

"I fail to see how my team's discipline concerns any of you," the Slytherin replied with a sneer.

"Malfoy," Hermione explained like he was a child, "setting a bad example with your squad ruins it for other squads as well. They will be surprised that we court martial them, when Slytherin Squad got away with so much more. We can't have a special set of rules just for you and your squad. It’s a court martialing offense."

The stony silence stretched on as Malfoy's face contorted further and further with anger. He'll lose the squad with a public trial, Ginny abruptly realized. No one would go back out with the shadow of three court-martials hanging over their team.

The youngest Weasley cleared her throat. "Could I speak to my Captain? For just a moment?"

The three commanding officers nodded. Malfoy turned eyes filled with hate on her, but followed her out into the hall. The moment the door closed, he rounded on her. "Trying to rein me in, Weasley?" he sneered. "Going to use the simple fact that you helped to try to lure me over to Granger's side? Well I have news for you." He lowered his face dangerously close to hers. "I'm not about to roll over and play dead just yet. And certainly not just because my Lieutenant told me to."

A frustrated scream exploded out of her. Malfoy backed away in surprise. She couldn't take much more of this without killing someone--preferably him. "Malfoy, would you bloody listen to me without assuming I'm out to get you? I'm on your bloody side! And if you do what they want you to, it won't be long before you're discharged from the Aurors!" Her angry breath came in short gasps. "I'd bet you a hundred galleons it'd take less than a year."

His face remained carefully impassive. "Speak."

She gave him a nasty smile. "Thank you kindly. It’s not much, but you can definitely save Astoria, hopefully even the Notts later.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “Astoria quit.”

“Right,” Ginny smiled patronizingly. “Fortunately, she made it through the whole battle before quitting. She just had battle fright. To which dishonorable discharge has always been the solution.”

His eyes widened at that. “And the Notts?”

She shrugged helplessly. “You’ll have to court-martial them. For all we know, they could have been two of the ones under the black robes.”

“I fail to see how that saves them.”

“Well, we don’t know what happened. So, legally, there’s nothing to court-martial. As long as they stay happily disappeared, it’s just a pending trial upon locating them.”

“Which should satisfy Potter, Shacklebolt, and Granger,” he added, happiness visibly returning, “without scaring off more of the team.”

Ginny nodded. “And hopefully, by the time we find them, we’ll have more to accuse them of than simply fleeing from battle.”

“And how do you believe they would discharge me?” Malfoy asked, and she heard the tight control he exerted to keep his tone level.

Ginny sighed, massaging her temple. “I assumed you already knew that part. All it takes is two more leaving and the squad’s under five members, too small to be officially a squad. It would be disbanded, the members distributed to other standing squads.” She met his eyes sadly. “How many insults would it take for the ex-Captain to crack, to hex a new teammate? Even fewer, I’d imagine, before he’d be labeled ‘disruptive to the working environment’.”

Malfoy looked away, not meeting her eyes. “I’ve been through worse.”

“Your first year here, before Slytherin Squad?” she asked, and he nodded sharply. “Let me guess, they insulted your father, your mother, your family name, your Death Eater friends, and your lack of practice with any non-Dark battle magic?”

He waited for the other shoe to fall. “Among other things.”

“Tell me how you’d handle them talking about Blaise crumpling like a rag doll, or the funny little squelching sound he made when his body hit bonelessly against the ground.”

Murderous intent filled his face. “They wouldn’t DARE--!” He cut off as the realization hit. Continuing in a stunned whisper, he breathed, “I’d last less than a month.”

Ginny nodded with understanding.

“Come on, Weasley,” he said, voice gruff. “Let’s give them what they want.”

The Captain and Lieutenant filed back in, sitting composedly in their seats.

“I will file a court-martial for Theodore Nott Sr. and Jr,” Draco said, voice unreadable. “And Astoria Greengrass will be dishonorably discharged for her unwillingness to follow orders in battle.”

Potter frowned, about to object, when Granger shook her head. “No, Malfoy’s right, that’s the proper protocol. Although I am curious, what do you mean by ‘file’ a court-martial?”

The Slytherin shrugged. “They are not here to court-martial at the moment, so the actual trial will have to wait until they are.”

Shacklebolt looked at him strangely. “And you’re doing everything in your power to contact them?”

“Of course,” Draco lied.

Shacklebolt nodded, looking vaguely appeased. “Then. Walden Macnair. What can you tell us that we don’t already know?”

“I never knew him that well,” Draco admitted. “Richard Murstow was friends with him back in school, and recruited him. I never questioned that recruitment.”

“Maybe now’s a good time to start,” Harry chimed in.

Weasley rolled her eyes. “Yes, obviously, Harry. Thanks for that.”

Draco looked at her in astonishment. The girl diffused that situation effortlessly. In fact, he doubted she’d known it had even been a situation! Reluctantly, he realized he couldn’t afford to talk to Potter without her around.

“Is there anyone else who’s recruitment we should question, Malfoy?” Granger asked.

Draco sighed. “Nott Sr. Everyone else should be fine, though.”

“Fine?” Potter snapped. “We need Aurors who are better than ‘fine’.”

“Maybe you’re used to different standards,” Draco lost it at the self-righteous bastard, “but these people fight an uphill battle every day just to show up to work. The only thing I’m going to fault them for is not bloody trying!”

“And they are trying,” Weasley added quietly. “Those that are left, that is. If anyone says Blaise, Daphne, Goyle or Warrington isn’t trying, I’ll personally hex the idiot who thinks it.” Granger looked shocked at that, but Weasley continued. “As it stands, it’s still enough members for an Auror Squad, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

Potter’s eyes narrowed. “I looked at the records of the events. Goyle was trying, as you say, to free Yaxley before Macnair even started.”

“Because I ordered him to.” Draco barely kept himself from yelling. “Goyle was the bloody bait that lured Macnair into the open!”

“It’s probably the main reason an ill-prepared squad of six could hang on to Yaxley despite all that went down.” Weasley's temper rose as she spoke. It pleased Draco endlessly. “So tell me again how Goyle wasn’t trying? You’ll recall that he fought the Death Eaters afterwards. Or were you conveniently forgetting that?”

“Ginny,” Granger started warningly, but changed tactics. “Be that as it may, we still have Walden Macnair and his accomplices to catch. Malfoy, you’ll owl his file over as soon as possible, and aid the squad pursuing him in any way?”

“Of course,” he responded honestly.

Granger nodded. “Good. Then if there’s anything you want to add, Minster?”

Shacklebolt shook his head. “The less I interfere, the better. Keep doing your jobs, and we’ll get this sorted out eventually. I have faith in all of you.”

Potter and Granger looked skeptically at one member of the room in particular. Draco flashed them his sweetest smile.

Ginny marched out of the meeting, coincidentally heading the same direction as Malfoy.

“How bad was that?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I expected worse.” Malfoy gave her an oddly evaluating look. “Why haven’t you given up on us yet? After this Yaxley fiasco?”

The answer really was simple. “Because half of you fought back, and fought hard. No one else seems to even see that, and it’s ridiculously unfair.” She gave him a sideways look. “What’s your excuse for making this squad anyway? I’ve heard it from others, but never from you.”

“I bet the way they told it was far from flattering.” Malfoy sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He owed her honesty--that much was inescapable. “Too many Slytherins supported Voldemort. Most that I know just did it because it was...assumed. The prejudice against us now is well-earned; you won’t see me denying that.” He looked off to the side as his voice turned raw. “I’m just not willing to settle for it. When the next Dark Lord comes around, I want people to be surprised when a Slytherin gives up their own ambitions to follow him.”

“As much as they would at a Hufflepuff deserting to join, a Gryffindor taking the easy way out, or a Ravenclaw supporting ‘might makes right’?” Ginny asked.

Slowly, Malfoy turned back to evaluate the strange creature walking next to him. He nodded deliberately, still studying her.

Ginny grinned. “So that someday, there are brave Slytherins instead of just cunning Gryffindors?”

“What?” Confusion painted his face. He thought she’d understood, but…

The redhead just shrugged. “You can’t tell me that my twin brothers shouldn’t have been offered Slytherin. But it’s too... dark for anyone like them to ever be welcomed. So you’ll never get anyone truly brave and good, no matter how cunning they are.”

His mouth twisted wryly. “The twins in Slytherin. I tremble at the thought.”

Ginny frowned. “That’s not what you meant, then?”

“No, that’s what I meant. More than I meant, actually.” Malfoy added, more softly, “And I doubt I’d be brave or good enough to welcome them.”

Seeing the more serious side of Malfoy weirded her out, like seeing a fish swimming up a rainbow. “Hey,” she grinned, attempting to lighten the mood. “At least you could be bribed into welcoming me. Baby steps, right?”

He gave her a look of horror. “Welcoming you is the last step. I can’t think of anyone more repulsive to have to work alongside.”

Shocked and hurt, Ginny turned away, keeping her eyes forward. “Sorry I asked,” she bit out.

“Weasley,” Malfoy chuckled. “That was meant as a joke. I thought it was obvious that you’re not repulsive. You’ve only saved me, oh, five times since yesterday?”

Slowly, she turned back to him. Amusement and sincerity painted across his face. “How’s your head?” he added, referring to one of the five.

Ginny laughed awkwardly. “I said I’d have your back. It’s fine anyway; Hermione’s a whiz at healing spells.”

He stared quizzically at her. “That’s so...Gryffindor of you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“It wasn’t meant as one.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“Weasley--” he started, but she interrupted him.

“Ginny.”

Malfoy looked at her in surprise. “What?”

“My name is Ginny. It won’t bite you.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Literally every member of my family and all of my friends are furious at me for even being on your squad. The least you can do is act like you don’t find my very presence repulsive.”

A smile quirked the corners of his lips. “Ginny. You’re right, it hasn’t killed me yet. This also solves my problem of differentiating you from that contemptible older brother of yours.”

Ginny frowned. “Ron’s not--” She cut off at Malfoy’s glare, throwing her hands up. “Not going to argue the point with you!”

He chuckled. “Thank heavens above.”

They walked in comfortable silence. Moments passed, and Malfoy added, “It’s Draco, by the way.”

“Draco,” Ginny tested it out. Then shuddered. “Merlin, that just might kill me.”

He chuckled amiably, and they parted ways at the next turn.

Draco Apparated home to Malfoy Manor, stress instantly lessening at the familiar sight. The house was large enough that Draco and his mother often went days without seeing each other. It came as a shock, then, when he found her waiting in the front parlor.

“Mother?” he asked, instantly processing the worst-case scenarios. “What happened? Is there news from Blaise?”

Narcissa Malfoy shook her head, perfect blond hair swishing slightly. “No. Daphne told me he’s still healing, but stable. You have a visitor.”

Curious, he walked past his mother, into the rest of the room. Goyle, of all people, sat shivering on his couch, clutching a steaming cup of tea.

It couldn’t be good news, and Draco instantly tensed, waiting for the worst. “Goyle?” he asked, dropping into the nearest armchair. “What’s happened?”

“There was a curse on my doorknob,” the other man managed through shivers. “I barely touched it, but it still hurts like crazy. Don't know what would have happened if I'd gotten the whole thing.”

“Don’t worry, Draco,” Narcissa smiled graciously. “I’m taking good care of him.” She pointed discreetly to Goyle, and mouthed: the tea. Draco understood. They had powerful anti-Dark Magic potions back from...the good old days. Just in case the Dark Lord was more disapproving than usual.

“Did you already Floo the others?” Draco asked.

Goyle nodded. “Warrington dismantled his curse, and Daphne’ll look out for it when she gets home from the hospital.”

“Astoria too?”

Goyle nodded again. “She didn’t find anything though.”

Tension drained out of the Captain. Having competent subordinates ranked high on Draco’s List of Favorite Things.

Suddenly, a terrible thought hit him. He dreaded asking, as he could well guess the answer. “Goyle, did you contact Weasley?”

Goyle looked at him in confusion. “Of course not. Don’t even know her Floo.”

Swearing, Draco leapt for his own fireplace. He tossed a handful of the powder in. “Ginny Weasley!” Nothing happened. He tried again. “Ginevra Weasley!” Still nothing. Frantically, he thought of the one person he could bet would still be at work. “Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Emergency Code 6215!”

Granger’s head appeared in the flames. “Malfoy? This had better be good.”

“Is there a code for Ginny Weasley’s Floo? I can’t get ahold of her.” Desperation showed in his voice; he couldn’t spare the time to hide it.

Granger shook her head, worry lines forming. “Ginny’s off the Floo network. She has a flat in Muggle London.”

Muggle London. The absolute worst place Draco could imagine, lacking any sort of protective wards whatsoever. “Where is it? I need to find her immediately.”

Granger frowned. “I’m not sure I should--”

“Emergency code 6215!” Draco repeated, yelling.

Realization dawned, and Granger quickly scrawled an address on a scrap of paper, shoving it at him through the fire.

Without bothering to sever the connection, Draco focused on the meaningless words written there, hoping it was enough of a destination. With a crack, he was off.

He appeared outside a tall building, with stairs leading up to different floors. He cringed at the mass housing, but looked back at the paper. #25, it read. The doors on the first floor all seemed to start with one. Hurriedly, he climbed the nearest stairs. The door read 21.

A crack sounded beside him. Granger scanned the surroundings, wand at the ready. “What’s going on, Malfoy?”

“No time,” he snapped. “Which door?”

Granger pointed towards the end, and he followed her lead. She stopped at number 25. Draco motioned her back, holding his wand up to the doorknob. The cold of nearby Dark Magic crept up his arm. “Definitely hexed. Find Weasley.”

But his breath was wasted. Heading up towards them on the nearer stairs was Ginny herself. Draco relaxed.

Someone stepped out of a doorway off to the side. Draco ignored the Muggle. A second later, his brain processed that Muggles didn’t raise wands.

“Stupefy!” he yelled at the stranger. It missed, but the man ducked inside for cover.

And Draco saw it. More shapes, in different doorways, all converging on the same point.

Granger would figure it out. He took off at a run. Barreling down the stairs, he slammed into Ginny.

“Draco--?” she asked in confusion.

No time to explain, he Disapparated to the only safe place he could think of.

Ginny coughed violently, the unexpected Apparition making her want to vomit. Disoriented, she tried to take in her surroundings. Every inch of the room seemed designed to flaunt the wealth of the owners. Lush green furniture surrounded her, complete with dark wood and a vaulted cathedral ceiling. She didn’t recognize the place, but boy was it gorgeous.

Draco awkwardly brushed himself off from their encounter. “There was a hex on your door. Don’t know if you noticed, but I’m pretty sure it was also a Death Eater ambush. I saw at least three.”

Now she did feel sick. She hadn’t noticed, not at all. So much for constant vigilance, she inwardly berated herself.

“Malfoy?!” the fireplace screeched. “Malfoy, what have you done with Ginny? Is she safe?”

Draco walked over. “She’s safe. Stop worrying.” He severed the connection.

Finally, she noticed the other occupants of the room, staring at her. Goyle, sitting on the couch, and...a blonde woman who looked remarkably like Draco. Ginny felt like an underdressed insect before that woman’s gaze.

“Was that Hermione?” Ginny asked lamely, avoiding the other question.

Draco nodded. “I had to get your address from her.” He looked at her in puzzlement. “Why don’t you have a Floo?”

Ginny shrugged, feeling the woman’s scrutiny increase. “I don’t have a fireplace?” She looked around again. “Are we...are we in…?”

Draco flushed. “Welcome to Malfoy Manor. This is my mother, Narcissa. Mother, this is Ginevra Weasley, Lieutenant of my squad.”

Narcissa inclined her head by way of greeting. “Can I have the House Elves get you anything, Ginevra?”

Ginny smiled as best she could manage. “Some water would be great, thanks.”

A House Elf nearly instantly handed her a glass.

Her son grimaced. “Sorry, this was the only safe place I could think of.”

Narcissa looked at him oddly. “Draco, why would you apologize for taking her to your home?”

“I didn’t have time to ask,” he replied, flushing again. “It’s not normally polite to ambush someone and Apparate them anywhere, let alone to a place she’s never been, owned by people who have hated her family for years.”

Ginny forced a smile. That summed it up nicely, but she wished the elephant in the room hadn’t been addressed quite so directly.

Narcissa turned to her then, genuine compassion on her face. “How long will you need to be staying?”

Ginny started to reply that it wasn’t necessary, but Draco cut her off. “She’ll be here for the night, undoubtedly. Any longer than that will be up to her.”

She looked at him in shock. “What?”

“You have Death Eaters after you. Likely because you’re the member of the squad they’d least mind seeing dead.” He laid the facts out evenly. “You need to be somewhere with wards and Aurors on hand in case the first fail. Definitely three, possibly more than five, Death Eaters are out there right now, with Macnair to guide them. Where would you rather be?”

“Well, I…” she racked her brain, trying to think of anyone she could stay with who fit the bill. All of the Aurors in her family would have the proper wards, but every one of them was furious with her. And only Harry or Hermione offered truly decent protection, but there was no way in the world she’d reopen that sack of cats so quickly. “A night here would be great,” she concluded awkwardly, hating to impose on the Malfoys, of all people.

Draco nodded as if the solution had been obvious. "Mother, will the fourth floor guest room be a problem?"

Narcissa shook her head. "Not at all. Hopefully it's out of the way enough to give her some privacy, too." She turned to Ginny. "Should I have one of the House Elves Floo over to get your things?"

Draco winced. "It's likely her flat's compromised. I didn't detect enough wards to keep someone determined out."

Ginny never had been good with wards, and only now realized how vulnerable that left her. "I'll be fine with what I have till tomorrow."

Scandalized, Narcissa gaped at the girl. "I won't have that in my house. I'll get you proper things." Happily on a mission, she swept out.

"I'll show you to your room," Draco awkwardly volunteered.

She followed him up four flights of the grand staircase. At the end of the second hallway, he opened a door for her. Ginny nearly gasped. The single room could easily hold her entire flat. If she wasn't mistaken, a gigantic bathroom attached on the left and... Her thoughts derailed as she headed for the most beautiful thing of all.

From the door, Draco chuckled. "A bit bigger than you're used to?"

"A bit," she replied distractedly. One wall was covered in floor to ceiling windows, and a gorgeous balcony. From the fourth floor, the view of the Malfoy grounds was breathtaking. A massive forest stretched across the hills with the glitter of water barely visible off in the distance. "Is that a real lake?"

"Yes," he replied proudly, coming to stand by her elbow. "It's fairly nice in summer, but the Quidditch pitch is my personal favorite."

Ginny's heart melted when she spotted it. "Regulation sized?"

"If we built stands, it could host the World Cup without breaking a rule. Merlin, Ginny, you don't have to drool." He flashed her an amused smile. "Go down and try it out."

"But my broom..." she answered lamely, internally wishing to do just that.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Come on, I'll show you where we keep the brooms."

Who was she to say no?

"I can't believe you built your own Quidditch pitch," she said. The three hoops towered over them as they approached across the lawn.

Draco shrugged. "Why wouldn't we?"

'Expensive' and 'excessive' were the only excuses she could think of, but didn't think Draco would understand either. Besides, she quite liked expensive and excessive when it came to Quidditch.

He opened the locker room, shelves on the walls stacked with Quidditch gear of every kind. Her gawking seemed to please Draco. "Glad someone appreciates quality."

Ginny nodded, touching the leather reverently. She strapped the padding on, taking the Firebolt he offered her. At the sleek wooden handle, she grinned. "Race you to the posts!" she yelled, jumping on. Careening out the narrow door, she shot upwards, spinning happily as she soared through the tallest hoop.

Moments later, Draco tore out of the locker room. She could see his scowl as he flew towards her. "That was cheating, and you knew it."

She grinned. "Yep!" And flipped upside down for good measure. Being back on a broom felt marvelous.

He tossed a quaffle at her, and she caught it upside down, impressing even herself. Not confident enough to throw upside down, she flipped back over before chucking it at his face.

It smacked against his palm as he caught it. "I've heard the rumor that you're a decent Chaser," he drawled.

She grinned. "Oh? Just cause the Holyhead Harpies asked me to try out?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Merlin, Ginny, you turned them down to be an Auror?"

He chucked the ball back at her, and she caught it easily. "Hey, I felt my life's calling was being yelled at by Slytherins. Who was I to say no?"

Shaking his head in amusement, he tucked the quaffle behind him. "I don't know how we'd play with just the two of us..."

"We could trade off defending?"

Draco looked like she'd sprouted a tentacle. "I hate defending."

"Cause you suck at it?" she asked mischievously.

"I do not suck," and, anticipating her reply, he added, "nor do I have to prove it to you."

Ginny sighed dramatically. "You're no fun."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "That I might have to prove." With a jerk of his head, he indicated that she follow as he sped off into the quickly darkening night.

Never one to turn down a challenge, she darted after him in a flash.

He tore off over the trees. With a look back to make sure she followed, he swooped down amongst them.

Ginny dropped instantly. She barely kept sight of him. Swerving frantically through the forest, it took everything she had to stay on his tail. He'd obviously been down this route many times before. Ginny had the disadvantage of picking it up on the fly.

Abruptly, Draco stopped. He grinned as she pulled up next to him. “Perhaps the Quidditch reports weren’t too much of an exaggeration.”

But she saw why he’d stopped. The lake stretched before them, barely catching the last remaining rays of sunlight. Untamed enough to still be wilderness, yet trimmed enough to be habitable, Ginny thought it the epitome of natural beauty.

He hopped off his broom and smirked back at her. “Are you planning to sit up there the whole time?”

She jumped off, setting her broom next to his and followed him out farther. A rock jutted over the lake, the perfect height to dip your feet in from, as Draco slipped his boots off and demonstrated. Happily, she followed suit. The water lapped cool and clean against her toes as she enjoyed the view of the low waterfall on the other side.

“How did you do anything but live out here?” Ginny asked honestly. “This is too beautiful to miss.”

He laughed easily. “I tried, one summer. Only managed to convince Mum that I was going native, and to enroll me in the proper classes for a young gentleman.”

“It’s a shame, it really is,” she shook her head, fighting her grin. “I mean, the classes were obviously wasted anyway. I don’t think anything can fix you.”

“I resent that!” He tried to sound angry but couldn’t quite manage. “I’ll have you know I’m the image of perfection for the proper pure-blooded wizard!”

She couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d wanted to; the moment was just too perfect.

Ginny pushed Draco into the lake.

He toppled over without resistance, utter shock the last thing she saw on his face before he slid under. In retrospect, she realized it might’ve been more than their budding friendship could handle.

Draco resurfaced, spluttering and gasping for air. “Weasley!” he yelled, furiously thrashing. “Get me out of this damned lake!”

Instantly regretting her impulse decision, she grabbed his flailing hand. “I’m so sorry, Draco! I didn’t--”

With a sharp tug, he pulled her tumbling in after.

The water was freezing! Her laughter didn’t help her catch her breath. “I didn’t know you had it in you!”

The Slytherin grinned, treading water easily. “Likewise.”

They flopped up on the sandy shore, both eager to get out of the nearly-frozen water. The night air felt delightfully warm in comparison.

“This is nice,” Ginny commented, mostly to herself. She stretched languidly, lacing her fingers underneath her head. The stars peeked through, and even though they weren't as bright as from the Burrow, she still enjoyed the view.

Draco turned towards her, the small motion making her realize how closely they were lying, how intimate it might seem. He looked back up at the stars. “You don’t have to feel like you’re imposing, to stay longer.”

She waited for him to say more, but nothing followed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she finally responded.

“I take it your family’s still plenty mad at you?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “They would understand a mistake, but can’t begin to comprehend why I’m still on the squad. Harry offered me a job on ‘Literally any other squad, Ginny.’” she said in a perfect imitation of the man.

“The slimy git,” Draco growled.

Lightly, she put a hand on Draco’s arm. “He just wanted to make sure I knew I wasn’t stuck.” At Draco’s shocked look, she removed her offending hand.

He scowled again, but not as harshly. “He didn’t care that it would’ve ruined the squad, to lose the one outside member.”

Ginny shrugged. “He didn’t know. He doesn’t think that far ahead.”

Draco turned on his side, raising an eyebrow at her. “You’re saying he would have cared, had he known?”

As much as she wished it were otherwise, Ginny shook her head. “No, you know him too. I’m just saying to accuse him of the proper crime.”

Draco flopped back, apparently satisfied with that. “Have you spoken with them since?”

“Just Harry and Hermione at the meeting. I know how stubborn my family is, and I see no reason to willingly get lectured for hours.”

“Well, you have one friend who’s not about to lecture you for sticking with the Slytherin Squad.”

“Who’s that, Blaise? I seem to recall a certain Captain doing everything he could to get me to leave.” Ginny hid her shock at his calling her a friend. Inside, it gave her a warm little glow.

Draco raised a finger importantly. “Everything he could short of getting you to leave. There’s a distinction.”

Ginny chuckled darkly. “You have no idea how close I came to leaving after the tea incident.”

He turned to her then, puppy-dog eyes in full effect. “But you make bloody fantastic tea!”

She laughed, swatting him away. “Don’t give me that! Your conniving ways aren’t enough to get your tea privileges reinstated!”

“I didn’t even know you gave out tea privileges! What is required for admittance to this exclusive club?” he asked with playful eagerness. “Speak quickly, woman, I must know!”

Laughing uproariously, she could barely handle the excitement in his face. "Yes, the feats of Hercules are nothing next to the Tea Feats of Ginevra Weasley!"

"Tea Feats of Draco Malfoy," he corrected. "Unless you're going to do them for me, then by all means go ahead."

Laughing, they lay quietly a while longer, simply enjoying the other's presence. She hadn't expected to find him so easy to talk to. The stars twinkled softly above, the moon bright enough to give plenty of light.

Treating the silence as a fragile creature, Ginny finally asked, “What made you decide to become an Auror?” The question had been bouncing through her brain since the moment she saw him at the Ministry.

He sighed deeply, stretching his arms above him in the sand. “I already mentioned the prejudice, and wanting Slytherins to stop assuming they’re evil.”

“I know,” she replied quietly. “I meant you. And why Aurors?”

His mouth twitched with a hint of a smile. “Maybe I just got fed up with feeling sorry for myself and my wreck of a life. I tried doing something for a change, and found I quite liked it.” His smile widened into a smirk. “And I figured the Aurors would be the least prejudiced, once I showed them I was capable.” Draco looked pointedly over at her. “Maybe I wasn’t right on all counts, but there are enough exceptions to make it worth it.”

Ginny laughed, feeling a strange tightening in her chest. “I hope you don’t mean just me. That’s a lot of pressure for one little Auror.”

“I don’t,” he replied lightly, looking back at the stars. “I was on a squad before forming this one,” Draco added softly. “Where Richard Murstow, the one who died, was Lieutenant. I was only there a year, but by the end, no one cared that it was me guarding their back, they just considered it guarded. And that’s a trust I won’t easily forget.”

He turned back to her, grey eyes regarding her in the moonlight. “What about you? I bet everyone just assumes you did it because of your last name.”

Ginny nodded, surprised he even thought to ask. He was right on all counts, especially the rare guess that the common assumption was wrong. “My family’s always been protective of me. Only girl, youngest child, all that wrapped up in a nice neat package with my name on it. So of course, no one listened to me when I said I wanted to fight. When I made a difference when I did fight. I went along with their wishes at the Battle of Hogwarts, but…” Her voice trailed off as she held back the onslaught of memories. She had only told her reasons to Hermione and Luna before. “But Fred nearly died while I was safely hidden. Watching from the sidelines always made me sick, but I lost all patience with it after that.”

Draco’s brow furrowed as he watched her intently. “It’s not like you could have stopped it. We might not even be here having this conversation.”

“My whole family, Harry and Hermione--it never stopped any of them!” she bit out, anger rising. “Even Percy, bureaucrat extraordinaire, was out there trading spells. Me? I cared for the wounded.”

“And dueled Bellatrix, from what I hear,” Draco drawled. “Don’t get too carried away with that guilt.”

Despite herself, it made her smile. “Watching my mother take Bellatrix down, I knew what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.”

“Oh? What’s that, stay home and raise a gaggle of children, occasionally defeating the most feared witch in the land when she happens to threaten them?”

Ginny punched his arm lightly. “Never have to hide again, you dolt.”

Draco chuckled. “Well I hope hiding here at Malfoy Manor doesn’t count.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I usually go around hunting Death Eaters by the droves while wearing a sign saying, ‘Come and Get It’.”

He shrugged good-naturedly. “Isn’t that what Gryffindors do best?"

Ginny glared at him. "It takes a special brand of stupid to think that's what bravery means."

"True enough," Draco chuckled. "But you did say never hide again, without qualifications."

Exasperation tinged her voice. "Never HAVE to hide. Train, so that if I want to fight the next Bellatrix singlehandedly, I darn well can. Nothing but my own fear will stop me."

“I don’t understand that,” he sighed. “Wanting danger. But that doesn’t make it any less--” His mouth twisted into a sneer around the word. “--noble.”

A snort escaped Ginny. “Merlin, Draco, you can even make that into an insult! I must say I’m impressed.”

He laughed lightly along with her as they lapsed back into silence.

"Do you want to go in?" Draco asked eventually.

She wished he hadn't asked, but reluctantly agreed.

Still grinning, they entered into the house. Narcissa’s disapproving glare stopped the Aurors cold. Belatedly, Ginny remembered that she was half-wet and covered in dirt from the shore, her hair most likely a lopsided frizzy monstrosity. A sight more fitting for the Gringotts dungeons than for her well-bred son, Ginny would bet. Narcissa stalked off without a word.

Tight-lipped, Draco turned to her. "I trust you can find your room?"

Ginny nodded, waving goodbye, and hurried off. The four flights of stairs took forever with her thoughts churning. All she could think about was cleaning herself up. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much, but his mother's disapproving glare kept replaying in her mind.

Upon reaching her room, she saw that the wardrobe held quite a few options of clothes, with a tag informing her they came with a tailoring charm, and that it was the least Narcissa could do for the girl who helped her son.

It lessened the sting of their previous interaction. Ginny found the nightgown, and set it out for after her bath. Her bathroom had a giant sized bathtub, and she intended to make the most of it.

"What were you and the Weasley girl doing out late last night?" his mother asked over breakfast the next morning, trying and failing to sound casual.

Draco stabbed his eggs, viciously chewing them. "I was just showing her the grounds."

She looked surprised at that. "How did the two of you get sopping wet?"

"I showed her the lake," he answered curtly, disliking interrogations.

The bay window of the sunroom bathed the warm glow of the morning sun over the small breakfast table. Goyle plopped into the seat next to Draco, eagerly dishing the food.

"Gregory, dear, what have I said? If you've made a mountain, it's too much." Narcissa handed his friend the proper utensils.

Ginny walked in behind the House Elf, looking vaguely uncomfortable. The sunroom was small, clearly not their formal dining area, and clearly reserved for family. Draco was slightly shocked. Ginny took good care of herself, but in robes of the highest fashion, she looked like a proper pureblood.

Draco stood, pulling out the remaining chair for her. Blushing scarlet, she seated herself with an embarrassed, "Thanks."

"Gregory," Narcissa instructed with long-suffering patience, "what are you to do when a Lady enters the room?"

"I'm s'posed to stand and stuff," he responded around a mouthful of food. "But she's a...she's a..."

"A Lady," Draco finished for him, face tight.

"Could you pass me the jam, Draco?" Ginny asked, diffusing the situation. He gratefully passed it.

It reminded him of something he'd wanted to show her, and he passed the morning's Daily Prophet as well.

She took it, looking skeptical. "They finally ran the report on Slytherin Squad?"

Draco shook his head. "That was yesterday, and highly unflattering. Bottom of the front page."

Narcissa smiled thinly at her son. "Are newspapers at the table really necessary?"

"It's important," he responded.

"I've been declared missing?!" Ginny nearly screeched. "And my flat's burned down. Wonderful, just wonderful."

"The Muggle Extinguishers arrived in time to save half of the building" Draco added, having scoured the article earlier. "But unfortunately not your half."

Ginny looked like she wanted to set fire to the offending article. "I can't believe they'd just declare me missing though. It hasn't even been a full day!"

He shrugged. "News must be slow. I really shouldn't be surprised that Granger didn't take my word that you were fine." Her eyes still glued to the article, Draco added, "You haven't gotten to the best part."

Ginny gasped, announcing that she had just gotten there. "They put the Dark Mark in the sky?"

Draco nodded sagely. "The incompetency of which speaks highly to Macnair being involved, as not even a Muggle was killed."

Ginny and his mother both glared at him. "It's true, isn't it?" he said to defend himself, unsuccessfully. "You have to be fairly incompetent to not kill someone who doesn't have a wand."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him, but his mother continued glaring. "Not at the table, Draco."

The grand clock in the hall rang, announcing, "You'll be late soon!"

They stood, the dishes disappearing, as they prepared to Apparate over to the Ministry. His mother walked out. He stayed Ginny with a light touch on her arm. She turned expectantly, but Draco waited until Goyle Apparated away.

"If anyone asks," Draco whispered, "don't say that you're staying here. They'll never assume it otherwise."

Ginny nodded, but he could tell she didn't understand. "I'll just say I'm with my Aunt Muriel."

He shook his head violently. "That's easy to disprove. Just say it's an undisclosed location, and let them assume you're with your aunt."

She understood finally. "You think I'm still in that much danger?"

He didn't want to tell her, but knew if things got worse, not telling could be disastrous. "I think we all are. I knew I was ever since Richard died. I'm assuming my wards are strong enough, but..."

"But you don't want to push it," she finished, and he agreed. A frown crossed her face. "Does Goyle know not to...?"

Shit. He Disapparated instantly.

Warrington grinned at Draco's arrival. "So I hear our sexy little Lieutenant’s shacking up with you! Nice, Captain. Real generous, hogging her all to yourself, though."

Draco massaged the bridge of his nose. Did no one have a shred of common sense without him?! "That is classified information. If either of you tells a soul, I will have your hide. Do I make myself clear?"

"Oh, sure," Warrington chuckled, not the least bit concerned. "Loud and clear."

“I’m serious!” Draco snapped. “This could endanger everyone--”

The crack of Apparition interrupted him.

“Helloooo, Lieutenant,” Warrington drawled, eyeing her proper robes. “You’re looking mighty fine today.”

Ginny blushed. “My Auror robes blew up, if you haven’t heard.”

Warrington raised an eyebrow, far too amused for Draco’s liking. “Why didn’t you borrow one of Malfoy’s then?”

Ginny looked at Draco in confusion. “He knows,” Draco snapped. “And they’re both the biggest idiots I’ve ever set eyes on.” He stalked off to his usual chair, snatching his clipboard with much more force than necessary.

Warrington didn’t seem to notice the insult. “Not so concerned with her being a blood-traitor now, are you?”

Draco fumed. He hadn’t thought of her as a blood-traitor since she joined the squad, and here Warrington was, acting like Draco--! He bottled his anger, and in his calmest voice, replied, “We’re all blood-traitors now, Warrington. If you haven’t noticed.”

The slightly older man shrugged, casually leaning back. “True enough.”

The crack of another Apparition split the air. All four of them wheeled, drawing their wands.

Daphne raised her hands. “I come in peace! If you louts aren’t doing anything else, you should go to St. Mungo’s.” She Disapparated.

The louts shrugged, not doing anything else, and followed her over.

Blaise had been moved to a private room, richly furnished, complete with a second bed just for Daphne.

Ginny frowned, looking around. "I didn't even know they had these rooms."

Draco chuckled. "I've never known anything but these rooms."

"You would," she replied with an eye-roll.

Daphne ushered them in. Blaise sat propped up in the thick bed, looking worn and thin, but alert.

He waved them over. "I'm doing better, thanks for asking."

Draco rolled his eyes. "If you're conscious you're doing better. It's not necessary to ask."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, not waiting even a minute to resume his infuriating banter. "It is still polite."

About to respond in kind, Ginny cut Draco off. "Blaise, how are you doing?" she asked, a twinkle in her eye.

"Much better, obviously, or I wouldn't be awake to listen to your stupid questions!"

Ginny chuckled. "Yep, he's fine."

Inwardly overjoyed to have his friend back, Draco simply shook his head. "I don't know why we even bother. There's just no pleasing him."

"This is the first he's been awake," Daphne supplied quietly. "Thought you all would want to say hi."

"Of course," Ginny responded with a smile. Draco nodded sharply, not willing to express how worried he'd been in front of others.

"Goyle and I were stuck all alone with these two dingbats," Warrington added. Ginny and Draco both looked offended. "Some sanity from you and Daphne would be useful about now."

"Blaise? Sane?" Draco said incredulously. "I don't think those words go together."

The man in question raised an eyebrow. "And what shenanigans have our Captain and Lieutenant been getting into that you need saving from?"

Warrington shrugged, trying to look casual. "She moved in with him."

"Also, Weasley's been declared missing," Daphne added. "You haven't read the paper yet."

Blaise's eyebrows would have climbed off his head if they could. "Did you stage an accident? So that you could--?"

"No I did NOT stage an accident so I could abduct her!" Draco exploded. "We were keeping it SECRET to keep everyone SAFER!"

Ginny, of course, flushed bright red, and Blaise, of course, instantly targeted this. "My, my, the Weaselette's blushing," he drawled. "What juicy secrets is our Captain not telling?"

Draco hadn't thought it humanly possible to turn a darker shade of red. She proved him wrong. "Nothing, that's exactly it." Ginny tilted her chin defiantly. "Draco's been nothing but a gentleman and it's terrible to see everyone assuming things based on his generosity."

The ardent defense pleased Draco to no end. It even stopped Blaise in his tracks. This was doubly pleasing.

Blaise sighed dramatically. "How can I keep teasing him after that? You're no fun, Weaselette."

She shrugged. "It's the truth."

"She's been a good houseguest, so no complaints so far," Draco added. "Even managed to scandalize my mother in record time, so there's that."

Ginny glared at him. "That was just as much your fault as mine."

Draco chuckled, remembering the lake fondly. "Not just as much, no."

"Speaking of good houseguests," Daphne trailed off awkwardly.

Blaise grimaced. "They've deemed me well enough to go home. Apparently they're worried I'm a security risk, for some reason. Something about a Muggle flat exploding?"

Draco grimaced in kind. "And you need somewhere you can heal, with adequate protection in case you're the next target."

The Charms Expert shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah."

The answer was blindly obvious, and Draco sighed. "Come one, come all, to the Malfoy Home for the Wayward Witch or Wizard!"

"I won't be intruding on your time with your Lieutenant?" he asked suggestively. At Ginny's glare, he threw up his hands defensively.

"Goyle's already there," Draco snapped.

Daphne looked too excited. "Really? Can I come too?"

"Yeah, me too," Warrington chimed in. "I don't want to be left out of a party at Malfoy's."

"It is not a bloody party!" Draco massaged the bridge of his nose. "And no you may not! The two of you don't have a bloody good reason at all!"

"But you'll be hosting the entire team other than us!" Daphne protested. "That seems exclusionary to me."

"Then Blaise can stay at your house and no one will feel excluded," Draco replied. "I am not hosting a live-in Auror team."

"We wouldn't even have to Apparate in to work," Warrington added dreamily. "We could just have off-campus meetings in Malfoy's sitting room."

"I do not find this remotely convincing," Draco replied, once again wishing for sane friends. "Once any of you moves in, you'll be a parasite occupying that bedroom for the rest of my life."

Warrington nodded as if this accurately described his plans.

Blaise flashed a winning smile. "You're not worried about your darling Lieutenant?"

Draco looked at her, quickly looking away when she looked back. "I believe she has a need for basic human dignity. Something I find the majority of you mooches lacking."

No one even bothered to address Goyle; he'd always been a mooch, but an unobtrusive one and so didn't count.

Daphne wrinkled her nose. "Human dignity in a Muggle flat?"

The room quieted awkwardly. He didn't dare look at his Lieutenant, but tried to lighten the mood. "That's true. Maybe I should save her from her own idea of human dignity?"

Ginny shoved into him playfully. "It came with free telly."

He raised an eyebrow. "I haven't the faintest idea what that is, but it sounds terrible."

She looked back at him, a challenge apparent in her smile. "I bet you'd like it."

"Don't take the bet, Draco!" Blaise whispered frantically. "She's trying to poison you! Once you go Muggle you never go back!"

"I've seen it," Warrington admitted. "It's like photographs, but with sound and longer. Some of them are fun. They do plays and things."

Ginny tossed Draco a 'See?' look. He sighed dramatically. "If Warrington can survive the experience, I certainly can." The redhead grinned triumphantly.

Blaise looked incredulously at them. "What happened to the two of you?"

Draco looked at the girl, unwilling to admit how rare it was to enjoy someone's company as much as he had. "With your obnoxious face gone, Blaise, I guess I discovered that she's not quite so awful."

Ginny rolled her eyes, still amused. "Unfortunately Draco's not any less of a prat."

Blaise usually understood more than Draco let on, and this was no exception. He shot Draco a sly grin. "I'm overjoyed for you, truly. Let's get me up and over to Malfoy Manor before St. Mungo's sells my bed out from under me, yeah?"

Daphne pushed a wheelchair over to him. A piece of Draco died inside. "Blaise, you can't..?"

"Temporarily, mate," his friend reassured him. Although Blaise didn't seem too confident of it himself. Through maneuvering and leaning on Daphne, he managed to slide into the chair. Draco Apparated over to Malfoy Manor, the rest of the team following suit.

Narcissa happily welcomed Draco's friend into her home, situating him in a room on the ground floor so that Blaise wouldn't have to bother with stairs.

Almost immediately, the fireplace rang. "Malfoy?" it screeched hideously. "Malfoy, I know you have Ginny somewhere! Hand her over, this isn't funny anymore!"

Draco winced. "Ginny, want to go deal with that? I sure as hell don't."

The girl grimaced. "Hermione?" To which Draco nodded. "I guess I'll go get lectured at. Don't worry, I'll Apparate, she won't know I was here."

"Ginny!" Hermione launched at her in a crushing hug. Then pulled her back at arm's length. "What in the world's been going on?!"

"Draco said you were there for the Death Eater ambush at my flat." Ginny braced herself for the onslaught she knew was only minutes away.

Hermione nodded. "It was incredibly dangerous, Ginny. I can't believe they went to that much effort to target you! I didn't even know the Death Eaters operated in such scale anymore."

"I thought we had them running scared," Ginny said darkly.

"They might be now. We've found two places we thought were Macnair's hide-outs, but both came up empty. We're not sure if the spells were wrong, or if he's just keeping one step ahead of us."

Ginny couldn't believe the words out of her friend's mouth. "Where is Slytherin Squad in all this? Tracking down our traitor?"

Hermione smiled apologetically. "Ginny, this is a high-profile case now. We can't trust it to a squad that hasn't earned its stripes yet."

"Then give it to several squads, but make us one of them!" Spots of red formed in Ginny's vision, her cue to calm down, but she shoved it aside. "Stop sidelining us and assuming we'll fail!"

"Harry and I were hoping to have you and Ron leading the charge, as two of our best Aurors. There's no reason to be sidelined," Hermione offered reasonably.

"I am part of a squad," Ginny hissed through clenched teeth. "That squad deserves vengeance on Macnair."

Hermione shook her head. "Be reasonable, Ginny. That squad's a threat to themselves and those around them. They barely deserve to remain standing."

"When have they ever been a threat to those around them?!" Ginny could barely see straight in anger. "Blaise Zabini nearly died in the line of duty!"

"Zabini, Malfoy, and you all proved yourselves time and again." Hermione's eyes narrowed, rising to the bait of Ginny's temper. "No one else on that team is qualified to wear the robes of Auror. They passed by the skin of their teeth. If it were up to me, I wouldn't let them raise their wands within 100 meters of combat."

"Did you even see them fight?!" Ginny screeched.

"I saw them fail," Hermione replied icily.

Unable to stand any more without strangling her friend, Ginny stormed out of the office, slamming the door as she left.

She shoved open the door to Blaise's room. "Hermione's hunting Macnair without us." Her voice dripped undisguised fury.

"She what?!" Draco jumped up in shock.

Ginny smiled maliciously. "Oh, yes. Said we haven't earned our stripes, and that she'd boot every one of the team but the three of us if it were up to her."

From the bed, Blaise simply raised his eyebrows.

"I'll kill her," Draco snarled.

"Also that we're a danger to ourselves and everyone around us," Ginny seethed, but the boys instantly calmed.

"That...was on our official report from our only other mission," Blaise replied sheepishly. "And well-earned."

"I'll still kill her," Draco added, but with less venom.

At Ginny's disbelieving stare, Blaise supplied, "Goyle nearly killed himself and we blew up half a block."

"You're saying Hermione's right?!" Ginny asked incredulously.

Blaise shrugged. "I'm saying she's uninformed, and hasn't updated the opinion. Which is easy to do when the only other mission had a traitor, a deserter, and a near fatality." He gave a self-deprecating grin.

The Slytherins sat sullenly.

"So," Ginny tried to draw them out, "what are we going to do about it?"

Draco gave her a quizzical look. "What can we do about it?"

"You're ok with never getting missions again, and Hermione eventually just quietly disbanding the team?"

"Of course not," Draco frowned.

"What do you want us to do, Weasley?" Blaise asked. "Charge up to headquarters and hold Hermione ransom until she gives us another mission?"

"I'd do it in a heartbeat if it would work," Draco said.

What did she want them to do? That was the question, wasn't it?

"I want to hunt down Macnair before Hermione can," Ginny announced with finality.

She expected them to jump up, applauding her dramatic announcement. Instead, the only response was a slight furrowing of Draco's brows.

"How do you expect to do that?" the blond asked her.

"Don't you guys have, I don't know, contacts that know Macnair?"

"Nott Sr. was the only one who knew him well. Macnair didn't associate with the 'children' until he had to," Draco replied.

"Maybe someone we've captured?" It was a stretch, she knew.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "They like us about as much as Yaxley did. Most of them even less."

Reluctantly, Blaise suggested, "There's always--"

"Not going there," Draco cut him off with finality.

Ginny raised her eyebrows, but didn't press.

"Can't you, I don't know," Draco waved his hands vaguely, "get a mission out of one of your Auror buddies again?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes, Hermione, Harry, or Ron. They didn't know who they were helping before. Pick which of them will still help now that they know which squad gets the mission."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "If I'm picking who's least likely to be blindly prejudiced, I'll pick Hermione any day." Reluctantly, Draco agreed.

"I kinda sorta just blew up at her," Ginny winced. "I'm probably not her favorite person right now."

"Isn't there some way you can just bribe her into giving you a mission? Something you can do to make up for it?" Draco asked.

"I don't have anything to make up for," Ginny snapped. But as she said it, a terrible, horrible, positively fiendish idea came to her. "There is a way they can make it up to me though."

"What is it?" Draco asked skeptically.

She adopted her most dramatic voice. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it--"

Blaise raised his hand. "You plural? Am I included in this?"

Ginny nodded. "Yes, you too, Blaise."

About to continue, Blaise cut in again. "Is Daphne included? I don't want to have to push my own wheelchair."

She massaged her forehead. "Yes, she can come too."

Draco raised his hand. She glared furiously at the man, who just smirked broadly. "No questions, Lieutenant. I just wanted to see you make that face."

"Your mission," she ground out, "is to join with me in infiltrating the deepest enemy territory imaginable. At great peril to life and limb."

"I'd do pretty much anything if it helped the team," Draco replied, infuriatingly nonchalant.

Blaise nodded. "Count me and Daphne in. What is it?"

She grinned maniacally. "Would you join me for the Weasley weekly dinner? It's open to any who want to come."

Blaise and Draco looked terrified.

Ginny waited nervously on the extremely familiar porch. The door opened. Molly Weasley took one look at her baby girl and scooped her up with tears of joy. "Oh, Ginny dear, we were so worried about you! What with your flat blowing up, and you being missing and..." The witch trailed off as she saw who else stood on her porch.

"Mum," Ginny said diplomatically, "allow me to introduce you to my friends. This is Daphne Greengrass--"

Daphne made a beautiful curtsy. "Delighted to meet you."

"Blaise Zabini--"

Blaise kissed Molly Weasley's hand, oozing charm even from a wheelchair. "The pleasure is all mine." Mrs. Weasley blushed.

"--and Draco Malfoy."

Draco gave a slight bow. "I wish our previous meetings had been under better circumstances. If you will forgive my past behavior? I have found your daughter to be quite the charming young lady and am sad it took me this long to see past our two families' history."

Molly Weasley stood flummoxed. "I-- I--"

"Oh, I nearly forgot!" Daphne chirped, pulling out an exquisite vase, "I wouldn't be a proper guest if I forgot my gift! Silly me!"

Blaise produced an exotic orchid. "A beautiful flower for the beautiful lady."

Draco handed her a box of the finest cigars, with a small smile. "Just in case Mr. Weasley feels left out."

Nearly too overwhelmed to speak, Mrs. Weasley beamed, ushering them all inside. "It's so exciting to have new faces! I'll have to warn you, it's just roast beef with some potatoes and carrots..."

Daphne leaned over to Ginny and whispered, "Weasleys: 0, Slytherins: 1!"

Skeptically, the four of them followed the Weasley matron inside.

Before coming, Ginny had briefed her friends thoroughly. "My mum is the main thing to be aware of. Befriend her instantly, and don't be afraid to overdo it. She'll either do everything she can to disapprove, or become your fiercest defender. And trust me," she added with a smirk, "none of my family can go against her for long."

"Should I play up my 'I'm just an innocent pure-blooded gentleman's daughter?" Daphne had asked, furiously batting her eyelashes to demonstrate. The impression had left Ginny in stitches.

It was perfect so far. Mrs. Weasley happily bustled about, finding places to set her beautiful flowers and vase.

The house stood mostly empty, still preparing for the weekly dinner. This was on purpose--Ginny wanted to garner as much support as possible before they were outnumbered.

Arthur Weasley walked over, cautiously evaluating the group before him. He nodded briefly in greeting to Daphne and Blaise, but singled out Draco. "So." Eyes slightly narrowed, Mr. Weasley puzzled out how to respond to the young man. "I hear my daughter thinks you're worthy to bring under my roof."

With a solemn nod, Draco replied, "Her judgment often surprises me." With horror, he realized it could be taken as a backhanded remark.

Luckily, Mr. Weasley took it with only a small chuckle. "That it does. I hear she's taken up with your little squad?"

"Yes, indeed, sir." Draco barely managed not to grimace over the title. "She got an easy transition back into the field, and we got a first-rate Lieutenant."

Her father remained impassive. "Seems like you got the better end of that deal."

"Undoubtedly."

Apparently satisfied, Mr. Weasley held up the cigar box. "Mighty fine cigars, here."

Draco smiled. "I'm glad you appreciate them."

With a chuckle, Mr. Weasley moved on into the kitchen to help his wife.

Once he was out of sight, Draco collapsed dramatically into Ginny's shoulder. "How many more are there?" he groaned. "I don't think my self-control can make it."

Daphne patted his back reassuringly. "Just focus on the mission. Visualize it when you'd rather be punching someone's face. It's how I got through finishing classes."

Blaise looked quizzically up at her. "They gave you missions? All we had were lousy dinner parties for our parents."

Fred and George barged in, not bothering to knock. Fred's arm draped around his wife, Hermione. One look at the occupants of the living room and all three stopped cold.

George squealed, "It's an invasion! Call the Ministry!"

"We are the Ministry," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Fred, George, Hermione, this is Draco, Blaise, and Daphne."

Fred and George turned to each other. "Have we ever met a Malfoy before, George?" Fred asked.

"Can't say we have," George replied. "Especially not one in a lower year, with a surly disposition--"

"Penchant for calling respectable witches foul names--"

"Who tried to make Harry's life living hell--"

"Got us banned from Quidditch--"

"And generally tried to hurt everyone we care about." George shrugged. "Doesn't ring a bell."

Stupidly, Ginny hadn't anticipated this. She had no idea how to salvage it--the twins had legitimate reasons to loathe Draco specifically, and she'd counted on their support.

Daphne stuck a hand out. "I'm Daphne, and I keep those two tossers in line."

George grabbed it with an elaborate bow. "Enchante, Mademoiselle," he replied, kissing the back of her hand. Blaise frowned instantly.

Hermione pulled Ginny aside. "What's going on? Why did you bring them," she indicated with a vague gesture, “here?”

She shrugged. "Nothing. I just wanted to invite my friends to the weekly dinners too."

"Your...friends?" the older girl asked with disgust.

"Yes, my friends," Ginny replied stubbornly. "They don't have to be yours, but you need to be alright with them being mine."

"Ginny, you know what they--" Hermione cut off, composing herself. "I can try."

Hermione's willingness touched Ginny's heart. She felt terrible for underestimating their friendship. "It would mean the world to me," Ginny replied softly. "They're not that bad, once you get past the meanness and general distaste for the world."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Gosh, you make them sound so appealing."

Fred and George managed to pry the incantations for Auror training curses out of Daphne, and were happily working on getting her to spill the counter-spells. All for legitimate business reasons, of course.

To Ginny's great surprise, Hermione made good on her word, marching straight up to Blaise. "I've heard good things about you, Auror Zabini, but haven't had the chance to talk in person."

He smiled charmingly. "If you've heard good things, it can't have been about me. And please, just call me Blaise."

Things going better than expected for the other two, Draco slumped over to Ginny. "Well aren't I just the guest of honor."

She chuckled softly at him. "I told you not to expect to be. They're ignoring you right now, which is the best you can hope for."

"I have achieved my life's goal," he announced to Ginny, "being utterly unremarkable. How extraordinary it feels to be like everyone else for once."

She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "I should cut that ego down to size for you."

He smirked. "You could try."

"The Eighth Wonder of the World: Draco Malfoy's Ego!" Ginny chuckled. "It really is amazingly large for a man who's accomplished so little."

Instantly, his good mood evaporated, looking pointedly away. Kicking herself for being so stupid, Ginny put a hand on his arm. "I'm really sorry, Draco. I shouldn't have said that."

He stuck his hands in his pockets, moving the arm so that her hand fell away. "Don't be."

Refusing to give up, she placed her hand back on his arm. Turning him slightly, she forced him to look at her. "I was referencing our earlier conversation, remember? Where your only accomplishment was integrating Slytherin Squad?"

"I remember," he replied tightly.

"You've done so much more than that. You fought through Auror Training on your own, everyone says you were a fantastic Lieutenant, and you're being a fantastic Captain. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Some of the tension left him. "I know I'm a good Auror."

"You're a good friend, too, no matter how hard you try to hide it," she added, smiling softly. "To Blaise, to me, to all the others."

He gave a wry smile. "Darn you, Weaselette, you've found me out."

"I believe I have," she replied happily.

Their small bubble of happiness instantly shattered. "What the bloody hell is he doing here?!" Ron bellowed, storming up to Draco. All side conversation ceased before Ron’s violent explosion. "You have some nerve, showing up in my home--"

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly Weasley intervened, hands on hips and disapproving scowl at full power. "Don't you dare speak to a guest in that tone of voice!"

Draco stood stunned by the ferocity of his protector. Ginny gave him her best 'I told you so!' look.

"But Mum," Ron protested, "this is Malfoy--"

"And Draco Malfoy and his friends have been wonderful guests!" Molly glared fiercely at Ron. "I will not have my son be the example of poor behavior!" Demeanor instantly shifting, she smiled, raising a tray of sweets. "The treacle toffee just finished, would anyone care for a bite?"

Ron stalked off in a huff.

Blaise and Daphne looked at the Weasley matron with a newfound respect.

Practically glowing, Draco readily accepted the offered toffee. "You're too kind, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oh, you're such a dear!" she replied with a smile. "Don't mind Ron, he's just been a bit put out lately."

"Oh? Why is that?" Draco faked concern excellently.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head affectionately at her youngest son. "Another promising young witch just called it quits. Personally, I think he's still taking it a bit hard."

"Understandably," Draco replied, unable to repress the sarcasm. Ginny elbowed him. Just because her mum saw the best in people didn't mean she was thick.

Percy Weasley made sure to introduce himself to every Slytherin. "Percy Weasley, personal assistant to the Minister of Magic. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, it really is."

Blaise shook Percy's hand in all seriousness. "So this is the Percy that Shacklebolt keeps mentioning! It's a pleasure to finally meet the man."

Nearly bursting with pride, Percy positively glowed with self-importance for the rest of the night.

"You might have unleashed a monster," Ginny informed Blaise.

The Slytherin shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought you wanted your family to like us? I'm just doing as I'm told."

Daphne patted Blaise's back. "Don't worry, dear, he'll only request to be seated next to such important people at every family event now. I'll gladly give up my spot by your side so the two of you can network." Blaise looked like he would be sick.

"Every family event, Daphne?" Draco scowled. "Just how many of these were you expecting to go to?"

She held up her hands helplessly. "As many as it takes."

Ginny gave Draco a sideways look. "This coming from the man who would do, 'Anything if it helped the team,' " she said in perfect imitation of Draco's earlier quote.

He scowled. "I don't think this could be any worse."

Right on cue, Harry Potter walked through the door. He stopped in his tracks. "Malfoy," he greeted coldly.

Draco inclined his head. "Potter."

"And Blaise and Daphne!" Blaise added, legitimately put-out. "Everyone keeps forgetting!"

Harry turned to Ginny with a tight smile. "Ginny, I thought this was a time for friends and family."

"It is," she replied evenly. "I want my friends to meet my family."

"And they've been delightfully charming so far," Daphne intervened innocently. "I never knew those twins could be such entertaining conversationalists!"

Blaise scowled at her mention of them. "Only one of them is single, you know."

Harry walked off towards the rest of the family. Choruses of happy greetings followed him.

Mrs. Weasley happily wrapped him in a hug. "Luna couldn't make it?"

Harry shook his head. "One of the thestrals came down with a cold, so she has to stay with it."

"Too bad, too bad. She's such a delightful girl."

Ginny couldn't agree more. She had counted on Luna's level head to help with this dinner. It said something when the girl generally acknowledged as crazy was one of the sanest in your family.

Mrs. Weasley turned her happy smile on the rest of them. "Dinner is served!"

Before the meal, Ginny had pulled Hermione aside. “Hermione, I know this is a huge favor I’m asking, but can you help me with Draco?” Hermione raised her eyebrows at the odd request, but let Ginny finish. “He’s trying really hard to get along with everyone, but I know someone’s going to ambush him during the meal. He’s going to fight back if that happens, and…” She trailed off, letting the magnitude of the disaster sink in.

Hermione understood. “You’ll promise he won’t start something on his own?”

Ginny winced. “I can’t promise for him. He will try, though.”

“I guess I can take that.” The girl sighed. “I’ll do what I can.”

Ginny hugged her friend, feeling entirely undeserving. “You’re the best, Hermione.”

The seating had been carefully controlled by Ginny. She herself protected one end of the Slytherins, with Draco next to her, Daphne next to him, and Blaise after that. Percy happily took the seat next to Blaise, much to Daphne’s amusement.

Unfortunately, in her efforts to protect the team from ambush, a divide split right down the middle of the table. Harry, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ron took the other side, with Arthur and Molly on the ends. Ginny couldn’t help making the unfortunate association with battle lines. From the way Ron and Harry held their knives, it seemed they had as well.

Mrs. Weasley smiled broadly, willfully ignorant of the table tensions. “Well, don’t everyone dig in all at once!”

Silently, they dished food onto their plates.

"So George," Ginny said, attempting to breach the silence with one of the two people who didn’t work at the Ministry, "how's the new Hogsmeade shop going?"

“It’s going great!” her brother managed through eating. “Few kinks with angry Hogwarts professors protesting, but that should be sorted soon enough.”

“I can’t imagine why they’d protest a Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes going in within range of students,” Blaise drawled sarcastically.

Fred narrowed his eyes. “Zonko’s was there before. No one had a problem with that.”

The Slytherin nodded matter-of-factly. “But your stuff is much more potent. I know plenty of people who caused mischief with your Extendable Ears alone.” He smiled mischievously. “I may or may not have been one of them.”

Hermione giggled despite herself. “They’ve considered offering discounts to professors.”

George raised a finger importantly. “If Lupin doesn’t exploit it and bankrupt us.”

Draco choked on his butterbeer. “Lupin? Wasn’t he the werewolf?”

Nervous silence spread around the table. Gripping his knife tightly, Harry replied, “Yes, Malfoy. And the best bloody Defense teacher Hogwarts has ever had.”

“Language,” Molly Weasley protested.

Draco shrugged, trying to remain nonchalant. “I always thought Snape did a good job too, once Dumbledore finally let him have it.”

“Unfortunately, Potions Masters are rarer, so McGonagall gave him his old job back,” Ginny replied neutrally. She sensed the conversation veering closer to confrontational territory every second.

“Pity,” Ron added from the end. “I was overjoyed when that greasy git left. Took another git with him for good measure.” He stuffed a mouthful of food in. “And now we’ve got both of them back.”

Draco tensed next to Ginny.

“Ron,” Hermione tried to intercede. “That’s not very nice.”

Ron shrugged. “It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. I thought we’ve known that for ages.” His eyes narrowed. “Seems like my sister’s forgotten, though.”

Ginny’s blood boiled. “I haven’t forgotten a thing, Ron. Sometimes people make bad decisions, and hopefully they’re good enough to recognize it later!”

“And some of them are two-faced bastards who will do anything to stay out of prison!” Ron snarled. “I’ll trust a Death-Eater as far as I can throw him.” With a pointed look at Draco, he added, “And the ones I know, I trust even less.”

“He’s an Auror, Ron!” Ginny fumed. “He’s put his neck on the line countless times trying to prove himself to people like you! People who still don’t get it, even when he stares down Death Eaters!”

“Why don’t you let Malfoy speak for himself, Ginny,” Harry said far too casually. “He’s been unusually quiet.”

Draco looked up at his old enemies, surprising apathy in his gaze. “I have made decisions that I will regret for the rest of my life. This is not news to me. I hoped to come here in an effort to move past them. I see now that I was in error.” He folded his napkin deliberately, setting it on the table. “Mrs. Weasley, thank you for dinner. The food was delicious.”

“You seriously thought one meal would erase everything you’ve done?” Harry asked, perplexed.

“It’s called a peace offering,” Daphne volunteered quietly.

Ginny smiled maliciously. “We didn’t think you’d come if we’d invited you to Malfoy Manor.”

“And we’d be right not to,” Ron added with a look towards Hermione. “Some of us have less than fond memories of the place.”

About to leave, Draco finally lost it. He leaned across the table to get in Ron’s face. “You’re right, Weasley,” he snarled viciously. “Some of us were imprisoned in our own home, while Voldemort built his stronghold in our name, desecrating every inch of our property. For years, stuck living in an endless hell of our own making. Stuck watching as Voldemort tortured my parents in front of me, with nowhere we could run to.” He flashed a tight, apologetic look to Hermione. “The lucky ones got away with only scars.” He raised his wand, about to Apparate away. “I’m sorry I even bothered.”

A strong, quiet voice came from the end of the table. “Sit down, son.” Draco turned, shocked that Mr. Weasley would address him as such. “Ron will excuse himself if need be,” Arthur continued calmly. “I see no reason why you should be attacked in my home.”

“But Dad,” Ron protested, “he’s--”

“No, Ron,” Mr. Weasley cut him off firmly. “I did not raise my sons to spit in the face of peace offerings.” He turned to Draco. “I won’t pretend to like you, but I think you’re doing the right thing, being an Auror. And I’m glad you feel welcome under my roof.” Mrs. Weasley nodded vigorously at her husband’s short speech.

Humbled, Draco sat down.

Mr. Weasley turned to Ginny, forcibly changing the topic. “Ginny, I hear you had some Death Eaters show up at your flat.”

Ginny nodded, still stunned by her father’s actions. “Draco said there were three of them.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Draco said? What, you weren’t there?”

“I was there.” Stuffing down her shame, she admitted, “I didn’t spot the Death Eaters until the curses started firing. And Draco Apparated me away right after that.”

“Why was Malfoy at your flat in the first place?” Harry asked.

Hermione stepped in. “He called me, when he suspected the danger. I gave him Ginny’s address and followed him over there. He found a deadly curse on her doorknob, and Death Eaters waiting behind her on the stairs. Malfoy did the sensible thing, and just Apparated Ginny out of danger.” She looked pointedly at Draco. “If he’d been a moment later, she’d likely be dead.”

“Or captured,” Blaise added softly.

The Weasley’s sat stunned.

“The article just said you weren’t home,” Ron gaped.

“She wasn’t.” Draco replied flatly. “I ensured it.”

Mrs. Weasley held a hand to her mouth. “Ronald Weasley,” she said, nearly through tears. “You apologize to Draco Malfoy this instant.”

Draco looked confused. “She’s my Lieutenant. I would have done the same for any on my squad.”

Ron looked as if the words might kill him, but willingly said them. “I’m sorry I said I couldn’t trust you. You saved my sister’s life, and that’s…” He trailed off, looking with pain at his sister. “That’s not something I take lightly.”

“How did you know about the attack in the first place?” Fred asked, worry creasing his forehead.

“Goyle warned me about the cursed doorknob,” Draco replied. “The whole team had them. As Ginny doesn’t have a Floo, I checked on her personally.”

“You’re getting a Floo installed!” Mrs. Weasley insisted, barely restraining her tears. “No excuses this time!”

“I know, Mum,” Ginny replied softly.

“Where are you staying now?” Hermione asked. “I mean, now that your flat’s been blown up.”

Ginny grimaced. She’d been dreading this question from the beginning, but knew it was inevitable. “I’m staying at an undisclosed location. There’s a good chance I’m still near the top of the Death Eater’s hit list.”

“Undisclosed location where?” Hermione pressed. “I can’t think of a place with strong enough wards, not if Death Eaters are after you.”

“I’m sorry,” Ginny held out, “but I really can’t tell you. I’m not the only one who’d be in danger if I did.”

“She’s staying at Malfoy Manor,” Draco said flatly.

“She’s what?!” the Weasley’s responded in near unison.

The Slytherin shrugged. “It might have been against my wishes, but we have wards placed by Voldemort himself. If they held out the Ministry, I guarantee they can hold out a few Death Eaters. Even if they fail, Blaise and Goyle are staying there, along with my mother and myself. All of us can handle ourselves quite nicely in a fight. So tell me what the flaw in my plan is.”

“You. You’re the flaw in your plan,” Ron responded, but without animosity.

“Ginny?” her father looked at her intently. “You’re alright with this?”

She nodded. “I can’t think of anywhere safer.”

"You could stay with Fred and me..." Hermione started, but trailed off as she realized Ginny was right. "You're absolutely positive you'll be fine there?"

"I'm not," Blaise responded before Ginny had a chance to. Every eye turned to him. "Draco's been known to eat little Gryffindor girls for supper every now and then. It's been a while since he had an incident, but..." He trailed off suggestively.

Draco rolled his eyes. "My friend has a strange sense of humor." Nervous chuckles followed around the table. Surprisingly, Blaise's direct lampshading of her family's fears did seem to calm them.

"Speaking of Slytherins," Daphne tried and failed to sound casual, "we have a proposal to run by you."

"Oh?" Harry asked, legitimately curious.

"We'd love to hunt Macnair--"

"Won't happen," Hermione cut her off. "Senior squads only."

Daphne's smile turned tight. "Which we know you won't let us do," she continued. "But we have a plan to track down the Notts."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"Nott Sr. and Macnair grew up together." Blaise looked intently at his two bosses. "We have reason to believe that Nott Sr. might be less cautious than Macnair at the moment, possibly even trusting towards his former teammates."

"Also, we know that the Notts have a penchant for hiding Death Eaters," Draco added. "Just because he hated Macnair is no reason to assume they wouldn't team up against a common enemy. As they did in the past, under Voldemort."

Ginny remained silent, as planned. The squad needed to sell themselves as capable. Being seen as riding on Ginny's coattails would only hamper them.

Hermione frowned. "Who did they hide before?"

"Rowle," Draco responded. "I know he was found in their summer home in France, under an assumed name."

"What Ministry resources would you require?" Hermione asked.

"None that I know of at the moment," Draco responded honestly. "It might change when we get more information."

Hermione turned to Harry. "I have no problem with it. Do you?"

Harry shook his head. "If you don't need any other squads, knock yourselves out."

The four members of Slytherin Squad positively beamed.

"Thank you," Draco replied seriously. "We won't disappoint."

Harry shrugged. "It'd be hard to, at this point."

Draco came into work early, plans of attack to pull together and Death Eaters to find. Surprisingly, only a few minutes later, Ginny walked in. With a smile, she handed him a gently steaming cup of tea.

A huge grin spread across his face. "Your Tea Privileges?"

Still smiling, she shrugged. "For now. You survived a family dinner at the Burrow, and that is no easy feat."

He took a sip. Marvelous, as expected. "I'll take what I can get."

"You earned every drop." Ginny gestured towards his stack of papers. "Can I see what you've been working on?"

Draco nodded, beckoning her over. She looked over his shoulder, so close behind him that he could feel her breath against his neck. Oddly enough, he didn't mind. "Here are the known Nott residences. We need to figure out which is the best target to strike first. And I'm definitely open for any insights."

Ginny frowned in concentration, finger hovering lightly over the different marked locations on the map. She stopped at one in the south of France. "Is that where...?"

"You caught Rowle, yes. Most of these aren't registered in the Nott name, I just happen to know their pseudonyms, having been to a few myself."

Still concentrating, she nodded. "Can you mark which aren't in their name? Those'll be more likely targets for hideouts."

Draco felt stupid for not thinking of it on his own. Hopefully, he would have eventually. He highlighted one in England, Ireland, Spain, and Russia.

Ginny let out a frustrated sigh. "I didn't even see the one in Russia," she remarked mostly to herself. "Why do they need to be so international?"

Draco chuckled. "I should take you to the Malfoy home in Russia sometime. It's a beautiful place. The forest freezes over entirely in winter, and..." He trailed off, suddenly self-conscious about waxing poetic. "You do like snow, don't you?"

Ginny grinned delightedly. "I adore it. Especially when you have a cozy fire to come back to, and some butterbeer and a good book to curl up with."

Draco returned the grin. "I haven't tried that exactly, but it sounds delightful."

"Oh! You should add this too." Ginny pulled a page out of her bag. "Hermione gave me the locations and findings of each of the Macnair raids so far."

Three hits, each discovering nothing of consequence. "Oh? One day and you're already back to pulling those political strings?"

Ginny shrugged innocently. "I didn't even have to coax her. For some strange reason, she's willing to help our team now. Maybe cause she realized I'm not the only competent one on it."

"Or because she realized we'd keep coming to dinner until she did." Draco looked at the new marks he'd put down to indicate Hermione's raids. Was it just him or... "Those seem to be close by the Ireland home."

Ginny raised her eyebrows, apparently seeing exactly what he had in the map. "First target?"

He nodded. "Let's call the team."

Blaise, Daphne, Goyle, and Warrington joined them soon after being summoned. No one wanted to miss a traditional mission, a raid.

Draco felt the pre-battle jitters looming on the horizon. He'd been on raids back before Slytherin Squad, but never led one. Briefly, he looked at Ginny, who'd likely been on countless missions before becoming an instructor. She smiled, winking at him over her cup of tea. He returned the smile, but it didn't help his nerves.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Alright, let's go over what we know." Draco conjured a larger version of the map on the wall, zooming in on the Ireland Nott residence. "Here's our target. It's an isolated house up in the countryside, no Muggles within a mile. It's not large, but I haven't been there before, so we'll have to play it by ear. I pulled a blueprint from the Ministry, but it's only minimal detail. Has anyone actually been there?"

Everyone stared blankly or shook their heads. Perfect.

“I’m guessing it’s got hefty wards,” Blaise added. “I know their main house had nice ones, and if they’re hiding Death Eaters, it’ll be worse, not better.”

Ginny nodded agreement. “I don’t do wards, so I can’t say much about the house in France, but I know our Charms Expert had a hard time for a while.”

Draco looked expectantly at Blaise. “Will you be able to join us?”

Blaise grimaced. “I can get you in past the wards, but I’ll have to scram after that. I can’t risk being hit again.”

“Understandably.” Draco suppressed his pain over his still recovering friend. “We’ll take what we can get.” He turned back to the map. “Once we’re inside, Ginny, Goyle, and I will scour the house room by room. Daphne, Warrington, you two make sure we're alone in the house, and then guard the perimeter.”

Warrington frowned. “Why can’t I go inside where all the action is?”

“It’s the perimeter’s job to confront any other wizards on the premises.” Draco raised an eyebrow. “If my assumption was wrong, and you’d rather rifle through bank statements and old scrapbooks, be my guest.”

Raising his hands in surrender, Warrington backed off.

Draco continued. “Ginny, Goyle, and I will start in the study, hence our entry to the house at this point outside the garden. We’ll go through the rooms in a clockwise direction, ending up in the living room.” He looked to Ginny. “Lieutenant? Anything you’d like to add?”

She looked pleased at being remembered. “I’ve contacted Harry, and in the case of extreme emergency, send a Patronus to him. He’ll bring reinforcements immediately. I must stress that, if we call him in, it will be deemed a failure, no matter what else we do.” Her mouth drew taut. “We won’t get another chance like this.”

Goyle hemmed awkwardly. “I can’t do a Patronus.”

Ginny nodded, taking it in stride. “Alright, who can?”

No one volunteered.

It stopped her cold. “Seriously? Have any of you even tried?”

Blaise shrugged. “It’s one of the few charms that didn’t work for me.”

Ginny couldn’t believe it. “Daphne?” But the girl just shook her head.

“It’s generally assumed that Dark wizards can’t cast Patronuses, Ginny,” Draco volunteered quietly. “If they fail badly enough, the spell will kill them.” His face tightened. “It’s why most of us haven’t tried.”

“I counted on being neutral enough to confuse it,” Blaise added with a forced grin.

Ginny ran a hand over her face, clearly distraught by the news. “I guess you’ll just have to keep me alive long enough to cast it. You all know the distress call?” Each member of the team raised their wands, red sparks and a piercing eagle cry blasting forth. Ginny nodded in approval, looking back to Draco.

“Any questions?” He surveyed his team, all eagerly awaiting the mission. Thankfully, they understood the importance of seriousness for once. Draco nodded decisively. “Then let’s move out.”

The Nott residence perched on a small hill overlooking the Cork harbor a few miles away. With a clear sky and lush greenery surrounding, it was a gorgeous day. Ivy entwined on the wrought iron fence, the tranquility utterly at odds with Draco's anxiousness.

Blaise rolled up to the fence. "This place has got wards, all right." With him absorbed in his work, the team had to wait.

Shielding her eyes, Ginny eagerly took in the distant bay. "How did the Notts manage to get this place?"

Daphne shrugged. "Cause the rest of us had the better ones."

The wards cracked audibly. Blaise backed away with a slight frown. "That should do it. I wouldn't get your hopes up though. It was just a hefty Anti-apparition with a few other standards. Not what I'd call high-security."

Likely a waste of their time. Draco tried to keep spirits high. "We'll still take a look around. You're good to go, Blaise."

With a nod, Blaise Disapparated.

The iron fence parted, vines peeling back, as Draco stepped towards it. He motioned the team to follow.

The garden lay still and near-silent save for a light strumming of music, and the faint trickle of water.  On approach, he saw it came from the fountain: a statue in the middle enchanted to play the harp. Draco unconsciously hummed along with it.

Ginny came up by his flank. "Homenium Revelio!" She nodded. "No one here so far."

He moved forward, steadily scanning for any signs of movement. A simple Alohamora unlocked the study doors, and they were inside. "Daphne, Warrington, make sure we're alone."

They split off into the next room, wands at the ready.

The study was larger than the blueprint had made it seem. Floor to ceiling windows let in plenty of light, towering bookshelves lining the pale wooden walls.

Draco felt a piece of his soul die: this was just one room in the likely useless residence.

"I'll start with the desk." Ginny sighed wearily, and he couldn't agree more.

Draco turned reluctantly to the main bookshelf. It stretched easily six feet taller than him. A ladder to the side was the only way to reach the top few shelves. Inside books were great hiding places, so of course he'd have to flip through every single one.

Goyle uselessly examined the walls and floor.

Ginny looked up from the desk, head cocked curiously. "The music stopped."

Draco spun towards the garden. A sickly green sludge overflowed from the fountain, creeping through the open doors towards them. Instantly, every door slammed shut, windows bolting down. The sludge reared, spreading up the walls and towards them in every direction.

"The wards are back up!" Ginny shouted. "I can't Apparate!"

They launched every spell they knew at it.  Freezing, burning, blasting--even the Killing Curse had no effect. The sludge kept rushing forward. He had no idea what it did, but desperately didn’t want to find out. Anything with this insane amount of spell-resistance wasn’t meant to be stopped.

“Draco and Goyle!” Ginny called. She beckoned to Draco from atop the desk. “Get up here!”

Eagerly, he clambered up. A tendril of the sludge clawed its way between Goyle and the desk. He backed helplessly against the wall.

As the sludge crawled over the bookcase, some of the books disintegrated instantly. Others, it slid harmlessly over, continuing its creep toward the back of the room.

With the realization, Draco swore violently. “It's destroying evidence!"

Quickly, he scanned the room for anything he could grab before the unstoppable sludge got to it. High on the wall, a lone shelf with odds and ends disintegrated as the sludge crept over it. A pair of glasses, a broken wand--nothing worthy of destruction. With a double take, Draco saw the last item: Richard Murstow's belt buckle. Trophies, he realized with horror. "Accio buckle!" He pocketed the damning evidence.

"Help!" Goyle shouted. The sludge engulfed his feet, slowly creeping its way up his legs. "I can't move!"

Draco and Ginny targeted the sludge nearest Goyle, but with no better results than before. A screeching eagle distress call came from the next room. Nothing they could do, Draco fired off a return distress call, hoping Daphne and Warrington could hold out.

The sludge crept up the legs of the desk. Ginny tried different shields. It slid unhindered through all of them.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Goyle's spell lifted Draco and Ginny safely into the air, his surprisingly quick thinking buying them time. "Hurry, guys, I think it's rising!" From the thighs down, the sludge pinned Goyle in place. His wand hand shook as he held them aloft.

“Ginny,” Draco panicked, floating sideways. Above him, he had a fantastic view of the sludge consuming the ceiling. No surface remained uncovered. “Please tell me you have an idea!”

“I’m trying!” Her eyes sparked with determination. "Did the Notts play Quidditch?"

"Yes--"

"Accio broom!"

Following her lead, Draco cried, "Accio Nimbus!"

Moments later, two brooms smashed through the sludge and window behind. A tantalizing gap hung in the wall, but shrinking quickly.

Draco and Ginny gladly hopped on the brooms, the vertigo of hanging weightless happily disappearing.

"Get Daphne and Warrington!" Draco called to Ginny. She nodded, darting through the shrinking hole in a flash.

Draco swooped down to Goyle. He thrashed as frantically as he could in the sludge. But as it came chest high, his wrists were all that were left free. Goyle achieved only irreverently hilarious wrist flutters. Draco fired hexes, without expecting it to help, and was correct.

He quickly compiled what he knew about the sludge. Immensely spell-resistant (immune?), slow-moving, ignores shields, destroys evidence...but leaves innocuous things alone.

In desperation, he cast the Notice-Me-Not charm on Goyle. The sludge released its grip, swirling harmlessly around him. Draco grasped Goyle's outstretched hand. Bracing himself, he heaved his heavy teammate up onto the back of the broom. Draco would be feeling that one later.

He spun, looking for options. The sludge completely covered the opening the brooms had created earlier. Every other window or door should still be bolted shut, though. Not liking the only option he could think of, Draco cast another Notice-Me-Not charm on himself and then on the broom.

Gritting his teeth and hoping his memory was correct, he charged straight for where he remembered the hole to be. "Hold your breath, Goyle!"

The sludge sucked them in hungrily. Eyes squeezed shut, all Draco could do was hold the course. He couldn't tell if they were still moving forward. It felt like the longest minute of his life.

Sputtering and gasping, they burst forth on the other side.

Relief instantly covered Ginny’s face. All three floated on her broom. Daphne clung to Ginny, looking terrified, but holding Daphne, Warrington was still relatively unfazed. Did anything bother that man?!

“How did you go through the sludge?” Ginny asked, frowning in concentration.

“Notice-Me-Not charm,” Draco replied, scanning the room. “Have you found any exits?”

Ginny, Daphne, and Warrington instantly cast it on themselves and the broom. “None whatsoever.”

Draco scanned the room. Sludge covered every inch of this room as well. It looked to be a few feet deep and still growing. The little cube of free air they hovered in shrunk as they spoke. He estimated that within a minute, the entire room would be filled with only sludge.

A new idea lit up Ginny’s face. “The walls aren’t spell-proof, only the sludge!”

Draco frowned. “If you see a free wall, please let me know.”

She ignored his comment. “How well did the broom fly through the sludge?”

He shrugged helplessly. “I couldn’t tell. It might not have made it much farther through.”

Ginny nodded, processing the information. “I say we fly into the sludge until we hit a wall, and blast it out. Bubblehead Charm just in case it takes more time than we have air.”

It was a good plan. Draco instantly stopped feeling like he would be buried alive. It had not been a pleasant feeling. The slime still pressed in from every direction, growing claustrophobically quickly. “The outer wall. Now, while we still have time.”

Nearly as one, the team cast their Bubblehead Charms. Ginny and he flew for the wall as fast as they could manage. The sludge hit with a sickening squelch, sucking on his arms and legs. As soon as his whole body passed into the slime, Draco felt like he would be sick. It pressed hideously from every direction, getting worse with each second.

The Bubblehead Charm shrank under the pressure. It was designed for water, not this heavy substance, Draco realized with horror. He sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes for the inevitable.

The bubble burst.

The sludge ran up Draco’s nose and down his throat. He felt it worm its way inside his ears. Shuddering, he endured the agony, and pressed on. If he had any other options, he would have taken them instantly.

Moments still dragging by, his air supply dwindled. His lungs burned as he desperately hung onto the broom, forcing every last ounce of speed out of it.

His lungs hungrily needed air. Sluggishly, Draco stretched a hand in front, searching for the wall. Nothing but more sludge. Had he missed it? Had he angled his broom improperly?

His fingers brushed something. Desperately, he pushed towards it. A wall. He didn’t know if he had enough energy to do a non-verbal spell, but what other options were there? Summoning every last ounce of strength, he blasted the wall with everything in him.

The wall exploded outwards. Draco tumbled through the hole, gasping for breath on the ground. Goyle retched, but was still breathing, and therefore fine. The sludge jiggled tremulously, but fortunately remained within the confines of the house.

Where was Ginny? With mounting alarm, Draco realized with three people aboard, her broom would have been considerably slower. Would she have enough air to reach the wall? A clenched fist of ice in his stomach told him the answer.

Panicking, he exploded the entire wall. The sludge formed another wall behind it, with no discernible markings. Even Draco’s brief opening had closed over.

Re-casting the Notice-Me-Not for good measure, Draco sucked in a deep breath. Desperately wishing for anything else, he plunged back in. Time was running out. He left a hand outside the sludge so he could find his way back, and groped blindly with his wand in the other. He felt nothing.

With all his might, Draco pictured Ginny Weasley, casting the Seize and Pull Charm. A rope shot from his wand, deep into the sludge. Hoping it hit, he backed out of the sludge, pulling as he went. Fresh air on his face felt amazing, and he breathed hungrily.

“Goyle!” he yelled desperately, “Help me pull!” Goyle ran over, lending his considerable weight and strength to the venture.

With a slurp and a pop, an unconscious Ginny tumbled out onto the grass. Thankfully, all three had glued themselves to the broom, and Daphne and Warrington followed, in equally bad shape.

“Wake them!” Draco commanded Goyle, gesturing to Daphne and Warrington. He ran to Ginny.

“Ennervate.” With eyes closed and face terrifyingly pale, luckily she was still breathing. Although the spell had little effect. With more energy, Draco tried again. With a gasp, she jerked awake, retching violently next to her. An ungodly amount of slime came out of her. Draco looked away, for fear he’d be next.

“Everyone ok?” Ginny asked hoarsely.

Draco nodded. “We got the last of them out. Are you alright?”

She dropped back into the grass to catch her breath. “Let’s never do a mission without Blaise ever again, yeah?”

“Would Blaise have--” Draco started to ask, but stopped as he realized every spell they’d cast had been a charm.

Daphne and Warrington sputtered into consciousness over by Goyle.

“I’m so glad I made it through that,” Ginny said, laughing lightly. “I think I would have died a second time if my tombstone read, ‘Killed by slime’.”

Draco couldn’t agree more.

"Let me get this straight." Hermione stared down the two Aurors in front of her desk. "You didn't find Nott or Macnair, and you destroyed a house-full of evidence. And you have the audacity to call this mission a success because of a belt-buckle?!"

Draco's face tightened unreadably. "We have determined that Nott was involved with, and likely responsible for, Richard Murstow's death. We have reason to suspect that this was the headquarters for a good number of renegade Death Eaters. And we did all of this without sustaining a single injury," Draco added, temper rising. "Tell me again how we failed."

Harry leaned idly against the wall, tapping his wand against his arm. "Ginny? Why didn't you call for backup?"

"Because we didn't need it, sir," she snapped, eyes blazing. "As demonstrated."

Harry was taken aback, but said nothing.

Hermione sighed. "It could have been worse--"

“Much, much worse,” Ginny added darkly.

“--but it could have been better. Surely you can see that.”

“Much, much better,” Harry added. “You guys stumbled across a treasure trove of helpful information, and now not a page of it remains.”

"I don't think you quite understand," Draco responded icily. "This wasn't some home we knocked over. That ward was designed to lure Aurors in--and kill every one of them."

Hermione shook her head. "It was foolish to go in without a Charms Expert. I assumed you would've taken a replacement."

"That ward was designed to withstand three squads of Aurors," Draco growled.

"We'll admit we should have taken a Charms Expert," Ginny added, "but we still did a darn good job, just staying alive."

Hermione rubbed at her face wearily. “Yes, yes you did. Harry?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not disappointed. I expected a total disaster, and you were able to get some good info. Also, no one died,” he smirked.

“If he’s happy, I won’t interfere.” She waved a hand helplessly. “Figure out what you can, and we’ll have a meeting to pull together the next step of the plan.”

“Thank you for omitting the slime ingestion from your report,” Draco mentioned to Ginny as they walked back to the Training Room. “Bloody awful to get that out of everyone. Nearly qualified as an injury for Warrington.”

Ginny chuckled darkly. “I’m still upset you didn’t puke like the rest of us peasants.”

“I am the scion of House Malfoy,” he haughtily intoned, “From an early age we are taught never to be publicly indisposed. Besides, we’re made of sterner stuff than ordinary folk.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You weren’t in it as long as the rest of us.”

“I had to go back in to get your sorry excuse for an Auror out.” He raised an eyebrow self-importantly. “You owe me tea for that, Weasley.”

“Fine,” she laughed, purposely bumping into him. It caught Draco completely off balance, sending him sprawling into the wall. Ginny let out an undignified snort. “Sterner stuff, eh?”

Scowling, Draco brushed himself off. “Ha,” he laughed sarcastically. He’d get her back for that, but found it unwise to broadcast intentions. “What are you doing today?”

She shrugged. “I was thinking of heading to Diagon Alley, restocking on all the stuff that blew up.”

“Should I be alarmed?” he asked. “It sounds like you’re tired of living like a vagrant and properly moving in.”

Ginny tossed him a teasing grin. “You could always come along and keep me out of trouble.”

Did he want to spend more time with the Weaselette? Surprisingly, the answer came without hesitation. “That sounds wise. Otherwise you might start hanging tapestries of Godric Gryffindor all around the place.”

She looked off in the distance thoughtfully. “My room really could use some more red and gold…”

Fairly certain she was joking, the thought still panicked him. “That wasn’t meant to give you any ideas!”

The Leaky Cauldron hadn’t changed much, even through the war. Tom still bowed to them from behind the counter as they passed. Belatedly, Draco realized the bow was likely not for him, but for his companion.

“What exactly are you stocking up on?” Draco asked. “I should have been more specific before blindly volunteering my services. I don’t know how much of your mischief I can keep at bay.”

Ginny grinned broadly. She looked smashing, cheeks flushed from the crisp autumn wind, and red hair glittering in the sunlight. “A little of everything, really. Tell me, is your mother opposed to animals? I was thinking of getting a fire crab.”

Now he knew she was joking. “Don’t make me regret calling you a good houseguest.”

“But I thought you had to save me from my idea of human dignity?”

“If your idea of human dignity includes a fire crab, I’ll save you from that too.”

Jokingly, she frowned in concentration. “Hmm, I guess getting a new broom can wait. My dignity requires new coats, a few dresses, all my shoes were destroyed--”

Grabbing her arm, Draco practically dragged her toward Quality Quidditch Supplies. “You lost me at broom.”

Laughing, Ginny willingly let Draco pull her along. “You don’t plan to discourage my unladylike obsession with Quidditch?”

He looked back at her with a smirk. “I plan on feeding it until it’s as monstrous as my own.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him as he opened the door for her. “I should race you in a track you don’t own, Malfoy. Then we’ll see whose obsession is monstrous.”

Draco chuckled as she walked in. “You’re on, Weasley.”

Once inside, Ginny paused to soak in all the wonderful smells and sights. Newly oiled leather, bludgers bouncing threateningly in their cages, and, best of all: the display of brooms. She collected the required goods and equipment, including the still excellent Nimbus 2000.

“What, only Chaser gear?” Draco asked. “I thought you used to be a Seeker for a while.”

She shrugged. “Anything to get on the team, but I’ve always been a Chaser.”

“Seeker isn’t just anything,” Draco scoffed. “It’s the most important position!”

Shaking her head at him fondly, she paid for the expensive gear and broom with a wince, ordering it delivered to the Burrow.

“You’ll pick it up from there, I’m assuming?” Draco asked her as they left.

She nodded. “ ‘Undisclosed location’ wouldn’t work too well if all my packages are delivered to your front doorstep.”

He chuckled. “No, it would not.”

As they entered Flourish and Blotts, Draco spotted a lone Monster Book of Monsters struggling against the metal clasps binding it shut. “Merlin, I hated that class.”

“Come on,” Ginny grinned. “Anything that tried to rip a chunk out of you can’t be all bad.”

“Stop wasting time insulting me and hurry up, Weasley,” Draco growled amiably. “We don’t have all day. What do you need here?”

She shrugged. “Nothing specific, really. I just feel more homeless than anything without my books.”

As they browsed, Draco realized he was willingly running errands, a task he usually loathed. Not only willingly, but enjoying it.

The sole cause of his enjoyment rifled through the books stacked in front of her. “Look at this,” Ginny pulled out a copy of Magical Me by Gilderoy Lockhart, holding it gingerly by a corner as if fending off its disease. “I can’t believe they still have these around. I wonder why Dumbledore thought Lockhart would be able to teach us anything other than his favorite color.”

Draco nodded blankly at her, his brain still trying to process the new information. He found her attractive and volunteered to do things he hated to spend time with her…

Ginny’s brow creased with worry. “I just insulted Dumbledore and you didn’t respond. Are you feeling alright?”

Feeling the heat rush to his cheeks, Draco shook his head violently. “I think I need to sit down,” he managed weakly.

Ginny led him to a small bench in the corner. Sitting next to him, she pressed her hand against his forehead, staring intently at his face. “You seem a little warm. What’s wrong?”

“I’m probably fine,” he lied, intimately aware of the brush of her fingers against his skin. “Just had a momentary…” He racked his brain, trying to think of a manly-sounding ailment. “...dizzy spell?” And failing utterly.

She smirked at him. “How’s that tough Malfoy constitution doing for you?”

“It’s doing fine, thank you,” he gritted out, forcibly regaining his composure. “Come on, let’s get your books and go.”

A few wizards gave them odd looks as they stood in line, but Draco ignored them. He’d had worse. Mainly, his mind was preoccupied with the fiery redhead next to him, seemingly enjoying his presence as much as he did hers.

About to walk out with her purchases, Ginny stopped in the entryway, laughing to herself. “And here’s where we met!” She turned to Draco, smirking. “I believe you insulted my family and called me Harry’s girlfriend.”

"A gentleman like myself would never utter such foul things," Draco replied. "I don't know about your family, but you with Scarhead is flat-out repulsive."

Ginny smiled. He could tell as a bad thought hit her, and her light-hearted mood vanished. "Did you know that your father slipped me Tom Riddle's diary?"

Draco had completely forgotten. "I had no idea at the time," he replied quietly. "Although I wasn't upset when I found out."

He had no idea what spurred him to be so honest, but she seemed to appreciate it. "Worst memories of my life started right here," she added softly.

Draco gingerly put his arm around her, hand resting lightly on the small of her back. She didn't freak out or hex him, so it seemed to be alright. "Let's go make better ones then. I'll treat you to some ice cream?"

She leaned into him and his heart nearly exploded. Smiling softly, she said, "That sounds delightful."

Draco ate his ice cream slowly, savoring the moment, and trying to decide what to do about his Ginny problem.

The girl in question smirked at him from across the table. “You have ice cream on your nose.”

He scrubbed furiously at it. She giggled at his attempts.

"What else do you need to get today?" Draco asked her.

Ginny shrugged, cone held lazily in her hand. "I need to stop by Madame Malkin's for new Auror's robes. Don't panic, I already know my size! I shouldn't take long." Draco chuckled at that. With a mischievous grin, she added, "And then I hoped to show you Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. I'm assuming you haven't been?"

"I’ve been briefly. I'm not sure I'd be welcome there now, though," he responded tentatively.

Ginny frowned. "Fred and George love me more than they hate you. They'll give you the grand tour if I ask them to."

Not quite convinced, Draco raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of his ice cream. "If you say so."

"You'll be fine," she replied firmly, as if deciding it for the twins. "What are you doing after?"

"I'm meeting Blaise for a bit."

Her face instantly became concerned. "How's he doing?"

Draco shrugged. "That's what we're going to find out." Ginny nodded distractedly and he found her worry adorable. "Ginny," he prodded with a small smile, "Blaise is getting better, just too slowly. He'll be fine."

She raised her eyebrow at him playfully. "Well, if the Great Draco Malfoy said it, then it must be true."

He smiled haughtily. "I'm glad someone finally understands."

She shook her head fondly at him. "From the man who refused chocolate ice cream."

"Vanilla is good," he replied, frowning.

"But chocolate is delicious! And you admitted you haven't tried Fortescue's chocolate!" she insisted. Ginny could forgive being a Death Eater. Forgiving not liking chocolate was an entirely different matter.

She stuck a spoon into her cone, scooping out a bite and holding it tantalizingly in front of him. "You haven't lived until you've tried it!" she taunted.

"Fine," Draco agreed unwillingly. Before he could grab the spoon from her, she slipped it in his mouth.

It was hard to taste the chocolate through the rising embarrassment. "Mmm, good," he lied weakly.

Ginny rolled her eyes, taking the spoon back. "You're not even trying."

She scooped him another bite, but Draco snatched it out of her grasp. "I can feed myself, thank you very much!"

She giggled wickedly. "Just try it!"

He did. Without the added topping of humiliation, it tasted like heaven. "Merlin, what do they put in this thing?!"

Ginny's victorious grin was nearly worth it. "A swirl of fudge, some Muggle cookies called the Oreos, and a hint of mint. Better than plain old vanilla?" she gloated.

"Quiet, you," he growled, and helped himself to another bite.

Madame Malkin's was in sight as they left Fortescue's.

“I can’t believe your idea of a love-letter was that Potter’s eyes were the color of picked toads,” Draco teased as they walked, absently fingering his wand. “I mean, what kind of a psycho likes Harry-I’m-the-Chosen-One-Potter?’

Laughing, Ginny punched his arm. “I was eleven, ok? And who are you to talk? You dated Pansy the Pug!”

“Valid point, but still not even in the same league as Potter.” Draco shoved back into her. “I mean, what kind of idiot--”

“Expelliarmus!” a strange voice yelled.

Too late, Draco grasped for the wand as it flew from his hand. A hooded figure in the alley next to Madame Malkin’s caught it.

Immediately, Ginny rolled, the green blast of a Killing Curse only inches above her head. “Reducto!” she fired as she landed. The wall next to the figure exploded.

Draco dropped behind a bench. “Accio wand!” Try as he might, wandless magic had never been his forte. Now was no exception.

Two more hooded figures appeared behind the first. “Avada Kedavra!” one yelled.

Ginny rolled again, although it would have missed. “Incendio!” she shot back, fire erupting. The Death Eaters, now in the open, were forced to stand apart. Three different targets, and all firing on Ginny.

Nearly as one, they each cast the Killing Curse. Ginny dropped flat against the ground. Three green streaks slashed by, all missing. One only missed by a hair.

Draco had never felt so terrified and utterly useless. Why did they ignore him, though? He was the sitting duck, not Ginny, so brilliantly fighting for her life.

“Reducto!” she screamed furiously. The ground in front of the Death Eaters exploded, throwing them backwards. “Stupefy!” She hit one, and he stayed down.

The second one fired off another Killing Curse, and Ginny rolled. Each time, a different direction, keeping it unpredictable. But every roll forced her farther from Draco and his bench.

“Accio wand!” Draco yelled without success. Still, no one bothered targeting him. As the Death Eaters fired Killing Curse after Killing Curse, a thought hit Draco that made his blood run cold.

Feeling far too much like a Gryffindor, Draco ran towards Ginny. He hunched over to reduce his target area just in case.

She barely spared him a glance. “Confringo!” she yelled again and again, holding her ground fearlessly.

Draco felt like an idiot standing in the open at Ginny’s side. “Stay close to me! I don’t think they’ll fire!”

“Crucio!” a Death Eater called.

Ginny deflected it. “Expelliarmus!” she returned fire.

The Stupefied Death Eater slowly got to his feet. “Flipendo!”

“Confringo!” another yelled.

The first missed, but the fire blast knocked Ginny and Draco backwards, singeing them.

Regaining her footing, she cried, “Expelliarmus!” and it hit. The Death Eater flew backwards, his wand flinging free.

Draco lunged for the fallen wand. Grasping it firmly, he yelled, “Accio my wand!” The familiar wood flew to his hand. He stood victoriously. “Crucio!” he cast and a Death Eater dropped, writhing in pain.

“Confringo!” Ginny roared.

The flames exploded over the Death Eaters. When they cleared, all three had Apparated away.

Ginny and Draco surveyed the area, casting Dark-Detecting spells to make sure they had gone.

She turned to him, intense concentration on her face. “They stopped using the Killing Curse once you came over. How did you know?”

A crowd started to form, people rushing to see who had been attacked. “A sneaking suspicion,” Draco replied guardedly. Before the spectators swarmed them, he pulled Ginny aside, whispering in her ear. “It’s not safe. Get to the Burrow, or back to the Manor. I’ll see you later tonight after I check on Blaise.”

She nodded, thankfully trusting him, and Disapparated.

Draco and Blaise strode (and rolled) through the all-too-familiar halls of Hogwarts. Once, it had felt like home. Now, it took everything in Draco to force the unwanted memories from resurfacing. Being a bully and all-around prat came to nothing in comparison with his sixth and seventh years. A dark, wry grin emerged. Odd how finally being a Death Eater forced him to realize how much he hated it.

The door before them opened. The only other man who truly fathomed Draco’s pain stood before them. “Malfoy, Zabini,” Snape inclined his head in greeting. With the same black robes and greasy hair, the addition of the fang-mark scar upon his neck stood out vividly. It did not help his nickname as the Vampire of the Dungeon. “You’re late,” he said with the now ever-present rasp.

Draco gave him a tight smile. “Had a bit of a run in with some Death Eaters. Diagon Alley, of all places.”

Snape’s eyes widened at that. He understood, as Draco did, that it was a sign of strength that they’d strike so openly.

He beckoned them in, walking over to his cabinets. “An odd request you made of me, but an interesting one,” Snape rasped. “The medical report you sent said Blaise was hit with two different spells.”

Blaise nodded. “St. Mungo’s was fairly sure one was the Cruciatus Curse.”

“I read as much, and agree,” Snape muttered mostly to himself. “The combination explains the nerve damage.”

He cast a diagnostic spell on Blaise and began mixing vials together. Draco shifted awkwardly. “Did you hear about the Nott raid in Ireland?”

Snape didn’t bother to look up, nodding slowly. “Nasty business. That Fountain of Fun was most certainly designed to kill you.”

That caught Draco’s attention. “You’re familiar with it?”

“Hardly. But I have been to that home, during the Second Wizarding War. Lacked any sort of security whatsoever. I’m surprised the Notts bothered to fortify it at all, really.” Snape did look up, then, reading Draco as easily as he always had. “You seem troubled.”

“Their wards shouldn’t have been that good,” Blaise replied for Draco. “We know the Notts, and they’re hardly skilled wizards.”

“Decidedly so,” Snape replied, resuming his work. “Find anything of interest? Or is all of that classified?”

“The one thing we did find is classified,” Draco reluctantly replied. “Everything else self-destructed.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at the potion. “Surprisingly foresightful.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking too,” Draco muttered. The picture became clearer and clearer, and he had a strong dislike for what it painted.

Snape straightened, holding a flask. “This should do it,” he rasped. “I prepared the parts beforehand, and I believe the amounts are accurate.” He handed it to Blaise. “Drink.”

Blaise looked wonderingly at the flask. “This will…?”

Snape cast him a patronizing look. “Only if you drink it.” More kindly, he added, “You should see results by morning.”

Blaise downed the flask, making only a grimace at the likely horrendous taste. “Thank you,” he managed eventually, but meant it.

Snape gave a small, genuine smile. “It is a noble thing, what you and your squad do,” he rasped softly. “Were I not teaching, I would join it myself.”

His words caught Draco off-guard. “Thank you,” he barely managed without his voice cracking.

“Did you know that Slytherin House is at a record low for sorting?” The pain over his House that Snape normally hid surfaced despite his wishes. “All of those offered a choice choose elsewhere.”

“We’re doing our best to change that,” Draco replied softly.

Snape’s mouth twitched in a hint of a smile. “Then you have quite a task ahead of you.”

Hesitantly, Ginny knocked on Hermione’s door. Fred opened it, squeezing his sister in a bear hug. “Ginny’s here!” He announced over his shoulder, swinging his laughingly protesting sister into the living room.

The flat over Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes wasn’t large, but with some Expansion Charms and Hermione’s decorating skill, it had become a lovely little home.

The woman in question watched them from the doorway to the bedroom, smiling fondly at her husband and best friend. “Careful, Fred, she had a raid just yesterday.”

Fred examined Ginny from arm’s length. “Seems intact. Any nasty Slytherins I need to go beat up for you?”

Rolling her eyes, Ginny shoved past him. “If they needed hexing, I would have done it by now.”

Tousling her hair, Fred said, “Alright, I can tell when I’m not needed. I’ll leave you two ladies to it.”

Hermione curled up on the couch, patting the seat next to her. Ginny perched awkwardly, knowing she needed to talk to her friend, but not knowing what to expect.

“You haven’t taken Harry up on his offer,” Hermione threw out.

“I like my squad,” Ginny responded defiantly. “Sure, they’re not...normal or very nice, but I like them.”

Hermione frowned. “Not nice is one thing, Ginny. But mean, and cruel, and--”

“They’re not,” Ginny cut her off firmly. “I wasn’t kidding when I called them my friends. I don’t know Warrington, Daphne, or Goyle well, but they’re dedicated Aurors. Blaise or Draco? Even if the squad folded up tomorrow, I’d still count them as friends."

Hermione winced. “Malfoy?”

“Go on,” Ginny sighed. “Tell me the list of terrible things he’s done.”

Her friend looked away. “No, you know it just as well as I do.”

“He’s definitely a jerk, but…” Her cheeks flamed at the realization. Draco definitely would NOT have counted their day together as a date, not with her of all people...

Hermione watched Ginny intently. “But…?”

“But I wouldn’t be within ten feet of him if I thought he was even the slightest bit evil,” Ginny concluded. A memory of having his arm on her back, heat spreading from his touch, rose unbidden to her mind. Significantly less than ten feet, all right.

“And it’s easy to think he’s worse than he is, once you’ve made up your mind,” she added. “He called me repulsive a while ago--”

“He WHAT?!” Hermione exclaimed.

“--but apparently just thought I’d know he was joking, because obviously I’m not repulsive.” Ginny raised an eyebrow, Hermione’s reaction proving her point perfectly.

“Oh.” Her friend stared off in the distance for a while, processing.

Ginny chuckled. “Called me noble, too.”

Hermione gave her a level stare. “That had to have been an insult.”

“It was,” Ginny giggled. “But not entirely, and he meant it. That might have been a bad example, actually. But anyway, he’s prickly, he’s funny, and I like him.” Her face flushed as she realized the statement was truer than she’d meant it to be. Merlin, she did like him.

Hermione made a face. “So now I have to put up with the Amazing Bouncing Ferret at family dinners?”

Ginny snorted. “Well, no, that was just for you guys to get a chance to meet them fairly. I don’t think either side wants a repeat of the Burrow.”

“Thank Merlin.” Hermione gave her a scrutinizing look that Ginny had come to be very wary of. “Just how close of friends are you, anyway?”

Ginny swallowed. “Close...ish?” Her face flamed as bright as her hair, a tell Ginny had never been able to stop.

Hermione’s mouth fell open in shock. “Ginny! You’re not...you’re not--”

“We’re not,” she could answer honestly. “Not dating, not anything.”

Again, Hermione read her like a book. “But you’re not...opposed to that?” The shock faded, to be replaced by confused disgust.

“Don’t worry, Hermione!” Ginny answered with false brightness. “I’m still a Weasley, and that’ll keep him further from me than anything you could conjure up.”

Her best friend tried for a look of sympathy, even if it fell short. “I won’t lie and say I’m sorry about that.” Hermione’s face twisted as she attempted to say the words. “But I will say...that I wish you had better taste in men?”

Ginny laughed, chucking a couch pillow at her, amidst Hermione’s shrieks and pillows fired in return.

And everything was right in the world.

Ginny plopped down next to Draco on his couch. A mischievous grin twitched on her face. "You'll never guess what the Daily Prophet's headline is today."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Weasley Witch Impresses All--Malfoy Hunts for Wand?"

Her grin grew. "Even better. Well, funnier, at least."

With no idea what to expect, he took the newspaper from her. Draco choked at the actual title. "Wild Date for Weasley and Malfoy--Death Eaters Disapprove?!" Apparently paparazzi had followed them, because right below it stood an enormous picture of the moment Ginny fed Draco her ice cream. It played back in an endless loop, the intimacy clearly evident in the shot.

"Yep," Ginny replied, barely restraining her laughter. "It goes on to explain how of course the Death Eaters can't abide our love. It praises our daring defense of pursuing your heart's desire no matter what everyone else thinks."

Draco barely heard her. The article continued on to describe their forbidden love all throughout their Hogwarts years (complete with eyewitnesses?!) interspersed with incredibly incriminating photos: Ginny laughing as Draco drug her to Quality Quidditch, Draco's arm around her as they left Flourish and Blott's, and...

"They think I tried to jump in front of a Killing Curse?!" Draco shrieked. "What do they think I am, mental?!"

Ginny laughed uproariously. "That's my favorite part! 'The battle maiden fights fiercely as her wandless protector offers the only thing he can--his life!'" She broke into another laughing fit, nearly rolling off the couch.

"You memorized it," Draco stated darkly.

She grinned unabashedly. "Yep! And don't think for a second that I'll ever forget it!"

It angered Draco that someone had bothered to take pictures of Ginny nearly dying without once lifting their wand to help. "These people need something better to do with their lives," he fumed.

"Undoubtedly," Ginny quickly agreed. "But it sure as hell is amusing!"

They even caught the moment where he whispered in her ear, dubbing it, 'The ex-Death Eater reassures the Darling of Dumbledore's Army with a kiss.' He’d have to find a way to surreptitiously keep this paper. Even though the contexts were hilariously inaccurate, their photographer deserved one heck of a pay raise. And a firing.

"DRACO!" His mother's shriek carried through the entire house.

Ginny clapped a hand to her mouth, far too amused by the whole thing. "This'll be bloody fantastic," Draco growled. "If my suicidal corpse is found, know I was framed."

Draco approached his mother's study with great hesitation, not the faintest idea how he'd explain away the mostly-true article.

He leaned against the open doorway, knocking lightly on the frame. "You called?"

His mother smiled thinly, hands clasped atop her ornate mahogany desk. "Sit. And explain."

Draco closed the door behind him and sat.

She shoved the article at him, which he didn't bother to look at. "What in particular, Mother?"

Narcissa’s eyes narrowed. “You went out with the Weasley girl.”

With a nod, he flatly replied. “Yes. She replaced what burned in the fire.”

“But you-- you--!” she gestured broadly to the article. Finally, she picked it up, jabbing a finger at the soon-to-be-notorious ice cream moment so proudly displayed.

Clenching his jaw shut, Draco thought of nothing to say.

His mother’s eyes widened with the realization. “You actually…?”

“What’s wrong with her?!” he exploded. “She’s a pureblood, for Merlin’s sake, and one no one would bloody look down on me for dating!”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Dating?” she replied in horror.

Internally horrified that he’d let it slip, Draco knew he still had to strike while the iron was hot. “Think of it, Mother. There’s absolutely nothing it can do to hurt us. In fact, I bet it’s already doing loads for the family image. For all the Weasleys helping Harry Potter, everyone's forgotten that they're still purebloods.”

Draco had never seen his mother look so defeated. “But she’s so poor...and so friendly with Muggles…and a Weasley...”

He waited out her emotional outburst. The last thing he needed was his mother interfering in whatever he eventually decided to do. Besides, she had always been an invaluable ally.

Finally, she looked up at him, an incredible sadness in her face. “What do you want, Draco? If it’s her, I’ll stand behind you every step of the way. But don’t you dare do this for the family.”

Once again, he’d underestimated her. “Thank you,” he replied genuinely. “I’m not sure what I want yet, but it may well be Ginny.”

“GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY--!” a furious voice screeched from rooms away.

“Muffiliato!” Ginny cut it off.

“Was that--?” Narcissa asked, frowning in consternation.

Draco nodded sagely. “A Howler.”

Draco gave Ginny a few minutes privacy before walking back out. “Everything alright?” he asked guardedly, knowing very well that it most definitely wasn’t.

Ginny jumped, accidentally scattering the ashes. “Oh! Uh, yes, I guess so.” She faced him with a tight smile. “What a surprise, my parents disapprove!”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You expected differently?”

She snorted, looking away. “Not at all. I just hoped all the times Harry had been slandered would have taught them not to jump to conclusions.”

Slandered. He tried to hide his flinch. “Rest assured.” His tone remained carefully neutral. “My mother is no less pleased by the slander.”

A repressed smile twitched around Ginny’s lips. “Really? After all the things that have been said about your family, this gets her angry? Gosh, I almost feel complimented.”

Draco watched her carefully, unsure how to take her joking. “And after you joined Slytherin Squad, does your family still have any disapproval left to muster up?”

Her smile broke into a full-fledged grin. “Don’t worry, when it comes to my love life, they’ll always find a way. Speaking of the squad, let’s make sure they haven’t mutinied in the wake of the rumors.”

Rumors, Draco had to remind himself.

Goyle and Warrington hadn’t even noticed the article, let alone cared. So once again, the four remaining healthy members were left lazing uselessly in the Training Room. At the sound of the door opening, they started.

“Miss me?” Blaise drawled, striding inside. Ginny jumped up, throwing her arms around the Slytherin, who chuckled and returned the hug. Daphne followed in behind him, clearly having had their reunion in private.

“How do you feel?” Draco asked, not bothering to hide his grin.

Blaise shrugged. “Nearly right as rain. A bit unstable, but nothing holding me back.” He put his arm around Ginny, who didn’t protest, and smirked up at Draco. “I hear we’ve missed a rather large announcement though.”

“Oh?” Draco raised an eyebrow.

A wicked grin spread across Blaise’s face. “When’s the wedding?”

“We haven’t set a date yet,” Ginny responded primly. “We have to make sure the planets are aligned properly before mixing the blood of a Malfoy with such an inferior strain.”

Draco choked. As everyone else laughed uproariously, he stood in stunned silence.

“Lighten up, Malfoy,” Daphne teased. “We know you’re not marrying her, even if no one else does. How’d they manage to get those pictures, though? Some of them look pretty convincing.”

Ginny frowned at that. “We were just hanging out. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if Death Eaters hadn’t shown up.” Blaise still draped his arm around the Weaselette’s shoulder, who didn’t even seem to notice its presence. A terrible thought hit Draco, that she hadn’t thought it was a big deal, really did think Draco had just been friendly…

Blaise caught his eye and knew Draco far too well. “Surely some shenanigans were had,” Blaise asked Ginny.

Ginny smiled at Draco. “They were.” Unfortunately, the effect was lost on him, as his mind still reeled from the whiplash of how casually she interacted with Blaise.

“Lieutenant?” Draco asked stiffly. “I believe you summoned this meeting for a reason?”

She nodded, stepping away from Blaise and turned to the rest of the team. “Today, you're all learning how to cast Patronuses. No more ‘Dark Wizards can’t cast them!’ excuses out of any of you.”

“But they can’t,” Goyle protested.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Yes, exactly. And if you’re on this squad, you aren’t bloody one of them!”

Slytherin Squad moved inside the spell-proof glass, just in case. Ginny spent the better part of the day going around, correcting wand-work, pronunciation, and casting her own horse Patronus in demonstration. At the end of the day, Blaise might have produced a fine mist, but no one was exactly sure. It certainly wasn’t enough to scare off a rabbit, let alone a Dementor, and was less than useless at the intended purpose of carrying messages.

Every time Draco tried the spell, he could feel maggots about to crawl out of his wand and eat him alive. Hopefully, it was only an overactive imagination, but he couldn’t be too sure.

Hours later, Ginny finally called a break. “You’ve all tried,” she announced to the sweaty, magically exhausted team. “Which is the best I can hope for for now. This won’t be the last lesson, but it’s a good first. Head on home.”

Blaise grabbed Daphne’s hands, twirling her around, and dipping her nearly to the floor. “First, I’m taking this ravishing lady to a proper dinner.”

Daphne blushed furiously, loving every second. “Not in my Auror robes!” she protested, but willingly Apparated away with him.

Draco was glad to see such a pointless day come to an end. About to head back to his house, a hand on his arm stopped him. “What do you want, Weasley?” he snapped.

She frowned, looking hurt. “I wanted to see if you’d let me teach you in private. But it’s fine, nevermind.”

Draco sighed. “I don’t think I’ll get it, Ginny.”

“I’m not willing to settle for that!” She scowled fiercely. “You’re a better person than you give yourself credit for. If it doesn’t kill Snape to cast it, it sure as hell won’t kill you.”

“Alright,” Draco agreed, quietly stunned by her protestations. “I’ll take us somewhere private.”

Very near the roof of Malfoy Manor, Ginny and Draco appeared on a large uncovered balcony on the fourth floor. Grasping the rail, she looked down--a straight drop onto the Quidditch pitch.

"Is this private enough for you?" Draco asked, knowing full-well it was.

"It'll do," Ginny smirked, pulling back from the railing.

Draco assumed the traditional stance, wand at the ready. Instead, Ginny sat on one of the outdoor couches, patting the seat next to her.

He lowered his wand. "What?"

"You're a talented wizard, Draco. I don't think the wand work is your problem." She beckoned him over. "Tell me about your happy memory."

Draco swallowed, walking over. She could see the hesitation as he perched next to her. "What about it?" he replied tightly.

Ginny smiled softly. "Just tell me why it's so special. Make me understand."

He sighed, and already Ginny could tell the memory was too bittersweet. "The first time my father was sent to Azkaban. My mother and I stayed up the entire night, playing Exploding Snap and keeping each other company." He looked away. "There was nothing we could do to help, so we just helped each other."

Ginny leaned against him. Draco stiffened at the contact momentarily, but relaxed, and wrapped an arm around her. "That sounds like a sad memory."

He shook his head. "It's not." Clearing his throat, he added. "It's one of my fondest memories of my mother."

"It's still probably too mixed of a memory for the Patronus charm," Ginny replied softly.

Draco looked down at her head resting against his chest. "What's your happy memory?"

Her smile instantly broadened. "The end of the war."

"Ah." He looked away.

"Not like that, silly," she chuckled at him. "Grand victories don't fuel Patronus charms." Her voice dropped. "I thought we'd lost Fred during the battle. Ron, Hermione, and Harry were so central to the whole thing, there was no way they'd all survive." She started to tear up, even now, and struggled to force them back. "But they did. Every single one. When I saw them again, my entire family all standing together alive--it was more than my wildest dream come true."

Draco rubbed her arm reassuringly. "I don't have a memory like that."

Ginny frowned. "Surely there's something? Some pure explosion of happiness?"

He pulled his arm back, using the other to push up its sleeve. The faint, raised scar of the Dark Mark stood ghostly white against his pale skin. "My entire life consists of two halves: wanting this, and hating it. Its taint rests on everything I've ever done." Even now, this was the first time he'd shown it willingly since Voldemort's defeat.

Ginny stretched out a hand towards it. "Can I...?"

Draco nodded. With a feather light touch, she traced the symbol that every decent witch and wizard feared.

"I'm the only one in the squad that has it." He stared intently at her fingers. “No one else did anything wrong.”

She frowned, her fingers resting on the skull. “I thought you did it for your family. So that Voldemort wouldn’t kill your parents.”

Grimacing, Draco looked away. “Eventually. I can’t blame them that I got it, though. I was far too excited to be Voldemort’s bloody Chosen One,” he spat the title.

Ginny gave a small smile, trying to lighten his mood. “But it’s the end that matters, right? Where you’re trying to make up for what went wrong?”

“And where I’ll always bear the Mark to show for it.” He yanked his sleeve back down. Or, tried to.

Ginny didn’t let go of his arm. The sleeve caught on her hands. He waited, unsure what she was up to. “I always knew it was there,” Ginny offered lightly. “I didn’t expect it to be so faint.”

Draco blinked hard, and she could see as the emotions caught in his throat. “It’s all I can see,” he finally managed.

“It’s not all I see,” Ginny replied. She slid one hand down his arm, lacing her fingers through his.

He sat still as a stone, not moving away, but not encouraging anything. “I need to try again,” he whispered.

Slowly, he stood, letting her hand drop. “Expecto Patronum!”

Silver mist spilled from his wand. It wasn’t large, but-- “That’s enough to keep away a Dementor!” Ginny’s face glowed with pride.

The spell faded, leaving Draco panting for breath. It was a taxing spell, Ginny knew.

“What memory did you think of?” she asked, grinning. His sleeve still hung open, like he hadn’t bothered to close it. It pleased her to no end.

Draco's wand trembled as he lowered it. "Just now, when you forgave me."

Ginny’s heart leapt into her throat. That she was his happy thought! “I have for a while now,” she replied softly.

Deliberately, Draco approached her. He raised a hand to her face, gently running his thumb across her cheek. She leaned her head into his hand, heart pounding in her chest.

His face scrunched. “Can I..?”

Ginny nodded without waiting for him to finish.

He pressed his lips against hers. Gentle and uncertain, she barely counted it a proper kiss. Ginny reached up, pulling his head closer. His wand clattered to the ground. Draco wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him. Everywhere they touched felt like fire.

They parted, gasping for breath. Ginny leaned her head against his neck, grinning. “Just when I thought I’d have to give up on you.”

“What do you mean?” The rumble of his voice echoed through his chest. His fingers running up and down her sides ignited wherever they landed.

She giggled. “I’ve been attracted to you ever since the lake!” She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow playfully. “What, you think I let just anyone share my chocolate ice cream?”

“You think I put up with just anyone spoon-feeding me?” he growled in response.

She snorted. “Touché.”

Draco grinned down at her. "Think the squad will even believe us?"

"I think you've got better things to worry about." Ginny pulled his head to hers, silencing him with a kiss.

One pale hand resting against the door, Draco paused, turning to Ginny over his shoulder. “You’re sure this will work?”

She grinned far too mischievously for his taste. “I never said I was sure. Where’s your secret inner Gryffindor, Malfoy?”

“Dead, buried, staked through the heart, burned alive,” he muttered. “Scattered the ashes too, for good measure.”

Ginny shrugged, still enjoying herself more than should be sane. “Sounds about time to wake it back up. Besides, it can’t be worse than what you’re already imagining.”

“Don’t tempt fate,” he growled. But his hand pulled the door open of its own will, more to silence the debate than anything else.

Noise exploded over them. From every corner of the store, blinding, clashing color met their eyes, surrounded by swarms of people.

Ginny chuckled, shoving him the rest of the way inside. “I thought you said you’d been to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes before.”

“I have.” He stared around the room, kids leaning over its second floor balcony, enchanted paper planes flying every which way, some magical tightrope walking toy cartwheeling back and forth across the gap. Frantically, his brain tried to take it all in before it ruptured. “I just don’t remember it being so...alive.”

Fred himself swept over to them, a charming smile across his face. “Welcome to…” It faded as he saw who the new customers were. Fred seemed unsure whether a scowl was appropriate, and settled for a Disapproving Older Brother Frown.

“Hey, Fred,” Ginny called easily. She’d been ignoring those frowns for ages. “Hermione said she’d be here today.”

He nodded, observing Draco warily. “Upstairs. Auror business, I’m assuming?”

His sister shrugged. “Weasley business, if you’ve got a minute.”

Fred’s eyebrow rose. Curiosity had always been a surefire way to pin a Weasley Twin. He turned to a shopkeeper, tossing her a stray Pygmy Puff he’d been holding. “Store’s yours, Verity.”

Verity caught the Pygmy Puff with ease, briskly turning back to her customers. One sported a neon green black eye, complaining loudly while the other customers giggled behind his back.

Fred swept his arm toward the staircase and they followed him up it. “So what brings you two back to Diagon Alley so soon?”

Neither Draco nor Ginny could miss the implication: Fred had read the article. Behind her brother’s back, Ginny shot Draco an impish look. Draco returned it, fighting valiantly to keep from chuckling. “Odd that you should mention that,” he replied with surprising evenness. “Ginny received an incredibly irate Howler over our last trip.”

“Oh?” Fred barely bothered hiding his glee.

“Yes,” Ginny growled. “As if I haven’t made it abundantly clear that it’s none of Mum’s business.”

Fred grinned lopsidedly at his sister. “Don’t worry, she’ll get it about five boyfriends from now. Maybe six.”

“Ha.” Ginny scowled. She shoved open the door to the offices. Hermione perched happily behind a desk labeled ‘F. Weasley’, pouring over sheet after sheet of numbers, a quill tucked behind her ear.

“My, what a relaxing day off,” Draco drawled.

Hermione jumped at his voice. She looked up, frown lessening at the sight of her best friend and husband.

Fred shrugged. “She claims putting things in order helps her relax. And who am I to stop her from making my business actually earn money?”

A small smile twisted her lips. “It would be in the black either way--you’d just never know it. And your suppliers would eventually realize they weren’t getting paid.”

He smiled fondly at his wife before gesturing over his shoulder at Ginny and Draco. “These two have non-Auror business to discuss with you. Us,” he corrected.

Hermione pulled the quill out from behind her ear, turning her full attention on Ginny and Draco. “This is about the article, then?”

Draco groaned. “Has everyone in this whole bloody city read that thing?”

“Probably,” Fred added unhelpfully.

“It’s false?” Hermione asked.

Ginny grimaced. “Well, it was false, at the time. But it’s not...now?”

“Still is fairly false.” Draco raised a finger importantly. “I barely even knew you existed at Hogwarts and don’t ever plan on jumping in front of any Killing Curses. If I have enough time to jump, anyone else has enough time to dodge.”

Hermione couldn’t entirely fight down her smile. “And you’re telling us this…?”

“Because you seemed the least likely to hex us for it,” Ginny replied honestly.

Fred snorted in agreement. “I’ll send you a postcard of Ron’s face when I tell him.” He frowned, adding, “That doesn’t mean I approve.”

“I know,” Ginny cut in quickly. “Just a chance is enough.”

Draco cleared his throat. They all turned to him, instantly making him wish he hadn’t. “My mother and I are hosting a dinner party for the Aurors this week. We’d be honored if the two of you would be there, and the rest of the Weasleys as well.”

Hermione frowned. “Even the non-Aurors?”

Draco shrugged. “They’re practically honorary Aurors anyway. I think every squad would jump at the chance to have the witch who defeated Bellatrix on their side.”

Fred raised an eyebrow mischievously. “Even yours?”

Draco winced. Thankfully Ginny laughed, stepping in. “When Draco wants to get a Howler every time he so much as looks at his Lieutenant, Mum will be at the top of his recruitment list.”

Fred and Hermione chuckled, both thinking back to the Howlers they’d earned. And Mrs. Weasley liked Hermione.

“Fair enough,” Hermione replied, still smiling. “So where’s the party?”

Draco braced himself. “Malfoy Manor.”

All air evaporated from the room. Hermione flinched as if he had physically punched her in the gut. Instantly, Fred threw an arm around her, daring anyone to comment.

“I’ve been staying there for weeks now,” Ginny added softly. “I know I don’t have bad memories of the place, but right now, Grimmauld Place looks darker than it does.”

“I’ll be alright.” Hermione steeled her face but remained leaning against Fred. “It’s just a party, right?”

Slowly, Draco nodded, unsure how to properly respond to such willingness to move forward. “Ginny and I were hoping for a Quidditch match as well.”

Fred’s eyes lit up at that. “Oh?”

“Slytherin Squad versus the Weasleys.” Ginny grinned mischievously. "Draco's got a full pitch."

Fred turned to his wife. "Hermione?"

Unconsciously, she rubbed at her scars through her sleeve. "I'll be fine. Someone has to keep you in line." Hermione smiled faintly.

Her husband shrugged. “If she’s good, I’m good.”

“Thank you,” Draco said softly, but meant it.

Hermione looked at him, trying to play it off casually. “I lead the Aurors. What kind of boss would I be if I skipped their parties?”

Pulling her closer, Fred laughed fondly into her hair. “The kind of boss you’ve always tried to be, if my redeeming influence hadn’t saved you.”

She couldn’t help but grin at him. “Speaking of boss,” she turned to Ginny and Draco, “I called Bill up to investigate the wards on the Nott House.”

A melodramatic groan exploded from Fred. “I should time how long it takes her to bring up work.”

“Did Bill find anything?” Ginny asked intently, ignoring her brother.

Hermione nodded. “He said it could have held five squads till they suffocated. He literally didn’t believe me when I said one squad had beaten it, unscathed, and down a Charms Expert.”

Ginny and Draco shared a victorious grin.

“So.” Hermione’s face twitched as she struggled with the words. “Consider this a formal commendation.”

Draco gasped audibly. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” Hermione couldn’t keep herself from adding, “Just please, please, take a Charms Expert with you next time.”

Fred nodded sagely. “She cries herself to sleep thinking about all that lost evidence. Might be her new Boggart, actually.” Hermione elbowed her husband playfully.

Draco grinned, thinking of how good it was to have Blaise back and walking. “Wouldn’t dream of doing a mission without him.”

Ginny snorted. “I don’t think he’ll let you once he hears we got a commendation without him.”

Once Draco and Ginny stepped out of sight of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, Draco pulled Ginny against him, kissing her thoroughly. She giggled against his mouth. “Collecting your reward for a mission well done?”

He made a noise of agreement and continued kissing her. “Can we move to Russia? Permanently? They probably need Aurors over there.”

She swatted his arm. “Fred and Hermione were wonderful, and you know it.”

“I know.” His mouth twitched with a grin. “I’m just glad it’s them breaking the news to the rest of your clan. I don’t fancy having my nose broken six times in one night.”

Chuckling, Ginny shoved into him. “Fair enough.” A mischievous glint came over her eyes, and Draco waited in fear and excitement. “Want to go on a date with me?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, Weasley, I’m dating you to not go on dates. When, tomorrow after work?”

Her grin broadened. “Right now. I think we’ve both had a stressful day so far, and I’d like to turn it into a good one.”

This sounded better and better. “What did you have in mind?”

Lacing her fingers through his, her grin turned positively devilish. “It’s a secret. Are you up for the challenge, Malfoy?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re on.”

Squeezing her hand, Draco gave her his complete trust as she Apparated them to some unknown, likely nefarious location.

Draco looked around curiously. A simple brick alleyway, with no real distinguishing factors. He frowned in confusion at Ginny.

She tugged on his arm, leading him out towards the street. “Just so no one will see us Apparate. The fun’s out this way.”

Draco stopped, the tugging going unheeded. “Is this...Muggle London?”

Ginny just grinned. “Come and find out.”

With much trepidation, he stepped around the corner. Bright lights lit the streets, with cars zooming past, and Muggles walking and talking amongst themselves. One particularly brightly lit building near them seemed to have Muggles flocking around it, lining up outside and strolling in and out.

Without further explanation, she tugged him into the back of the line with her. A board overhead had words that made no sense, followed by numbers. Times? “Weasley, what the hell are we doing?” he whispered to her.

She giggled infuriatingly. “We’re being Muggles. And we’re just in time for the 7:20 showing.”

“Showing of what?” Malfoy frowned. “Plays don’t have this many times. Do Muggles watch plays en mass?”

“It’s called a ‘movie’,” she finally informed him. “They’re like photographs, but tell stories, with sound and stuff. Hermione brought me to my first one a while ago, and I absolutely adored it. Drawings of lions that talked, and sung, and everything.” At Draco’s utterly bewildered look, she added. “You’ll just have to see for yourself. This one’s got something to do with a special school and a bald man in a wheelchair. Fred recommended it.”

Looking up at the board in pain, Draco felt his life spiral farther and farther out of control. “I’m trusting my evening to the recommendations of Fred Weasley. What is this world coming to?”

It was their turn at the front. Ginny paid smoothly, having Hermione to imitate, and apparently kept a wad of Muggle money on her for exactly this purpose. At the food counter, she picked up some fried corn and two Muggle fizzing drinks.

Entirely out of his element, Draco blindly followed Ginny into their numbered room. A giant wall of moving images stretched in front of the darkened rows of seats.

Image after image flashed in close succession, with explosions and brief clips of dialogue. "This is a movie?" Draco breathed, trying to hide his awe. He couldn't tell what the heck was happening, but boy was it fascinating.

"This is a trailer. It's showing you a sample of a movie that's coming out soon." Ginny, gracious in victory as always, grinned wide enough to split her face at Draco's wonderment.

"I would like to see these 'Pirates of the Caribbean'," he stated matter-of-factly.

She giggled. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. Let's find our seats for this one first."

Pulling him away from his gaping, she guided him to the back row, where they wouldn't disturb the Muggles.

The ‘movie’ started.

“Mutants,” a voice announced over a black photo. A few stars appeared. “Since the discovery of their existence, they have been regarded with fear, suspicion--often hatred. Across the planet, debate rages. Are mutants the next link in the evolutionary chain? Or simply a new species of humanity, fighting for their share of the world? Either way, it is a historical fact: sharing the world has never been humanity’s defining attribute.”

Ginny looked in horror at the screen. “Oh no,” she whispered breathlessly.

Draco leaned over in excitement. “Are you sure this wasn’t made by a pure-blood?”

“It’s Muggle, alright,” she responded with growing dread.

The real action started. One funny-looking man with a tail tore through row upon row of the Muggles with their ineffectual weapons--simply by Apparating.

Minutes later, Draco understood. He leaned over to Ginny. “These are wizards who can cast one spell wandlessly! The redhead’s a Legilimens, the blonde bloke cast the Freezing Spell, the other bloke cast Incendio, and the bald one in the wheelchair uses a powerful Imperius!”

“I think you’re missing the point,” Ginny protested feebly.

But, feeling quite proud of himself, Draco settled back in his seat.

“That school was eerily like Hogwarts,” Ginny remarked as they left the movie.

Draco chuckled. “I thought I was missing the point? And more importantly, what the Muggles would do to Hogwarts if they knew it existed.”

“Muggles aren’t bad,” Ginny frowned. “They’re just like you and me, only without magic.”

“Ginny, even the Muggles think they’re intolerant,” he replied, gesturing back at the theater they walked away from. Unconsciously, he rubbed at his left arm. “I mean, not that wizards are much better, but still.”

“If you’re saying we should stay separate, even Xavier agrees with you. Probably Dumbledore as well. It’s why we have Muggle-repelling wards around the school in the first place.”

Draco nodded. “I’m not saying Magneto’s right. I’m saying he’s understandable, and a bit awesome.” He pinched his fingers together, indicating the small size. “Even just the teensiest bit. You have to agree.”

Grudgingly, Ginny nodded. “That plastic prison escape was freaking awesome. You have me there. But it’s despite his homicidal tendencies, not because of them.”

He agreed vigorously. “Of course, of course. But still!” Tossing a grin at Ginny, he continued, “That movie was amazing. Still think it was made by a pure-blood.”

“I told you, it’s Muggles only! We don’t have the faintest idea how to do that movie stuff with magic!”

Chuckling, Draco slipped his arm around Ginny, content to just walk the streets of London with her. He looked around. Couples, groups, and lone people strolled along, minding their own business, even this late at night. From that perspective, the two of them looked no different, just a couple out for a stroll. The Muggle world was so much bigger, with its towering buildings and crazy amounts of people. It was easy to get lost in. Right now, Draco liked it.

He leaned over, kissing Ginny on the side of her head. She smiled up at him. “What’s up?”

“Just happy I can do that without getting it plastered on the front page,” he replied honestly. Ginny laughed happily, and it warmed him to his toes. A topic he’d been dreading bringing up surfaced in his mind. Reluctantly, he realized this was his last chance to mention it. “Ginny,” he started, but she immediately turned, catching the change in his tone.

“What’s wrong, Draco?” she asked, brow furrowed.

He sighed. “You need to hear it from me, before anyone else mangles it. I’m trying to go to Azkaban to talk to my father.”

Concern flashed across her face, but she waited until the other shoe fell. “Why’s that?”

Awkwardly, Draco scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I think he might know something about what Nott and Macnair are up to. I’m seeing too many of his fingerprints on everything.” At her look, he continued. “Nott and Macnair aren’t talented wizards or strategists. Wards are specifically tricky, and something my father excelled at. Snape said the Nott wards were new since Voldemort’s downfall. Something like that required an expert, and I know of very few.” In a softer voice, he added. “Also, I knew the tune the fountain played. It’s one he always loved.”

Ginny brushed her hand against his cheek. “Are you going to be ok?”

Frowning, he nodded. “I haven’t written to him at all since he went there. We have a... complicated relationship, to say the least. I’d rather not go, but I think I have to.”

She nodded with sad understanding. “Do what you must.”

“Out of the question,” Hermione cut him off firmly. “Azkaban is strictly controlled, and there’s no way you could go without it looking like cavorting with the enemy.”

“I said I’d have to go in secret,” Draco insisted. “Beyond just that, both sides will want me dead if they find out. The Death Eaters will assume he spilled his guts to me regardless of what he knows or says.”

Hermione scowled. “It’s a pointless risk. We’ve had Aurors interrogate every prisoner on that island under Veritaserum, and everything they’ve said is on record.”

Draco shook his head. “I think he’s been involved in something since getting to Azkaban. The Nott wards are new, and none of the current uncaptured Death Eaters have the skill to manage it.”

“All communication with Azkaban is strictly controlled and monitored. We’d know if suspicious messages were carried.”

“Traitors happen,” he replied, “as we well know. So do bribes. Even you know it’s not impossible. And I’d say Nott managing that ward without blasting his foot off is even less likely. You heard what Bill said.”

Sighing deeply, Hermione nodded. Reluctantly, she added, “We’ve stopped making any headway at all with Macnair. I can’t believe I’m saying this--” With a grimace, she looked Draco in the eye. “There’s a mole in one of the senior squads.”

Draco’s eyes widened in shock--at the news, and at her openness. “That bad?”

She nodded grimly. “We nearly lost three good Aurors on the last mission. Their intel is just too accurate.” Evaluating the man before her, she questioned, “What do you expect to gain from Lucius?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied honestly. “There’s a good chance he’ll tell me nothing of value whatsoever. Or mislead me. He’s entirely unsupportive of everything I’m doing.” Wishing he could get around telling Hermione, of all people, Draco added, “But I think there’s a good chance he’s involved with Nott and Macnair, with a high probability he’s leading them.”

The witch looked skeptical, but refrained from commenting. “What makes you say that?”

Draco winced. “Ever since his failure after Voldemort’s first fall, Lucius planned how to avoid it a second time. If Voldemort fell again, how to unite the Death Eaters under his leadership instead.”

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t think this relevant before? What are these plans?”

“He confessed as much under Veritaserum during his trial. No one took it seriously, as he didn’t fight the charges. He never bothered sharing those plans with me.”

Hermione frowned into her steepled fingers, lost in thought. “Alright,” she finally declared, standing up from her desk, “let’s get you to Azkaban.”

Her sudden change caught Draco off guard. “What about security?”

She smiled with the menace of a well-trained Auror. “I’m coming with you.”

Even without the Dementors, Azkaban carried a damp, biting cold. The dark, icy waters crashed over the rocks at the Apparition Point, splashing a light spray into Draco’s face. He’d never been here before and already wished he hadn’t come. Even with the assurance of Voldemort dead and gone, this place reminded him too strongly of the Dark Lord’s oppressive presence.

Hermione strode back to him, Auror coat flicking in the wind. “The hallway’s clear. Follow me.”

Draco complied, trailing her down the stone hallway. Cells on either side contained various prisoners. Draco knew wards blurred those outside the cells into indistinguishable masses, but walking past their unseeing gazes was nearly as disturbing. Goyle Sr. huddled into the back of his cell, and Draco quickly averted his eyes.

Hermione motioned him to halt hidden back in the hallway as she turned the corner. “Proudfoot, Savage, circle around and cover the Apparition Point. Dismissed.” The guarding Auror's footsteps faded into the distance, and Hermione nodded for him to follow. She took the secrecy measures further than Draco would have dreamed, for which he’d be eternally grateful.

At the end of the hall loomed a solid iron door, unlike the barred fronts of the other cells. Draco swallowed. He knew what lay behind that high-security area.

Hermione turned to Draco. “You only have to whisper ‘Help me’ and I’ll be there instantly. Other than that, your conversation is your own. Remember, inside the cell, Lucius is not restrained from moving, seeing, or hearing in any way beyond the chains. Do you understand?”

Not trusting his voice, Draco nodded.

She held out her hand. “Your wand, please?” Numbly, he handed it over, knowing it would do no good inside. Muttering incantations, Hermione scanned him multiple times over. “You’re clean,” she announced, worry creasing her brows. With another wave of her wand, the cell door creaked open. The dank hole gaped before him, and Draco found himself reluctant to step inside.

“I’ll be right here,” Hermione reassured him softly. Oddly, the thought did calm him.

Draco stepped inside. The heavy door clanged shut behind him. Only faint slats of light crept in through a barred slit high on the wall.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise.” The familiar voice came like a slap to the face. Draco’s eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark. He could only see pale blonde hair glinting from the back of the cell. Chains rattled as his father crept closer. “It’s been a long time, Draco.”

“Hello, Father.” He barely managed to keep his voice from quivering. “It’s good to see you again,” Draco lied.

Lucius chuckled. Finally, Draco could make out the cell. Despite chains dangling from his father's hands and feet, he relaxed on a stool pressed against the bars separating him from his son. Draco realized he could reach out and touch him, if he wanted. His hands remained in his lap.

“I’m assuming this isn’t purely a social call?” Lucius drawled easily. “Not just abusing rank to visit your dear old dad?”

Draco barely stopped himself from swallowing--Lucius knew his son’s tells. “Unfortunately not,” he replied evenly. “Nott and Macnair turned traitor and I wanted to see if you knew anything about it.”

“Turned on your little Slytherin Squad, did they?”

“My what?” Draco choked out, caught off guard.

“Your squad’s been the talk of the town, Draco, what with three defections, a murder, and a Weasley.” He smiled coldly. “You’re doing an excellent job redeeming Slytherin’s name.”

“I’m glad you think so, Father,” his son replied easily, refusing to rise to the bait.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "And you think it's working?"

"Currently, the Death Eaters are doing a better job tarnishing Slytherin's name than we are in restoring it. So no. Not yet."

His father snorted. “I’m surprised you think any pure-blood worth his salt would care what your useless squad of blood-traitors does."

Draco clenched his jaw. "They cared enough to kill Murstow over it."

A laugh burst from his father, ringing through the cell. Draco clenched his hands into fists to keep from strangling the man. "Oh come off it, Draco." Lucius's laughter faded into an easy smile. "That was obviously to send a message. I highly doubt Death Eater hatred should be used as an indicator of success.”

All Draco's rage rushed out of him in a single blow. Instead, the icy hand of foreboding clenched at his gut. "And what message would that be?"

Lucius looked amused by his son's stupidity. "They’re letting you know that any member of your squad has no blood in common with the Death Eaters. They wrote, ‘Blood Traitor,’ didn’t they? You don't take the time to use someone's organs when you want your message to be subtle."

That information was classified. Not even Aurors outside Slytherin Squad knew of the gruesome words left with the remains of Murstow's body. Somehow, Lucius had access to information far above his locked-in-prison pay grade.

Draco could barely speak around the tightness in his throat. "You think they plan to do that to the rest of us?"

Lucius smiled patronizingly. "Of course not. Magical bloodshed is an irretrievable waste." He shrugged. "But clearly they’re not above it, should another discouraging message be needed."

And it'll have red hair this time. "Why?" Draco asked bitterly, the futile anger rising. "Why us? What did Slytherin Squad ever do to them? We never even had a proper mission before Murstow’s death."

"Existed," his father enunciated slowly, as if speaking to a child. "Death Eaters pull from the same recruitment pool as you, Draco. You can't seriously think they'd allow you to keep thinning their ranks and encouraging moderation."

“They’re damn well going to have to,” Draco sneered. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Lucius shrugged, unconcerned with his son’s anger. “And they’ll keep trying, mark my words. You may not like their methods.”

The door creaked open, casting blinding light into the cell.

Draco stood gratefully. “Goodbye, Father.”

Looking into the cell, the light finally fully illuminated his father. Haggard and worn in his prison garb, he returned Draco’s gaze with an unnervingly imperious stare. “Goodbye, my son.”

As the door clanged shut behind him, Draco wished the remaining five years of his father’s sentence were infinite. He rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily.

“Are you alright, Malfoy?” Hermione asked, concern etched across her features.

Instantly, Draco composed himself. “I’m fine,” he snapped.

She didn’t bother him further, re-scanning him in silence, and handing back his wand.

The halls loomed even more oppressively on the return trip. Draco nearly nipped at Hermione's heels in his impatience to be gone.

Hermione dismissed the Aurors with orders to resume stations in ten seconds. Two cracks of Apparition, and Hermione and Draco were gone.

"He's definitely up to something," Draco announced the moment they reappeared in Hermione's office. "And whatever it is doesn't bode well."

Hermione frowned in earnest assessment. "Tell me what you know."

Anything he deemed irrelevant and left out that later became important would look like he'd purposely withheld the information. Leaving him with no options, Draco told Hermione everything. She'd proven herself a reasonable and invaluable ally so far. He only hoped that didn't change.

She frowned down at her desk, processing what he knew about the fountain, the Nott house, and his father's abilities.

"If he’s involved, even slightly, it would explain why the Death Eaters didn't attack me when I was wandless in Diagon Alley," he added softly. "And why they stopped using Killing Curses when I moved closer to Ginny. Lucius has enough involvement to still protect his son. At least so far."

Hermione looked up at him, face unreadable to Draco. "What do you make of the rest of what he said?"

Wishing he didn't have to say it, but knowing she needed to know, he reluctantly replied. "Lucius has contact with the outside world. He might be bribing Aurors." Hermione's eyes widened at that, but Draco continued. “It would have to be someone high up, to know the specifics of Murstow’s death.”

"Anything else I should know about?"

Draco sighed. “He mentioned Slytherin Squad too much to make me comfortable. Other than that, I can’t think of anything.”

Hermione frowned, mulling over what he’d said. "Why mention them?"

He shook his head. "I haven't the faintest idea."

Draco had an unpleasant sensation that he'd find out eventually.

Draco knocked lightly on the open door to his mother’s study.

She smiled up at him. Even with just a day around the house, she dressed impeccably, hair falling in perfect blonde waves. “What is it, Draco?”

“I hate to ask this,” Draco started, “but how many of our accounts are still in Father’s name?”

Her smile turned pained with the thought of her husband. “All of them, darling.”

Narcissa’s words dealt him a solid blow to the gut. “Can you please change that?” he gasped, cold dread settling. “Right now, while Azkaban forfeits his rights?”

“Lucius will be back in five years,” his mother frowned, clearly not understanding.

“I know it might cause problems for you in five years,” he whispered. “But I believe it’s deadly serious right now. He’s been bribing Azkaban guards at the very least. I’ve already re-keyed the wards.”

Her eyes widened. She stared down at the desk, composing herself. “I will change the accounts,” Narcissa whispered brokenly.

Draco moved around the desk, wrapping an arm around her. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

She stood, embracing him properly. Forcing back tears, she buried her head in his shoulder. “So am I.”

Tentatively, Ginny poked her head into the grand ballroom from one of the landings of the sweeping staircase. Narcissa overlooked the room from the top of the stairs, directing House Elves in their preparations. The elves scuttled about, decking the enormous room in navy blue and tannish-gold, the colors of the Aurors. The room itself stood nearly three stories tall, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on a stunning view of the garden and Quidditch pitch beyond, framed between arching pillars of marble.

As she watched, a navy banner unfolded against the far wall, emblazoned with the Ministry of Magic seal in brilliant gold.

Narcissa smiled at Ginny as she climbed the stairs, dismissing the House Elf she’d been talking to. “I think the decorations are coming along quite nicely. What do you think?”

Ginny nodded, nearly awe-struck. The dark, neutral wood of the walls and floor finally made sense--they beautifully complemented the new tapestries, making the room itself feel completely changed. “I think it looks smashing.”

"I'm glad," Narcissa smiled. "It's been awhile since we've hosted anything. I know Draco doesn't miss it, but I certainly do."

“Ginny!”

She turned at the voice. Blaise hustled down the stairs, already dressed in his tux, and looking sharper than ever. She felt hilariously underdressed, not having bothered to even change out of her sneakers yet. He flashed her a charming grin. “I’d love some help, if you’re not otherwise occupied.”

Ginny accepted his proffered arm, grateful for the interruption. “I’d love to. What do you need?”

Strolling down the stairs with her, he supplied, “It’s about the Quidditch match. I’m assuming you’ll join Warrington and me as a Chaser?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I won’t play for the Weasleys’? I am one, you know.”

But Blaise chuckled. “You wouldn’t have suggested the match if that were the case. Unless it’s your goal to see Slytherin Squad get it’s arse handed to it?”

“Is that a thinly veiled compliment I hear?” Ginny grinned.

Reaching over with his other arm, Blaise mussed her hair. “Only if you’re playing for us. If you’re playing for the Weasleys, then good riddance.”

Ginny squawked at his hand, trying to restore some semblance of order to her hair. “Of course I’m playing for the squad! What do you have in mind?”

“I crunched the positions. You, me, and Warrington are Chasers, Draco’s our Seeker, Goyle and Daphne are our Beaters--”

“Daphne plays?”

He nodded vigorously. “Her parents disapproved, and Crabbe was always better back in school…” Blaise trailed off, distracted by memories. Abruptly, he cleared his throat and continued. “But the point is that we’re down a Keeper. Know any Aurors who don’t hate our guts?”

“That is a tough one. Don’t know about Malfoy, but you they can’t stand.”

“And here I always thought you were the repulsive one, Weaselette.”

Draco waited silently at the bottom of the stairs. Also already in his dress robes, he looked the epitome of Wizarding elegance. "Done flirting with my girlfriend, Zabini?"

Blaise grinned, kissing the back of Ginny's hand. "Never."

Rolling her eyes, Ginny walked the last few steps down to Draco. "Did you need something?"

"Yes, actually," Draco replied. "Are you still in touch with Oliver Wood?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "We're not bringing in a professional Quidditch player to an Auror party. That's totally cheating."

"But we'd win," Blaise whined.

"I thought the idea was to get the Weasleys to like us," Ginny said.

"Also to win," Draco responded. "Winning is important."

A wonderful, devious idea hit Ginny, of someone who loved Quidditch, but had never gotten the chance to play. "I have someone in mind. But both of you have to promise to be extra nice."

Blaise frowned. "I'm always nice. When they can't catch my sarcasm, at least."

Draco sulked. "My list of people I have to be extra-nice to is already too long."

"I could have sworn our squad was desperate for an Auror who'd play," Ginny taunted them. "If I was wrong, you're both more than welcome to find your own Keeper."

With an overly dramatic sigh, Draco relented. "Time for a self-control marathon!"

Slytherin Squad formed a greeting line in the foyer of Malfoy Manor, every one of them impeccably formal and on their best behavior. Even Goyle looked presentable, and Warrington had scrounged up a black tie somewhere, even if it was dangling at an angle. Daphne started the line, bedecked in sapphires and an elegant navy gown meant to imitate Auror dress robes, but oh so flatteringly. Ginny, Draco, and Narcissa ended it, welcoming the guests into the Malfoy home.

Draco chuckled at Ginny's choice of dress. "I believe when my mother handed that dress to you, it was a neutral shade of turquoise."

Ginny swished the floor-length skirt of the now-emerald gown. "I thought this color made a better statement." She smiled mischievously at him. "You disagree?"

He wrapped an arm affectionately around her. She looked absolutely stunning in Slytherin's colors, red hair falling elegantly against her bare shoulders. "Not in the slightest."

Hermione and Fred greeted the squad, looking surprisingly sharp as they walked down the line.

Fred kept an arm wrapped reassuringly around his wife, whom Draco belatedly realized looked ill-at-ease in his house. Can't imagine why, he commented sarcastically to himself.

Stepping out of the line, Draco gave her his most gracious smile. "Allow me to show you my home."

Fred looked wary, but Hermione just tried a nervous smile. "Alright."

He led them into the ballroom. Mountains of food heaped onto a side buffet table, with dozens of smaller tables scattered about to sit at, and a string quartet warmed up in the back by the dance floor, but most importantly--

"You've remodeled," Hermione breathed in relief.

Draco gave a sharp nod. "If you spot anything we've missed, do not hesitate to inform me, and it will be incinerated on the spot."

"Thank you," she said honestly.

But Draco shrugged. "It's not like we did it for you--"

Fred glared.

"--but I figured you'd appreciate it," he concluded with a wry grin.

"I do, very much so." She gestured towards the biggest addition, the windows onto the garden. Now that the sun had set, fairy lights glittered from among the branches of the trees, casting a faint, ethereal glow back into the house. "It looks positively magical."

"I thought so myself." Draco excused himself, heading back to his squad, and leaving the Weasleys to mingle.

Soon enough, the majority of the Aurors arrived, and the squad rejoined the guests. Goyle made a beeline for the food.

Kingsley Shacklebolt ambled over, clapping Draco affectionately on the shoulder. “Nearly all of the Aurors are here so far. Apparently no one wants to miss out on a Malfoy party now that they’re invited.”

His mood fell, taking the statement in the opposite way to Kingsley's intended meaning. “I don’t think they would have enjoyed the previous ones,” Draco replied softly.

Warrington stumbled over, completely oblivious. The abundance of food on his plate indicated another futile attempt at an eating contest with Goyle. “It’s the food! It doesn’t stop coming!” He happily plopped next to Goyle at a table.

Kingsley smiled. “I think I’ll take his excellent suggestion.”

Looking at the two normally quiet members of the squad, Draco winced. It wouldn’t be long before Narcissa descended on Goyle and Warrington in indignation at the state of her table.

The mother in question caught his eye, pointedly glaring. With a sigh, Draco made his rounds as the dutiful host, greeting the few he’d missed on the way in.

Potter cleared his throat from behind him. Draco turned reluctantly, wishing there’d been some way to uninvite him specifically. There hadn’t been. Draco had tried.

"I hear you're dating Ginny," Potter offered casually.

"What of it?" Draco snapped. Dealing with Potter as Ginny's ex sounded bloody awful on every level. "I hear you're happily married so what business is it of yours?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I was going to congratulate you and tell you to treat her right. She's a good girl." With a smirk, he added, "It's called a peace offering."

“Thank you, Potter,” Draco gritted through clenched teeth.

But Potter laughed. “Don’t pull a muscle, Malfoy! Now you know how it feels.”

Slowly, Draco's tension drained. He chuckled. “If this is what friendliness with you is like, I’ve had my fill for a year.”

Smiling easily, Potter nodded agreement. As Potter was about to walk away, Luna strode up to Draco very seriously in her brilliant pink and green dress. Harry stiffened behind her, subtly shifting his hand to his wand.

Draco swore internally. He’d remembered the Golden Trio’s unfortunate memories of the place, but forgotten about the Lovegood girl entirely. An unfortunate number of people spotted Luna with Draco and grew silent. With trepidation, he awaited her declaration.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she stated seriously, her grey eyes wide. “Your house is much lovelier now. Are those real fairies in the trees?”

“Yes,” Draco responded, still tense. “They flock to the trees when we hang nectar in them.”

Luna nodded thoughtfully. “I was wondering how you’d managed to get them so evenly spaced.” With a smile, she added, “You should re-do the dungeon next. I think it would make a great wine cellar.”

“I’ll get on that,” he replied weakly.

Apparently pleased, she flounced off with a smile. Harry shrugged and followed after.

Ginny appeared by Draco's side, putting a well-needed hand on his arm. "She's a fantastic friend," the redhead added softly. "I wish you'd get a chance to know her better."

"I think I'd like that," he replied equally quietly. It stunned him how quickly Luna had moved past their bloody awful history.

Daphne sashayed over, one elegant eyebrow raised. “Are you two planning to eat at any point? We snagged a table with the twins and Granger.”

“Yay, the twins,” Blaise deadpanned.

Ginny turned to Draco with a smile. “Do you have other host-ly duties to attend to?”

A curl fell into her face, and he brushed it back with a finger. “My mother can handle the horde for a few minutes.”

Piling their plates high with scrumptious foods of all kinds, they joined the group at their table.

"Ok, so I've got to know," Daphne eagerly asked Hermione, "what's the weirdest thing that happened to you while helping Harry?"

Hermione seriously pondered the question. Then laughed a moment later. "Definitely Polyjuicing as Bellatrix to get into her vault."

Luckily, Draco had not yet taken a sip of his drink or he would have spewed it over the table.

She giggled. "It was quite frightening, really. But looking back, knowing we made it out alright on the dragon and everything, it's quite amusing. Easily the most bizarre thing that's happened."

He had to be hearing things. "I'm sorry, did you just say that you pretended to be my aunt and the goblins believed you?"

The conversation stopped cold. Hermione swallowed. "Yes, well, it was quite difficult, and we only took the Horcrux--"

"You misunderstand me," Draco interrupted before everything spiraled out of control. "My aunt Bellatrix gave dead roosters as Christmas presents. Believe me, there was no love lost there." He smiled tightly. "I just can't imagine anyone more completely opposite her than you."

The tension visibly drained from the table. Fred grinned at his wife. "That sounds like a fairly nice compliment."

She laughed. "I'll take it as one. And yes, it was, if you'll pardon my language, bloody hard."

Ginny grinned, immensely enjoying the meshing of the two groups. "Harry got off easy, just hiding under his cloak."

"Harry always gets off easy," Draco growled without thinking.

To his surprise, Hermione and the twins laughed.

"It's either completely true or completely false," Hermione barely managed through her laughter. "He has the most infuriatingly gifted and cursed life of anyone I know. Oftentimes simultaneously."

The twins nodded agreement. "He's handed an invisibility cloak--" George started.

"--stumbles onto the Philosopher's Stone," Fred finished.

"Discovers he's a Parseltongue--"

"--has to fight a basilisk."

"WE give him the Marauder's Map, thank you very much--"

"--fights his parents' murderer and a werewolf."

"Gets drafted into the Tri-Wizard Tournament--"

"Alright, I get it!" Draco threw his hands up in surrender.

Ginny chuckled next to him. "I think fate and time itself might literally revolve around him. It's fairly annoying."

"Let me guess," Daphne volunteered. "It's not really a sane life?"

"Hardly," Ginny snorted.

"Which is why Luna's so good for him," Hermione interjected sagely. "She keeps him sane."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "How in the world...?"

Ginny just shrugged, taking another bite. "Luna's one of the sanest people I know. She hides it well."

"I'll say," Blaise snorted.

Hermione, Ginny, and the twins frowned, about to come to her defense.

"She's far nicer than she needs to be," Draco volunteered quietly. Blaise took the hint and backed off.

"Speaking of," Hermione glanced between Draco and Ginny, the mischievous glint making him nervous, "I have yet to receive the appropriate inter-office relations form from either of you."

Blaise tsked at them, shaking his head. "Such debauchery in our squad. Our Lieutenant takes shameless advantage of our Captain and doesn't even file the proper form! What will the Minister say?!"

Fred looked up thoughtfully. "I believe he laughed, and said, and I quote, 'Serves them right.' "

Draco couldn't keep from grinning at the gorgeous redhead next to him. "I didn't even know they had forms."

Ginny looked slightly guilty. "I did. I just would have had to file it with, uh, Harry."

Snickers erupted around the table. "I'll take them for you tomorrow, Ginny," Hermione giggled, enjoying this far too much. "You don't have to hand Harry a form detailing the nature of your relationship."

This time Draco did choke on his wine. "A what?!"

Daphne nearly died laughing. "And any Auror who 'needs to know' can pull up the file! I bet it'll make another front-page article just by itself!"

"Not in the Daily Prophet, it won't," Draco growled. He turned to Hermione. "Why exactly is this any of the Ministry's damn business?"

Hermione sobered. "It would be merely a formality, if you weren't Captain. As such, an appearance of favoritism could be devastating."

"It's not like this is war," Draco scoffed. "I'm not sending anyone to die."

"You might have to," Ginny supplied quietly. "If the squad's in a bad way and someone has to take the fall so everyone can make it--"

"I'll take volunteers, or something."

Fred gave him a level stare. "On a squad with exactly one Gryffindor, you'd ask for volunteers?"

Draco's heart dropped into his stomach. This was why he'd never intended to be Captain. "I'll think of something," he replied hoarsely.

Staring down at his plate, the food suddenly lost all appeal. The table continued chattering on, blissfully unaware of his predicament.

Abruptly, Draco stood. He gave a polite, forced smile to the table. "If you'll excuse me." He strode off towards the nearest door, not caring in the slightest where it led, as long as it was away from human beings.

The clicking of hurried steps followed after him. "Draco?" Ginny called. After they stepped through the door and into the library, she added, "Are you alright?"

By way of answer, he pulled her against him, kissing her desperately. She responded, letting him back her against the books.

Finally, he attempted an explanation. "I can't..." Draco kissed her again, gathering his nerves. He leaned his head against hers, barely speaking in more than a whisper. "I can't even send Warrington to die, let alone you," he breathed. "I don't care if it's the worst kind of favoritism; I'm just not doing it."

She smiled softly, stretching up to kiss him again. "Don't worry. I'm most useful guarding your back anyway. We're excellent partners."

"We are," Draco growled, pleased. "And I'm selfish. You belong to me, not to the squad."

Ginny laughed playfully. "Aye, aye, Captain!"

Dozens of wonderful new ideas bounced around inside his head. "Really? You'll actually take orders from me?"

He knew his eagerness gave him away, but Ginny just smirked. "Of course. Keep in mind, anything ordered in a work capacity will need to be noted on the forms to Hermione."

"Kiss me, Lieutenant," he grinned, ordering anyway.

"Mmm, such abuses of power!" Ginny complied eagerly.

Blaise and Daphne corned them the moment Ginny and Draco re-entered the ballroom.

"I bet Daphne a good few galleons the two of you were off snogging," Blaise drawled, far too proud of himself.

"We would never do such an immature thing," Draco replied imperiously, straightening his collar. Daphne discreetly motioned to some lipstick on his cheek. Hastily, he scrubbed his hand across it. Looking at his hand in puzzlement, nothing was there. Daphne grinned triumphantly.

"A bet which I refused to take," Daphne clarified. "Because I knew you were off snogging."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ginny replied in equally imperious tones. "Draco, don't you have a party to host?"

"I most certainly do," he responded, ignoring Blaise and Daphne's derisive snickers. "And I require your assistance, Ginevra."

After they walked out of earshot, Ginny leaned towards Draco. "I already want to kiss you again."

He grinned. "Perhaps we can grab a quiet moment after a Quidditch victory?"

"Sounds fantastic."

Spotting them from the other end of the room, Narcissa glided over. "Draco darling, I've been looking for you!" With one glance at his hair, she immediately reached to fuss with it.

Draco dodged her meddling hands from years of experience. "What do you want, Mother?" he snapped.

She sighed at the lost cause. "We need to open the dance floor. Are you ready?"

He turned to Ginny. "We'll be ready in a moment."

Ginny's stomach clambered into her throat as Narcissa walked off. "You didn't mention that we'd have to start the dancing!"

Draco shrugged. "I figured you knew to assume it." Studying her closely, he tilted his head inquisitively. "Will that be a problem?"

Forcibly calming her nerves, Ginny shook her head. "I'll be ok."

He gave her a wry grin. "Dancing with me is only 'ok'?"

"It is with every Auror watching!" Ginny retorted hotly.

Laughing, he wrapped an arm around her waist. "It's not that bad. You'll see. Just don't look away from me, and follow my lead." Draco led her onto the floor, where they joined his mother and Minister Shacklebolt.

The string quartet started up again, and they were off, Draco leading her expertly around the floor as his mother danced with the Minister.

"You've definitely had proper lessons," Ginny grumbled at his skill.

Draco smirked. "Of course. What, they had to teach you for the Yule Ball?"

She nodded. "And I don't think I've danced formally since." A thought hit her, and she couldn’t repress her giggles. "How did Snape manage to teach you guys?"

He chuckled fondly. "Snape barged into the Common Room, declared that anyone who didn't know how to dance by now shouldn't be fool enough to try in public, and barged out." Draco smirked. "It was highly instructional."

"McGonagall danced with Ron to show us how," Ginny snickered. "Fred and George still tease him about it."

Draco frowned in concentration. "I vaguely remember seeing you at the Yule Ball, but not with Potter..."

The question hung in the air. "I went with Neville Longbottom. He's a good friend."

Draco made a face. "But he's...Neville."

"And a good friend," Ginny repeated, ignoring Draco's implications. "He's here tonight, if you didn't know. Only stopped being an Auror last year."

"Lovely," Draco drawled. "I haven't run into him or most of your brothers so far--just more things to look forward to."

She laughed, rolling her eyes at him. "You'll survive."

"As this has not been tested yet, I'm surprised at your confidence." He raised an eyebrow.

Other couples surrounded them now, making the dancing far less intimidating. Ginny looked around, surprised that she hadn't noticed.

"See?" Draco drawled, noting her surprise. "It's not so bad." Glancing at the clock on the wall, a wicked grin spread across his face, driving out all other thoughts. “Gather your family. It’s time.”

Guests flocked to the various balconies of Malfoy Manor for a good view of the Quidditch match. Lights flared from atop the house, brilliantly illuminating the pitch despite the dark of the night.

Formal attire discarded, Slytherin Squad stood in emerald green uniforms, a glittering gold serpent writhing on the chest. Daphne’s clever idea lent an air of professionalism to the team, encouraging their thirst for victory.

As his faithful squad clustered around him, Draco gleefully rubbed his gloved hands. “The Weasleys may have fought together before, but we have an advantage--a double agent.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you mean played together before?”

Draco shrugged away the insignificant correction. “Ginny? What can you tell us about their strategy?”

Ginny grinned devilishly, thoroughly infected with Draco’s competitive mood. “Their Chasers will be the weak spot. Harry and Charlie are both excellent Seekers, but whichever one is forced to play Chaser will be less than gifted. Bill’s only passable as a Chaser.”

“And the third?” Blaise questioned, but Ginny shrugged.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” The Lieutenant turned to Goyle and Daphne, bats in hand. “Fred and George are the main ones to watch for. They’re the most coordinated Beaters I’ve ever seen, including professional teams. Forget about trying to separate them--it won’t work. Just keep on your toes and protect what you can.”

“I’m plenty good,” Daphne scowled, insulted.

Blaise put a hand on her shoulder. “Did you miss the part where the twins could play professionally?”

“No,” she grimaced, but relented.

“And you’ve all played against the Weasel King before,” Draco drawled. “Keep him off his guard and we should be fine.”

Fiendishly, Ginny smirked. “Oh, we’ll be more than fine. I’ve practiced my shots against Ron too many times to worry. If you think you won’t make it, pass to me. I’ll gladly score on my darling brother.”

His finger bobbing as he counted, Warrington frowned. “Don’t we need another player? Who’s our Keeper?”

Blaise and Draco looked expectantly to Ginny. “He said he’d come…” she trailed off.

Daphne examined the extra uniform in her hands, an empty spot on the back saved for the unknown last name.

Draco sighed. “Warrington, you’ll be Keeper. I guess we’ll play a Chaser down.”

Right on cue, a figure chugged across the field. “Sorry I’m late!” Neville panted. “No one believed me when I said I was playing.”

The Slytherins stared in disgust, amusement, revulsion, and disbelief at the despised Gryffindor.

“Be nice,” Ginny hissed under her breath.

Awkward silence stretched as the Slytherins had nothing nice to say, and hence said nothing at all.

Blaise “accidentally” bumped into Daphne, forcing her to stumble towards Neville. “Here’s your uniform,” she gritted out, magically adding ‘Longbottom’ to the back. Her smile should have peeled paint.

Neville took it happily. “Thanks! Never got the chance to do more than practice before.”

“How perfect.” Sarcasm dripped from Blaise.

Rolling her eyes at her failures for teammates, Ginny stepped forward. “Thanks for joining us on such short notice, Neville. We were tearing our hair out trying to find a Keeper who’d actually play with the Slytherins. The squad and I really owe you one.” The last phrase was pointedly emphasized, with a glare at Draco for good measure.

“If you guys really have turned good, there’s no reason for hard feelings, right?” Slipping on the uniform, Neville shrugged. “Besides, Ginny’s got as much reason as I do to hate Slytherins.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “There’s clear proof that her judgment is highly fallible.”

More and more, Draco realized that being Captain had a vastly different definition than he’d always been led to believe. More often than giving orders and expecting them to be followed, it meant sucking it up and doing exactly what you least wanted to.

Barely restraining himself from wincing, Draco stuck out a hand. “Welcome to the team, Longbottom. I hope you’re as good as Ginny’s led us to believe.”

Neville shook it, not much less reluctantly than Draco had offered it. “I hope I don’t let her down.”

Blaise forced a grin. "Ginny, Warrington, and I plan to dominate the Weasleys enough that they forget you exist."

Neville chuckled nervously. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

The Weasley team stalked out onto the other end of the pitch, each one wearing their lettered Weasley Sweater. Ron played Keeper, Fred and George were Beaters, all as expected, but Charlie walked out in Seeker's gear, with Harry, Bill and--

"Luna's a Chaser?" Draco asked, incredulous.

Ginny frowned. "Just a commentator, far as I knew. Guess we'll find out if she's any good."

Minister Shacklebolt launched the balls into the air, and the game was off.

Draco shot into the sky, scanning furiously for the small golden ball. Below him, Ginny clutched the quaffle, weaving past Harry and Luna with Blaise and Warrington trailing closely behind.

Apprehensively, Draco watched Charlie. One could tell a talented Seeker from their stance, the authority and ease with which they surveyed the pitch. Charlie looked as if he felt more at home on a broom than his own feet.

Ginny passed to Warrington for a quick score, Ron barely missing it, 10 to 0 so far.

But as Draco looked down at the game below, he started to feel uncomfortably warm and lightheaded. Shaking off the jitters, he tried to focus again on the game. With no Snitch in sight, it was not an easy task. Soon, he felt bloody awful.

The warmth intensified, spreading out into his arms. Specifically, his left arm.

Horrified panic hit a moment before the pain. His left arm exploded, white hot agony searing through it. This particular brand of pain was all-too-familiar. Draco's vision swam as he desperately clutched his broom with the other arm. Even so, concentration came only in brief snatches.

Charlie looked over with concern. "You alright, Malfoy?"

Swearing internally, Draco knew it wouldn't be long before his sudden ailment attracted attention. Attention from Aurors that he could desperately do without.

Only one option in mind, he dove furiously, clutching his useless left arm to his chest. Charlie chased after him, assuming Draco was hot on the tail of the Snitch. At the last second, Draco swerved, slamming his side into the base of the goalpost. He collapsed dramatically from his broom.

Actual crippling pain simplified faking an injury. "Time out!" he wheezed.

The squad swooped down, flocking around their Captain. Ginny's face contorted with concern. "That looked like a hard blow. Are you ok?"

Draco violently shook his head. Clasping his arm protectively, he gritted out, "Can't play. Figure something out."

Hoping that qualified as a plausible excuse, but done caring if it didn't, Draco whipped out his wand, Apparating to the privacy of his room.

The moment his familiar walls surrounded him, Draco ripped open his sleeve. Gone was the faded scar of The Mark. Instead, it glowed an angry red on his skin. As he watched, the black ink resurfaced into the familiar pattern, the snake writhing as it emerged from the skull.

The pain intensified. Draco dropped helplessly to his bed, clutching the arm in a futile attempt to deaden the pain. Never had the burning been this terrible--not even when Draco originally received it. None of the angry summons from Voldemort held a candle to this pain.

Distantly, he realized the fireplace was ringing. Obviously ignoring it, Draco caught sight of the face. Instantly, he leapt towards it, dropping to his knees to keep from collapsing.

"Snape!" Draco clamoured desperately. "It's burning for you too?"

"Yes," the older man gritted out, face contorted in agony. "I hoped you'd have an idea as to why."

Draco shook his head. "I was playing Quidditch. There are hordes of Aurors in my house right now."

"No one did anything...suspicious?"

"Not that I know of," Draco ground out. A trickle of blood dribbled out between the clenched fingers wrapped around his forearm. "Do you know anything?"

Thin-lipped, Snape shook his head. "Nothing unusual," he barely managed around his own pain. "I must go." He severed the connection.

Draco understood all-too-well. Without the will to make it back to his bed, he toppled onto the carpet. All he could do was wait it out.

Wave after wave of agony washed over him, blurring time into obscurity. After what seemed an eternity, a knock sounded at his door.

"Go away!" Draco yelled furiously.

The door crept open. "Draco?" Ginny's worried voice called. "Your mother said I'd find you here."

Before he could stop her, she stepped into the room. Her eyes widened at the sight.

Lying on the floor curled into a ball, blood coated Draco's arms, spreading into a rapidly-growing puddle beneath him.

Wordlessly, she dropped to her knees beside him, summoning a bandage. Gingerly, she pried his Marked arm from his bloody fingers. She wrapped his arm with the bandage, fingers lightly brushing his raw skin.

"I'll be fine," Draco whispered hoarsely. "It's not the first time."

Ginny's mouth drew into a line. "It is for me. Does ice help?"

Weakly, he nodded. She summoned that as well, the cold seeping in through the now-bloodstained cloth. It distracted from the pain, if nothing else. "Just don't tell my mother."

She barely managed a small grin. "Your secret's safe with me."

Pulling his head onto her lap, she gently ran her now-bloody fingers through his hair. Draco didn't mind. Ginny distracted wonderfully from his throbbing arm. It already felt better from her care.

Her fingers gently caressing him, Draco dropped off to sleep.

Ginny and Draco strode through the halls of the Ministry towards the squad's training room. They walked silently, and Ginny didn't want to break it. The Mark left Draco on edge and she hadn't the faintest idea how to help.

"I'll need to tell Hermione about it," Draco softly broke the silence, "but please don't mention it to anyone. Not even Blaise. I don't want--"

As they rounded the final corner, flashbulbs exploded in their faces. Over a dozen reporters crowded into the narrow hallway, completely blocking the entrance to their training room. Cameras flashed incessantly, capturing the horrified shock on Draco's face.

The questions immediately followed.

"Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel about the Mark resurfacing?"

"What will you do now that You-Know-Who has reclaimed you?"

"Mr. Malfoy, do you know how You-Know-Who survived?"

"What will the Death Eaters do now that their Dark Lord is back?"

Draco clenched his fists with suppressed rage, not daring to respond.

This was Auror territory. Reporters weren't allowed down here for a reason. Ginny stepped forward, fury rising. "How the hell did you get in?"

But the reporters ignored her, surging towards Draco and shouldering past her.

"Mr. Malfoy, were you involved with the renewing of the Mark?"

"Your dinner party for the Aurors made a perfect alibi, but you ducked out early. Response?"

As the reporters pushed against him, vying for his non-existent responses, the mask on his anger slipped further and further. He stood in shocked silence, not daring to speak. Ginny realized he might actually murder someone. At the very least, he already wanted to.

She couldn't bother with the political ramifications anymore. Not caring who she injured, Ginny forced her way through the crowd, slamming reporters aside. Grabbing Draco's arm, she yanked him through after her. Still stunned and seething, he could only stiffly follow after.

Blaise threw open the doors to the training room. They ran for it. As they stumbled in, he slammed the doors behind them.

Draco rounded on Ginny. "You already told?!" His face contorted in fury.

"I haven't told a soul!" she replied hotly.

Blaise, Daphne, Goyle, and Warrington stood awkwardly around the usual chairs, not daring to sit yet. Her face carefully blank, Daphne handed a newspaper to Draco. "Special edition this morning."

The newspaper unfolded with a snap. 'DARK MARK RETURNS: AZKABAN IN CHAOS' stamped boldly across the top.

Draco's rage popped like a balloon. "Oh."

Ginny scowled furiously at him. "Seems the prisoners were worse at keeping a secret."

Draco's mouth twisted as he dropped the paper onto the table. "Sorry," he said softly. His eyes met hers, and she knew the apology was honest.

"It's fine," she replied, and meant it. "So what do we do about it?"

Blank looks replied from the squad, all looking expectantly towards Draco.

He dropped wearily into his usual chair. Ginny took the seat next to him, the others grabbing their seats in a semi-circle facing him. "I don't really know," he said, exhausted. He flicked absently though his clipboard. Finding nothing, he discarded it. "I--"

The door burst open. Harry and Hermione strode in, her face blazing. "I'm terribly sorry," she bit out, furious. "They were given press passes to talk to the Azkaban Aurors, and saw no reason to stop there." Hermione gave a bitter smile. "I haven't given lifetime-bans to so many people in a long time."

"I was wondering how they got in," Ginny scowled darkly.

Hermione's grin tightened. "Trust me, it won't happen again." She turned to Draco. "Mind if we join your meeting?"

Draco shrugged. "I was just going to say I didn't know anything."

"But it did return for you?" Harry asked, frowning. He and Hermione took unused seats behind the team.

Draco nodded sharply. "I spoke briefly to Snape, and the same happened for him."

"Any burning? Any destinations sent for a rendezvous?" Hermione asked, unaware she had begun an interrogation.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "It hurt worse than originally receiving it, not like calling a meeting. There wasn't a destination."

Hermione frowned. "Bill Weasley's examining Snape's Dark Mark right now, but hasn't found anything unusual, just the extremely powerful Protean Charm it always was. Do you know any Death Eaters who could cast it?"

"Bellatrix and Voldemort, who are definitely dead, and my father, definitely wand-less." Draco smiled without humor. "And then there's me."

"And me," Hermione replied quietly, an odd look of determination stealing over her face. She stood, turning to the rest of the room. "My apologies, but I'm going to need to steal your Captain. Malfoy, you're with me."

Bewildered, Draco shrugged, and followed her out.

Hermione led him into a small room; one Draco suspected was normally used for interrogations. She took a chair on one side of the simple metal table, motioning Draco to the other. Fortunately, no shackles grabbed him as he sat down.

A coin clinked as she slid it across the table towards him. He turned it over in his hand.

“It’s just a coin,” Hermione clarified. “I’ve used the Protean charm on them before, so it’ll be easier.”

Draco set the coin down. “What do you need me for?”

With concentration, Hermione linked a coin in the middle of the table to the ones she and Draco held. "The coin in the middle is the Master coin. We're going to see if we can switch it to one of the Slave coins without touching the Master."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It can't be done without access to the Master. It's in the description of the spell."

Hermione gave him a level glare from across the table. "Oh, so Voldemort's resurrected while I haven't noticed?"

Draco sneered down at the offending coin. "I'll try."

After three hours of pointless wand-waving, neither Slave coin was any closer to controlling the other. In a fit of frustration, Draco blasted his coin. It reshaped itself to look identical to the Master.

Wearily, he dropped his head into his hands. "It's got to be something with the Mark scarring first. Or Voldemort dying."

Hermione tilted her head at him. "Can I see it? Your Mark, I mean."

Draco grimaced. "I'd rather not." He knew full well she could order him, but short of that, not even Voldemort himself could make Draco pull back his sleeve.

She frowned, but nodded, understanding his desire for privacy.  An idea hit Hermione. Her chair skittered backwards as she jumped to her feet. A red jet shot from her wand, blasting the Master coin into an unrecognizable lump. Immediately, the two Slave coins followed suit. She scowled down at the three blobs of metal. "I couldn't think of a better way to simulate death."

"It looks about how death should feel," Draco peered closely at his worthless lump. "But no scarring that I can see. How would metal even scar in the first place?"

Hermione lowered her wand. "I haven't the faintest idea."

A bit of steam wafted up from the Master coin. "Should we try new coins? Or...?"

She shook her head, wearily re-pocketing the wand. "No, you go do whatever you need to. I'll see if Bill and Snape have discovered anything."

Not that he didn't like three hours of mindlessly futile magic, but Draco all-too-eagerly obliged. 

Narcissa waited for him in the sitting room. The newspaper spread across the end table as a not-so-subtle hint.

His mother sipped at her tea, her face worryingly devoid of emotion. "Anything interesting happen at work today?"

Draco sighed. "I was mobbed by reporters assuming I had a hand in Voldemort's return and then kidnapped by Hermione as a magic slave. Are either of those what you're referring to?"

Slowly, she set the cup down to keep from dropping it. "You-Know-Who has returned?"

"Highly doubtful. The reporters are just trying to sensationalize it." About to leave, he looked back over his shoulder. "Which reminds me, tell the Daily Prophet to run some other theory, with nothing to do with Voldemort. And to fire whomever they sent to the Ministry today." He stalked off, having had enough interrogations for one day.

"I'm not finished with you yet, Draco." Her calm tone brooked no argument.

Reluctantly, he returned, standing dutifully before her. "My apologies for leaving dinner early. As you may have gathered, an old problem of mine resurfaced."

Her mouth tightened to a grim line, but she didn't press. Instead, she handed him a small golden key. "I transferred the family funds into my name. However, it was a bit too much for just me to hold."  Her eyes twinkled. "That's to a new vault, with a good portion of your inheritance inside."

Draco grinned. "Thank you, Mother."

She laughed lightly. "Maybe I just want you less eager to see me gone."

He leaned forward, kissing her on her forehead. "Never. But it is working."

Her smile faded.

Seeing her good mood vanish so quickly scared him. "What's wrong, Mother?"

Forcing the smile back, she tried to play it off. "Oh, nothing really. I just believe your suspicions were correct."

Draco's eyebrows tried to climb off his head. "You mean...?"

Narcissa took a sip of tea to buy herself time. "The account was a bit lighter. Not enough to make a dent by the time you get it, but...significant." At Draco's worried look, she added, "Cheer up, darling. I would have spent it on shoes eventually."

"I'd rather shoes than bribes any day," he muttered.

Narcissa looked at him, and her heartfelt wish wrote itself across her face. "Lucius wouldn't... not after everything..."

"Whatever he's up to, it's not good. Not in the slightest," Draco whispered. Her face crumpled, and he wished desperately that he hadn't been the one to break it to her.

His mother nodded solemnly, eyes downcast. "Just...be safe, my son."

They both knew, as an Auror, safety was far from his job. But he smiled for her, and replied, "I'll try."

This time, the House Elf led Ginny to a very different room for her meal with the Malfoys. Double doors nearly twice as tall as her stretched up to the ceiling. The elf scampered on ahead, holding one open for her. With trepidation, Ginny entered.

An ornate table stretched before her, elegant place settings atop it, complete with a chandelier over the middle. Everything in her longed to run back to her room and change into something nicer than the simple robes she’d picked out, but Narcissa, at the other end of the table selecting wine from another elf, had already spotted her.

The blond matron, dressed in decadent blood-red robes, drifted over to meet her. About to greet her, Lady Malfoy stopped short with the slightest nod. “Miss Weasley,” she smiled to hide the pause. Ginny caught the hesitation. “So glad you could join us. Friday dinners have started to become routine, with just the two of us.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude!” Ginny said in a rush. “I didn’t realize--”

“It’s no intrusion at all,” Draco drawled from behind her. Her heart sank to realize he too had donned formal robes. “A welcome change. Goyle and Blaise are out getting drinks anyway.” He moved to the end of the table closest them, pulling out a chair to his right. Ginny sat with growing dread. He’d gone through far worse with her family, she knew, but that helped little with her current fears.

Draco slid into the end chair next to her, Narcissa sitting opposite him on the other end. All Ginny could think was that this room was far too large for three people. Luckily the room dwarfed the table, likely shrunken down for the occasion.

“So,” Narcissa started, cutting into her salad as the House Elves passed them out, “how do you like being Lieutenant of my son’s squad, Ginevra?”

Ginny hurriedly swallowed her bite. “It’s quite different than I ever expected it to be, actually. They still have a ways to go, to be sure, but it’s a good squad, with an excellent Captain.” A small grin perched on Draco’s face at the compliment.

In a voice tight with restraint, Narcissa asked, “And how, exactly, do they ‘still have a ways to go’?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at Ginny, his smile turning far too amused. His silence spoke volumes for him--if he had to deal with her entire family, she could at least deal with the sole member of his. Ginny dabbed her mouth with her napkin to buy time, setting it back on her lap as primly as possible. “The squad ranges greatly in ability,” was the most diplomatic reply she could think of. “Some, like your son and Blaise, earned their robes many times over, but others…” She trailed off without any equally diplomatic way to end it.

“So you see the majority of Slytherin Squad as incompetent.” Narcissa’s tone remained level, but her knife cut with more ferocity than necessary on the poor salad.

“I see their training as unfinished,” Ginny replied evenly. “Even the worst of them could still be a dependable Auror, in time.”

“And who, might I ask, is the worst?” Her voice turned tight again. “Surely not sweet, darling Daphne?”

“Goyle, clearly, Mother,” Draco answered for her. To anyone else he would have accompanied it with an eye roll. “It’s not like you and Father picked him as my bodyguard for his independent thinking.”

His intervention bought a moment of silence. Narcissa turned to Ginny, a bright smile on her face as she tried again. “So what made you want to join this squad in particular?”

Ginny swallowed again. “I was stuck as an Instructor, and hated being out of the field, so when Kingsley offered me the position, I jumped at it.”

The House Elves took away the finished salads, swapping them for the main course.

Narcissa looked coolly at Ginny from down the table. “So my son’s squad had nothing to do with it.”

“No?” Ginny winced.

“Actually, my squad had everything to do with it,” Draco calmly cut into his steak. “If we hadn’t needed outside oversight, she wouldn’t have had the position offered to her.”

His mother’s eyes radiated ice. “So she’s not even a real member of the squad.”

“I meant a single word from her would have disbanded it.” His soft words still carried all the impact. “And she’s done nothing but help me keep it together and running better than it ever has.”

“Oh.” Narcissa’s smile turned genuine. “That seems no easy feat, what with all that’s gone on.”

Ginny chuckled uneasily. “It wasn’t, but Hermione and the others came around.”

A grimace crossed his mother’s face. “I can’t believe she’s still running your department…so well,” she adapted last second.

An overly bright smile plastered across Ginny’s face. “Yes, I certainly agree there. It’s been quite a while since someone so competent has managed our law enforcement.”

“And quite lucky for Slytherin Squad,” Draco cut in, not a moment too soon, “that we have someone so experienced in prejudice.”

Narcissa smiled thinly. “Quite.” She turned her attention back to Ginny, eager to change the subject. “So what do you do for fun, Ginevra?”

Finally, a question she could answer directly. “I love Quidditch, really. I used to play as a Chaser for Gryffindor, but I just play recreationally now…” Belatedly, Ginny remembered the lack of girls on the Slytherin team.

“Quidditch.” Narcissa feigned interest. “How lovely.”

Ginny thought of adding that she helped at Fred and George’s shop or pushed Draco into lakes, but didn’t think either would help.

“Ginny introduced me to a new sort of magic,” Draco shot Ginny a warning glance, “where photographs are made longer, and used to record plays.”

“Oh?” Narcissa brightened at that. “How nice.”

Draco wrapped an arm around Ginny as he walked her to her room. “She doesn’t hate you, don’t worry. She’s just...very different from you.”

“Yeah,” Ginny grimaced. “I noticed.”

He chuckled. “Well, she’ll have to get used to you just as much as you’ll have to get used to her.” Ginny turned to him at that, studying him carefully. “I mean,” he added in a rush, “if we…work out, or whatever. Eventually, that is.”

A smile lit her face. “You seem to like her quite a bit.”

“I do,” Draco replied solemnly. There was no need to state that she was all he had left. Anyone who could count would know.

“Well then, I like her already.”

He kissed her head fondly. “Thank you. I know she’s not...what you would choose.”

Ginny laughed deviously. “The problem is, that goes both ways.”

Draco gasped in strangled horror at the realization.

Her maniacal laughter only grew louder.

Night loomed dark and full across Malfoy Manor. All the witches and wizards slept soundly in their beds, even Blaise and Goyle, back from their night on the town. Ginny tossed lightly in her sleep, but nothing unusual there.

Far below her room, Draco woke with a sudden lurch. Through the disorientation of sleep, he couldn’t remember what had woken him.

It came again, the faint tugging on his mind. He couldn’t place what it could be though, as it seemed to come from far away. Maybe even so far as the front gates.

His eyes widened. The wards.

A second later, they crashed down around him.

The fall of the wards shocked Draco to his senses. He leapt out of bed, snatching his wand, Disapparating an instant later.

Reappearing in Ginny’s room, he raced to her bed. One hand clamped over her mouth, he shook her awake.

Her eyes shot open. A wand pressed painfully against his neck.

“It’s me, Ginny!” he whispered forcefully. The wand lowered and he removed his hand from her mouth. “Death Eaters are here. We don’t have time.”

“The others?” she whispered.

“I don’t know yet. The Death Eaters could be--”

He cut off as footsteps pounded up the stairs. A gruff voice drifted softly through the walls. “I think this is the one.”

Draco didn’t even have to think. Wand in hand, he grabbed her, and an instant later they were gone.

They reappeared in a small, dark room, clothes hanging down around their faces, and shoes covering the floor. Ginny lightly touched Draco’s arm, her wand at the ready. “Where?” she asked as softly as possible.

“Blaise’s closet,” Draco replied. Crouching down, he stepped forward, pushing the closet door open just a hair. Her Auror training showing, Ginny didn’t bother trying to look out the door as well. She trusted Draco to do that. Instead, her eyes roamed around the closet, constantly watching, and giving Draco enough space to maneuver if he needed. With the wards down, a Death Eater could Apparate around the Manor just as freely as they could, and Ginny wasn’t about to let anyone sneak up on them.

"Expecto Patronum," Ginny whispered. The silver mist coalesced into her horse. "Find Harry, tell him Malfoy Manor's under attack." It galloped off.

Still unable to see, Draco pushed the door open a hair farther. From behind, Ginny muttered the Disillusionment spell on him, and he slid out of sight.

A shape loomed above the bed. “You thought you were so safe here!” he hissed. “Back in the little Malfoy den.” The voice laughed, and Draco instantly placed it. Macnair. “We’ll see about that. Get up, let’s move!”

Blaise drifted unnaturally to his feet. A body-bind with a Hover charm, Draco realized. About to charge, three cracks of Apparition stopped him.

“What did you find?” Macnair asked the three new Death Eaters. Reaching behind him, Draco tapped four times on Ginny’s leg, hoping she understood. She tightened her grip on her wand with a sharp nod.

“Nothing. No sign of the brat or his bitch,” a deep voice snarled.

“And Narcissa’s locked in her room?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to disturb her.”

Macnair grunted in satisfaction. “Good, we’ll--”

“Stupefy!” Draco whispered. The red jet took the deep voice in the back. He dropped.

Macnair and the other two spun, not sure exactly where it came from. Macnair’s silhouette stopped facing the closet door, still hanging ajar. He raised his wand. “Confrin--”

“Protego!” Ginny yelled before the spell finished. Macnair's spell bounced off her shield, rebounding into Macnair and slamming him into the wall.

The door to the room burst open, more Death Eaters spilling in. Before Draco could count, Ginny’s hand was on his shoulder, Apparating them away.

The dining room, Draco realized. A man stood in the open doorway to the room, watching them.

“Expelliarmus!” Draco yelled.

He dodged, firing a yellow jet back.

Draco deflected it. Ginny roared, “Expelliarmus!”

The wand flew from his hands. He scrambled after it, but Draco lunged for him. He caught the back of the Death Eater's robe, slamming him into the wall. “What are you doing here?” Draco's voice dripped with controlled malice. “In my home?”

The Death Eater cowered into the wall. “Just capturing! No lasting harm!” His eyes flicked to Ginny inadvertently.

Draco dug the tip of his wand into the man’s throat. “And her?” Rage burned inside of him.

The man swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing painfully against the pressure. “Killed, of course,” he whispered.

All hesitation left Draco. “Imperio.” The man’s face relaxed as the spell took hold. “Apparate instantly to the Ministry, turn yourself in, and send every available Auror here. Move!”

Eager to please, he jumped up, grabbed his wand, and Disapparated.

“Clever,” Ginny breathed.

Draco’s face remained steeled. “Ginny? Ideas on how to get Blaise?”

She grimaced, eyes still flicking everywhere. “They could Apparate him out at any second. Might have already. We don’t know where they have him now, and--” Even in the moonlight, he could see her face pale. “Draco, can you still feel the wards?”

He frowned. “No, they’re down. They came down--”

“Can you feel them down, or can you not feel anything?” Her voice filled with panic.

The panic spread to Draco at the realization. “Nothing at all. I’m not in control of them anymore.”

The air split with the cracks of multiple Apparations. Seven dark shapes filled the room. One at the back struggled in his bonds. “Run, Draco!” came Blaise’s voice. “They’ll kill--”

The Body Bind was recast on him, and he cut off.

Nott Sr. strode forward--

Ginny grabbed Draco's shoulder, and everything disappeared.

The blackness cleared to the sound of screaming. His own? Draco tried to focus, but found it only coming in gaps. He rolled to his side, red hair filling his vision. Ginny. Her voice screaming.

Instantly, he lurched to his knees, forcing the dizziness back. “Ginny! Ginny, what’s wrong?” But as he shook her shoulders, he saw it. Blood pooled under her shirt across her stomach.

Night still surrounded them. Only the porch lamp above provided light. Desperately, Draco pressed his hand to the wound, applying pressure. Should he risk a healing spell? He’d never been any good--

The door of their porch slammed open. Hermione guarded the opening, wand drawn. One look at the ground, and she dropped to her knees. “What happened?” she snapped, already casting healing spells.

“Splinch,” Ginny gritted through clenched teeth. Draco grabbed her hand. She squeezed back through the pain of the wound and the healing.

“Malfoy Manor’s been compromised,” Draco filled in, the dread only now hitting him full force. “We’ve had--” He stopped to gather his breath. “The Death Eaters, they took--” He cut off again.

Still gripping Ginny’s hand, his other reached up to brush hair out of her face. She managed a small, pained smile. It nearly broke his heart. Still trying to be strong, even while so much blood…The stain spread across her whole shirt, the puddle advancing on the ground. Draco jerked his eyes back up to her face. He could pretend it wasn’t so bad if he weren't watching.

Hermione reached into a pouch at her belt, drawing out some herbs she plastered across Ginny’s stomach and side. “I’ve dealt with splinching before, Draco,” Hermione said firmly. “Help me get her inside.”

Instantly, Draco levitated her body, drifting it after Hermione through the door into the living room. “Fred!” Hermione called. “Get in here now!”

Moments later, the bleary-eyed Weasley stumbled in. “What is it--” He cut off, face paling at the sight of his sister.

Hermione had none of that. “I need fresh towels, warm water, and a thick blanket. Now!”

Her husband dashed off, no time to wallow in shock.

Draco set Ginny down in Hermione’s bed. Her blood instantly spread across the white sheets. Hermione turned to him. “Good. Now out.”

Draco obeyed, retreating into the living room. Fred dashed into the bedroom with the towels, water, and blanket. Moments later, he reappeared empty-handed. With nothing else to do, he turned to Draco.

“What. Happened.” Fred bit out. Fury blazed in his eyes.

“She splinched--”

The fire blazed to life. “Hermione, are you there?” Harry’s head called out.

Fred dropped to his knees in front of the fire. “She’s handling an emergency. What is it?”

Harry scowled. “This is bigger. Malfoy Manor’s been breached. Three squads dispatched, but none of them can get past the wards. We don’t know if Ginny’s still inside, or alive, or--”

“She’s here.” Draco dropped next to Fred, joining the call. “Badly injured. You took your bloody time getting there!”

“How’d this happen, Malfoy?” Harry snapped. “I thought your wards would hold out Death Eaters, not give them back their fortress!”

“Right, like I bloody planned this!” Draco seethed. “Blaise, Goyle, and my mother could still be in there! Or worse!”

“Got any brilliant ideas, Malfoy? It’s your own damn home!”

“Homenum Revelio,” Draco replied. “The wards won’t stop it.”

The fire emptied as Harry left, flames still blazing green. Draco and Fred waited in silence.

Harry returned, shaking his head. “The house is empty. No bodies either. Whoever came already left.”

“And took what they wanted,” Draco added bitterly.

Hermione walked in, toweling blood off of her hands. “Set a squad on perimeter guard, Harry. Monitor it for any changes, and we’ll get a team of Wardbreakers over in the morning. There’s nothing more we can do now.”

Harry frowned, but nodded his fiery face in agreement, severing the connection.

Instantly, Draco turned to Hermione, his eyes pleading.

“She’s sleeping,” Hermione replied, dropping onto the couch. Fred joined her, wrapping an arm around her. “I’ll keep checking in on her, but she should be fine. She just needs rest now.”

Draco let his body slump. The next person to check on came to mind. “Could you...cast a Patronus? I need to check on my mother.”

Hermione nodded, her silver otter coalescing from her wand. “Listen to Draco and report what he says to Narcissa Malfoy.” The otter nodded, turning its silvery face to Draco instead.

The words slipped from his grasp. All he could think of was the puddle of blood surrounding Ginny. He refocused. Alive, and going to be fine. “Mother, it’s Draco. Are you alright? Where are you?”

The otter scampered off through the walls.

Slowly, Draco slid into a chair. He knew it was far from poetry, but it was all he could manage right now.

Hermione gave him time to gather his thoughts before asking, “What happened?”

Dropping his head into his hands, Draco sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe there was a flaw in the wards I didn’t know about, but the Death Eaters took them down in less than a minute.”

Shock registered across Fred’s and Hermione’s faces. Even simple wards often took longer than that. “That’s not much time,” Hermione breathed.

“Just enough to Apparate to Ginny,” Draco responded, barely keeping his voice from shaking. “Blaise, Goyle, my mother…” He took another deep breath. “We tried to free them, but there were too many Death Eaters. We were…” Just breathe, Draco reminded himself. Don’t fall apart here, not now. “Only Ginny realized they were putting the wards back up, to trap us, keep us in. And she…” He tried again, “She…”

“She barely got you out in time,” Fred finished with understanding.

Draco could only nod.

The silver otter scampered back in. In his mother’s voice, it replied, “AAHHHHHHHHH!” in a scream of terror. Draco’s heart clenched in his chest. What would they have against his mother?!

“Oh, a Patronus,” Narcissa’s voice continued. Draco could breathe again. “Don’t scare me like that, my son. I am unharmed, and in Argentina, staying at the place I always loved. I left the moment my door was locked. If you need to contact me again, please owl like a normal child.” Her voice cut out, and the Patronus faded away.

He knew the hotel she was referencing. Their last family vacation before the War had been there, a pleasant time for everyone. A clever thing to include, which no Death Eater would know about and proved she spoke for herself, not under wandpoint. Draco turned to Hermione again--

“To contact Blaise?” Hermione cut him off.

Draco nodded.

She shook her head. “Ginny hasn’t taught you Patronus protocol, then. With a hostage, wait until it’s more likely they’ll be unobserved, and only send a Patronus with a small shape. They’re sure to have guards now, and they’ll only make them say false information.” Her face twisted in sympathy. “I am sorry.”

Instead, Draco dropped to the fireplace, tossing Floo powder in. "Daphne Greengrass."

Moments later, her sleepy face appeared in the fire. "What do you want, Malfoy?" she snapped. "It's bloody three in the morning."

"The Malfoy Manor wards have been breached. Get somewhere different, right now. Somewhere safe."

Understanding the danger, she nodded, face tight, and severed the connection.

Draco called Warrington with the same advice. Warrington understood as well.

Turning back to Fred and Hermione, Draco asked, “Is there anything else you need from me?” His voice came out strangled.

Hermione shook her head again. “Get some sleep, Draco. I’ll handle the Wardbreakers tomorrow morning, and wake you for any developments.”

He nodded his thanks, heading for the bedroom.

“Where do you think you're going?” Fred stopped him. “She needs her sleep more than you do.”

“I won’t wake her. Or even touch her. I’m just not letting her out of my sight.”

The door closed behind him, and neither Fred nor Hermione had the heart to stop him.

Ginny woke in a strange room, in a strange bed, Draco Malfoy snoring on a cot next to her. His mouth hung open, slightly askew, drool trailing out onto his pillow. She couldn’t stop her snicker. So dignified.

As she watched him, one eye cracked open. An unreserved smile lit his face as his gaze met hers. “Hey, you,” Ginny said lazily.

At the sound of her voice, Draco shot into an upright position, fully awake. “Ginny! How do you feel?”

“Much better, I think.” As she said it, she twisted to face him. Pain flared across her stomach, radiating up her left side. With some trepidation, she pulled up the edge of her shirt, needing, but not wanting, to see how bad it was. She was greeted by an oozing mass of raw flesh. The skin bubbled around the edges, bruised and yellowed.

“It’s… not so bad,” Draco said, voice tight. “You’ll be back up and about in no time.”

Ginny allowed herself a small laugh, surprised that it hurt less than she might have expected. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“Hermione did put dittany on it,” he replied, taking on a more sober tone. “And she would have Flooed you to St. Mungo’s if she hadn’t been able to handle it.”

Ginny nodded, pleasantly surprised to see Draco's newfound respect for Hermione. “It’s why I came here. I knew whatever was going on, Hermione would be able to handle it. Or, at least, better than anyone else would,” she corrected.

Draco nodded easily, again surprising her. He gestured to the stacks of odd crates and half-finished gadgets strewn about the floor, on the table at the foot of the bed, and mixed in among the multiple bookcases along the walls. “Are we…?”

“Above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley.”

“So this is where the magic starts,” he chuckled.

“Draco,” Ginny started hesitantly, “any word from the others? You know, Blaise--”

“No word.” His face drew tight. “Not yet.”

Concern lit her face. "Your mother?"

He smiled at that. "She's fine. In Argentina, actually, and plans to stay there for as long as it takes."

That was good news, at least. She couldn't tell how Draco was holding up, with his house compromised, but at least he didn't have to worry about his mother. "There are only four of us left on active duty." Immediately, realization dawned and a dreaded thought clenched at her throat. "How will we tell the team?" she whispered. "

Draco dropped flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Haven't the faintest."

A soft knock came on the door, Hermione pushing it open. "Sounded like you were awake," she smiled. Hermione and Fred walked around to the side of the bed that didn't have Draco's cot. Self-conscious, he instantly sat up.

Fred tried to look unconcerned, but worry lines furrowed between his eyes. "Scared us a bit last night, Gin."

Ginny shrugged as well as she could. "Consider it retaliation for you scaring us at the Battle of Hogwarts. Is there any more you can do, Hermione?"

She nodded, pulling out her wand, and murmuring a few spells. The skin writhed and itched terribly, but nothing like the pain from the night before. Putting her wand away, she added, "That should be the last round. Put some more dittany on it once the bubbling goes down, and you should be back to normal."

Stretching experimentally, Ginny was pleased to note how manageable the pain was now. Draco, Fred, and Hermione all tensed as Ginny levered herself into a sitting position against the headboard. "I know my own limits," Ginny responded dryly. All three still watched her with skepticism.

"Any news?" Draco finally asked Hermione.

The witch winced, shaking her head. "Only bad. The Wardbreakers are still over there, and haven't made much progress."

A deep sigh left Draco. "Which means the Death Eaters definitely knew exactly how to take them down."

"They really are impressive wards, though, you were right on that count."

He gave her a withering glare. "So impressive that they held off the enemy for a whole thirty seconds."

Fred scratched his head. "Well you did say they were from Voldemort himself. Wouldn't that be how they were, you know, designed?"

Thankfully, Hermione cut in before Draco could. "Not if he re-keyed them. No one can get through even their own ward if it's been keyed against them." She turned to Draco. "You did re-key it, right?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "We've only re-keyed it about, oh, seventeen times since Voldemort's downfall?"

"Constant vigilance," Ginny smirked.

"For all the good it did," he muttered.

Ginny turned to Hermione. "Who knows about the raid?"

Hermione winced again. "Harry and I have classified the information until we know what's vital, but speculation is running rampant. Every newspaper seems to know about the attack, but reports vary widely even on who survived.”

Even Fred looked impressed by the mess. "People think Malfoy's dead, that he's fled the country, joined Voldemort, everything. Daily Prophet doesn't know what to say, so it's just trying to make him look like the victim."

Draco's brow furrowed. "I am the victim, if you hadn’t noticed."

Fred shrugged off the irrelevant detail.

"We need to talk to the team," Ginny said softly. She wasn't looking forward to it, not one bit, but it had to be done. "They deserve to know the truth."

Draco nodded solemnly. "I do, you mean. You're not going anywhere for a while."

Growling, Ginny swung her legs over the bed.

"Ginny, you shouldn't--" Hermione said.

Still growling, Ginny ignored her. In one great surge, she got to her feet. A bit unsteadily, but Draco grabbed her shoulders.

Looking her straight in her eyes, he pleaded, "Ginny. Stay here."

She ignored him. "Hermione, I'll need to borrow an Auror robe. And Fred, if you don't give me back my wand, I'll hex you so hard afterwards that you'll see the inside of your own skull."

Fred assumed a look of feigned innocence. "What makes you think I have it, Gin?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Wouldn't be the first time. Give it."

No one moved.

Hermione turned out to be the bravest. "Ginny, stay and rest up. The squad can function without you for one day."

Anger and grief mixed, unbidden, as Ginny fought to keep her composure. "The squad just lost two members. Like everything else wasn’t enough, we're down to four now. There won't BE a squad tomorrow." Ginny was greeted by silence from the rest of the room. Draco's carefully guarded expression spoke for him. He'd already realized. She turned back to Hermione and Fred. "Now, I will Floo to Madame Malkin's in my pajamas if I have to, wandless and all, or you can treat me like an adult and help me."

Without a word, Fred handed back her wand.

Resigned, Hermione turned to Draco. "Don't let her Apparate. Use the Floo when possible, Side-Along Apparate her if you have to." Draco nodded, and Hermione turned to Ginny. "Be. Careful."

Ginny smiled, hoping no one realized she might fall over at any second. "As careful as I always am."

Oddly enough, no one found that reassuring.

The Auror Floo luckily wasn't far from their Training Room. Draco kept an arm wrapped around Ginny as she walked as fast as she could manage. Still, it wasn't fast enough. Heads turned as they passed the few rooms and offices. At least it might fix the worst of the rumors, but there was no telling.

Outside the Training Room, Draco paused, taking a deep breath. Ginny watched him silently. Steeling himself, he shoved open the doors.

Warrington draped across a chair, drumming with his wand. Daphne...a fist clenched around Draco’s heart just looking at her. She perched on the edge of her seat, shooting up at the first sound of the door.

Eagerly, she peered past Draco and Ginny as they entered, searching. Finally, slowly, her gaze turned to Draco. “Where’s Blaise?” she asked. Every muscle in her face held taut as she waited for the answer.

“Blaise and Goyle were captured last night. By Death Eaters,” came Draco’s simple reply. As Daphne stood in shock, Draco guided Ginny to a chair. Daphne’s wrath would come, and he couldn’t risk Ginny receiving any of it. Warrington ceased his drumming, watching Draco with face blank.

Pronouncing every word with exacting precision, Daphne asked, “Where is he now?” Her eyes never left Draco’s face for an instant.

“I don’t know yet,” he said carefully. “We -- Ginny and I -- managed to capture a Death Eater, so there’s a chance he’ll know.”

She lifted her chin in the air, knuckles white on a wand he hadn’t seen her draw. “And why aren’t we interrogating him right now?”

“Harry already is,” Ginny replied quietly.

“Why aren’t we?” Daphne insisted.

Draco steeled himself. “Because we’re being disbanded.”

“WHAT?!” Pure fury exploded from her.

Ginny, seated while Daphne towered in rage, still met her gaze. “We’re under five members. At this size, we’d be a liability in battle, not an asset. They’ll split Slytherin Squad and divide us up among the other standing squads.”

Daphne blinked hard. Looking away, she took a minute to compose herself. “We’ll still be chasing Blaise and Goyle, right?” she finally managed.

Slowly, Draco shook his head. “It’s not likely. It’s the most dangerous case right now, so it’ll be senior squads only. And as you and Warrington are fairly fresh out of training…”

“We’ll be on a junior squad, guarding some monument,” she replied, all emotion gone.

He could only nod.

“And after you and Weasley find them?” Warrington asked. “We come back?”

“Potentially,” Ginny said. “But for all we know, it could be a while before we get them back.”

Daphne’s face contorted as she looked away. Even as she tried to hide it, tears poured unmistakably down her cheeks.

“I’ll keep both of you informed of everything I learn.” Draco gave them the only thing he could. “But I don’t know if I’ll even be on one of the squads.”

“You will be,” Ginny said softly.

Surprised at her surety, he turned to her.

She just shrugged. “Harry offered me my choice of any squad, and I’m not going to one you’re not on. Or one that isn’t chasing Blaise and Goyle.”

Draco could only stare, grateful once again. “But aren’t you on medical leave?”

Ginny waved his concern away. “I’ll be fine in a few days. You can last that long on a squad without me, right?”

“It had better be more than a few days,” Draco insisted. He’d seen the severity of her injury, and started to realize why her family was being so protective of her.

Warrington tilted his head. “What’s this?”

Ginny sighed. “I splinched myself in the raid on Malfoy Manor. It won’t be bad for much longer.”

“No, not serious at all!” Draco said, exasperated. “Only right across all your vital organs!”

But Ginny’s attention wasn’t on him anymore. Instead, she focused on the quietly crying girl behind him.

Ginny stood, trying to hide her wince. “Will you excuse us?” She put a hand on Daphne’s shoulder, guiding her through the sound-proof glass doors into the combat area of their Training Room.

“I’m fine,” Daphne tried wiping her eyes. “Go be with the rest of the team, I’ll be ok.”

Ginny didn’t believe a word of it. Instead, she sank to the ground behind one of the enormous white blocks used for cover. As an added benefit, it completely hid the view from the doors, giving them privacy. Ginny motioned to the ground next to her. “I’d rather be with the quarter of the team in here.” Reluctantly, Daphne sat.

Both girls awkwardly stared straight ahead. Ginny regretted not getting to know Daphne better before this. “Blaise was ok before I Apparated out.” Daphne spun at this, eyes glued to Ginny’s face. “Captured and bound, but still perfectly intact. He warned Draco to run, I think because they’d kill me. I’m not sure, they re-bound his mouth before Blaise could finish.”

Closing her eyes, the Slytherin girl let out a sigh. “Thank you.”

“Just when he’d gotten better, too.”

Silence stretched, but not so awkwardly as before. “Is there anything I can do for you?” Ginny asked. “A junior squad you’d like to go to? I can’t promise anything for certain, but I will try my hardest.”

Daphne just shook her head. “I never had much patience. I’ll just resign and get it over with.”

That caught Ginny by surprise. “But they won’t let you back in, once we have Blaise!”

“I’m aware of that,” she replied softly. “But I joined to help Slytherin and to stop getting glares from self-righteous witches when I walk down the street. Not to watch everyone I love be destroyed.”

“Won’t guarding a monument at least be better than sitting around waiting, doing nothing?”

Daphne arched one perfect eyebrow. “I’d hex my Captain on the first day. Don’t tell me you don’t know it.”

“Or punch them. You have a mean right-hook.”

That made her smile. Looking down at her hands fiddling with the hem of her robe, she added, “If anyone needs a place to stay, my home’s always open. My parents left Britain after the War, and Astoria has her own place, so it’s just me.” She shrugged. “The wards aren’t Malfoy-level, but they’re the best Blaise could…” She squeezed her eyes shut.

Ginny placed a hand on her arm. “Thank you. That means more than you could know.”

Daphne gave a strangled laugh. “Oh, I know the rate of homelessness on this team. It’s the least I can do.”

Daphne, Warrington, Draco, and Ginny sat quietly in the Training Room. They had each independently realized that this was the last time they would be together as a unit. Daphne turned a sealed letter over and over in her hands, waiting for the official summons to deliver it to whatever new captain she was to be saddled with.

Draco had offered to take it for her, so that she could get it over with, but her offended glare had stopped that. She refused to resign on his watch, and he loved her for it.

Draco sipped his tea from Ginny, for once barely noticing its taste.

The door to the Training Room opened. “Wow, they weren’t kidding when they said you guys were short on members.”

Draco turned his head towards the owner of the hideous, loathsome voice. “Come to gloat, Weasley?”

Ron dropped into a vacant chair between Ginny and Warrington. “I was interrogating the Death Eater you and Ginny got for us yesterday—thanks for that—and Harry mentioned you guys would fold up shop. What with the traitors, and the kidnappings, and the injuries…”

“Your point?” Draco spat out.

Ron shrugged, irritatingly nonchalant. “You needed another member, and I thought, hell, it’s been a long while since I’ve been on an active squad. So here I am.”

Draco stared, disbelieving. “You’re joining Slytherin Squad?”

Ron shrugged again. "With all the Death Eater attention focused on this squad, it seemed beyond stupid to just give them what they wanted."

Draco raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm glad somebody finally figured that out."

"We're not being disbanded," Daphne said with a relieved sigh.

Ron nodded patronizingly. “Now would be when you thank me, Malfoy.”

Draco’s face twisted with the pain of it. Before he could even start to form the words, Ginny cut in.

“Thank you, Ron,” she said. “We’d be lost right now if we had to disband on top of everything else. It means the world. To all of us.”

Draco gave a curt nod at that. It wasn’t so bad if he didn’t have to say the words himself.

Ron paused for a moment, then said, “Slytherins, Gin, really? And how’d you get yourself on medical leave, anyway? Harry just said you were injured.”

“Splinched herself pretty good saving Malfoy,” Warrington unhelpfully volunteered.

Ron’s eyes flared with cold light. “She what?”

Daphne nodded, misunderstanding Ron’s anger. “Sliced open all her vital organs.”

“Not all of them!” Ginny protested frantically. “Just a bit of blood, really. And I was saving myself too, Ron!”

Ron stalked over to Draco’s chair, glaring down at him. “You mean to tell me you nearly killed my sister. Again.” His words came out clipped and hard.

“No,” Draco said, and refused to stand. “Not me; them. The raid was so bad that it could have killed the most exceptional Auror I know.”

“And they captured two others,” Daphne added softly.

Ron and Draco glared daggers at each other.

"What did you get out of the interrogation, Ron?" Ginny asked hurriedly, determined to pretend nothing was wrong.

After a long, slow beat, Ron turned to his sister.

"Locations, mostly,” he grunted.  “Hermione's already sent her senior squads out to most of them."

That was the last straw. "So AGAIN we're excluded from what should be our mission," Draco fumed.

Ron laughed, dropping back into his own chair.

Draco turned to him, his mouth drawn in a hard, pale line. "Something amusing, Weasley?"

Ginny cast a worried look at Draco, as though about to intervene, but remained silent.

Ron snorted. “I said most of the locations, Malfoy, if you’d bothered to listen. Not all. She's left the most likely places out of her raids."

"What?" Draco snapped, utterly confused.

"She's saving them for us?" Ginny said, awed. "Because of her mole?"

Ron nodded. "Making it seem like she just doesn't know about the other places, not saying anything about them anywhere. So that when she sends Slytherin Squad in, after Ginny's healed..." He trailed off suggestively.

“They'll have regrouped there. All of them,” Draco said, with dawning understanding.

"That'll still be a lot to handle for five Aurors," Ginny pointed out. "Normally we'd at least have backup."

"Hermione and Harry will join us," Ron said, kicking his feet up on the small table. "But they can't even be seen to remember you exist until then. No one has the slightest idea who the mole is, and they can't take the time to root it out right now."

“It’s brilliant,” Daphne breathed, and Draco couldn’t help agreeing. Internally, at least.

“And now,” Ron added, with a pointed glare at the still-recovering Ginny, “we wait.”

But Daphne stood. “I’m done waiting. Lieutenant, will you show me the Patronus Charm again?”

Ginny stood, her face splitting in a grin. “I’d love to.”

A chair had been moved into the battle room specifically for Ginny, at Draco and Ron’s joint insistence, to both of their annoyance.

Within thirty minutes, Daphne seemed to have mastered the wand-work and the nuances of pronunciation. All that remained was—

“Can you think of a happy thought?” Ginny asked softly, not wanting to dredge up bad memories.

Daphne just laughed. “Too many to choose, but I think I have one that should do the trick.” Her voice turned hard, her face utterly focused, as she cried, “Expecto Patronum!”

Silver mist exploded from her wand, swirling in front of her like a shield of cloud. It was impressively large, but Daphne looked frustrated. She dispelled the charm with a flick of her wrist.

“Daphne, that was great! You--”

“Expecto Patronum!” Daphne ignored her lieutenant. Again, the silver mist, again the irritated flick. “Expecto Patronum!” she tried again.

“Daphne!” Ginny shouted before she could dispel the mist. “Stop it!”

Confused, she let the mist fade as she turned to her lieutenant. “What am I doing wrong?”

“Beating yourself up about it,” Ginny said. “Even Flitwick, our Charms professor, never had a corporeal Patronus.”

“You have one,” Daphne replied stubbornly.                                

“But you might not,” Ginny insisted. “You may eventually,” she added, to cut off the other girl’s protests, “but definitely not if you keep getting mad that you don’t have it.”

Daphne gave an abrupt nod, looking away. Moments later, she added softly, “But a non-corporeal Patronus won’t help me find Blaise.”

Ginny sighed. “Neither will my Patronus. It’s too big. And it’s still too soon to send one -- Blaise will still likely be under guard. Ron’s dog might be small enough, so we’ll try that tomorrow.”

“Ron has a corporeal Patronus,” Daphne said flatly. At Ginny’s nod, she started the wand movements again. “Screw that. I’m not letting the Weasel King beat me at anything. I’ve got it from here, Lieutenant. Expecto Patronum!”

Again the brilliant silver mist, quickly banished. Ginny stood with a sigh, recognizing stubborn determination when she saw it. At least Daphne would have plenty of practice.

Draco quite agreed with Daphne’s stance on waiting. And besides, he was naturally impatient, and saw no reason to stop just because his best friend was captured.

He paced the stretch of woods he’d specified in his letter. The top of Malfoy Manor showed just above the trees, distant and small from this edge of the warded land, buried deep in the heart of the woods. More importantly, it was an edge the Wardbreakers weren’t focused on. The gates by the front of the Manor held the attention of the Ministry officials, which suited Draco just fine.

A faint pop sounded behind him. Draco turned towards his old Potions master, looking out of place amongst the trees in his stained black robes. “You hoped I would have some... knowledge… on this matter?” Snape rasped.

Draco nodded, laying the tip of his wand against the wards, and watching the resulting ripples in the air. “No one’s been able to get in, including me. And wards this strong shouldn’t have fallen so quickly. There’s something I’m not seeing.”

Snape strode forward, laying his palm experimentally against the invisible barrier. “And you think I might.”

“You were there when Voldemort made them, weren’t you?”

His face tilted. “No.”

“Oh.” Draco looked away to hide his disappointment. “Thanks for coming then, I won’t waste any more of your--”

“I was there when he reinforced them.”

At Draco’s puzzled look, Snape continued. “You’ve had wards here all your life. The Dark Lord just took them, made them his, and made them stronger. Now when would that have been?”

Under Snape’s watchful eyes, Draco felt eleven all over again. “Right after Father got out of prison.”

Snape inclined his head. “And how well did your father and Voldemort get along at that time?”

Draco winced at the memory of the constant mocking and belittling directed towards his family, and his father’s failure in particular. “Not well.”

“So if you were Lucius, when Voldemort demanded control of your own wards, what would you have done?”

The realization hit Draco like a herd of hippogriffs. “He’d have built a backdoor into it. A way to take back control from Voldemort if he had to.”

Snape nodded. “I have no actual knowledge of its existence, yet given the current circumstances, it seems the logical explanation. If Macnair had stumbled across some hidden knowledge that allowed him to decimate wards in seconds...”

Draco placed his hand against the invisible barrier, resting against its impenetrable surface. “Then they would still be decimated.”

“Precisely.”

“But…” Draco’s mind wheeled as he tried to process the new information. “How would Macnair--” He cut himself off, not needing Snape to point out the obvious conclusion. “My father told them.”

Snape nodded.

“While my mother and I were still in there, he told them.” Bitterness seeped into his voice despite his efforts to hide it.

“The Death Eaters did not harm Narcissa, as you well know. In fact, everything you heard from the one you captured tells me that no harm was intended to come to anyone staying there, save the Weasley girl. They even failed to punish Zabini for trying to warn you.”

“At least not in front of me,” Draco growled. And harming the ‘Weasley girl’ was no small matter, not to him.

“Even assuming that were correct, why would Macnair care if it were in front of you?”

Growing dread settled over Draco. “You’re sure it’s Father? That his hand pulls the levers?”

Snape looked at Draco for a time, his black eyes grave and unwavering. “I see no other hand it points to. I am sorry, Draco,” he managed at last.

Draco sighed heavily. “Any idea how to reclaim the wards?”

Snape’s mouth twisted as he surveyed the land. “Something outside the wards, clearly. Likely close to the Manor, if he wasn’t thinking in terms of utmost security.”

“Utmost security?” The phrase scared Draco more than he would admit.

“Like getting a vault at a French bank in an assumed name, and putting a single enchanted item in it, designed to give the holder instant control of the wards.” Snape raised an eyebrow at Draco’s concern. “Lucius was hardly so meticulous. I think it much more likely to be located nearby.”

That managed to be reassuring even though his family honor still pricked at the insult. “How would I find it nearby, then? Scanning for magic?”

“Scanning for magical items,” his former professor corrected. “Even the faintest trace of magic could be it. Anything abnormal outside the edge of the wards should be investigated.”

Draco looked out over the vast forest his land encompassed, dreading the daunting task that lay before him. “Thank you. This has been... most helpful.”

The older man’s expression softened. “Do not hesitate to call, Draco. This world is too small to forget those we call friend.”

 “Likewise,” Draco said, a small lump sitting painfully in his throat.

Snape gave an abrupt nod, and Apparated away. The characteristic pop lingered softly in the still air.

Hermione paused to process the new information, her feet tucked up under her on her couch, a mug clutched casually in her hands. Ginny remained silent next to Draco, brow furrowed.

“Well, Lucius is still in Azkaban,” Hermione eventually replied. “So if he is pulling levers, they’d have to be long levers.”

“My mother removed his access to our vaults,” Draco supplied, “so that should hopefully cut down on his ability to bribe Aurors.”

Ginny frowned. “But he could have other accounts we don’t know about.”

Draco nodded. “I don’t see what we could do to stop that though.”

Hermione ran her hands over her face wearily. “You have no idea how frustrating it is to find so many holes in my ranks. At least Slytherin Squad lost its traitors during the fiasco at Yaxley's trial. And your raid on the Nott House, while difficult, clearly wasn't betrayed. If they'd known you were coming, they would have at least destroyed the evidence before you got there." She sighed deeply. "Which is more than I can say for any other squad. Vital information leaks like a sieve, no matter which senior squad I give it to. If I could have Slytherin Squad guard Azkaban right now, I would.”

“Wait, why can’t we?” Ginny volunteered. “I’m just recovering, but Azkaban shouldn’t be a problem for my injury, and I’m nearly better. How long’s it been since you guys rotated in?” She asked Draco. “I don’t remember anyone mentioning it.”

“We’ve never guarded Azkaban.” Draco raised an eyebrow at her. “It would be a family reunion.”

“Oh.” Ginny bit her lip, trying to hide her laughter. Hermione seemed to be struggling as well.

“I’d love to send a junior squad to scour the Malfoy Manor grounds, at least,” Hermione eventually replied, “but I’m worried it’ll draw attention back to you and your squad.”

Draco’s eyebrows nearly shot off his face. He hadn’t expected her to take action at all, let alone immediately.

“Once you send us on the raid, the Death Eaters will know anyway.” Ginny sipped absently on her hot chocolate. “Could you scour the grounds at that point? Unless there’s anything dire you need from your house before then, Draco?”

About to shake his head, he stopped when Hermione lit up. “Why do I always think in terms of Aurors?” she said, a little bitterly. “I’ll adjust the orders for the Wardbreakers a bit, and it shouldn’t cause a fuss at all. They might not find anything, but we can always go over the ground again after the raid. Is that good with you?”

“Sounds better than good,” Draco replied honestly.

The morning of Hermione’s raids loomed dark and tense over the Aurors. Ginny and Draco waited with Hermione and Ron in the War Room, as it had been playfully dubbed once, but the name had stuck. Five maps spread across the huge table in the middle of the room, showing the five different locations the Auror squads were moving on, with glowing dots to represent the different squad member's current locations. The pink dots representing Tonk’s squad approached nearer to the disused factory. Harry's blue dots marched on a wayward cottage. Green, yellow and red dots moved on their respective maps as well. 

Other than the many comfortable chairs, designed for long waits, scattered about the room, the only other distinguishing factor was the walls, lined with Floo upon Floo. Ambushes and retreats were designed to start or end here. Additionally, as the hub of all information, Ginny and Draco found it the perfect way to keep tabs on the raids. And with the level of security that surrounded the room, only Ron and Hermione would ever know they were there. Even as close as Ginny could get to the action, she still felt useless.

Hermione frowned looking down at the map, wand out and tapping against her arm restlessly. “I warned them that since the Death Eaters knew we’d captured one of them, anything he knew would be considered compromised by them. So it’s quite possible all of the locations are now traps.”

“So they know to retreat at a moment’s notice?” Ginny said.

Hermione nodded distractedly, still staring at the map.

“What do you fear?” Draco asked. “These are your senior squads. Even going into a potentially compromised situation, it shouldn’t be bad. They’ve trained for this.”

“She fears the mole,” Ron supplied, frowning down at the map from the other end. “We’ve no bloody idea which squad their on. Harry’s with the squad that’s had the most suspicious behavior, but nothing’s been even that suspicious.”

“But what can the mole even do?” Ginny said, eyeing Tonk’s dot. “I mean, it’s already a potentially compromised situation.”

Hermione whispered, “That’s what I fear. Compromised once is bad enough."

Harry, Tonks, Hawlish, Mardling, and Williamson led the five squads. Silence reigned over the room as all four of them stared down at the steadily moving dots. Hermione pulled out five Detachable Ears, placing each on their respective maps.

She tapped the first one, Harry's, with a rap of her wand. "Report."

Harry's voice came through easily. "Nothing so far. Standard sweep, but not even a doxy. I'll let you know when it changes."

Hermione turned to the next one, Mardling, but had the same report.

Williamson's gruff voice came through next. "The air's loaded clean through with magic, though nothing dark, or even fatal, so far as my Charms Expert can tell. You'll be the first to know when we find what it is."

"Still sweeping," Hawlish reported briskly. "Nothing to report."

"There's some odd spell or two here," Tonks responded, last of the Captains, "but nothing we can't handle. We've dismantled two already, but they were just jinxes, and not strong ones at that."

"Macnair's work," Draco supplied the moment Hermione cut the connection. "He was pure rubbish at wards. I'd bet that's not a dead lead."

Hermione nodded tensely. Her hand reached for Tonks' map.

One moment, Williamson’s map was covered in green dots. A moment later, the dots vanished.

Hermione's wand crashed onto Williamson's ear. "Williamson! Do you read me?"

Only silence greeted her.

"Williamson, do you copy?" she tried again, to more silence. Draco, Ron, and Ginny jumped to their feet, ready to join in.

Tonks' map flashed red, indicating injury. Sound poured from the ear, activated from the other side.

Ron lunged for that ear. "Tonks! Status!"

Garbled sound came through. Faintly, a voice muttered indistinctly.

"That's a battle." Grimness stole over Ginny. "I definitely heard the Killing Curse." Her wand clenched tight in her fist.

Hermione grabbed Harry's and Hawlish's ears. "All squads converge on Tonks’ location!" she yelled at both of them. "It's an ambush!" Changing those ears for Mardling's she yelled, "Full retreat to War Room, Mardling! Situation critical!"

Without even a second glance, Hermione tossed a long, shimmery cloak at Ginny and Draco, both still standing helplessly. Grimly, they recognized it. An Invisibility Cloak. Meaning the only way they could help would be by not revealing Slytherin Squad.

Ron cast his Patronus. "Find Auror Williamson!" he told it, "And get him to report in!"

Reluctantly, Ginny wrapped one edge of the cloak around her, stepping into the farthest corner of the room. Draco followed her lead, positive his grimace matched hers. While they cowered far away from the commotion, Hermione yelled frantically into a Floo. Ron grabbed the three ears for the squads in battle. He hovered over the War Room table, studying Tonks’ map with the critical eye of an experienced Auror.

Mardling and her eight Aurors Apparated in a moment later. A confident witch with a patch on one eye, she strode to Hermione. "Situation?" Mardling asked crisply.

"Williamson's squad completely vanished," Hermione gestured helplessly at the still-empty parchment. Harry and Hawlish’s dots from the other maps now congregated alongside Tonks' pink ones. Her map still flashed red, indicating more injuries. "All we have to go on is that he mentioned the house teeming with magic, nothing Dark or too dangerous, but he could have been wrong."

Explosions now could be heard through the Ears of the squads, with spells said more clearly. Most of the spells were Dark, and none from familiar Auror voices.

"That's Nott Sr," Draco whispered barely audibly, even to Ginny next to him under the cloak. "Sounds like quite a few."

Mardling steeled herself. "You want us to charge in?"

But Hermione violently tossed her head. "Find the squad!"

The Captain nodded, setting her team to casting Patronuses.

Everyone quieted as Ron's shining silver terrier trotted through the walls. It turned to Ron. "Williamson says--" and it let out a garbled scream.

Silence reigned complete.

An explosion of sound followed.

"I want a team of Detectors standing by--" Hermione yelled at the Floo grate, followed by, "No, I don't care what it takes--"

"Patronuses out? Will's squad names are here, go down the list--" Mardling lectured her squad.

"Statute of Secrecy be damned! If it takes a bloody battalion of Obliviators, I'll pay them myself--" Hermione streamed righteous fury as she sent orders through Floo after Floo.

Only Ron ignored the pandemonium, trying to get word from the three battling squads. Finally, a strained yell from Harry announced, "It's a Disorientation Hex!"

Muttering the counter spell on himself, Ron Disapparated with a crack.

"How's this for hiding?" Draco muttered, knowing Ginny felt worse.

"Bloody amazing," Ginny snapped sarcastically. "So glad I'm an Auror now."

A badger Patronus returned. Everyone waited with baited breath. "Mokely says, 'I'm in Albania, I think. I'm stuck and the woods look fairly dark, and I think I hear something coming--'"

Hermione strode to the Patronus caster. "Focus, write the coordinates down. Last known location."

The short wizard nodded, scrawling hurriedly. He shoved a scrap of paper at her.

Hermione tossed a handful of powder into the nearest Floo. "Auror Weasley," she demanded. Instead of looking at the fire, she tilted her gaze towards the very empty-looking corner of the room. "Take this, find what you can."

Silently, Ginny Accioed the slip of paper as Hermione pretended to feed it to the fire.

The moment the paper touched her fingers, Ginny Apparated Draco away with a crack lost amidst the clamor and confusion.

The Invisibility Cloak came with them, and Ginny wasn't the slightest bit sorry. The woods, if you could call them that, loomed ominously as she and Draco stood back-to-invisible-back, scanning for threats. Thick moss hung off the trees in sheets, only a faint trickle of light making it through. Growls echoed in the distance. Huge branches crunching followed after. Ginny could only unhelpfully remember that Voldemort had chosen here to rise again from. Twice.

"I don't like this," Draco muttered. "Not one bit."

She ignored him. "Expecto Patronum." Her silver horse galloped forth. "Lead me to Mokely."

The horse trotted off to the edge of their small clearing. Ginny tried to follow, struggling with the cloak. Giving up, she shoved it at Draco. Her side panged as she jogged after the horse.

"You're the Death Eater target, Weasley," he growled, invisibly following her. "Take the cloak, I'll be fine--"

"No, you're the Captain of Slytherin Squad," she shot back. "Who very definitely shouldn't be here. And who can't be seen by Mokely without endangering everything."

"If he can't keep his bloody mouth shut, why the hell are we bothering to rescue him?" Draco snarled, but didn't protest further.

The growls sounded closer. It might've been darker, but she couldn't tell if that was just in comparison to the Patronus.

Ginny glanced over her shoulder, unnerved to see nothing but a faint shimmer.

"Still here," Draco drawled from behind her shoulder. "I have your back, keep going."

Her Patronus stopped. She sped up, ignoring the pain in her side.

"Stop!" a voice whispered fiercely. Ginny instantly complied. Mokely sat on the ground amidst the undergrowth that nearly hid him. His legs sprawled at unnerving angles. "I seem to have landed in a Permanent Sticking Charm. Not sure how far it goes."

On second look, Ginny realized that his arms, as he leaned back on them to stay upright, were just as glued as his legs. The hand holding his wand was submerged at the elbow, leaving him very little fighting ability. Her Patronus vanished after finding the target.

But Ginny seized upon the important word. "Landed?"

Mokely nodded. "Tugging behind my belly, and I spun all the way here. International, too. Been here before to root out Dark wizards."

Twigs snapped restlessly behind her as Draco paced.

To Ginny's complete surprise, Hermione ran up from the other side of Mokely, hidden before by the massive trees. "Mokely! It took ages to find you! Report in!"

“Hermione?” Confusion spread across Ginny’s face. “Is there some emergency here?”

Hermione stopped on hearing Ginny’s voice. “I hope not,” she replied after a moment. “But hopefully this will help us solve the others. Ginny, do you have any idea what’s going on? How we can solve this?” She sounded as stressed as she looked, with a deep frown line etched between her brows.

“I think it’s Portkeys, if that helps any,” Ginny replied.

Hermione looked deep in thought as she walked toward Ginny. They surveyed Mokely together, shoulder-to-shoulder. “Portkeys, that makes sense. Does this fit with anything else that you know? Some retaliation that could have caused it?”

Mokely remained silent, letting the friends and superior officers do the talking.

Ginny shrugged. “Well, they knew we were coming, obviously. It’s a good ambush tactic.”

Draco, still hidden under his cloak, listened with a sense of detachment. Something was strange about this whole thing, and it was more than just Mokely stuck in mud. Why Albania? Why bother wasting an ambush to Portkey an Auror to a perfectly safe, if remote, location?

“Good ambush, yes.” If Hermione frowned any harder, her face would stay that way. “But what do they want with it? You haven’t learned anything?”

Ginny shook her head. “Hostages? Scaring us? Whatever it is, it’s working so far. I think we should just let Headquarters know it’s Portkeys and focus on Mokely.”

Mokely nodded with enthusiasm. “I like the sound of that.”

Ginny gestured to Hermione. “You want to Patronus it in?”

But Hermione shook her head. “I’m not a fan of long distances.”

Ginny shrugged, summoning her Patronus with an eloquent, “Tell Auror Mardling it’s Portkeys.”

Behind her, Draco couldn’t breathe. After Malfoy Manor fell, Hermione hadn’t even hesitated when Draco asked for her Patronus. A Patronus which had traveled worldwide, to his mother in Argentina, without even a hint of a glitch. Brightest witch of her age, indeed.

And why was Hermione even here? She couldn’t be so paranoid that she’d follow up on her Aurors only scant minutes after sending them out. The strangeness grew even stronger. A single phrase whispered into Draco’s mind, and once it started, he couldn’t make it stop.

This isn’t Hermione.

He felt idiotically paranoid. But as Draco watched, he realized that Hermione had still not lowered her wand -- nor pointed it away from Ginny. Ginny, who stood at ease chatting with her best friend.

Sweat broke out. He could take down the-Hermione-whatever-it-was, but…

“Homenum Revelio,” he whispered, casting it into the trees.

Two blue lights popped up, indicating two wizards hiding behind them. Draco didn’t even have time to swear. It confirmed his worst fears. Of course a fake Hermione-thing would have come protected. Her bodyguard Death Eaters would have felt his Homenum Revelio and be preparing-- to strike, leave, anything. Draco couldn’t let them do that. Whatever this weirdness was, he had to stop it.

But he would have to open the Invisibility cloak to fire a spell. Which meant the Death Eaters would spot him instantly, and take him down. Hopefully, non-fatally. But he’d be lucky to even finish a single spell before being hit. How could he alert Ginny to the fake Hermione without the fake firing on them, the Death Eaters swooping in to help, or abandoning Mokely? Oh, and all without giving Slytherin Squad away by revealing himself. No pressure.

If he spoke, Fake Hermione would hear. Before Ginny could understand, the Fake would have fired on her.

He could fire on the Death Eaters, but again, the Fake would shoot Ginny. It was risky at best to hope the Fake would pull punches. There was nothing stopping her from the Killing Curse. Even less stopping her from simply grabbing an unsuspecting Ginny and Side-Along Apparating her away. And with Draco engaged with two Death Eaters, there wouldn’t be anything he could do to stop it.

Draco swore internally. If this were solvable, he wasn’t seeing it.

“Any ideas yet on how to free Mokely?” Ginny asked ‘Hermione’, her brow furrowed as she stared at the pinned Auror.

“I’m still thinking. How are things going for the team?”

Ginny shrugged, her eyes flicking to Mokely in an attempt to signal to ‘Hermione’ why she couldn't speak freely. “As well as can be expected.”

‘Hermione’ simply nodded.

Draco’s brain fired on overdrive. It wouldn’t be long now before ‘Hermione’ acted. Any signal he made to Ginny would be understood more quickly by Fake Hermione, who already knew what was going on. If instead, Draco fired, Fake Hermione would again get the drop on Ginny.

Unless...

The kernels of an idea began to form, but he didn’t like the shape it was taking.

Yes, it might work. But it would definitely get Draco shot. Getting shot was one of his least favorite things.

A devious grin stole over his invisible face. He would get shot, but the Death Eaters couldn’t risk anything serious hitting their precious Fake Hermione. So if Draco stood between them and what they were protecting...

Wondering if this was what going insane felt like, Draco crept invisibly in front of where he remembered the blue dots of the Death Eaters. With a deep, steadying breath, he lined himself up between the Death Eaters and the fake Hermione.

Ginny, talented Auror that she was, would spot which direction the shot came from. And with Draco down and out of the way, she’d have the perfect line of fire at the Death Eaters. Draco grinned. This was a signal she’d understand instantly.

Draco stuck his wand-arm out of the cloak. “Stupefy!” The bolt caught the fake Hermione squarely. She crumpled. A Stunner slammed into Draco’s back. The ground rushed up to meet him as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Ginny spun at the first spell. Hermione crumpled even as Ginny returned fire. “In the trees!” she yelled to Mokely. They were sitting ducks out here in the open. She wondered about Draco, but had to hope he could take care of himself. A Stunner zinged past her. Ginny barely dodged.

Mokely fought too, little that he could. Ginny wished he would just shield them, but she couldn’t waste breath to ask.

The trees gave the Death Eaters too much of an advantage. “Confringo!” Ginny poured every ounce of her power into the spell. The woods exploded into a fireball. Two Death Eaters jumped out of the way. Gotcha.

“Stupefy!” Mokely dropped one. The other grabbed his fallen comrade. With a crack, they Disapparated.

Where was Draco? “Homenum Revelio!” A blue dot appeared, horrifyingly close to her explosion. She rushed to the dot, tearing back the Invisibility cloak. Soot covered him, but hopefully nothing worse. “Rennervate!”

He sputtered awake. “The Death Eaters?”

“They got away. You’re alright?”

“Stunner, I’m fine.” He jumped to his feet. Relief washed over him at seeing Hermione’s Stunned body. “Don’t let her wake up or get away. That’s not Hermione.”

Mokely’s face twisted in disbelief. “Not Hermione? What are you even doing here, Slytherin?”

Ginny ignored the other Auror, looking closer at her fallen friend. Yes, something had seemed off, but… She picked up the wand Hermione had been holding, turning it over in her hands. “Huh. This isn’t hers.”

Draco arched an eyebrow, I told you so, leaking from every inch of his face. Ginny still wasn’t sure. That was an awfully big accusation--

Hermione groaned, coming to.

“Stupefy!” Ginny shot her again. Big accusation or not, she’d trust Draco until proven otherwise.

Pride practically radiated from him. Merlin, it felt wonderful to be taken seriously and respected. If this was a perk of real leadership, Draco considered himself addicted. He cast ropes around the Fake Hermione, just to be sure.

Mokely turned disbelieving eyes on Ginny. "What-- You just-- She just--"

“It’s not Hermione,” Ginny repeated. “Calm down, and we’ll sort everything out.”

But he refused to be redirected. "That's our boss," Mokely managed through surprise. Then corrected, "Our boss's boss. How could you--"

This time it was Draco’s turn. "Stupefy."

Mokely slumped, dropping backwards into the Sticking Charm.

Draco sighed, scrubbing a hand through his grey, soot-stained hair. “That couldn’t have helped less. Any clever ideas, Weasley?”

Ginny nodded grimly. “Cut the ground out, take it with us, let someone else solve it.”

Draco took a moment to think, then nodded, resigned. “Let’s cut him out.”

Eventually, they cut far enough down. Draco cast the Hover Charm, keeping Mokely afloat, while Ginny prepared to Side-Along Apparate Mokely, mound and all. In a moment of foresight, Ginny conjured a sheet of parchment, scrawling a quick note on it. Folding it and adding the seal of the Aurors, she stuffed it back in her pocket. Draco noticed, but said nothing.

“I’ll meet you in the Training Room after dropping him at St. Mungo’s,” she said to Draco.

“I’ll leave the moment you’re gone,” he replied. “And I’ll take the Hermione.”

She Disapparated. The feeling of being sucked into a tube was all the worse with a pile of dirt tagging along. The dank forest zoomed by, landing her instead amid the white walls of St. Mungo’s.

The humongous pile of dirt crashed into the hospital waiting room. Every witch and wizard jumped out of their seats in shock. A Healer in lime green robes hurried over. “What is--”

“Spell accident, Auror business,” Ginny blurted out before she herself would be remembered. She shoved her sealed letter into the Healer’s hands. “Give him that once you’ve managed to free him.”

The Healer nodded sharply, used to the urgency of Auror incidents, and turned back to Mokely and his mound. Quickly, witches and wizards were coming over by the droves to investigate. And with a pop, Ginny was gone.

Daphne and Warrington jumped at Draco’s arrival in the Training Room. Ginny followed only a few moments later.

Draco brushed a bit more soot off of his robes. “What was that letter you were writing?”

His Lieutenant looked pointedly elsewhere. “Oh, just a note from Hermione, telling Mokely to keep his fat mouth shut, and report in as soon as possible.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “That you forged.”

Ginny nodded unabashedly. “I got good at it back in Hogwarts. She’s caught me a few times, but as long as I don’t say anything she wouldn’t, she’s fine with it. Although I am guaranteed a disapproving scowl.”

Daphne giggled. “Oh, that’s wicked. Think of the things we could--”

“Uh uh,” Ginny cut her off. “If I even start to abuse this, Hermione’ll have my hide. Friendship doesn’t go past court-martial.”

“Speaking of Hermione,” Draco drawled, throwing back the Cloak the rest of the way.

Daphne gasped.

“Don’t you mean speaking of court-martial?” Warrington growled. “How the hell are you going to swing this one, Weasley?”

Draco ignored Warrington for the moment, turning to his Lieutenant. “You’ll let her know?”

Ginny nodded, conjuring another parchment.

            Hermione,

            Mokely’s fine, but in St. Mungo’s. Come to my room at your earliest convenience. You’ll want to see this.

            Ginny

With a tap from her wand, it folded itself into an airplane and darted off.

“I don’t think this is actually Hermione,” Draco softly answered Warrington’s question. “But we’re about to find out. Rennervate!”

Daphne and Warrington gathered closely behind Ginny and Draco around the bound Hermione. Her eyes flew open. Shocked, she struggled against her bonds. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “Untie me this instant! Ginny!” she cried, noticing her friend. “Why am I here? Did something go wrong?”

“That sounds scarily like Hermione,” Daphne whispered.

Ginny, however, didn’t flinch. Instead, her gaze bored into the person bound on the floor beneath her. “Where’s your wand, Hermione?”

“My wand?” Hermione frowned in puzzlement. Then her face cleared. “Oh yes, I had to lend it, so they could track down the others.”

Ginny remained unmoved at the shoddy answer, arms crossed across her chest. “What's it made of?”

“What?” Hermione frowned again.

“Your wand,” Ginny insisted.

“They’re made of wood, kind of stick shaped,” Draco added unhelpfully. “You may have seen one before.”

Hermione paled, sitting bound on the floor. “Oh Merlin, I can’t remember. Have I been Obliviated?”

Ginny crouched down to her level, not the slightest bit of friendliness in the gesture. “What’s my favorite Quidditch team?”

“Holyhead Harpies,” Hermione replied quickly. “Good, not everything’s gone…”

“Who have you dated?”

“Viktor Krum and Fred Weasley,” she replied again.

Ginny’s voice turned deadly. “And Cormac McLaggen?”

Hermione laughed awkwardly, “I don’t count him, really. You should know that.”

“Harry’s owl? What was it named?”

“Ginny, this is ridiculous!” Hermione protested. “I’ve known you for practically my whole life, will you let me off the ground now?”

“No.” Steel laced her friend’s voice. “Not until you answer my questions.”

“I...I don’t…” Hermione stuttered. Then protested, “How would I remember that?!”

Ginny shrugged far too casually. “No reason, you only knew her for seven years. What’s--”

“What’s the worst thing I ever did to you?” Draco softly interjected.

Hermione turned to look at him. “Many things, really, there were all the times you called me a Mudblood, and--”

“That term never bothered me all that much.”

All heads turned to see Hermione Granger standing in the doorway, vine-patterned wand out and tapping against her arm in a threatening manner. Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the duplicate bound on the floor. “Really, she could have picked any other answer, and you might have fallen for it.” She held Ginny’s airplane in the other hand. “Everything’s under as much control as possible now. And yes, you were right, I do want to see this.”

The bound -- whatever it was -- on the floor instantly started squirming. “No! There’s been some mistake! There’s--”

Hermione crouched down next to Ginny. It must have been weird speaking to herself, but her voice didn’t waver. “You are already documented impersonating a high-level Ministry official. As Aurors, we are authorized to use Unforgivables on you. Now, you can start telling me everything I want to know so we can start reducing your sentence, or we can play the hard way, where no one has fun.”

The bound girl shook her head vigorously.

Warrington pointed a finger back and forth between the two Hermiones. “How do we know which is--”

“Harry’s owl was named Hedwig, it was killed in the Battle of the Seven Potters, and he didn’t get another one. The worst thing Malfoy ever did was mock Hagrid for Buckbeak’s death. I didn’t hear any of the other questions, but I’ll answer whatever you like.”

“Hagrid?!” Draco exclaimed with disdain. “Oh come on, I had to have done worse than that!”

“Not to me,” Hermione replied firmly. “If you’d asked about Harry my list would’ve been quite a bit longer.”

“I would have moved on to harder questions,” Ginny supplied. “But I wanted to know how closely she, it, whatever’s studied you.”

“Try me, I can answer!” Tears leaked out the girl thing’s eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on, everything’s ridiculous!”

But the unbound Hermione turned to her instead. “What was my boggart?”

“Failing all your classes!” she replied in a rush.

“Why?” Hermione pressed, eyes narrowing further.

“Because you’re afraid of failing!”

Hermione dug her wandtip into the girl’s throat. “Because they’d kick me out of Hogwarts and snap my wand and I'd never get magic again. Get it right.”

“She said ‘you’re afraid of failing’. Not ‘I’m afraid of failing’,” Draco noted.

"My wand!" the bound girl cried desperately. "She has my wand! She must have stolen it and Obliviated me!"

Anger rose in Hermione. Ginny and Draco cowered back. "Who else have I Obliviated?"

"I...back during the war--"

"Not when, WHO?"

The girl cried harder, disturbing for looking exactly like the girl questioning it. "I don't remember! That must've been taken from me too!"

"My parents," Hermione gritted out. Her face contorted with anger only inches away from the crying, identical face. "And I have every memory of them stored in a Pensieve, so no one could ever make me forget. What are their names?"

The bound thing's crying slowed. An eerie smile stole across its face. "Haven't the faintest idea. What are you going to do to me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione leaned back on her heels to get away from the unnerving creature. "Depends on how fast you start talking. I have Aurors missing, and--"

It chuckled happily. "Oh yes. Some Portkeyed to trunks in the bottom of the ocean. I do hope you're fast enough."

"We got those," Hermione's eyes turned deadly hard. "Where are the others?"

"Others?" the bound Hermione grinned. "You'll have to be more specific."

"The Aurors that the Patronuses can't find," the Head of the DMLE bit out. "Where are they?"

"And here I thought you were clever," the thing said triumphantly. "Let's solve a riddle, oh clever one. What's the only thing a person can be where a Patronus can't find them?"

"They're not dead," Hermione growled. "You can't kill a person with a Portkey."

"Oh, you can't? I happen to believe I just did."

"How?" Ginny jumped in. "What'd you do--send them into a volcano?"

It giggled. "You'll see."

Hermione stood, brushing dust off her robes. "That's it, I'm--"

"Veritaserum now, isn't it?" And with a sad look, the creature bit into its own shoulder. The uniform tore.

"Poison!" Ginny yelled, lunging for the creature's mouth, prying it open.

Foam dribbled out the fake Hermione's mouth as her eyes rolled up into their sockets.

Hermione shoved Ginny aside, grabbing the thing and Disapparating with a crack.

"What did she just..." Daphne stared wide eyed.

"Apparated her to St. Mungo's," Ginny said from the floor. "They're getting a lot of work from us today."

Warrington scrunched his face. "Won't that be a bit odd? Hermione bringing herself in, foaming like a dog?"

"I bet they've seen weirder." Ginny couldn't muster the effort to care. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. "I really wouldn't tempt fate like that."

Ginny nodded. "Fate can do whatever it wants. I just want a nice soft bed. And to sleep for ages and ages."

He smirked at her. "I hope by 'bed', you meant 'couch at Granger's'."

Her face fell. She'd forgotten. "Oh, right."

Daphne pointedly cleared her throat. "I could have sworn someone you know offered you a house to stay in. Just a niggling suspicion."

Draco grinned. "Are you well enough, Ginny?"

Pain flared across her side with perfect timing. "Of course," she responded easily. "And I think Hermione's got a bit too much on her plate right now to deal with our sorry homeless selves as house guests."

"Can I come too?" Warrington asked, trying to hide his eagerness.

Daphne sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, you can come too."

He punched the air in excitement.

"So we have a live-in Auror squad after all," Draco groaned. "At least it's not in my house."

But Ginny snorted. "It’s not a full squad unless my brother's coming as well."

Daphne instantly looked like she'd bitten into something rotten. "Four fifths of an Auror team is fine with me."

The Greengrass home stretched large and elegant. If not so large or elegant as the Malfoys', it still impressed. Dark woods paneled the hallways, and when Daphne directed Ginny to a guest bedroom, the canopied four poster bed made her fall in love. Thanking the Slytherin girl profusely, she crashed happily on top of it. Auror robes still on, she didn’t even bother getting under the covers.

A knock sounded at her open door. Unwillingly, Ginny opened her eyes a crack, not bothering to roll off her face. "Whaddya wan?" she muttered into her pillow.

Draco chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "Just letting you know I'm next door, if you need anything."

She nodded wearily and dropped off to sleep.

Silver light shone brightly in Ginny's eyes the next morning. She cracked an eye groggily. A bit of sunlight streamed through the not-quite-closed curtains, lighting the neat, precise, elegance of Ginny's bedroom. But that wasn't silver, so what was--

A silver sparrow, no bigger than Ginny's palm fluttered around her head, its glow cast across the room.

"A Patronus?" Ginny gasped.

Daphne's voice issued forth smugly from the sparrow Patronus. "Is this small enough for you, oh Lieutenant? Also, breakfast's ready."

Awed, Ginny followed the Patronus down the stairs. Belatedly, she realized she looked a wreck, still in the clothes she'd slept in. Casting freshening and cleaning charms was the best she could do at this point, and she entered the dining room behind the sparrow.

"A show off, isn't she?" Draco scowled over his eggs. A repressed smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I doubt she'll ever bother with owls again."

A great window stretched behind the table, framing a perfect view of wildflower-dusted hills. Ginny hadn't the faintest idea if it was enchanted, or actually where the gorgeous home resided. Knowing Slytherins, she'd guess the latter.

The silver sparrow fluttered over to Daphne, who cooed happily at it. "Who's the good Patronus that's going to rescue Blaise? That's right, you are!"

Ginny slid into the seat next to Draco, food appearing the moment she sat. Eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, toast, a steaming cup of tea, jams and jellies of every kind... She dug in happily.

"So you can too?" Warrington gestured at Draco around a mouthful of biscuit. "A Patronus, I mean."

Draco nodded.

"Great, now I'm the only one who can't," Warrington glowered at his plate. Remembering, he handed Ginny the daily paper. "Draco was right."

"What?" she took it in confusion.

"You shouldn't have tempted Fate," Draco said sagely.

The bold headline across the top declared: "Hermione Weasley, Head of the DMLE, Escorts HERMIONE to St Mungo's: BOTH Under Arrest"

"What?" she whispered with deadly calm.

"Turns out they just sensationalized it," Draco added, casually stabbing a sausage. "Hermione holed up in a debriefing room with Shacklebolt and Potter for hours. No one was actually arrested."

“Good.” If anyone dared arrest Hermione, Ginny would tear them apart with her bare hands.

Draco noticed her fervent devotion to pouring through the article. “The article’s mostly guesswork. At one point, the reporter even admits to being locked out and peering in through a window.”

“Well, it’s all I’ve got right now, isn’t it?” Ginny didn’t bother to lift her eyes from the page.

Daphne chuckled. “Right, because Hermione’s definitely not meeting with us the moment we walk through the door. She’d never do something as clever as that.”

Ginny lowered the paper, peering over the top. “She’s what?”

Draco shrugged, a smirk twitching at his lips. “Soon as we’re done with breakfast.”

Ginny tossed the paper aside, shoveling food in her face as quickly as she dared in public.

Daphne and Warrington peered wonderingly at the War Room. Even though it was large enough to easily hold five squads around the edges, it was the table in the middle that was the important piece. Wars had been planned and launched here, history made, and lives sacrificed.

Daphne wrinkled her nose at it. “After all the stories, I thought it would look more impressive.”

Hermione frowned from her seat across the table, Ron and Harry flanking her.

Warrington dropped easily into a seat, already slouching. “I feel like a proper Auror.”

Shrugging, Harry replied, “Technically, you are now. Only senior squads get to come in here.”

A bomb could have dropped in the silence, and none of the Slytherins would have noticed. Warrington whistled appreciatively.

“Consider it a battlefield promotion,” Ron growled.

But Hermione shook her head. “No, Ron, they’ve earned it. Harry and I both agreed. Junior squads don’t ever see real action, and Slytherin Squad has performed well under fire every time. Well, since the traitors, that is.”

Ginny and Draco took seats across from Hermione and Harry. Ginny couldn’t help adding, “But even against the traitors, the ones that fought did well.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Draco, of all people, cut him off. “Don’t push it, Ginny,” he drawled. “Astoria deserted, remember? And I’ll bet their allotted stock of Slytherin Compliments is running low about now.”

Both sides of the table chuckled.

Reluctantly, Ginny nodded. “But we’ve been skirting the line between a senior and a junior squad for a while now. You and Blaise have the record for a senior squad, and Ron and I were on senior squads nearly straight out of Training.” At Draco’s confused frown, she blushed. “Yes, I read your files from before Slytherin Squad. Quite complimentary, by the end.”

Ron snorted. “Polite way of saying they hated your guts originally.”

“Yes, Ron,” Harry chuckled. “No one expected anything else, or I wouldn’t have let him in.”

Daphne looked like a little bug that had been casually squished. “So Warrington and I’ve been the ones holding the squad back?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, not at all. It was Malfoy, actually.” At his murderous look, she laughed. “Not like that! He might have the record to be on a senior squad, but not to lead one!”

“Ginny does,” Harry pointed out with a smirk. “So watch your step, Malfoy, or we’ll flip those ranks in a heartbeat.”

Draco’s face twitched between murderous and vaguely amused, not sure which to settle on.

Ginny laughed, elbowing him. “Don’t worry, being second-in-command suits me just fine. Leadership makes me break out in hives.”

“Break out in Slytherins, more like,” Harry corrected.

Ron shuddered. “Ugh, we don’t need more of those.”

Even the Slytherins laughed, assuming Ron was joking. Draco knew he wasn’t, but grinned anyway.

“Alright, down to business now,” Hermione said. Around the table, faces sobered. Even Warrington tried. “The poison the imposter took wasn’t for suicide.”

Ginny’s eyes went wide. “What then?”

Hermione’s face twisted in a scowl. “Disfiguring. She's covered head to toe in boils now, so we haven’t the faintest idea who she was before. And to top it all off, she's in a coma.”

“Healers couldn’t stop it in time?” Draco asked.

Hermione shook her head. “Fast-acting. The whole thing was ridiculously well-planned. Healers are working on a cure as we speak, but it was a whole cocktail of different poisons, so it could be a while.”

Casually, Daphne asked, "Do you think she could have been the mole?"

Silence dropped like a bomb around the table.

Frantically, Hermione started flipping through papers, comparing notes on the different information leaks. Soon, her whole neat stack was spread across the table in front of her as she referenced and cross-referenced events.

Harry snorted. “You know what, Daphne? I think she just might have been the mole.”

“So if the mole isn’t on your senior squads, does this mean we’re out of a job?” Warrington asked.

“Might,” Hermione replied, barely looking up. “I’m not about to risk everything on the chance that the imposter wasn’t the mole. I’m still looking into her motivations, but I’ll keep that in mind.” With an obvious force of will, she folded her hands atop the papers, putting them aside for later. The action seemed to cause her pain.

“Ron and I were able to fight off the Death Eater ambush on Tonks’s squad,” Harry said. “They took injuries, but nothing serious. The moment the Aurors started winning though, the Death Eaters Disapparated. So we’re no worse off for it, but no better either.”

“So when do I get to send my Patronus to Blaise?” Daphne cut in eagerly.

“Not yet,” Hermione held a finger up to the girl. “Three of Williamson’s squad are still missing. We have all the other squads out searching, but nothing so far.”

“If Patronuses can’t find them…” Ginny trailed off, suspecting the worst.

Harry grimaced in Hermione’s direction. “She’s still holding out hope.”

“The imposter phrased it oddly!” Hermione insisted. “She didn’t say she dropped them into a volcano, she said ‘You’ll see’! I can’t be the only one to find that suspicious!”

“You’ve done corpse detection charms?” Draco asked.

Harry sighed. “We’ve done everything we can think of. Those have a short range, though, so just because everywhere we’ve tried came up false doesn’t mean much.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it stick up at all angles. “The real worry are the Patronuses. They’ve always been a failsafe method of finding anyone, but…”

“I’ll show you,” Ron volunteered, whipping out his wand. He summoned his Patronus, who patiently wagged his silvery tail. “Go find Albus Dumbledore and tell him--” He stopped as the Patronus sadly shook his doggy head. “Exactly like it always does when someone's dead,” Ron commented to the group. “Now, go find Auror Knoppish, and tell him to report in.” The dog trotted off happily through the walls.

“It takes a while to come back,” Hermione informed Slytherin Squad, “so we’re assuming they’re still far away. But more than that we don’t know, because when it does come back, it’s unhelpful.”

Daphne crinkled her forehead. “What do you mean?”

Hermione sighed. “Give it a minute, you’ll see.”

They sat in silence until the dog came trotting back through the walls. It simply walked up to Ron and shook its head.

“We’ve questioned it till we’re blue in the face,” Hermione continued. “But it’s the same every time. It won’t answer a single question when it gets back, but it clearly goes somewhere before coming back.”

“Which Hermione takes to mean they’re still alive,” Harry clarified.

Hermione steamed, clearly a sore subject. “Yes, Harry, if they’re answering differently than they do when someone’s dead, then I’m only logical for assuming they’re still alive!”

Harry turned to Daphne, tight smile in place as he ignored Hermione. “Whenever you’re ready, Greengrass.”

Daphne stood, her wand shaking as she drew it. “Expecto Patronum!” The silver sparrow burst forth, fluttering around the room.

Harry whistled appreciatively. “That is smaller than small. I might put you in charge of all hostages.”

Daphne didn’t even hear his offer. “Is there anything specific I need to say?” Her voice wavered, much as she tried to hide it.

Hermione shook her head. “You know him best. You have clearance to do whatever you think will work. His reply might be forced, it’s the only way to get around the Patronus. So watch for that, when--”

“Or if,” Harry added softly.

“--it comes.” Hermione shot him a dirty look. “It’s up to you, Auror Greengrass.”

Daphne gave a firm nod. She turned to her sparrow. “Fly to Blaise, Blaise Zabini, and if you can't get to him, yell ‘BLAISE, BLAISE, BLAISE’ as loud as you can. Keep going until you know he’s heard you. If he has a message of any kind, bring it back.”

The sparrow nodded, flying off.

Harry grinned at the nervous Slytherin girl. “Clever idea, that. I’m definitely thinking of making you official."

Daphne tried to manage a smile, but failed.

“It flew off,” Ginny reassured her. “If Hermione’s right, which she usually is, he’s not dead. We’ll find him.”

Daphne nodded briskly, not in the mood for reassurances.

No one dared speak again. Daphne remained standing, too nervous to sit or even put her wand away. Warrington started drumming on his armrest, but a sharp look from Ginny silenced him. Draco sat still as a stone, incapable of focusing on anything else for even a second. Minutes ticked by.

The sparrow Patronus flew back in. No one dared breathe. It flew to Daphne, shaking its head. Daphne’s hands flew to her mouth, tears leaking from her eyes. But, so softly that at first they all thought they’d imagined it, the Patronus added, “Shhhh.”

Her tears turned into tears of joy. “He’s alive! He’s not dead, he can speak!”

“Ask your Patronus if it knows where he is,” Hermione commanded. “It might have been able…”

She trailed off as a fireplace lit green. Everyone’s attention turned to the head of the crisp secretary showing in the flames. “Hermione?” she called out.

Hermione ran to it, dropping to her knees. “Go ahead, Clara.”

“An unsecured location is attempting to Floo Slytherin Squad. Should I send the call through to them?”

Warily, Hermione stood. She tossed a glance at Harry over her shoulder. At his nod, she turned back to the fire. “No, redirect it here. I’ll take it.”

The secretary nodded. “Very well, ma'am.” Her head disappeared.

“Wands out,” Harry and Draco said together. Both looked away, pretending they hadn’t. The command was wasted, though, as all around the table the Aurors stood as tensely as coiled springs, wands clenched tightly in their hands.

A curly blond head popped into the fire, looking around nervously. Draco sprinted for the Floo before Nott Jr. could change his mind. “Theo! What’s going on?”

Theodore Nott Jr. held a finger to his lips. In the softest whisper he could manage, he replied, “They might have heard your Patronus. I’m not sure, but they’ll definitely notice the Dementors stirring.”

“Dementors?” Draco whispered fiercely. He dropped to his knees, bringing his head as close as possible. The other Aurors gathered around behind him. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t have much time.” Theo glanced furtively over his shoulder. “They didn’t think to watch me, and I thought maybe you could help?”

“Tell me everything you can.”

The words spilled out as fast as Theo could manage them. “Blaise, Goyle, and the Aurors are held in the basement. We’re in Jugson’s home in Switzerland, but they’re about to move somewhere else, I don’t know where. I’m not sure how much they’ve been able to torture out of the Aurors, but they’ve been trying.” Hermione sucked in a breath at this, but Theo plunged on. “The wards let me call out just fine, so they might let you step through, I’m not sure…”

“It’s worth a shot,” Harry replied firmly. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Theo looked taken aback. “Oh, uh, now? That would be best.”

Hermione tossed powder into a second fireplace. “Fred Weasley!” Her husband’s head appeared in the flames. “If we’re not back in an hour, call Kingsley. Tell him we’re at Jugson’s house in Switzerland.” Fred nodded, and Hermione cut the connection.

She turned to her Aurors. “Let’s go.”

Draco jumped into the flames, everyone else following close on his heels.

The biting cold hit the moment Draco set foot on the other side of the Floo.

The curtains hung askew on the window of the sitting room they stepped into. The couch faded to nearly gray, with a few boards in the walls hanging loose. Once, the Jugsons’ mountain retreat had been worthy of the Pureblood line that held it, but that had been many generations ago.

The light fog carpeting the floor of the room concerned Draco the most. “How many Dementors have you got here?” he whispered to the shaking Theo.

Theo gulped. “Loads.”

Hermione, Ron, and Harry jumped through the fireplace in a well-practiced cluster, wands at the ready and scanning for enemies. Harry turned to the group. “Patronuses out--”

“No, don’t!” Theo cut in with a frantic whisper. All eyes turned to him. “The Dementors feel it. My dad and...and the others will come running the moment the Dementors move.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “All the Death Eaters are here?”

Theo shook his head. “Only a few right now, but--”

“How many?” Harry insisted.

“About five here now,” Theo replied. “Nearly twenty total.”

Hermione stepped forward. “Our first priority is rescuing the prisoners. If we have to fight, we will. If we get the chance to maim, kill, or capture any Death Eaters without endangering the prisoners, we will.”

Theo nodded shakily. “Of--of course. You want me to lead the way?”

Harry nodded. “Lead on.”

Theo pushed open the flaking wooden door, turning the herd of Aurors into a huge, wide hallway. Windows high in the wall let faint bits of light pattern across the procession. Floorboards creaked as they crept over them. Thin mist still covered the ground of the exceedingly wide hall.

“I think they can detect magic,” Theo whispered back at the following Aurors. “So don’t cast anything unless you have to?” His voice trailed upwards at the end, uncertain if he could give commands. Hermione nodded, and he turned back around, focusing on picking out good boards through the light mist.

Ron and Hermione followed on Theo’s heels, Daphne and Warrington in the middle, with Draco and Ginny guarding the rear. Harry hung back to walk next to Draco. “Can we trust Theo?” he whispered, looking casually up at a corner of the hallway.

Draco’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “Don’t know,” he whispered. “He let us in, so I think he’s helping, but don’t turn your back.”

Harry gave a brief nod. “If there’s a problem, we can summon help, but we can’t risk leaving a message with a potential second Mole.” He then jogged to rejoin Ron and Hermione.

Ginny, close enough to hear, shot Draco a searching look. With a grim smile, he whispered, “It’s better than nothing.”

She nodded, continuing her vigilance behind him. “How’d a Death Eater home get to be this run down? I thought you guys were steeped in galleons.”

“Not all of us,” he replied softly. As much as he hated being included, it was true. “Quite a few are just purebloods. And if they need decay to keep the Dementors happy, there isn’t a better family than the Jugsons.”

At the side of the hall, Theo opened a small rotting door, creaking ominously. “They’re down here. Careful, it’s dark.”

Harry took one look down the dark stairway, then turned back to the Aurors, staring straight at Draco. “Perfect place for an ambush. Be on your guard.”

Theo led the way, wand shaking in his hand.

Single file, they followed him down the pitch black stairs. Steps rotted away beneath them, making the going treacherous. Warrington’s foot punched through a step as he muffled swears. Daphne helped lever him out, and they kept going.

The air felt colder now, Draco’s breath making warm puffs against his cheeks. Even through the cold, the stench of rotting flesh drifted up towards him. He couldn’t imagine how long something would have to be dead to smell that putrid.

Theo’s breathy whisper carried like a gong in the silence. “We’re here.”

Carefully, they crept forward out the end of the stairway. Draco could faintly see a room at the bottom, a sliver of light casting in through a poorly covered window. Theo stood at the front of the Auror group, nerves racking his body. Not for a second did anyone think him a coward. Before him glided Dementor upon Dementor, gathering around him in black waves. Easily a hundred of the black cloaked horrors drifted through the rotting dungeon. The room must have been large, but not even the walls were visible through the horde of creatures.

“Here--to see--the prisoners,” he managed through rattling teeth. A Dementor bent his head close to Theo. Leaning back, it sucked a happy memory as the boy whimpered. The Dementor drifted back, hunger satisfied. The others parted.

Draco’s knuckles clenched around his wand. Ginny was last in the Auror line, most likely for the Dementors to grow impatient and feed on. Could he still cast a Patronus, when his insides felt so dead? Would a simple Patronus even scare off so many?

Ginny gripped his shoulder from behind. Instantly, his tension lessened. Covering her hand with his own, he whispered, “Go in front of me.”

Her grip tightened. “What? Why?”

A smile surfaced at her insubordination. “Trust me, Lieutenant.”

He flattened himself against the wall so that Ginny could pass in front. As she did, he casually rolled up his left sleeve. It might not help at all, but at the very worst, it was a good reason to keep Ginny safer.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron followed Theo through the Dementors. Daphne and Warrington trailed only a step behind, rightly terrified. The Dementors let the line of Aurors pass through a gap in the middle, but their heads turned to follow the procession. Not for one second did Draco find that reassuring. His turn came. Cautiously, he stepped amongst the Dementors, following as close to Ginny as he dared. His skin crawled as the Dementors’ eyeless gaze tracked him. Silently, they closed ranks after he passed through. No fear, show no fear, Draco chanted endlessly in his head. In darker days, his father had drilled that into him for a reason. Despite the chant, every step he took through the cold despair of the dungeon felt like his last.

After what seemed like ages, they reached a crumbling door in the back wall of the dungeon.  Theo pushed it open, pieces falling away at his touch. There might have been other rooms, but no one could see past the sea of Dementors on either side.

The first Aurors filed inside, Dementors shifting restlessly behind them. Still back among the drifting black cloaks, Draco and Ginny hurried towards the room. The eyeless gazes burned the hair on the back of Draco’s neck. Trying to appear casual, he lifted his forearm, massaging the Dark Mark with his other hand. They might have cowered away. He didn’t look behind him to check as he rushed after Ginny into the room. They shut the door behind him, for all the good it would do.

It was a simple stone walled room, but lumps huddled into the different corners. Daphne ran forward. “Blaise!” she cried, shaking one of the lumps.

His friend turned over, brightening instantly at Daphne’s face. Blaise looked pale, drawn, and covered in dirt, but no injuries that Draco could see. “Your Patronus was beautiful,” Blaise whispered. Daphne couldn’t wait any longer, and crushed him in a kiss.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran for the other lumps. Hermione woke one. Face bloodied, one eye swollen, Draco had no idea how she could recognize the man. “Auror Knoppish?” she whispered. Blearily, he managed a small, drunken nod.

Goyle sat up. “You guys came!”

He too, looked unharmed, and the fist of tension inside Draco’s chest unclenched all the way. Dementors were nothing compared to having his friends, his teammates back. “Of course we did,” Draco whispered, emotion making his voice hoarse. “Now we just need to get you out of here.”

Hermione looked up at Theo from wrapping gauze on Knoppish’s arm. “An Apparition ward is up, so there’s no getting out that way. At least, not without minutes for me to take it down. Any good options?”

Theo shook his head. “I was surprised the Floo worked, even. I’d suggest a window, but I think they’re spelled shut too. Oh!” he pulled wands out of his pocket, handing them to Goyle and Blaise, who was finally through kissing Daphne. “This’ll help. They snapped the other Aurors’ wands, or else I’d have them too.”

“They’re in no condition to fight,” Harry whispered, tending another of the three. “They need Healing, and fast. I don’t think the Death Eaters cared if their prisoners survived the torturing.”

“Blaise, Goyle,” Draco called, feeling Captaincy steal over him. As much as Harry and Hermione were in charge, this was his team, and no one knew them better. “Can you stand?”

Both lurched to their feet, Blaise leaning against the wall for support. Daphne offered him an arm, but he gently pushed it away. “We felt loads better when the Patronus came by. I think if someone could manage that, we’d be nearly right as rain.”

“We wait as long as possible,” Hermione whispered. “They can sense spellwork.”

“Right then, Blaise, Goyle, Daphne, you three are in charge of the injured Aurors.” Harry and Hermione looked at Draco, but as no one protested, he continued. “The moment you get the chance to get them out, you take it. No matter what it is. Daphne, when we cast Patronuses, make sure yours stays close to Blaise. He might have a shot at breaking the wards if he can think straight.”

He shouldn’t have wasted his breath. The stubborn determination gleaming from her eyes told Draco she’d do whatever it took to get Blaise out of there in one piece.

Hermione nodded with finality. “Good, that leaves the rest of us free to protect you. So when Harry--”

Draco had forgotten that he stood closest to the door.

It only took a second for the dark cloak to sweep over him, looking into the dead face with gaping mouth. In the darkness, no one noticed. Rotting hands gripped Draco's shoulder as it leaned closer. This close, he could sense its hunger. It breathed in--

And something hard slammed Draco into the wall.

It took him a moment to shake off the disorientation. When he looked back, he froze. Ginny, beautiful, wonderful Ginny stood where he had been. The Dementor inhaled a memory through her silent scream.

Draco poured all his anger and love into the spell. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Silver mist shot forth, coalescing into wings. It swooped in a low arc, charging the Dementor with claws flashing. The Dementor fled. The silvery griffin looked proudly over its shoulder at Draco, awaiting orders.

Ginny slumped. Draco caught her against him. All around them, Patronuses burst into life. His griffin guarded the door, daring any others to cross it. “Hey,” Draco said softly to the girl leaning against him. Her skin glowed ghostly in the silver light. “There’s a spell for that, you know.”

Ginny managed a weak smile. “Didn’t have enough time. I’ll be alright, I’ve had worse.”

He frowned. “And I haven’t?”

She just shrugged. “Not if I could stop it.”

“If Ginny’s ok,” Harry cut in, “we need to get moving.”

Ginny gave a sharp nod, stepping away from Draco. “I’m fine. Let’s move.”

Blaise and Goyle, looking much better around the Patronuses, cast Hovering Charms on two of the Aurors, Daphne Hovering the third. Outside the door had turned into a solid mass of Dementors, clawing for entrance. The Golden Trio pushed forward with their three united Patronuses. The Dementors broke upon them like a wave. Their Patronuses plowed back the sweeping black cloaks as they cleared a path from the door. Daphne’s sparrow stayed close as she, Blaise, and Goyle followed in their wake with the Aurors. Theo and Warrington hurried after, casting furtive glances at the Dementors. Lacking a Patronus’ protection made them all the more nervous. Already, the Dementors drifted closer together, seeking to close the gap. Draco’s griffin surged forward, keeping the way clear as Draco and Ginny ran next to it. The Dementors’ rasping breaths left ice on Ginny and Draco’s cheeks as they passed. Ginny shivered.

The Aurors hurried up the stairs, the narrow walls comfortingly close on either side. Draco’s griffin blocked the path behind them. The rotting corpse-hands reached around it as far as they dared.

Ginny gripped her wand tightly as they jogged up the stairs. “Expecto Patronum.” Nothing happened. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Expecto Patronum.” Still nothing.

Draco reached forward, grabbing her free hand. She laced her fingers through his. “Expecto Patronum!” Her horse leaped forward, galloping around to guard next to his griffin. With a grin at him over her shoulder, she released his hand.

"STUPEFY!" The red bolt missed its intended target, ricocheting down from the top of the stairway. It streaked an inch away from Draco's ear.

The yells of more spells filled the air. Ginny and Draco clambered up the final steps as quickly as they could.

Over a dozen Death Eaters waited down at the far end of the long hall. Dementors glided loosely among them, and Draco lost count of how many. With the hallway dark and fog drifting, it felt like dozens.

The door to the Floo on the side of the hall still stood unguarded. The Death Eaters must not have realized how the Aurors got in.

Farthest ahead, Harry, Ron, and Hermione fought only fifteen feet from the sitting room where the Floo waited. Even with the Floo unprotected, the enemy fire was too thick to run without exposing themselves. The Trio launched spell after vicious spell, even with Ron dripping blood from his arm.

Next to the Golden Trio, Blaise, Daphne, and Warrington fought well, protecting the three incapacitated Aurors, but--

On Draco’s other side, farthest from the Floo, all Theo could handle was keeping up a shield as one Death Eater, masked beyond recognition, hammered spell after spell into it.

"Crucio!" Draco yelled.

The man dropped, writhing in pain. "My son!" he screamed. "My filthy, traitor, Muggle-loving--!"

"Stupefy!" Ginny screamed, and it silenced him.

Theo looked at them over his shaking wand. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Ginny replied quickly, turning back to the battle.

Safely hidden behind Blaise and Daphne, Goyle looked terrified beyond human capacity. His wand uttered feeble sparks, bouncing harmlessly off the Death Eaters’ shields.

Draco fired off more spells. Over his shoulder, he asked Theo, "Is the Floo blocked yet?"

Before Theo could answer, Blaise replied from the other side, "Not yet! Strong Anti-Apparition though, you want me to take it down?"

Merlin, it felt good to have him back. "How long?"

Blaise shrugged, firing off a curse. "Three, maybe four minutes."

"Too long!" Draco shot a nasty hex at a Death Eater, who dodged. "Floo's up, fight towards that!"

Blaise nodded, determination steeling his face.

Ginny danced among the spells, feeling more at home than she had in a long time. This. This was what she’d missed as an instructor. Spells whizzing inches away from her ears energized her. Knowing her skill protected her teammates brought a grin to her face. Seeing Death Eaters cower back from her attacks turned her grin feral.

“Come and get it, mangy dogs!” she cackled. Draco shot her an odd look, but she didn’t care. Her Bat-Bogey Hex hit a Death Eater square in the face. His mask flew off as he thrashed wildly to dodge the bats, disrupting his comrades.

It completely exposed the Death Eater next to him. “Confundus!” she cast fiercely. It hit. The Death Eater spun wildly, firing curses in all directions. Two Death Eaters fell at his wand before they stunned him.

Ginny grinned viciously. “Redu--”

A Death Eater turned his wand on her. “Avada Kedavra!”

She twisted desperately. The green bolt screamed by, slamming into the stone behind her.

Pain dropped Ginny to her knees. The spell hadn’t hit or she’d be dead. She clutched at the wrenching agony in her side. Her hand came away covered in blood. Ginny swore violently. Pulling a stunt like that with an unhealed side--

He fired again. “Avada Kedavra!”

As she rolled, something tore. The curse smashed into the floor above her head. She threw up a shield, but it would be less than tissue paper to the Killing Curse. What else could she do? When his next spell fired she would be a sitting duck.

Draco stepped in front of her. “Avada Kedavra!” His eyes screamed murderous rage as the green bolt blasted from his wand. It caught the Death Eater straight in the chest. He crumpled, the other Death Eaters watching in shock.

More than half of the Death Eaters turned toward Draco. Knowing that was anything but good, Ginny pushed herself to her knees. Blood dripping from her side, she cast a quick healing spell. It burned, and she knew it wouldn’t hold, but it was the best she could manage. Draco needed her.

Daphne and Blaise stepped up to Draco’s side. Hexes poured from the Death Eaters, furious at the Blood-Traitor who’d killed one of them.

“Protego Maxima!” Blaise yelled. Most of the spells bounced off his enormous shield as Daphne deflected those that didn’t.

Draco looked at the pair in awe.

“We’ve got your back, Captain,” Daphne said solemnly, throwing up another shield. “Don’t think you have to do this alone.” She cast a withering glare down at Ginny, still struggling to her feet. “And if you even think of fighting, I’ll hex you myself.”

With a wry grin, Ginny cast a shield on Daphne. “You’d better fight, then.”

With a nod, Daphne turned back to the battle, spells flying from her wand. Draco guarded Daphne's back, just as furiously fighting, although without further Killing Spells.

Maintaining a shield was more effort than Ginny let on. She’d manage it, though, or die trying. Although there were gaps in the ranks, the Death Eaters still outnumbered the Aurors. Dementors waited at their sides, held back only by Harry, Ron and Hermione’s Patronuses. Their three silver Patronuses danced among the Dementors, the only Aurors skilled enough to maintain one while still fighting.

Dementors, Ginny realized with horror. The stairway at their backs was colder now, as Draco's and her Patronus had surely disappeared. “Expecto Patronum!” she cried. Springing from her wand, Ginny’s horse looked paler than usual, but galloped to the top of the stairway. Not a moment later, bony fingers reached around it, clutching and shoving. It reared its head and pushed back, but the Dementors pressed onwards, shoving it closer towards the unsuspecting Aurors.

“Get out!” Ginny roared. “NOW!”

Harry turned and saw, others following suit. Too slow, Ginny realized. The Death Eaters saw their opening, and fired hexes mercilessly towards the surprised Aurors. Draco turned to look at Ginny. A sickly yellow bolt burned towards him. Slamming into his shoulder, it blasted him off his feet. He crumpled against the wall by the stairs.

“Draco!” Ginny cried. Focus, she forced herself. How could she still help…? “Protego!” she cast on his crumpled body. Not a moment too soon. Another spell rebounded off her shield, slamming back at the Death Eater.

“Theo!” she yelled. He looked up, startled. With Draco down and the Golden Trio embroiled in a bloodier and bloodier battle, the Lieutenant didn’t hesitate taking charge. “Grab Draco and run!”

She tried not to watch as Draco’s body floated limply under Theo’s wand. The Dementors could nearly touch Draco, back against the wall, and Theo levitated him away in horror.

“Reducto!” Warrington shot at the ceiling. The supports for the old building exploded. Beams crashed down among the Death Eaters. Very few smashed close to the Aurors; he’d aimed well.

Already, the Death Eaters realized the Aurors were fleeing. They ran through the falling debris, straight for the Aurors.

Blaise scooped an arm under Ginny’s shoulders, hoisting her to her feet. His injured Auror floated behind his wand at the other side. As one, the Auror team ran for the sitting room amidst the raining destruction. Ginny’s side screamed in pain with every step. His arm helped, but not enough.

Her Patronus held back all the Dementors it could. A dozen poured around the edges, streaming towards the running Aurors.

Nearly inside the sitting room, Hermione tripped on debris, sprawling. Harry ran back to grab her. A piece of roof fell, crashing into Harry’s head, knocking him to the ground. A spell whizzed by. Hermione pulled him up, and together they ran inside.

Looking back fearfully over his shoulder, Goyle cast a cloud of Sneezing Powder. Racked with sneezes, the Death Eaters’ spells misfired momentarily. It wasn’t much, but every bit helped.

Limping along as fast as she could, Blaise and Ginny were the last ones in. Curses exploded the door behind them.

“Jump, now!” Ron yelled. The house groaned as it collapsed, bigger and bigger chunks raining down. Theo tossed the powder in the fireplace. Dementors poured through the door as the Aurors jumped in.

The moment they tumbled out on the other side of the Floo, Hermione already had a fistful of Floo Powder, throwing it back into the grate. “Medics! War Room, Code Red!”

A dozen Healers Apparated in. Ginny ignored them. Detaching Blaise’s arm from around her, she hobbled toward Draco. Theo had laid their Captain on the floor. Now, a stern, gray-haired Healer stood over him casting spells, her face inscrutable.

“Is he ok?” Ginny gasped, collapsing on the ground by his side. Desperately, she clutched his wrist, feeling for a pulse. His skin seemed too pale under her fingers. Was that a pulse? She couldn’t tell. “IS HE ALIVE?” she demanded.

The Healer turned an annoyed look on the bloodied redhead. “He is far from well.” To cut off Ginny’s protests, she added, “BUT alive so far. More so, if you’d let me work.”

With a determined nod, Ginny kept her silence. She simply sat on the floor next to him, clutching his hand. She could feel the pulse now, and it was all that kept her sane. Draco’s face remained too still, his chest barely moving with his breathing.

Another Healer kept prodding Ginny, trying to tend to her side. She threatened to hex him and he left her alone after that. Ginny just watched Draco, willing him to be ok. Last time, it was a harmless Stupefy. This time, knowing the spell that hit him was far from harmless was so much worse. Around her, the rest of the team was being treated as well, but Ginny couldn’t spare them a second glance.

His Healer put a hand on Ginny’s shoulder. “I’m Apparating him to St. Mungo’s now,” she said kindly, now that Ginny wasn’t interfering. “He’s stable enough to travel, so I wouldn’t worry.” Looking down, she spotted Ginny’s side, covered in blood. The Healer’s kindliness vanished into a spot-on McGonagall impersonation, reprimanding scowl and all. “You’ve been sitting here bleeding this whole time?!”

Ginny blinked. “It’s not serious.”

The Healer let out a long-suffering groan of frustration. “You play Quidditch, don’t you? I’ve seen the type. Now get yourself to a Healer.”

“But I--”

“No,” the older woman cut her off firmly. “I will not let you in to see him--” she gestured fiercely down at Draco, “--while you are still gushing blood!”

Ginny scowled, but did as she was told. Well, tried to. When she pushed herself to her feet, her left side gave out, and she crumpled back down.

The Healer she’d threatened earlier raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’ll take healing now, please,” she managed through the pain.

With only a slight chuckle, he waved his wand at her side. The cool relief of healing flooded through her, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

The white walls of St. Mungo’s shocked Ginny awake. She threw back the covers of her hospital bed, surprised at her gown, and searched for shoes.

A soft laugh from the foot of her bed drew her attention. “You two are hilarious, you know.” Daphne perched in a chair at the end, an amused smile on her face. With her chestnut hair falling elegantly to her shoulders and not a fold out of place on her deep blue dress robes, Daphne stuck out instantly amid the glaring white of the hospital. “I mean,” the witch drawled, “our dear Captain nearly fell over himself half an hour ago asking where you were.”

“You cleaned up quickly,” Ginny growled, still hunting for shoes. If Draco was awake, nothing in the world could stop her from going to him.

Daphne’s smile drooped. “I didn’t, actually. We, that is, Blaise and I, just dropped in to make sure you were ok. They said you’d be waking up today.”

Today. The word rang through Ginny’s head. “How long have I been out?” she asked, careful to keep her voice casual.

Daphne saw right through her. “Just two days. You didn’t need it, really, the Healer just worried for his safety if you were awake.” Her eyes narrowed playfully. “And why would that be? Setting a good example, Lieutenant?”

“A flawless one,” Ginny growled. Who needed shoes anyway? She swung out of bed, landing on the cold floor in her bare feet. Her side only ached at the treatment, and Ginny relaxed. Putting a hand to it, she could feel bindings under her hospital robes.

Her wand lay on the bedside table and she grabbed it -- just in case.

Daphne raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know where he is?”

“I’ll find him,” she replied determinedly. Walking to the foot of her bed past the curtains, she could see beds all around the ward, but couldn’t tell--

“He’s two beds down that way.” Daphne pointed the direction opposite where Ginny had looked. Not foolish enough to get in her way, Daphne followed as Ginny hobbled the two beds over.

Draco's Healer walked away from his bed. She took one look at Ginny and scowled fiercely. Pointedly, her scowl took in Ginny's bare feet and hospital gown.

Ginny scowled right back at her. She jabbed a finger to point at her bandaged side. "Not bleeding!"

With a wry twist of her lips, the Healer let Ginny pass.

Draco was sitting up in bed, leaning back among pillows as he chatted with Blaise, in a chair next to the bed. Already, Draco looked healthier, the color back in his face, a smile coming easily to his lips. Finally noticing Ginny at the foot of his bed, he cut off mid-sentence to drink in the sight of her.

"Hey," Ginny grinned, not breaking eye contact. "You look better. How do you feel?"

Draco returned the grin. "I don't remember feeling worse, just woke up here."

"He thought he was well enough to hunt you down," Blaise tried to sound reprimanding, but fell short. "Looks like you weren't much wiser." Blaise still had hollows under his eyes, but his grin was undimmed. He looked positively thrilled just to be sitting in a chair chatting with friends.

"How's the side?" Draco asked, worry creasing his forehead slightly.

Ginny chuckled, coming around to sit on Draco's bed facing him. "I'm assuming it's fine, or I wouldn't be awake." He put his hand on hers and she laced their fingers. “How’re you and Goyle holding up, Blaise?”

Daphne pulled up a chair next to Blaise, who threw an arm around her. “The Healers forced us to eat pounds of chocolate until we were sick,” Blaise informed them dryly, looking very sorry for himself. “If I never eat chocolate again, it’ll still be too soon.”

"The Death Eaters didn't..." Ginny paused, searching for the right words. "do anything to you?"

Surprisingly, a wry grin stole over his face. "Torture us, you mean? Not at all."

"Don't let him fool you," Daphne growled. "He had bruises aplenty, a broken nose, and a cracked rib."

"That's still light," Draco softly replied.

Blaise nodded solemnly, agreeing with his friend's assessment. "The only thing I could think was that they still expected us to join them. What they gave Goyle and me were loving caresses compared to what they put the non-Slytherin Aurors through." He chuckled. "I doubt they still expect us to join now."

Daphne's face fell. “Those other Aurors are critical, though. Hermione’s been in and out of here, trying to find out what they gave away and what they learned before they…”

“Die.” Ginny’s word rang hollowly in the silence that followed. Daphne gave a slow nod.

Worry creased Draco’s forehead. “Has Theo…?”

Daphne shook her head. “His court-martial is set for Thursday.”

“Lovely,” Draco grimaced.

The serious atmosphere was too much for Blaise. He’d been gone too long to suppress his mischief any longer. "A griffin Patronus, Draco? How Slytherin of you."

Draco groaned. “Even while I’m bloody rescuing you, you still manage to find something to hold over me.”

Blaise snorted. “It was hard to miss, mate. All large and glowing and Gryffindor-y.”

Draco turned to the resident Gryffindor. “I blame you for this. If I hadn’t been trying to help you I would have gotten a proper snake.”

Laughter burst from Ginny. “Griffin, not Gryffindor. I think it fits you, what with griffins being proud, ferocious and only occasionally befriending wizards.” She raised an eyebrow, infected by Blaise’s mischief. “Sounds like a certain Slytherin I know.”

Draco’s scowl deepened. “Change it back, Weasley.”

“I can’t! It’s a manifestation of who you truly are, Draco. Why in the world would I want to alter that?” Ginny’s eyes glittered happily. “Besides, I think it’s quite fitting that the Captain of Slytherin Squad has my house emblem for a Patronus. Fair’s fair.”

Pointedly, Daphne cleared her throat. "Speaking of a certain Gryffindor, if I recall my Care of Magical Creatures classes, Ginny’s poor horse Patronus isn’t safe around this monster. Griffins eat horses.”

“Aha!” Draco looked triumphant. “Now you have to change it back.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Patronuses don’t have to get along. We’ll be fine.”

Blaise frowned, distracted by a stray thought. “I thought sometimes they did get along…”

At his comment, Daphne also remembered, and appeared to be dying. She clutched her stomach as waves of laughter rolled over her. "Yes! Sometimes they do!" she managed through a fresh bout of giggles, "Griffins and horses can fall in love and make--"

The realization hit. Draco blanched. "Hippogriffs."

Stifling her shock, Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth. "No, they can't possibly..."

Blaise nodded sagely, managing a straighter face than all of them combined. "The rare, majestic hippogriff symbolizes love that defies all boundaries. It’s a good thing Daphne and I paid attention in Care of Magical Creatures, Draco. I do remember hippogriffs being your favorite."

Draco growled, chucking a pillow at Blaise's head. Blaise caught it deftly, tucking it behind himself.

Love that defies all boundaries. Ginny flushed red to the roots of her hair. Thankfully, none of the Slytherins knew Patronuses weren’t the least bit random.

Out of the corner of her eye, Daphne shot Ginny a sly look. “So what’s it mean that I have a sparrow?”

That question was far too perceptive for Ginny’s taste. She turned an even brighter shade of red. “It means that you have a sparrow.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, not about to let Ginny’s discomfort slip by unexploited. “And say I got--”

“A flobberworm,” Draco cut in bitterly.

“--a sparrow.” Blaise smirked. “That wouldn’t mean anything in particular?”

Ginny cleared her throat to buy herself time. “Well, it uh, might not mean anything, no.”

All three Slytherins watched her carefully, catching the implication Ginny had tried to step around. Draco focused intently, waiting for the next words.

Finally, it was Daphne who grew tired of waiting, and asked, “Might?”

Ginny was positive that her toes turned red with the force of her blush. There just wasn’t a good way to say it, so she blurted it as fast as she dared. “Patronuses reflect who you are. They can indicate compatibility, or...uh...change to match when you love someone. So maybe Blaise's would have been a sparrow all along, maybe it would have changed to match Daphne.”

With pale skin, in a white hospital gown, among white pillows and white sheets, the red of Draco’s blush exploded across his face. Even from halfway across the hospital, the sight was unmistakable.

Blaise smirked broadly. “So Draco--”

“Don’t.” Draco’s blush spread further, undermining his attempt at a threatening tone. “Don’t even think about it.”

The stronger Draco blushed, the wider Blaise smirked. “I was just going to ask if I should try casting the Patronus again,” he replied innocently. “For… educational purposes, you understand.”

Draco glared, cheeks still reddening. “Educational, my arse.”

“All my life, I thought Patronuses were just for carrying messages nearly instantaneously, without a chance of interception, to anyone, anywhere. Now that I know it’s a better compatibility test than Amortentia...” Blaise shrugged helplessly. “That I can get behind.”

“It’s quite a difficult spell,” Daphne added, oozing pride. “I still can’t believe little old me beat both my Captain and our so-called Charms Expert to a corporeal Patronus.”

The ‘so-called’ Charms Expert raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Yes, pardon me for letting my skills wither while I was gone,” he replied dryly. “How thoughtless.”

Instantly, Daphne’s gaze dropped, ashamed of her cavalier comment.

Blaise groaned. “Oh, come on! If I can’t joke about being captured, then what’s the bloody point?!”

The other three shared a laugh, enjoying having their friend back. It had been too long.

The laughter tapered off as Draco’s bedside curtain pulled back with a rattle. The stern Healer stepped around it, taking in Draco’s three visitors with a weary sigh. Her scowl lingered on Ginny, the constant thorn in her side, sitting too comfortably on her patient’s bed.

“They can hear whatever it is you have to tell me,” Draco said, misunderstanding.

His Healer nodded briskly. “You had all the signs of a Dark curse hitting you, but without knowing what kind, I couldn’t release you in case you dropped dead without warning.” She straightened her papers importantly. “It was a slowing curse, designed to target the internals. Your body would have kept slowing down until it stopped.”

Involuntarily, Ginny’s hand tightened around Draco’s. He sent her a reassuring squeeze back. “I’m glad you stopped it first, then.”

The Healer gave a nod in acknowledgement. “I managed to halt the effects, so you’ll be fully healthy in a few days. Stay calm, relaxed, and you’re free to go.”

At ‘calm’ and ‘relaxed’, the Healer glared at Ginny. She shuffled papers around, putting a new set on top. “As for you,” she glared again at the redhead for good measure, “your Healer was more than happy to release you from his care. Provided you do nothing to aggravate your side for at least two days.” She arched an eyebrow. “Think you can manage that?”

Ginny grinned mischievously. “So no Quidditch?”

The Healer scowled, not taking the risk Ginny wasn’t kidding. “No. Quidditch,” she bit out. “No riding dragons, no battling Dark Wizards, nothing your mother would gasp at you doing.” She leaned closer. “And I know your mother.”

Ginny sobered at that, nodding solemnly. She understood the threat.

The Healer straightened. “Your personal possessions are on your own bed, when you’re ready to leave.” With a curt nod, she strode away.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the witch’s retreating back. “What got in her tea?”

“Ginny did,” Daphne snorted. “She refused to leave your unconscious side, even while gushing blood all over you. Her Healer had to knock her out to pry her away.”

Draco turned to Ginny, his face unreadable. She quickly looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “More like dripping, really,” she replied weakly. “And not actually on you…”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Ginny pointedly stared down at their intertwined fingers instead of his face.

Blaise stood, clearing his throat. "Hey Daphne, let's go get the Weaselette's stuff for her."

Daphne smirked, understanding perfectly, and followed Blaise away from the bed.

After they were out of sight, Draco softly said, "You scared me too, back there."

Ginny looked up at that, watching him in confusion.

"You went down while they took killing shots." With a sigh, he leaned back against the pillows, eyes closed. "I got sick of them getting away with that."

"Was that your first...?" she asked.

Eyes still closed, Draco nodded.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said softly.

His eyes opened at that. "I'm not. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. They got my message, and stopped singling you out."

"They just singled you out instead," Ginny drawled. "I think they got a different message than you intended."

Draco studied her intently. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

Ginny nodded. "A few, though only one singlehandedly. I haven't ever used the Killing Curse, but I've considered it."

"I wouldn't recommend it," he replied with forced casualness. "It feels...satisfying."

"I've heard as much. Although I'm fairly sure killing someone who was threatening you would be satisfying no matter which curse I used to do it." Ginny smirked.

Draco returned her smirk, his serious mood lightening. "Fair point."

Blaise walked back around the curtain, a bundle of clothes in his arms, and directed a puzzled look at the bundle’s owner. "Riddle me this, Weaselette. How does an Auror, who came here injured straight from a raid, manage to get fined for improper disposal of debris?”

Daphne followed him, holding out the offending sheet of parchment. “It claims that you dumped one metric ton of… dirt onto the waiting room floor. Normally, I’d suspect a prank, but after my experience with this squad…” She trailed off knowingly.

Reading the paper, Ginny giggled. "Looks like they managed to free Mokely from his mound of dirt."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, not understanding in the slightest.

"A mission Ginny and I went on while you were gone," Draco filled him in. "We rescued an Auror glued to the ground in Albania. Well, more like we just dug out the ground around him and brought the whole mess here for St. Mungo's to sort through."

"So that's where you got the second Hermione!" Daphne realized.

Blaise's eyebrows nearly popped off his face. "I can't have heard that right."

Ginny chuckled. "You definitely did."

"You've been gone too long," Draco added with a smirk. "Everything's gone completely mental."

"So I hear." Blaise turned to Ginny. "Including a second Weasley, as if one wasn't punishment enough."

Playfully, Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hate on him all you want, but Slytherin Squad would have disbanded if he hadn't joined. And even with you and Goyle back, we're on the small side, as squads go. Senior squads, especially."

Blaise whistled appreciatively. "How do you keep getting promotions without me?"

Draco chuckled. "How we manage it despite you is the real question. Both Hermione and our Lieutenant here seemed to think you were worthy of a senior squad ages ago. It's amazing how well you have them fooled."

With a grin, Blaise reached down and ruffled Ginny's hair. "Knew I liked you for a reason." Ginny protested, but didn't really mind.

"Not that this isn't fun watching you harass my girlfriend," Draco drawled with a hint of a smile, "But we'd better get moving while the sun's still up if we want anything to be open."

"Open?" Ginny frowned.

Daphne smirked down at her. "You see, there's these two homeless people living in my house right now. And I'm getting quite tired of lending them my own things."

"I was heading to Diagon Alley to restock," Draco informed Ginny, letting go of her hand to swing his legs down over the edge of the bed. "Blaise didn't think I should go alone, though, so now it's a full bloody expedition."

Daphne snorted. "Yes, how foolish of Blaise. After our squad's just been kidnapped, raided, and, the last time you went to Diagon Alley, attacked, how paranoid to think you shouldn't go alone."

Draco glowered at her, cautiously getting to his feet. He swayed. Ginny reached for him, but he steadied after that, seemingly stable.

"I just meant cause he's not fully well," Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Didn't want to take the risk that his Healer hadn't stopped his curse all the way."

Draco glowered harder, but knew better than to protest.

Daphne, Blaise, Draco, and Ginny walked down the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley. Stares followed them from the passing witches and wizards. Ginny and Draco, still in Auror robes, walked as quickly as they could manage without hobbling. Ginny’s side felt better than it had in a long time, but she still didn’t want to push it. Next to Ginny, Daphne leaned as close to Blaise as she could manage without knocking him over. Daphne and Blaise surveyed the passing crowds, their hands only a twitch away from their wands at all times. With Draco and Ginny still healing, Blaise and Daphne considered themselves on-duty. They took their job seriously.

"I don't get it though," Ginny whispered to Draco. "Why's everyone staring? We can't be the only Aurors to come here in our robes."

Draco chuckled. "You haven't gone out in public with us very often. They stared last time as well, when it was just the two of us. You didn't notice, apparently."

"I did," Ginny frowned. "I just assumed it was because we were here together, and not trying to murder each other."

Blaise gave a wry grin. "Not exactly."

A older witch sniffed as she walked past them. With a sneer at Ginny, she hissed under her breath, "I expected better of a Weasley."

As the witch strode proudly off, the pieces clicked. Ginny sped up, her fingers wrapping around her wand. She grabbed the witch's shoulder, turning her around to face herself. "Excuse me?" Burning anger rose inside Ginny. "What was that you said?"

The witch slapped Ginny's hand off her shoulder. "I'll say it again, if you like. I thought better of a Weasley than to associate with pureblooded scum." The witch shrugged disdainfully. "I guess all purebloods do stick with their own in the end."

"You mean with Aurors," Ginny's blood pulsed heatedly through her veins. "Those people you call scum nearly died protecting you!" She gestured wildly to the three Slytherins, wisely hanging back and pretending not to hear a word.

The witch dared to laugh at that. Ginny's knuckles tightened on her wand. "I'll believe it when I see it. There's bets on how long before they join their families' cells in Azkaban."

Ginny's wand shook. Barely, she kept from hexing the witch outright. "How dare you! You don't even have the slightest idea--"

Daphne laughed loudly and disdainfully, coming around from behind. "There's a joke, thinking a stupid bint like that would be worth a conversation!" She tossed an arm around Ginny's shoulders, pulling her away. "Come on, Weasley. We have Muggles to torture, Dark Lords to resurrect, all the usual."

The witch drew herself up to her full height. "You think it funny? To mock that which your kind still does?"

Daphne threw a hand over her mouth, feigning innocent surprise. "Oh my goodness! Have I offended you? Whatever shall I do? I shan't sleep at night now!"

The witch's mouth twitched in indignation. Daphne wiggled her fingers in a dismissive goodbye. Her arm still around Ginny's shoulders, she led her back to the guys.

Ginny shoved her wand back into her pocket, spitting rage. "I should have hexed her! She shouldn't just get away with that!"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "So this was your first time."

"This?!" Ginny spat, fury glowing in her eyes. "This is what you get all the time?!"

Draco shrugged, imitating nonchalance as he observed Ginny. "Some days are worse than others. It's gotten better since joining the Aurors, but I doubt it'll go away entirely."

"I don't care what Daphne does," Ginny steamed. "I'm hexing the next one."

"We'd rather you not," Blaise replied lightly.

That caught Ginny short. Confused, she waited for him to continue.

"It'll make news," he said softly. "And no matter what they do to aggravate us, that part gets conveniently left out every time."

"We were boycotted the last time the Daily Prophet even tried to tell our side of the story," Draco said. "Now we just don't carry those articles, but all the other papers will, and revel in sensationalizing it."

"That's..." Ginny trailed off.

"Ridiculously unfair?" Daphne shrugged. "Thought you'd be used to it by now, after what the papers did to Potter. It’s all about what sells at the moment.”

Wasn’t she used to it? New resolve stole over Ginny, making her nod fiercely. “You’re right, I am. Which is why I’ll hex the next one and offer a full-page interview to anyone who wants it.” Satisfied, she strode purposefully off. The Slytherins followed after.

“Ginny,” Draco chuckled fondly, “you’ll just bring yourself down with us.”

“Good.” Fire still burned in her eyes. “I’m a Weasley, I can’t handle being admired for too long without feeling nauseous.”

“Don’t worry, dating me will fix that for you.” Draco’s hands shoved down deep in his pockets. “Being admired, that is. She won’t be the only one to assume we’ve corrupted you.”

“I…” Ginny trailed off as a thought hit her. “Are you purposely not touching me in public?”

Draco nodded, a smirk flitting around his mouth.

“Draco Malfoy,” Ginny hissed, leaning closer to furiously whisper, “You put your arm around me this instant or I will hex it there for you!”

Daphne and Blaise chuckled as Draco complied, smirking broadly. “Your wish is my command, Weasley.”

As Draco had predicted, his arm openly around her made the glares intensify. Ginny welcomed it, sneering right back at them. Thankfully for them, no one else was foolish enough to actually comment.

“So what are we even here to get?” Blaise asked. “So far we’ve passed the bookstore, robe shop, animal emporium…”

At once, they all spotted the same shop. Its unmistakable red wood and wide display window called to them: Quality Quidditch Supplies. Draco and Ginny turned to each other with a grin of childlike mischief.

Daphne read both of them like books. She leveled her fiercest glare at them. “Not. On. My. Life. I may not be your mum, but you are staying in my house. And if either of you so much as touches a broom while you’re recovering, I will kick you out on your sorry, homeless arses. Do I make myself clear?”

Draco scowled right back at her. “We weren’t going to ride them. Just stare longingly.”

“Uh huh.” Daphne raised an eyebrow, knowing better than to believe him.

Ginny kicked uselessly at the cobblestones. “Nothing makes me want to do something more than being told I can’t do it.”

Blaise snorted. “And to think I’d been wondering if the Sorting Hat should have put you in Slytherin.” He started off down the road. “Come on, you lot. It’s been far too long since I’ve had ice cream.”

Daphne stepped up to the counter with a smile. “I’ll have strawberry, please.”

Ginny was next. “One Triple Chocolate Delight for me, thanks.”

Draco, third in line, mumbled his order.

The ice cream server frowned, leaning forward. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Draco cleared his throat. He tried again, no louder than before.

The server’s frown deepened. “I’m sorry?”

Sounding like he was ordering an amputation instead of an ice cream, Draco gritted out, “Triple. Chocolate. Delight.” Belatedly, he tacked on, “Please.”

Bewildered, the server took his order.

Ginny giggled unashamedly. “No vanilla this time?”

A pained sigh escaped Draco. “Gracious in victory as always.”

Raising an eyebrow at the strange couple in front of him, Blaise simply told the ice cream server, “Do your worst.”

The crack of Apparition split the air behind them.

Adrenaline slammed through Draco. He spun, his wand flying into his hand. Beside him, Ginny, Blaise, and Daphne also trained their wands on--

Two Aurors?

The Aurors ignored the Slytherin Squad members, scanning every corner of the room, their wands and eyes not stopping for a moment. Around the ice cream parlor, patrons jumped up from their tables or cowered back into corners.

"What's going on?" Ginny demanded.

One Auror cast an Imperturbable Charm while the other stepped forward. "There's been an emergency at the Ministry. Captain Malfoy, Lieutenant Weasley, and Charms Expert Zabini are all required there immediately."

Draco exchanged a worried look with Ginny.

Blaise sighed. “Great, there goes my ice cream.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Daphne looked highly put out. “Everyone but me, huh?”

The Aurors remained unfazed. “Only the ranking officers were summoned.”

Draco put a hand on Daphne’s arm, forestalling her retort. “Gather the squad in the Training Room. We’ll need everyone ready and waiting.”

She still looked like she’d bitten into something sour, but nodded nonetheless.

With a crack, the rest of them Apparated away.

Hermione waited for them at the Apparition point. Tension instantly drained from her face as Draco, Ginny, and Blaise appeared.

"Thank Merlin you're here," she bit out, striding away and expecting them to follow.

Draco skipped a step to catch up with her. “Any chance you’ll tell us what’s going on?”

For once, Blaise refrained from any snarky remarks. He understood the gravity of an emergency summons.

Ginny remained silent as well, her face tight. Hermione didn't panic easily, and this definitely qualified as a panic.

“Even better -- I’ll show you.” Worry lines etched into Hermione’s brow as she continued her brisk stride down the hall. “It might not be urgent, but I wasn’t about to risk being wrong.”

Draco raised an eyebrow inquisitively at Ginny behind Hermione's back. Ginny shook her head. No, she didn't know what was going on any more than Draco did.

Hermione stopped outside a window of thick, spell-proof glass. "This was just dropped on the Ministry's front door, gift-wrapped and tied with a bow. Literally." Beyond the window lay a single white room, protective enchantments flickering around three Aurors inside. Each Auror cast spell after spell on--

"A body?" Ginny's face twisted in confusion.

“That’s Mulciber,” Blaise frowned.

Draco pressed up against the glass. "So that's who I killed."

"We're assuming so," Hermione replied tightly, "since the package was addressed to you."

The others spun to stare at Hermione. She grimaced, pulling a scrap of paper smaller than her palm out of her pocket. "We checked it for all magic, Dark, or otherwise. It was totally clean."

Draco took it from her. The paper crinkled as he smoothed its creases. It simply read:

Draco Malfoy:

You're next.

Draco's throat closed. "They don't waste time, do they?" he said casually, with only a slight frown.

"Please take this seriously," Hermione implored. "It might not have been coincidence that we got this while you were in public, a perfect target."

He forced a chuckle. "What do you want me to do -- lie low? Maybe at a secret location surrounded by Aurors?" The shrug came easily. "I was already taking their threats seriously."

Blaise nodded agreement. “They’re being vague to cause more fear. They might not even be planning anything specific.”

"But the threat was on me before," Ginny corrected. Her eyes watched Draco closely, waiting to catch his true reaction. "What does this mean, now that your father isn't protecting you?"

With one last look at the useless paper, Draco tucked it into his own pocket. "It means that he was before," he replied simply. "Or else targeting me wouldn't be an occasion worthy of such a grand declaration."

"Is that all it means?" Hermione's piercing eyes watched him.

Draco threw up his hands in exasperation. "How the bloody hell should I know?! I never studied the etiquette for proper corpse delivery!"

Blaise pressed against the glass, ignoring Draco’s outburst. "Any wounds on the body? Any distinguishing marks?”

Hermione shook her head, brown curls swinging. "None. Only traces of the Killing Curse. No marks, not even bruises."

Ginny frowned, the pieces not making a full puzzle yet. "Any changes in the Death Eater Polyjuiced to be you?"

"Yes, unfortunately." A grimace split Hermione's face. "She's still in a coma, but we figured out she was one of the junior secretaries for the Ministry. Just a clerk. Not sure where that will end up taking us."

Still, Blaise studied the corpse, searching for answers. "The injured Aurors?"

"It's still not hopeful," Hermione replied. "I don't know how this would relate to them, though."

"I don't either," Blaise replied. “But if they’re planning something -- and that’s definitely an if -- this could be a diversion.”

Ginny nodded agreement. "I can't see Death Eaters going to all this work just to spook us."

Draco snorted. "My father would."

"There's no one else?" Ginny asked. "No one we’re not thinking of that could be in danger?"

It was as if a brick slammed into Draco's gut. "Theo," he realized. "Where is he right now?"

"He's in a holding cell until his hearing tomorrow." Hermione paused. "You think he's in danger?"

"I think he's every bit the target I am," Draco growled. "Having a vindictive Death Eater for a father isn't good for anyone's health."

Hermione's Patronus burst from a wand he hadn't seen her draw. "Tell Tonks to reinforce the guard around Nott's cell immediately." Message received, her otter scampered off. Hermione turned to Draco, Ginny and Blaise. "Let's solve this right now, shall we?"

"Better late than never," Draco muttered, stalking after her as she strode down the hall.

Hermione sent out a flurry of messages as they hurried to the holding cells. By the time they arrived, a small army awaited them.

Two Aurors stood sentry at the entrance, watching Hermione, Ginny, Draco, and Blaise enter. The guards watched as if even those famous (and infamous) Aurors could change into Voldemort at a moment's notice. Draco thought this was unfair, as only one of the four of them even had a Dark Mark.

Beyond the thick doors of the holding area, they spotted Theo's cell. It wasn’t hard. His glass cell was surrounded by seven more Aurors in their traditional staggered circle. Some faced in, some faced out, but not a single square inch was left unwatched. What was once a dignified way to wait for sentencing had become little more than a fishbowl.

Theo’s normally curly hair fell limply across his forehead, his thin frame practically swallowed by the pale grey robe he'd been given. He was not Yaxley, to turn his cell into a throne and treat the Aurors like his supplicants. Instead, Theo looked like the lost, abandoned boy he'd just become.

He spotted Hermione and his three teammates coming, rising to press his palms against the glass. Four wands followed his every move. He backed away from the glass, hands up in a gesture of goodwill. His Auror guards took no note of his goodwill. Their wands continued to track him.

"Hi guys," He tried to sound casual -- and failed. "Has, uh, something happened?"

"Yes, Theo." Hermione was sincerely apologetic. "We're going to have your hearing right now, if that works for you."

Shock ran across his face. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he tried to take it in. "Right now? As in now?" He blinked hard, getting a grip on himself. "Yeah, sure, I guess. It's not like I have anywhere better to be."

At a sharp nod from Hermione, the guarding Aurors opened the door. Wands raised, they started casting the binding charm on him.

"We can handle him," Hermione cut in. Confused, the Aurors lowered their wands.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. There was such a thing as too much caution. "Constant vigilance?" he whispered mockingly to Ginny.

But she shook her head. "There's a whole different holding cell for suspected allies who change side. Plush, comfy and whatnot," she whispered back. "If he's here, it's because we told them to worry about his safety in the other one."

"They seem to have forgotten the point of the switch rather quickly," Blaise drawled.

Ginny nodded. "Constant vigilance indeed."

Warily, Theo stepped out of his glass cage. He tried to surreptitiously watch every Auror watching him, but gave up rather quickly.

“This way,” Hermione headed down a small corridor. Three Aurors broke away from the guards, encircling the group.

Theo moved closer to Draco as they followed after Hermione. “They’re not going to send me to Azkaban, are they?” he whispered.

“They’d better not,” Draco growled. “If that’s their idea of a warm welcome, we have a senior squad waiting to tell them otherwise.”

The younger man nodded uneasily, not reassured in the slightest. He paused as his brain caught up with what Draco had said. “Wait, which senior squad?”

“Senior Squad Slytherin,” Ginny grinned. “Kind of catchy, actually.”

His eyes went wide. “We’re the senior squad?! I thought that took years!”

“We’ve been around for years,” Draco growled. “Everyone’s always forgetting that.”

“Oh?” Ginny raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Those glorious years before my time where you went on a single, solitary mission?”

Blaise kept his face straight. “Some of us forget on purpose.”

Ahead of them, Hermione pushed open a plain wooden door. The escorting Aurors waited outside as the rest walked in, prepared for the worst. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood as they entered, greeting them warmly. Harry inclined his head from the other side of the simple table.

Theo looked around the plain room in surprise. “I’m not getting a formal trial?”

Kingsley turned to him. “Not at all,” he said in his deep, even voice. “However, we will have to give you Veritaserum, to make sure your report is accurate.”

“You can say no,” Hermione put in gently. “Helping us like you did is enough to clear your name, but we need the details before you can rejoin the squad.”

Slowly, a grin spread across Theo’s face. “Sure, I’ll do it. No problem.” He pulled out one of the seven identical chairs, pausing with his hand on its back. “You won’t ask me anything too embarrassing, right?”

“No promises,” Harry chuckled. “But we will try to stick to the facts.”

Theo frowned, but sat.

Hermione pulled out the glass vial, conjuring a shot glass of water. The two drops of Veritaserum dripped into the water, disappearing instantly. Bracing himself for the worst, Theo drained the glass.

"State your full name, for the record," Kingsley said evenly.

Theo's eyes looked a bit distant. "Theodore Cantankerous Nott the Second. Always hated my full name." His face twisted. "Or being called 'Junior'. What kind of an ass names his kid after himself?"

Draco suppressed his laughter as best he could. Ginny didn't bother, snickering openly.

Hermione sighed. "How perfect. He's sensitive to Veritaserum."

Theo's eyebrows rose. "Does this mean I'll say things I'll regret?"

Blaise tried valiantly to keep his voice solemn. "I believe you already have."

“Tell us what you remember about the events of Yaxley's trial," Harry said. "Start at the beginning."

Theo frowned, racking his brain. "All of us went down in the elevator. There were a lot of people crammed in, and having a Weasley there made it awkward." Ginny stiffened instinctively next to Draco. "I don't remember what she said, but Dad reacted against it. I could see it. He really, really hates her, for being a blood-traitor, and having the audacity to count that the same as being a pureblood."

Theo shrugged. "Anyway, we got to Yaxley's cell, and it was kind of nice to see him again, I guess, but he wasn't any less creepy than I remembered." A sudden thought hit him. "That's right! Weasley mentioned catching Rowle. That's how she made it awkward." His face fell. "I always liked Rowle..." Suddenly, he jerked his face up to Hermione's. "It's not a crime to like a Death Eater, is it?"

The muggle born witch looked conflicted. "No, not a crime. Unless you helped Rowle at all?"

His face crinkled in thought. "He stayed in our summer home. Not while I was there, though."

The mood around the table instantly turned uneasy. The Nott's had already been cleared from their involvement, but if Theo admitted to anything new...

"Your father's summer home," Draco clarified.

"Yeah," Theo replied easily. "Dad didn't tell me Rowle was there till after he was caught." He pouted. "No one ever tells me anything."

All the senior officers breathed a sigh of relief. No one wanted to imprison their unexpected turncoat.

"What happened at Yaxley's cell?" Harry prodded.

"We got him out and brought him to the trial room. Then we had to stand around all boringly. We're apparently supposed to scan for threats and stuff?" Theo shrugged again. "I figured with nine Aurors doing it, they didn't need a tenth. So I just searched through the crowd for hot witches."

All eyes turned accusatorily to Draco. The Captain threw up his hands. "Why is his stupidity my fault?!" he demanded.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Training scores, results, noticing that he doesn't take missions seriously?"

"Oh, I can pay attention in training just fine," Theo cut in. "Daphne's taken, Astoria hates me, and Weasley wasn't there. Well," he equivocated, "even if she had been, she's still a Weasley." He stated it matter-of-factly, as if it explained everything.

Now everyone turned to Ginny, although with sympathy. The Lieutenant dissolved into a fit of giggles. "Wow, he's a cad!"

With a wry grin, Blaise shook his head. “And here I thought he’d learned anything since Hogwarts.”

Draco wasn't sure whether to be angry or amused. "I'll also add that that was his first mission."

"What happened after that?" Hermione gritted out, far less than amused.

Theo shrugged. "Goyle did something, Macnair started fighting, it was all a blur. I didn't know what was going on. And then I wasn't there anymore."

"What do you mean?" Shacklebolt frowned.

"Dad Side-Along Apparated me out," Theo explained. "I was back home, behind our wards, before I knew what was going on."

"Why didn't you alert anyone at the Ministry?" Hermione asked. "Or leave?"

"I was scared out of my mind," he admitted, Veritaserum keeping any shame at bay. "I'd never been a Death Eater, but now everyone assumed I was one. I can’t cast a Patronus and was terrified they'd catch an owl if I sent one. So I..." his voice faltered. "I just went along with it," he ended softly. "They had me torture the Aurors, laughing when I cringed. I hated it so much and wanted to be anywhere but there."

A fist clenched around Draco's heart. He understood that completely. And Draco hadn't even had the excuse of it not being his own choice.

Imperceptibly, Ginny's hand twitched, the side of hers brushing against the side of his. Draco smiled. That woman was too perceptive for her own good.

“He did as little as possible.” Blaise confirmed in a soft whisper. “Even to the non-Slytherin Aurors.”

"Why didn't you just Floo out?" Hermione pressed.

Theo threw his hands into the air. "I was afraid they were monitoring it! They had wards everywhere, even at Jugson's house, and they said that those weren’t even half as good as where they were going!"

Draco's stomach dropped. Around him, conversation continued.

"What were you afraid of?" Harry asked.

"That they'd send a Death Eater after me and kill me on the spot," he stated as if it were obvious. "I heard them joke about violently murdering anyone on Slytherin Squad who didn't join them. No way I would be left out if I ran away."

Blaise chimed in. “Goyle and I gave half-hearted answers, as I said in my debrief.” Hermione dipped her head in acknowledgement. “Said we needed time to think it over still. Theo didn’t have that excuse.”

"What else did they mention about where they were going?" Draco asked, trying to keep the anxiety of his suspicions at bay.

Theo's face scrunched as he tried to remember. "Called it an enemy stronghold, that's for sure. Oh, and one of them laughed and said it wouldn't have worked if Lucius hadn't brought the Dark Mark back. Nothing else I can think of."

A fist of ice slammed into Draco's gut. He tried to keep his voice calm through his worst fear. "And this was in reference to retaking the 'enemy stronghold'?"

Theo nodded. “I don’t think I heard anything else though. They rarely talked about anything important in front of me. Or anything at all.”

“And definitely not in front of us prisoners,” Blaise added, studying Theo.

“Do you think…” Draco asked Theo slowly, “that they could have been referring to Malfoy Manor?”

All eyes turned to Theo as he pondered the question. “They didn’t mention it till after Blaise and Goyle were captured,” he concluded. “So… maybe?”

“Any other scraps of information you can think of?” Hermione prodded. “Even one detail might be instrumental in taking them down.”

He shook his head. “I can tell you how each of their families are doing, if you want that. But most of them are in hiding far, far out of the country.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Honestly, I would have told you guys all of this without Veritaserum. All of the important, non-embarrassing things, at least.”

“So, less than half of everything you said?” Blaise raised an eyebrow.

“Yep!” Theo replied cheerfully.

Hermione turned to Shacklebolt. With a nod, Shacklebolt proceeded. “Theodore Nott Jr, you are hereby acquitted of all charges, declared an Auror in good standing, and released back to your Captain for further orders.”

Theo sighed in relief. “Oh, thank Merlin. I knew sooner or later I’d end up calling Granger a Mudblood.”

Ginny bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“I’m giving him the antidote now,” Hermione said stiffly.

Wearily, Shacklebolt massaged his face. “Please do.”

The other vial was brought forward, and two drops administered from that. The moment Theo downed the glass, shocked horror exploded across his face. He slumped to the table, head collapsed on his arms. “Please kill me now,” he whispered.

“Don’t tempt Hermione,” Harry chuckled.

A long-suffering sigh escaped Hermione. “Being a pig is not a crime.”

“Being a pig in my thoughts,” Theo corrected weakly, not raising his head from the table.

Slowly, Hermione turned to him, fiery fury building in her eyes. Still collapsed on the table, Theo missed this critical warning sign. “Please tell me how basing your ability to work with your team on their attractiveness and relationship status is confined to your thoughts.”

He slunk lower into his arms. A soft, faint voice said hesitantly, “Less than half of the team?”

Physical steam would start pouring from Hermione’s ears any moment now.

“His critical lapse in discipline at the Yaxley trial is more concerning,” Draco cut in before it could get any worse. “I’ll deal with that as soon as I can, and hopefully it won’t happen again.”

Hermione’s bubble of anger popped, deflating harmlessly. “See that you do.”

“I could help you with that, Theo,” Ginny grinned wickedly. “I’m great at ignoring hot witches.”

“Now I want to die and kill all of you,” the bedraggled Auror muttered into his arms.

Shacklebolt massaged his head again. “Auror Nott,” he said wearily, “you are free to leave anytime you wish.”

Draco added, “Join Daphne and the team in our Training Room.”

Blaise smirked. “That is, if you think you can resist her charms.”

Without another word, Theo bolted from the room.

The door creaked open as the guarding Aurors stuck their heads in. “Uh, sir? Was that supposed to happen?”

Shacklebolt’s voice bore the weight and weariness of his lofty office as he replied with a straight face, “Yes, that was supposed to happen.”

Harry felt no such weight and weariness, dissolving into a fit of laughter. Eventually, he regained composure, wiping at his eyes. “Can we find something else to charge that kid with? I’m going to miss him.”

“I won’t,” Hermione snapped. “If we can get on to serious business?”

As Harry struggled with fresh laughter, Shacklebolt turned to Draco. “How likely do you think it is that they moved into Malfoy Manor?”

Draco frowned. “Very. Unless you know of other territory they could have conquered? Something with strong wards, that could be called an enemy stronghold?”

“And something to do with the Dark Mark,” Ginny mulled it over.

Harry snorted. “Just say the words ‘Dark Mark’ and I think ‘Malfoy Manor’.” At Draco’s glare, Harry threw his hands in the air in protest. “But in all seriousness, I think you’re right.”

An alarm screeched throughout the Ministry, its cry echoing through every room. “The Ministry is under attack,” a witch’s soothing voice said with incongruous composure. “Please remain calm. Exit the building by Apparition or the nearest Floo. I repeat, the Ministry is under attack…”

Everyone exploded out of their seats.

“That’s a ward being tripped!” Hermione yelled. “Everyone, grab me!”

They did as commanded. Hermione Apparated them directly into the War Room. She rushed to the table in the middle, the map across it flashing red. At a touch of her hand, it zoomed in to show the problem. Hundreds of black dots closed upon the Ministry, and quickly.

“Dementors,” Hermione breathed. Instantly, she regained composure, issuing commands like the trained soldier she was. “Harry! Get Ron and the Captains!”

Tonks popped in, knowing exactly where to go in a crisis. “My squad’s ready. Where’re we hit hardest?”

“Atrium,” Hermione shot back. “45 seconds before Dementors flood it.”

“Got it!” Tonks Disapparated.

Ron and the other Captains popped in, the Captains quickly disappearing as Hermione gave orders. Ron stayed, taking over seamlessly in this real-world chess game. Draco wasn’t about to distract anyone for a second by reminding them his squad stood ready.

The moment Hermione had a chance to breathe, Ginny stepped forward. “What about us?”

The Head of the DMLE looked up at her friend, evaluating the misshapen game piece she’d forgotten she had. “Ginny, you’re the only one with a battle-tried Patronus on your squad. I can’t risk you or your squad like that.”

“So send us to Malfoy Manor,” Draco volunteered quietly. “Let us counterattack.”

Steel filled Hermione’s eyes. “Go.”

The woods around Malfoy Manor stood dark and ominously looming. Up ahead, the silhouette of the main gate could be seen through the trees.

Ginny and Draco waited silently as Daphne led Slytherin Squad in. Blaise stood by, cautious, but ready. Daphne Apparated in by Blaise’s side, her face fierce. Warrington gripped his wand tightly, followed closely by Goyle, overwhelmed, but willing.

One final pop came through. Theo clutched his wand like a lifeline, scanning the trees frantically.

“Glad to have you back,” Draco whispered.

“Terrified to be back,” Theo replied uneasily. “Any idea what we’ll find inside?”

“First, we have to get inside,” Ginny answered. “But no, no idea. Blaise? What do you think of the wards?”

Blaise raised his wand. “I can’t flex them, or the person the wards are tied to will feel it. But they seem perfectly intact and impossibly strong.”

Draco turned to the whole team. “Hear that? No one touches the wards other than Blaise, who knows what he’s doing. Everyone else, scan for a magical residue of any kind. Something to do with the Dark Mark would be ideal.”

The suggestion caught Daphne off guard. “What does the Dark Mark have to do with wards?”

“Probably everything,” Draco replied. “A Death Eater told Theo it was what allowed them to get in originally.”

Theo swallowed nervously. “I wish I knew more.”

“So do I,” Draco said wryly.

“Start scanning for that magic,” Ginny commanded the team. “And don’t even breathe on the wards.”

As Daphne, Warrington, Goyle, and Theo scanned the grounds, Blaise stared quizzically at the main gate.

“See something?” Draco asked.

“Not really,” Blaise answered vaguely. “But doesn’t it just seem like your father to put the backdoor in a prominent place?” At Draco’s frown, Blaise continued. “As a secret middle-finger to You-Know-Who?”

“Or for his own convenience,” Draco muttered. “It doesn’t hurt to look.”

Ginny followed as Blaise and Draco trudged up the main path. “Draco?” she asked. “Did you feel the wards come down from anywhere in particular?”

Draco instantly felt like slamming his head into a wall. “The main gate,” he replied weakly.

Blaise snorted. “Yeah, I’m guessing it won’t hurt to look there.”

Cautiously, they crept toward the main gate. Stopping a foot away, Blaise stretched out his wand towards it. His face twisted. “I can’t tell if this is the spot or not. I’m going to have to flex it.”

Motioning him to wait, Draco gestured that the squad join them. They filed around Blaise, Ginny, and Draco, standing by patiently. “Prepare for the worst.”

At Draco’s nod, Blaise began testing the wards for irregularities. The air rippled in front of Blaise’s wand. He frowned. “Draco, try pressing your Dark Mark against the ‘M’ on ‘Malfoy Manor’.”

He turned to the inscription on the pillar. “Which ‘M’?”

“‘Malfoy’!” Blaise groaned. Every second they waited, the Death Eaters got more warning. “The important ‘M’!”

Draco ripped back his sleeve, slamming his forearm against the ‘M’. Nothing happened.

Warrington snorted. “You look really, really dumb right now.”

Ignoring him, Draco racked his brain for other ideas.

“Is there anything else your father would add?” Ginny asked. “Some second step we’re missing?”

Draco pulled his arm away, looking closely at the stone. A faint stain surrounded the same ‘M’ he’d pressed his arm against. “Blood,” he realized on a hunch. “Malfoy blood.”

With a flick of his wand, he slit his arm down its Dark Mark. Blood slid down his wrist and across the stone as he pressed his Mark against it again.

The wards whined, shimmering in the air. With a deafening crash, they fell.

Even Warrington looked impressed. “Way, way less dumb now.”

Draco could feel the lowered wards lurking at the back of his mind. “Everyone through the gates. NOW.”

The gates swung open at the lightest touch as the team scrambled inside. Focusing, Draco raised the wards back up to their full strength. “The Death Eaters should be trapped now,” he whispered, full of menace. “Let’s go hunting.”

Theo laughed nervously. “I hate to be the one to point it out, but they still outnumber us, about four to one.”

Daphne chuckled darkly. “Then when you’ve shot four, you can go home.”

“I’ve never shot anyone,” Theo whispered. “And... and my dad’s in there…”

“Let someone else worry about your dad,” Ginny commanded easily. “Stick close to me, and I’ll draw their fire. Draco?” she turned to him. “Where’s an obscure place we can Apparate in?”

Draco racked his brain. Every place he could think of was likely to host Death Eaters. “The House Elves quarters,” he finally realized.

Blaise frowned. “I don’t even know where that is, Draco. Can you Side-Along Apparate this many people?”

“No,” he bit out. “How about the sunroom? Ginny, you ate breakfast there the first day here.”

“And Goyle and I know it too,” Blaise added, holding Daphne. “Theo and Warrington, grab a partner.”

Draco grabbed Theo’s shoulder. “We go on the count of three. One, two, three!”

With a crack and the familiar disorientation, they landed in the sunroom. Immediately, Draco spun, scanning for any movement.

Even in the dark, the sunroom still looked roughly like it had when he left. A fist inside Draco's chest loosened. Yes, they were only things, but he was through having his home invaded. Never again, if he could help it.

"Homenum Revelio," he cast. Only a faint signal showed from upstairs. "They're blocking against it. Follow me."

With Silencing charms on all of them, the squad followed Draco up the stairs, to what had previously been Ginny's room. Blaise stood in front of the door, ready to open it. At Draco's nod, he threw the doors wide open.

A shocked Death Eater rose from the bed, fumbling for his wand.

"Stupefy!" Draco yelled, and the bolt knocked him clean off his feet.

Scrambling noises came from the attached bathroom, and Slytherin Squad took cover. A single Death Eater stepped out, a hex from Warrington sending the Death Eater crashing to the ground.

Draco scanned again. Not even the faintest trace of human life was visible outside this single bedroom. "Something's not right," he muttered. "Bind and wake the first one."

Daphne eagerly complied. The Death Eater spluttered back into consciousness. "I didn't do anything!" he declared unconvincingly.

Draco knelt down, staring in the man's face. "Where are the rest of the Death Eaters?"

"At the Ministry," the Death Eater answered as if it were obvious. "They followed the Dementors in."

Ginny frowned down at him. "That's stupid. There's just as many Aurors as Death Eaters, and Aurors are better fighters."

The man chuckled at her. "We're smarter than that, sweetheart."

"Anything else you want to tell us?" Draco growled. "It'll lower your Azkaban sentencing."

The Death Eater grinned, showing a gaggle of filthy teeth. "Nothing will lower it for me."

"Stupefy," Draco shot him. Once the Death Eater collapsed again, Draco swore violently. "What would you do if you were them?"

"Target key personnel in the chaos," Ginny realized in horror. "Assassinate Hermione, Shacklebolt, as many as they can manage."

Draco nodded sharply, turning to his team. "We're going back to the Ministry to fight Death Eaters. Anyone think they can't handle that?"

Shakily, Theo raised his hand.

"Stay here and guard the house, Theo," Draco commanded. "Search for anything useful, and Floo Hermione if you find anything that could change the battle."

Theo nodded frantically, his relief evident. "Yes, sir! Count on me!"

"Apparate to the War Room," Draco commanded as he Apparated.

Six pops later, and Slytherin Squad stood in the remains of the War Room. No one was here, now. Paneling had been blasted off the walls. Pockmarks covered the floor, along with the burned scars from an explosion. Multiple explosions, Draco realized.

Ginny reached down, touching her wand to a pool of blood on the table, next to the slashed map. "Hermione's blood," she whispered.

Draco's throat clenched. "Where else would she go?"

"Anywhere," Ginny replied honestly. "She never kept patterns for a reason."

He tightened his grip on his wand. "Let's go find--"

The fireplace flashed green behind Draco. He spun, casting a shield. Theo tumbled through the green flames out onto the floor of the War Room.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "That didn't last long."

"I searched the Death Eaters for anything that might help." Theo looked like he'd seen a ghost. "One of them had this mirror, and when I touched it, your father looked out of it."

The blood in Draco's veins turned to ice. "What?"

Theo swallowed hard. "He started talking to me, so I dropped the mirror and ran here. But..." He braced himself to say the words. "He had a wand. And I don't think he was in his cell."

Immediately, Draco spun toward the Floo to Azkaban. Hermione had taken Draco to Azkaban under her own Apparition clearance. But for anyone without specific clearance, this Floo in the War Room was the only way in or out. And if the War Room had fallen, like the destruction and blood said...

"The Ministry attack was just a diversion!" Ginny swore. She conjured her Patronus, sending the brief message to Harry.

The Floo to Azkaban gaped like a maw, and Draco could easily imagine the screams from the other side. With only ten Aurors stationed there, and caught off-guard… Slytherin Squad would be lucky if a single Auror was still alive when they arrived.

"We're going in," Draco said evenly. "It'll likely be bad, with no backup to speak of."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Daphne asked, trying to sound tough as her wand shook in her grip.

At Ginny's nod, Draco tossed the powder in. "Azkaban!" he commanded, jumping through.

With a disorientating rush, he tumbled out on the concrete floor of an outpost. The sounds of explosions, yells, and curses sounded from off in the distance. This had once been an outpost, he realized. The top and front of their outpost had been exploded completely away, leaving only the jagged bottom half of the wall for protection.

The rest of Slytherin Squad tumbled through the Floo behind him. Draco peered over the top of the wall. A spell screamed by, barely missing him. He yanked his head back down.

The crash of the sea sounded at their backs, meaning their outpost must be on the outer edge of the ground floor. Through the gaping front of the outpost, the dark stony main tower of the prison loomed over them.

"The Anti-Apparition ward is still up, and strong," Blaise declared. "As long as that's up, everyone's trapped here."

"Where's the ward coming from?" Draco asked. "That'll be where the Death Eaters are headed."

Ginny nodded agreement. "The Dementor distraction got them in, but it's stupid to go back through the Ministry. Not if they can help it."

Raising his wand, Blaise focused again. "It seems like it's coming from the middle of the ground floor..." Something changed, and he looked as if all the blood had left his body.

"Blaise?" Draco pressed.

"Someone just flexed the wards," Blaise whispered. "The Death Eaters are inside the guardhouse."

"There's a direct path to there from here," Ginny said. "But it'll be swarming with Death Eaters."

Draco clenched his jaw. "Any other options?"

About to shake her head, Ginny stopped herself. "The high-security area. We head that way, then rejoin this hall in the middle."

"Hopefully catching the Death Eaters on an unprotected side," Draco finished, to her nod of agreement. "Be careful, Death Eaters are guarding this entrance."

Ginny flexed her grip on her wand. "I'll take point. Blaise, cover me, and I'll try to clear a path."

Blaise nodded as Draco's heart clenched. While pinned down under light cover, taking point was as dangerous as it could get. But as their best Auror, Ginny was the obvious choice. “We’ll be right behind you,” he barely managed.

“Protego Maxima,” Blaise cast on her. The moment the shield was around her, Ginny rolled through the opening. Two different spells blasted at her path. Both missed -- barely. She ended behind a crate on the other side, firing off a quick shot. It missed, but exploded the short wall the Death Eaters had been hiding behind.

“Now!” Draco commanded.

The other six members of Slytherin Squad poured from the outpost. The two Death Eaters never stood a chance. A shot each from Daphne and Warrington dropped them like sacks of flour. They shared a quick high-five.

As he looked at the cells surrounding him, a growing dread filled Draco’s stomach. He’d walked these same halls when he came here with Hermione. Now, every single cell door hung open, the cells gaping vacantly.

“How many Death Eaters does this mean we’ll be facing?” he asked Ginny.

She grimaced. “Up to sixty. Hopefully Harry got my Patronus and can send reinforcements, but no guarantee.”

“Then we hold the island until he can.” Draco tried to sound confident as lead filled his stomach. If they faced the full sixty, Slytherin Squad would be nothing more than glorified blood-stains. Even with every Auror reinforcing them, they couldn't match those numbers.

Ginny nodded, and he could see the same fears gnawing at her. The rest of the squad peeled off momentarily, scouting ahead.

Still holding his wand, Draco touched his fingers to her wrist. “We’ll be ok,” he whispered with certainty he didn’t feel.

But Ginny snorted. “Those would be terrible last words. We both know Aurors die.” A genuine smile lit her face. “But I think I love you, and that’s enough.”

Draco squeezed her hand, knowing they didn’t have time for more. “I love you too much. Don’t you dare die on me, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”

She chuckled as they jogged to catch up with the squad. “I’ll try my best, Captain.”

Blaise, who had obviously seen their exchange, didn’t even give a snarky remark. His own free hand laced through Daphne’s. “Battle sounds are coming from that corner up ahead. Are we ready to engage?”

“How are the wards holding?” Draco asked.

Blaise grimaced. “They’ve flexed again. I’m not the one holding up the wards, so I can’t tell much beyond that.”

Draco nodded. “Then let’s move out.”

Silently, Slytherin Squad crept toward the corner. Blaise’s shield hummed at the front of the group. Once they rounded the corner, the Death Eaters would have clean shots at the team. The stark halls of Azkaban were not built to provide cover, but to let Dementors do all the dirty work. No battle fought in its corridors would be pretty.

Theo not-so-subtly shifted closer to Ginny. She chuckled. “I got your back, Theo.”

Goyle frowned, looking ahead to the approaching corner. “Do you think my dad is out?”

Draco nodded. “Undoubtedly.”

The large Auror swallowed. “Try not to hurt him, yeah? He’ll be… ok in a cell.”

“We’ll do our best,” Draco answered honestly.

They paused at the corner. The dim light of Azkaban kept them from seeing anything ahead, but the sound of curses smashing off of walls sounded close by. At Draco’s nod, the seven of Slytherin Squad flooded into the side hallway.

Four Death Eaters waited at the other end. One turned, spotting them. Shock froze on his face as Ginny blasted him down. The other three Death Eaters turned, wands firing. Their shots bounced off Blaise’s shield. Blaise grimaced at the strain. One whistled, calling more Death Eaters. A shot from Daphne stopped him mid-whistle. The one next to him fell alongside.

The last Death Eater fell at Draco’s wand, and he quickly gestured the team forward. They sprinted down the little hall, turning into the main corridor--

A horde of Death Eaters stood grinning, waiting for them. Draco quickly backpedaled, casting his own feeble shield. Behind the Death Eaters, even more waited, their backs to Slytherin Squad as they focused on taking down the guardhouse in the middle of the open square. The guardhouse was the hub of all Azkaban, other hallways radiating like spokes off of the open square surrounding it. Death Eaters filled many of the spokes. Not the full sixty, not yet, but nearly thirty -- and growing.

Macnair stepped forward, far too pleased. “What a surprise, they actually have the guts to face us. Don’t worry, little Malfoy, your daddy’ll greet you in person once he’s dropped the wards.”

If they stalled, Lucius could break the wards. Only fifteen faced them, a fraction of what waited beyond. Draco paused, weighing the benefits. Aurors were better fighters than Death Eaters, but fifteen vs seven weren’t odds he wanted to calculate. Over Macnair’s shoulder, he spotted a spell shooting from the guardhouse. Hope lit inside Draco’s chest. At least someone was alive in the building.

“Stupefy!” Draco shot. Macnair dodged, but another fell behind him. Slytherin Squad had to get to that Auror and the safety of the guardhouse. It was the only way either had a chance of lasting till Harry.

A volley of fire exploded from the Death Eaters. One final spell bounced off Blaise’s shield before it dropped. Slytherin Squad twisted and dodged. Theo yelped as a spell burned his shoulder.

A maniacal grin lit Macnair’s face. “Nott! Your whelp came back!”

Draco frantically tried to block and fire as the Death Eater numbers overwhelmed them. To his left, Daphne and Blaise held their ground, while Goyle fought harder than Draco had ever seen. To his right, Ginny and Warrington gave better than they got, and Theo shot off spells as quickly as he could manage them.

Nott Sr. shoved his way through the ranks of Death Eaters. His eyes hardened as they fell upon his son. “Traitor!” he roared, face contorting in anger. “Avada Kedavra!”

Theo stumbled backwards, tripping onto his back. The green bolt smashed through where he’d been, pockmarking the stone above his head.

“Face me like a man!” Nott bellowed. “Get off the ground, you sniveling infant!”

But Theo shook like a leaf. It was all he could do to just keep holding his wand.

Ginny stepped in front of Theo. Fury rolled off her in waves. An explosion burst at her feet, singeing her, but still she held her ground. A hex blasted from her wand. Nott staggered backwards to dodge. Before he regained his balance, still another flew at him. It clipped his arm. Steam rose from the wound.

Growling, Nott fired back. Ginny deflected it high into the wall. The concrete bubbled where it hit. He shot again. Ginny flicked it into the Death Eaters. One fell, clutching at his oozing face.

“This is a family matter,” Nott snarled. He shot again, and again Ginny deflected it. “Stand aside.”

“Not a chance.” Fire flashed in her eyes. “Aurors protect their own.”

All around them, Slytherin Squad still fought. Macnair fired volley after volley of hexes. Draco engaged him, deflecting as many as he could. Spells from Macnair would be deadly, and his teammates weren’t good at dodging.

“Avada Kedavra!” Macnair screamed. Daphne ducked. The green bolt smashed into the wall behind her. She fought on, but her wand shook between her fingers.

“Look at him!” Nott snarled, gesturing at his son. Theo, eyes wide with terror, still lay on the ground behind Ginny. “He’s a pathetic excuse, even for an Auror!”

Nott fired off more curses, and Ginny strained to deflect them. Her opponent was a battle-hardened Death Eater with decades of experience, and it showed.

Suddenly, Nott grinned. It was a terrifying sight. “I’m guessing your shield’s weak, Weasley, or you would have used it by now. Dodge this, and it hits him. Crucio!”

He was right. And since Unforgivables wouldn’t deflect, Ginny could only brace herself for the pain.

“Protego!” Theo’s shield around her held. The red bolt dissipated against it.

"YOU!” Nott’s face twisted with rage. “This is the last time you defy me, you worthless--”

“Confringo!” Ginny yelled. The blast exploded in Nott’s face. He stumbled back to escape. Ginny advanced, not letting the Death Eater breathe for a second. She fired off another spell. “He’s.” Ginny growled, batting Nott’s hex aside. “Your.” Nott ducked as she aimed for his face. “SON!” she roared. Her spell smashed into his chest, throwing him twenty feet into the wall behind. Nott hit with a resounding crack and crumpled unnaturally onto the ground.

Shakily, Theo tried to stand. “Is he…”

“Yes. I’m sorry.” Ginny pulled Theo to his feet. Immediately, she jumped back into battle.

Theo’s face crumpled. Valiantly, he held back tears while still trying to fight.

“He tried to kill you, mate,” Warrington offered sagely between non-verbal spells. “That’s a shit father.”

Theo’s face hardened, a cold fury stealing over it. A spell burst from his wand, knocking a Death Eater off his feet. “That’s for my mother, you bastards!”

Slytherin Squad fought hard, but they were still hopelessly outnumbered. “The ward’s coming down any minute now!” Blaise declared, sweat dripping off of him.

Macnair looked at Nott’s crumpled body with growing rage.

“Remind you of anyone?” Draco snarled, firing a non-verbal curse at his ex-teammate. “Richard Murstow, perhaps?”

Macnair dodged easily, deadly force waiting behind his lowered wand. “Not at all. Your old Captain died like a cur, simpering and begging us to spare his mudblood wife and child.”

Draco’s wand shook in rage. He fired off another bolt without warning, but Macnair batted it aside.

The Death Eater chuckled as the battle raged around him, still not bothering to return fire at Draco. “We let Murstow watch as we pulled the blood from his body, leaving a pretty message for his precious mudbloods.”

Draco's face contorted with fury. "How long before his trust broke? How long before he realized letting you join Slytherin Squad would be the last thing he ever did?"

Macnair's grin only widened. "Far too long. The idiot trusted us up until the very end."

"Yes," Draco ground out. "He gambled his life on you. That you were his friend, that you would have his back, that you were worth fighting for. How foolish of him."

“Avada Kedavra!” Macnair screamed.

Draco spun, throwing himself to the side. The spell whizzed by.

Another spell shot from Macnair's wand and again Draco dodged. In close succession, a blue bolt screamed past. He couldn’t dodge that one. It clipped Draco’s leg, throwing him to the floor. He tried to stand, but the leg collapsed. Macnair laughed as Draco struggled to his knees.

Watching Draco strain, Macnair’s grin widened. “Let’s give you another present while you’re down.” Ominously, Macnair’s wand rose to point at his own Dark Mark. He waited, savoring the moment. “Crucio.”

Pain shot from Draco’s arm, radiating through his body. It was all he could do to keep from screaming. Memories of Voldemort rose unbidden as Draco hunched against the ground. All those years of torture, and this was every bit as bad.

Macnair laughed even louder, enjoying himself. “Go on, plead, boy. Beg for your life and the lives of your teammates. I’d hear it before you die.”

Pain shot through him again. Protectively, he clutched his left arm to his chest, hoping desperately for anything to make the pain stop. It was only Macnair’s sense of amusement that kept the other Death Eaters from firing on Draco while he was so vulnerable.

“Protego Maxima!” Blaise threw the shield around Draco, straining with the effort.

Macnair only laughed harder. “No shield can keep out the Dark Mark!”

On either side of their crippled Captain, Slytherin Squad targeted Macnair.

Instantly, a shield surrounded Macnair from his supporting Death Eaters. He smiled. “You learn a thing or two as an Auror.”

The squad’s spells bounced harmlessly off the thick shield. While they shot, the Death Eaters returned fire. A Cruciatus hit Warrington. He dropped, writhing.

Draco had protected the team from Macnair’s spells. With him still hunched against the ground, unable to move through the pain, the Death Eater took potshots. Goyle yelped as a slicing spell grazed his arm. Warrington struggled to his feet only to be blasted back by another spell.

Macnair’s shields were too thick for Ginny to get through. Her eyes narrowed, knowing there was only one thing she could do. Mustering every ounce of magic and hatred at Macnair, she yelled, “Avada Kedavra!”

The sickly green bolt screamed from her wand. It blasted through his shield like tissue paper…

But Macnair simply stepped aside.

Macnair’s movement bought Draco a moment free from pain. Clarity returned slowly. What Macnair could do with the Dark Mark was exactly what Voldemort had done but… he shouldn’t be able to do that.

Macnair raised his wand to his arm again.

“Not my Captain, you don’t,” Daphne snarled. Spell after spell shot from her wand in rapid succession. They were only jinxes, but Macnair couldn’t risk that they weren’t. His wand flicked wildly to keep up with deflecting them. It left him no time to shield.

As the rest of the Squad battled the other Death Eaters, Ginny fought for breath. No one had warned her how taxing the Killing Curse was. It made sense, or else Death Eaters would never use any curse but that. Unlike Death Eaters though, Ginny wasn’t used to the drain. While recovering her magic, powerful spells lay far beyond her grasp. She struggled just to cast jinxes.

Next to her, Draco struggled back to his knees. Macnair shouldn’t be able to do that, he kept thinking. But his pain-addled brain couldn’t answer the next question: then how was Macnair doing it?

Slowly, he worked it through. Voldemort had controlled the Dark Marks. Voldemort was dead. The Dark Marks were back. Now Macnair controlled the Dark Marks? That couldn’t be right. Theo said Lucius brought the Marks back, and only Lucius had the skill to do it. So if control of the Marks passed through succession, it would be to Lucius, not Macnair.

A spell slammed into Theo, knocking him off his feet. With labored breathing, he stood, weakly returning fire.

The answer suddenly came to Draco, the violent noise of the combat fading away with his revelation. If Macnair could use the Dark Mark, that meant anyone could.

The squad fought Macnair, but Daphne’s spells slowed and Blaise’s shield thinned with each curse it absorbed. Death Eaters had dropped, but more replaced them every second.

Focusing on Macnair, Draco raised his wand to his own Dark Mark. “Crucio.”

An unearthly scream ripped from Macnair. His Death Eaters threw up more shields, but just like he’d said -- no shield could stop the Dark Mark.

“For Murstow!” Draco yelled, levelling his wand at the still-writhing Macnair. “Avada Kedavra!”

Macnair dropped, and moved no more.

“The ward’s about to fall, Draco!” Blaise yelled. “30 seconds!”

Dozens of Death Eaters still fought on, utterly blocking their way to the guard building. The Auror inside hadn’t fired spells in a while. Hopefully, that meant he was exhausted and not that he was dead.

Explosions sounded from some distance away off to their left. “That’s Harry!” Ginny cried. “From the Apparition point!”

The crowd of Death Eaters surged as some broke off to join the fighting at the Apparition point. Draco saw their chance among the confusion. “Move, NOW!” he shouted. “Get to the guardhouse!”

Slytherin Squad shoved the ranks of Death Eaters back as they poured forward. They’d be dangerously encircled, but it was their only chance of keeping the prisoners on the island. As long as they could keep the wards up, the prisoners would stay captured.

Draco tried to stand, collapsing back down as his leg refused to support him. The squad ran forward as he’d commanded, leaving him helplessly behind.

A strong grip hoisted Draco to his feet. Goyle threw Draco’s free arm over his broad shoulders as they hobbled after the squad. Ginny hung back, deflecting curses from Draco and Goyle.

There was one thing he could do to help as Goyle dragged him along and Ginny kept them safe. Draco turned his wand again to his forearm. He was exhausted and the spell would disperse, but every bit would help. Focusing on every Death Eater in sight, Draco again cast, “Crucio.”

The Death Eaters stumbled back as his Aurors ran on. Their disorientation wouldn’t last long, but hopefully it would be enough for Slytherin Squad to get inside the guard building.

The Death Eaters began firing again as they ran. A red bolt clipped Ginny in the side. She stumbled, barely keeping up with the hobbling Draco and Goyle. Her old wound throbbed with every step. Gritting her teeth, she charged on.

Harry rushed in from the other side of the open square, five Aurors trailing him. Death Eaters poured toward the new arrivals. The guardhouse was only a few more yards ahead of Slytherin Squad, and they pushed recklessly toward it.

Death Eaters turned, firing shots. A shield sprung from Blaise’s wand, but not in time. Daphne cried out as a curse hit. Blaise caught her, keeping her moving as Warrington returned fire. His aim swung high while running. Both his shots missed.

Blaise blasted the guard door open.

Inside, eight Death Eaters crouched behind the cover of blasted tables and overturned couches. It only covered them from the far end of the room, leaving them completely exposed to Slytherin Squad.

The squad poured inside the building, taking shots at the unprotected Death Eaters. One Death Eater fell. The rest cast shields, slinking deeper into cover. Spells fired from the opposite end of the room, and Draco realized what they’d been hiding from.

“Ron!” Ginny yelled happily, firing spells with fury as her magic returned. So he’d been the trapped Auror.

“Hit ‘em hard, Gin!” Ron yelled back. “I can’t hold out much longer!”

One Death Eater, safely hidden in the farthest corner, didn’t bother fighting back. With the rest of the squad engaged, Draco turned to him with cold dread. Dirty blond hair spilled down the Death Eater’s back as the wards flexed beneath his wand. Over his shoulder, Lucius turned to Draco with narrowed eyes. “Hello, son.”

“Target Lucius!” Draco yelled. “He’s taking down the wards!” But every member of the team already fought for their lives as it was.

Shakily, Draco raised his wand. Barely a drop of magic remained in him. Perhaps enough for a Stupefy, but he wasn’t sure. “Step away from the wards, Father.”

But Lucius only smiled. “Do shoot me, Draco. I’ll treasure the memory for the rest of my life.”

Draco’s spell caught behind his lips, refusing to fully form. “I will… if I... if I have to.”

The ward rippled, flexing again beneath his father’s wand. “I’m waiting.”

Theo stepped in front of Draco. “You’re a terrible father!” he yelled, firing off a Stunner. Lucius batted it aside. Angry tears burned at Theo’s eyes. “No one should want to fight their own son!”

Another hex burst from Theo’s wand, forcing Lucius to shield. Draco’s heart sank. His father’s shield was even thicker than Blaise could cast. And unlike the squad, Lucius was far from exhausted.

The other Death Eaters fired off shots. Draco and Goyle could only cower behind an overturned table. With barely enough magic left for a single spell, Draco had to make it count. He thought vainly of the Dark Mark, but nothing he was capable of casting would get through it.

Even while shielded, Lucius’s wand hovered over the wards, flexing them further.

Ginny targeted the wall of the shack behind him. “Reducto!”

It exploded in splinters.

Reflexively, Lucius flinched away from the blast. He took a step away from his protected corner.

“Avada Kedavra!” Ron yelled. The green bolt screamed across the entire building. It ripped through Lucius’ thick shield, slamming into his back. The light left his father’s eyes. He sunk bonelessly to the floor.

Draco would never forget the sight. Desperately, he shoved it aside, trying to focus on keeping his squad -- and himself -- alive.

The Death Eaters paused to watch their leader fall.

In the hesitation, Blaise lunged for the ward. Daphne sunk to the ground by Blaise’s side. It was all she could do to maintain a shield around the two of them. Her head lolled to one side, her eyes blinking blearily as she fought to just stay awake.

“The ward’s still falling!” Blaise shouted. “I’m only slowing it down!”

“Keep slowing it, then!” Draco yelled. “Just keep them here!”

Sweating profusely, Ginny struggled to twist away from spells. A stray bolt knocked her to the ground. She didn’t get up. Draco’s heart thudded against his chest. She had to be alright.

The door burst open. Draco spun, still leaning on Goyle. Harry rushed through, his five Aurors hot on his heels.

He dropped to the floor next to Blaise, placing his wand against the ward. “Authorization code Lemon Drops 3255!”

The ward hummed, growing louder. It grew and grew until across the island, prisoners and Aurors alike flinched away from the noise, their hands over their ears. Once it was deafeningly loud, it popped.

The wards hummed at full strength.

Silence reigned as the Death Eaters struggled with what to do next. Blaise let out a relieved sigh. The few Death Eaters still in the guard shack hid.

Draco seized his chance, crawling to Ginny’s side. “Rennervate,” he breathed, daring to hope.

She winced, groggily coming to. “We’re alive?”

Draco crushed the redhead to him. “So far.”

Ginny wheezed at the pressure. Hastily, he let her go. She chuckled at him. “Just some sort of Stunner. I’ll be alright in a bit.”

Harry placed his wand tip against his throat. “Attention Death Eaters,” his voice boomed across the island. “This is Harry James Potter, commanding the full might of the Aurors. Anyone we find outside their cell will be summarily executed. Anyone still inside their cell will have their sentence reduced by half. Your choice.”

Draco passed a critical eye over the five bloodied and battle weary Aurors Harry had brought with him. “Full might of the Aurors?”

Harry shrugged, a grin slipping through. “No reason for the Death Eaters to know that. And Tonks is bringing the rest as they secure the Ministry.”

The four remaining Death Eaters in the shack dropped their wands and raised their empty hands in surrender. Ron pocketed their wands, pushing the four in front of him at wand point. “Get a move on, you louts,” Ron snarled. They went where prodded unprotestingly.

Ginny turned to Harry. “Hermione? Are the rest ok?”

Ron nodded, answering in Harry’s stead. “Shacklebolt got her to the hospital when the War Room fell. I ran here. She should be alright.”

Ginny and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Reluctantly, Draco turned to Harry. “We have injured, but the rest of my squad can help you sweep the island.” Not to mention, Draco had already used the last of his magic.

A silver wolf jogged up to Harry. “Blocks A and E stand secure,” Tonks’ voice came through her Patronus. “Goyle's dad and others are waiting nicely inside their cells. Apparate over when you can.”

Gratefully, Goyle sank against the wall. Draco smiled. At least one father was safe. It was good to know that it was a deserving one.

Harry chuckled. “You don’t have to do everything, Malfoy.” Draco flinched back as Harry tapped him with his wand. “You have ward clearance now. Apparate them out.”

“I…” Draco cleared his throat around the uncomfortable words. He would rather not admit that he couldn’t Apparate a flobberworm across a table right now, let alone an entire squad across an ocean. “I’d splinch them,” he said instead.

Blaise smiled warmly, laying a hand on his Captain’s shoulder. “Allow me.”

Nothing had sounded so good to Draco in a lifetime. One by one, his squad put a hand on their Captain. With a pop, Slytherin Squad Disapparated.

Draco and Daphne managed to get beds next to each other in St. Mungo's. The rest of Slytherin Squad stood vigil. A swarm of Healers descended on the others, examining them just to be sure. After poking and prodding, the Healers discovered that Warrington was hiding a major gash, Theo was singed, Goyle was slashed, and Ginny's side had definitely reopened. Much to everyone’s annoyance, Theo, Warrington, Goyle, and Ginny were admitted as well.

Ginny’s nemesis of a Healer even came by to make sure she actually stayed in her bed, with admonishing words for disobeying her orders and battling Dark Wizards. Grumbling about the fate of the Wizarding World hanging in the balance, Ginny complied.

Morning dawned bright and early as Blaise watched over the injured team. It made sense that the Auror with the strongest shield was the only one who hadn’t been injured, but still, he took pride in his accomplishment. It wasn’t often that he got to lord something over the entire rest of the squad.

Ginny wasted no time throwing off her own sheets and finding her shoes. “It's not like they haven't healed my side before,” she muttered, pulling her boots on. “No need for all this fuss.”

Blaise chuckled. “Some people like fuss.” He gestured toward the side table, where piles of flowers waited, a stack of get well cards spilling onto the floor.

She raised an eyebrow. “For us?”

He shrugged. “Well, half of them are from some sort of Weasley, but for the most part, yes.”

Daphne sat up, rubbing her head. “Where am I? Everything feels all fuzzy.”

In an instant Blaise was at her side, filling her in on all the details.

One by one, the rest of the team came to, in varying degrees of wellness. Once they were all awake, Ginny’s least favorite Healer came by, her stern look slightly softened. “The Minister of Magic Flooed over, asking Slytherin Squad to report in as soon as they were able. I can tell him to wait--”

Instantly, they scrambled out of bed, tugging on shoes and hunting for their Auror robes.

The Healer cast a withering glare at Ginny. “They would be your squad, wouldn’t they?”

Ginny positively beamed back at her. “I wouldn’t have any other.”

The Minister of Magic’s office had to suffice in place of the War Room, which was still undergoing repairs. It was a deceptively large room, with a whole conference table and a dozen chairs fitting in front of his desk. Wide windows behind the desk looked down several stories onto the streets of Muggle London.

Kingsley, Hermione, Harry, and Ron stood as Slytherin Squad entered. Harry didn’t seem much worse for the wear, but a partially-healed gash glistened across Ron’s drawn face, and Hermione’s arm hung in a sling.

“Thank you for coming,” Kingsley greeted them evenly, and everyone took their seats. The Slytherins sat with some trepidation. Theo seemed particularly uneasy, and when Ginny remembered his last meeting, she instantly understood why.

“We lost ten Aurors last night,” Hermione started bluntly.

Draco winced. “The Azkaban squad.”

But Hermione shook her head. “Only nine of the Azkaban squad. One fell at the Ministry, as the Death Eaters snuck in.”

A frown creased Ginny’s face. “Then what about the tenth member of the Azkaban squad? Wasn’t Ron fighting alone?”

“I was,” Ron replied tersely. “The tenth bastard had a large sum transferred from a Malfoy vault to one of his in Bolivia. Two guesses where he’s disappeared to.”

“My mother and I weren’t involved with that,” Draco gritted out. “I warned you my father was bribing someone.”

Hermione held up a hand to stall the Slytherin’s anger. “We know. And Goyle’s father, the Death Eater, volunteered to take Veritaserum to reduce his Azkaban sentence even further.”

Goyle lit up at that, but remained silent.

Harry scrubbed a hand through his hair. “The traitor of an Auror apparently slipped Lucius a wand so that he could resurface the Dark Mark. And slipped him a charmed mirror to communicate with the outside world.”

Theo shuddered. “We found that one.”

“And helped the Death Eaters break into Azkaban,” Hermione added darkly. “If he ever sets foot in Britain, I’ll--” she cut off viciously, shaking her head. “It won’t be nice.”

“So that was the mole?” Ginny asked. “That doesn’t make sense though. The Azkaban squad hadn’t rotated in, so he wouldn’t have had contact with the other senior squads.”

Harry grinned. “Hermione was the mole on the senior squads.”

The Head of the DMLE groaned, dropping her head into her one working hand. “I asked you not to say it like that!”

Blaise raised an eyebrow, turning to the woman in question as the sanest one. “Then how would you put it, Hermione?”

Raising her head, a grimace plastered across Hermione’s face. “The secretary in a coma who was Polyjuiced to look like me went around to the different squads, drilling them on their mission parameters, ‘to make sure they knew them well enough’.”

Ron grunted. “Not a single Auror suspected a thing. Of course Hermione would drill them a million times on everything they already knew.”

Draco’s eyebrows felt like they were about to fly off of his face. “So you’re saying this whole time, there wasn’t ever a mole on the senior squads?”

Hermione shook her head proudly. “They were every inch the competent, trustworthy Aurors we knew them to be.”

Blaise snorted. “Looks like we’re out of a job, then.”

“Did…” Theo started, trailing off awkwardly. “Were there any deaths, you know… among the prisoners?”

Harry nodded, respectfully keeping his face solemn. “Your father was killed, Theo. As were Macnair and Lucius, and a handful of others. We’re releasing the list later today, if you’re interested.”

Theo flopped back in his chair, taking a deep, steadying breath. “No, that’s alright. I’ll be ok.”

Hermione tried a compassionate smile. “In better news, the three Aurors your squad saved from the Jugson manor look like they’ll make it after all. Goyle’s dad told us what they were tortured with, and they’re finally getting better.”

Goyle sat up even straighter, smiling proudly.

“The Dementors?” Daphne asked. “They’re all gone?”

Harry shrugged. “Driven off for now, at least. I don’t know if they’ll ever be gone, but hopefully they’ll find a better place to locate to, full of Dark Wizards to torment.”

“Or just fade away,” Hermione lectured, as if it were a long-standing argument. “If Dementors can breed, they can’t be entirely unkillable, or else the whole world would be overrun with them.”

Harry turned to Slytherin Squad, clearly looking to stop Hermione’s lecture before it could gather steam. “Now it’s your turn. What happened on your side of the Azkaban raid?”

Draco sighed, settling in for the long story.

After they’d finished recounting every single detail, Shacklebolt stood. “If that’s everything, I have another meeting to prepare for.”

Taking the cue, Slytherin Squad stood as well. Draco’s leg gave out, and he only barely grabbed the back of his chair in time to keep anyone from noticing.

“We will be requiring your attendance again at 2 o’clock in the Trial Room,” Hermione said. “Please arrive promptly, if not before, and in your formal Auror Dress Robes.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “Well, doesn’t that sound ominous.”

Harry chuckled. “It should.”

Unwillingly crammed into their formal robes, Slytherin Squad fidgeted outside the doors into the Trial Room.

“It really seems a waste to get us all fancied up just to put us on trial,” Daphne frowned, trying to get Blaise’s obstinate collar to lie flat.

Draco sat in a chair off to the side of the waiting room, preserving his limited ability to stand.

Warrington and Goyle had pulled a deck from Merlin-knew-where and were playing Exploding Snap off to the other side. They’d probably end up singed and more disheveled than they already were, but Draco was in no mood to mother them.

“Just relax, Theo,” Ginny tried to soothe the stressed Auror. She looked impeccably professional in the navy blue robes piped with gold. “It’ll be a formal debriefing in front of the Wizengamot, that’s all. No one’s in trouble.”

Theo nodded too vigorously, trying to pretend he believed her, and fooling no one.

Ginny finally abandoned him as a lost cause and walked over to Draco. “How’s the leg?” she asked.

Her Captain shrugged. “Healer says I’ll be back to normal soon enough, but that doesn’t make it any more fun to stand on right now.”

Ginny eyed a suspicious looking cane sticking out of the wastebasket. “I take it that was yours?”

“I’m not using a cane,” Draco growled. “That Healer can stick it up his--” he cut off, fuming.

Ginny chuckled. “Better than collapsing in front of the entire Wizengamot, at least?”

He scowled as ferociously as his face could manage. “I’ll try to time it right. Might even get a sympathy vote out of it.”

She stubbornly raised a single eyebrow. “Because that won’t make headlines.”

“No more than ‘Draco Malfoy with a Cane’ will make a cover photo,” he fumed.

Ginny dropped into the chair next to him. “You could always lean on me,” she said softly. “My Healer declared me fit for duty.”

Draco chuckled. “Your Healer was too scared to do otherwise. Sooner or later they’ll stop treating you at all, you know.”

Patiently, she waited for his real response.

Draco let out a sigh. “That sounds like a fair compromise, actually. And one I wouldn’t mind plastered across the top of whatever slanderous article they manage to conjure up.”

The doors opened, two Aurors walking in to escort the squad.

Goyle and Warrington hastily stood, shoving the cards into their pockets. With horror, Daphne took in the disastrous state of their robes. Two quick spells muttered under her breath did the trick, as the burn marks vanished, their robes creasing themselves, much to the boys’ dismay.

Ginny stood, offering Draco her hand. “Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he grumbled, taking it. His leg already protested, but wrapping an arm around Ginny helped take the strain off.

One of the Aurors pulled out a scroll, reading woodenly off of it, “Please line up as follows: Gregory Goyle, Cassius Warrington--”

Ginny looked shocked. “Cassius? Wow, wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“--Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Charms Expert Blaise Zabini, Lieutenant Ginevra Weasley, and Captain Draco Malfoy.”

Slytherin Squad formed the line, Ginny and Draco obstinately standing together at the back. Daphne leaned around Blaise to look at Ginny. “Ginevra, huh?”

Playfully, Ginny wrinkled her nose. “It’s nice for formal occasions! Using it anywhere else would make me want to puke.”

Daphne laughed, leaning back into line.

Slowly, their line moved out. Beyond the open doors loomed the central pit of the trial room. Only this time, the solitary chair covered in chains was nowhere to be seen. A stand broad enough for the whole team awaited them.

The moment Goyle crossed through the doors and into the view of the room, the applause began. It startled him, nearly making him stop dead in his tracks. Only a small prod from Warrington kept him moving.

Draco couldn’t believe his ears. As it was finally Ginny and his turn to enter the room, he looked up into the stands in awe. The full Wizengamot crammed solemnly into their usual seats, but the spectators in the benches on either side cheered wildly.

“Draco,” Ginny gasped. “Look at our stand.”

As Goyle and Warrington mounted the steps, moving formally into place at the far end of the raised block, Draco finally examined it. It was dark green, but cornered and lined in gold. Like their Quidditch uniforms had been, he realized. Whether the gold represented the Aurors or Gryffindor, he couldn’t care less. Both were perfect.

The squad mounted the steps, filing to either side as Draco and Ginny ended in the center.

To their astonishment, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic, followed them up the stairs. He turned out to the gathered audience, who hushed at a simple gesture.

“We are here,” he intoned broadly, “to honor the bravery of Britain’s unsung heroes. This very day, you would be facing a Third Great Wizarding War had not these fearless Aurors, the Ministry’s finest, stepped up to hold back the tide of evil -- at whatever the cost."

Kingsley turned to look in Draco’s flabbergasted face. The nod he gave the Captain conveyed the deepest gratitude. “When they went to Azkaban,” Kingsley continued, turning back to the crowd, “they knew reinforcements were in short supply, and Death Eaters were running rampant. They knew they would face friends, family, even fathers on the other side of their wands. But most importantly, they knew they were the only hope the Wizarding World had of remaining safe from the fear and tyranny a fresh onslaught of Death Eaters would bring.”

The Minister opened a box, medals gleaming brightly from inside. Draco felt like he was about to collapse. For once, his bad leg had nothing to do with it. “It is my greatest privilege,” Kingsley continued, starting with Goyle, “to award Aurors Gregory Goyle, Cassius Warrington, and Daphne Greengrass with the Order of Merlin, Second Class for their outstanding spellwork, bravery, and raw determination in the Battle of Azkaban. Without you three, your team would have fallen.” He moved down the line, pinning the medal on each of them, to the applause of the crowd. Daphne clapped her hand to her face, desperately fighting back tears.

The Minister passed Ginny and Draco, stopping at Theo on the far end. “It is my privilege to present the Order of Merlin, Second Class to Auror Theodore Nott, along with the Crest of Espionage.” Theo’s mouth fell open, dumbstruck, as Kingsley continued. “It is thanks to the guts and nerve of this man that five captured Aurors are here with us today. And it is nothing short of his inside information that gave this squad what they needed to head to Azkaban and stop the Death Eaters in their tracks.”

Theo was definitely crying as his medal was pinned, even stroking his Crest of Espionage unbelievingly as Kingsley walked on.

“To Auror Blaise Zabini, I present the Order of Merlin, Second Class, along with the Goshawk Charms Award, First Degree.” Kingsley smiled. “It is rare to see such intricate knowledge of wards used so exceptionally under the pressure of battle. Without you, Azkaban’s wards would have fallen, and today, we would be witnessing the trail of destruction left by the escaped Death Eaters. Slytherin Squad should count itself honored to have such talent.”

“It does,” Blaise quipped. Scattered chuckles echoed through the crowd. Kingsley himself fought back a smile.

The Minister paused, looking a girl he knew quite well in the eyes. “To Lieutenant Ginevra Weasley, the Wizengamot and I present the Order of Merlin, First Class.” Ginny gasped audibly. “For her bravery, spellwork, and fearsome refusal to sit by as evil grows. For her willingness to work with unusual teammates and protect them at the risk of her own life. For her instrumental role in shaping one of the Ministry’s finest Auror squads, we proudly give this highest honor to you.”

Ginny managed a smile, barely, through the sheer overwhelming wave of emotions washing over her.

Kingsley moved on, to the last person in the line. Draco braced himself, guessing what was coming, but the anticipation still rubbed his nerves raw.

Knowing the anxiety this ceremony would cause, Kingsley gave Draco a reassuring smile. “And to Captain Draco Malfoy, the Wizengamot and I present the Order of Merlin, First Class.” Draco clutched Ginny to him tighter, afraid he really would fall over. A wry smile stole across the Minister’s face. “To the unexpected Captain of the unexpected squad. To the man who, with the help of the others you see standing here, managed to find, catch, and route every remaining Death Eater in Britain. It is thanks to his leadership, foresight, and sheer nerve that he led his squad to what might very well have been their deaths, and instead saved us all. To you and your Slytherin Squad, the Heroes of Azkaban, we give our highest thanks.”

As the Minister bowed, the crowds behind him exploded. Even the Wizengamot, sitting sedately among their rows, clapped discreetly. Finally, Draco got a good look into the crowds. His heart caught in his throat as he spotted his mother, alternating between holding a handkerchief to her eyes and clapping wildly. A few rows down, Snape even clapped for the squad, giving Draco a smirk when he caught his ex-student watching.

“Aww, look,” Ginny whispered discreetly to Draco. “Our parents are sitting only a few seats apart. How long do you reckon before they notice and try to move to the other side of the room?”

“No bet,” Draco replied wryly. As the cheering died down, Narcissa surreptitiously joined Snape two rows below her.

Blaise leaned toward Ginny from the other side. "One of the Ministry's finest Auror squads, huh? How long do you think we can fool them?"

The Slytherin Squad Lieutenant grinned. "I guess we get to find out."

The crowd in the stands dispersed to join the squad in the area below. The seven Aurors of Slytherin Squad milled through the masses of people. High ranking Ministry officials, reporters, and just plain curious witches and wizards all gathered around in interest to hear the Slytherin Squad retelling of the Battle of Azkaban. Among the crowd, the horde of redheads stood out from miles away. Grinning, Ginny headed towards them.

Her mother nearly broke Ginny’s ribs as she crushed her daughter to her. “Order of Merlin! That’s the third in the family!”

Ginny chuckled, difficult to do while struggling for air. “Thanks, Mum,” she replied wryly. Once again the surrealness of being a Weasley struck her, that the highest award in the land was reduced to the equivalent of earning her Prefect’s badge. It wouldn’t be long before her mother scolded Fred and George for not being in the Order of Merlin as well.

After her mother had finished with her, Ron clapped his sister on the shoulder. “Congrats, Gin. It’s high time you joined the rest of us.”

Playfully, she shoved him off. “Where were you during the ceremony, ickle Ronnikins? Could have sworn you were in Slytherin Squad too.”

He shrugged easily. “Being under a Captain’s not my style. And especially not him.” Ginny punched her brother in the arm. Ron threw his hands up defensively. “Alright, your boyfriend wasn’t all bad, I admit. But I’m glad to be on my own again. They’re holding my award ceremony separately anyway, since I acted on my own in the battle.”

Any further conversation was lost as the twins ambushed Ginny in a double bear hug. “Little sister!” Fred cheered, hefting her off the ground between him and George. “Little sister killed big bad Death Eaters!” George finished.

“I’ve killed Death Eaters before!” Ginny protested, smushed between the aggressive affection of her two brothers.

George shrugged. “But now you’re a hero.” He dropped her, staring intently into her face. “How’s it feel to be officially a hero, Gin?”

Fred crossed his arms across his twin’s back. “Tell us, Gin, we wouldn’t know.” Ginny rolled her eyes at two of the biggest heroes of the Battle of Hogwarts.

“I sense a need for some adult supervision here.” Hermione walked over, beaming fondly at her husband, brothers-in-law, and sister-in-law. “They’re harassing you, of course?”

Ginny grinned at her best friend. “I wouldn’t recognize them if they weren’t.”

One side of Hermione's Auror robes dangled loosely, hiding the sling underneath. “I never heard how badly you got hurt,” Ginny realized. “Seeing your blood in the War Room panicked all of us.”

Hermione shrugged with her good shoulder. “I took a few hits when the Death Eaters stormed the War Room. Nothing St. Mungo’s couldn’t handle, but it was serious.”

Ron snorted. “Don’t let her kid you. Every Death Eater targeted her when they charged in. It was all Kingsley could do to get her out in time. And I barely managed to Apparate to Azkaban ahead of them.”

Hermione sighed. “Nine Aurors died because we couldn’t hold the War Room. I don’t think I’ll forget that.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Really, Hermione? You, Ron, and Kingsley against twenty Death Eaters? I'm glad you have realistic expectations."

Fred threw an arm around his wife. “It’s a good thing she has you to talk sense into her. She keeps ignoring me.”

“Speaking of ignoring,” George interjected, “isn’t that your darling Captain being swarmed by reporters?”

Ginny followed his gaze. Earlier, Draco had spotted a lone chair against the wall, claiming it eagerly. Now, reporters encircled him, cornering him in it while they pressed for answers. She could barely spot him through the crowd.

“Not again,” Ginny sighed. “I’ll be back.”

As she shoved through the milling masses, reporters turned to her instead. “Miss Weasley! How was Azkaban? We hear Slytherin Squad was brave in the fight?”

“The bravest,” she replied tersely, not slowing for a second. “Minister Shacklebolt said it better than I ever could. Excuse me.”

At the center of the crowd, Draco sat stiffly in his chair, utterly overwhelmed, and holding out as best he could manage. “No, no one got out,” he replied for what sounded like the tenth time. “Yes, we killed multiple Death Eaters in the process.” Spotting Ginny, his entire body drained in relief.

A smirk twitched at her lips. “Urgent squad business, Captain. You’re needed elsewhere.”

“Thank Merlin,” he muttered under his breath. “Lead on, Lieutenant,” he said for the reporters.

With an awkward combination of her helping hand and Draco tripping over his own leg, they managed to hoist him to his feet while only looking clumsy, instead of crippled.

The reporters safely redirected to Hermione, Ron, and the Weasley clan. Good, Ginny thought with a smirk. There were enough Weasleys to go around. It didn't take long for Fred and George to turn it into a promotional opportunity for Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, with the reporters laughing riotously.

“Large families seem to come in handy occasionally,” Draco remarked dryly.

Ginny laughed. “They’re good for making clean escapes, if that’s what you mean. Although I perfected that when I was three.”

Narcissa Malfoy waited in front of them, her hands clasped dignifiedly on top of her elegant robes. Giving up all pretense of composure, she threw her arms around her son, nearly smacking Ginny in the process. “I’m so proud of you!” Narcissa cried into his shoulder.

He wrapped an arm around her, returning the hug. “Father’s dead,” he said softly.

“I know.” She pulled away to hold him at arm's length. “We’ll deal with that later.” Proud tears pricked at Narcissa’s eyes over her smile. “Today is for you. My son, in the Order of Merlin.”

Blaise and Daphne sauntered over, Theo tagging along with nowhere better to be. “First Class, I might add,” Blaise cut in, his arm around Daphne’s shoulders. “Not Second Class like the rest of us tossers.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You’ve got better things to complain about than getting only the second highest award in the land.”

Blaise grinned. “Not me. I love complaining.”

Daphne smacked a hand across his chest. “Highest Charms award, darling. Some of us just got the second highest award in the land, so do shut up.”

He shrugged, a terrible mockery of modesty. “True.”

Narcissa looked proudly over her son’s teammates. “You all earned every medal ten times over, I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” Daphne replied honestly. “But if I never set foot on Azkaban again, it’ll still be too soon.” She craned her neck, searching through the crowds. “Oh look, my parents made it! Even Astoria! Come on, let’s go rub our medals in her deserter face.”

Gleefully, she and Blaise ran off. Theo stayed awkwardly behind, scuffing a foot against the ground and not saying a word.

Narcissa turned to him. “Are your--” She cut off at the horrified realization. Theo would never again have parents attend any honor awarded, large or small. Instead, Narcissa hid her pity behind the most motherly smile imaginable. “Theo, dear, I heard what the others did to earn their medals, but I haven’t heard the story behind your Crest of Espionage. Can you tell me, or is that still classified?”

Instantly, he brightened. “I was Slytherin Squad’s double agent inside the Death Eaters. Blaise and Goyle wouldn’t have made it back from being captured without me.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened, genuinely impressed. “That sounds incredibly difficult.”

“It was,” Theo stated proudly. “I had to keep them safe from hundreds of Dementors too.”

Now Narcissa’s face turned incredulous, and Draco had to laugh. “He’s not exaggerating. There really were hundreds of Dementors.” He wasn’t sure how much ‘keeping safe’ Theo had actually done, but wouldn’t be surprised if he had. “Glad to have a master spy on the team,” he couldn’t resist adding.

Theo blushed, recognizing the joke. “Thanks,” he replied weakly.

Two attractive girls around Theo’s age walked by, the nearest blonde giving him an approving once-over. “Congrats on the secret agent medal!” she said, smiling broadly.

Stunned shock turned into raw determination as the girls passed. “I’m going to be the best Auror ever,” Theo whispered to himself.

Ginny snorted. “I think she was inviting you to go introduce yourself.”

Without wasting another second, he dashed off after her.

A simple smile on her face, Narcissa turned to Ginny. “You obviously had a hand in all of this.”

Draco let out a burst of laughter. “More than a hand! We’d still be sitting back in our training room, resenting the prejudice of the Aurors if it hadn’t been for her. Not just because she integrated,” he quickly clarified, “but because she pushed us, and refused to settle for a squad that was anything less than the best.” A playful grin crossed his face as he looked down at the redhead his arm was wrapped around. “Or a lazy Captain. You keep me on my toes, Lieutenant.”

Ginny grinned up at him. “Good. You’re an excellent Captain, with me around to keep you in line.”

Narcissa smiled at the couple, full of happiness Ginny had never expected to see. Maybe an Order of Merlin worked wonders for a mother’s approval. Whatever it was, Ginny just hoped it lasted.

“I see you’ve earned yourself a medal,” Snape drawled from behind them. Instantly, Ginny and Draco turned, taking in their old teacher. Still in his dark black robes, they at least weren’t greasy or spotted as he’d tried to look more formal for the occasion. “Anytime one of the Heroes of Azkaban,” Snape said the phrase with a sarcastic twist of his mouth, “wants to become Slytherin’s Head of House, please do, so I can finally retire.”

Ginny nodded. “Sounds good. I accept.”

Snape chuckled, not expecting her humor. “You know, Draco, you’re the first Slytherin recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class.” He raised an eyebrow. “I expect at least a yearly guest lecture out of you.”

Draco stood stunned. He had not known. “Alright,” he barely managed through the daunting revelation.

The Potions Master inclined his head in farewell and departed through the crowds.

Ginny turned to look at Draco. “First Slytherin, huh?”

“I hadn’t the faintest idea,” he whispered.

THE HEROES OF AZKABAN, the headline proudly declared their new title. Below it stood a picture of Slytherin Squad as they’d been during their ceremony: the members of the squad arrayed on either side as their Captain stood in the middle, his arm proudly around their Lieutenant.

“‘We are here to honor the bravery of Britain’s unsung heroes,’ Minister Shacklebolt announced just yesterday,” Daphne read aloud from the article. “And honor them he did. It seems a second battle for our very way of life was fought without anyone even knowing it. Reports are still coming in that the once infamous, now famous, Slytherin Squad, as they call themselves, has been silently waging war with the very heart of evil itself.” Daphne paused, giving a significant look to Blaise, Draco, and Ginny, intently listening around her.

“Read on,” Draco growled. “Don’t insist on reading it first and then stop halfway.”

She chuckled, complying. “It started over half a year ago, with the death of their late Captain, Richard Murstow, targeted by Death Eaters for showing redemption-seeking Slytherins another way to prove themselves. A way, as Slytherin Squad has shown us, that didn’t require they take a Dark Mark.”

“Hey look,” Blaise commented unhelpfully. “They even forgot you have one, Draco!”

Daphne giggled, reading on. “Led by their Captain, Draco Malfoy, an ex-Death Eater himself--”

“Too soon, Blaise,” Ginny snorted.

“Shut up, all of you!” their Captain snapped. Daphne raised an eyebrow. “Obviously except Daphne,” he amended, rolling his eyes.

With an overly gracious nod, Daphne continued. “Led by an ex-Death Eater himself, if the unquestionable victories of this strange squad don’t prove once and for all that people can change, nothing ever will. In a world torn by the divisive strife created by pure-blood elitism, nothing is as soothing a balm to that wound as Slytherin Squad. Comprised of exclusively pure-blood members (including the media darling, Ginny Weasley, as most forget), they have nevertheless shown unwavering loyalty to the Ministry and protection of wizards of every kind. As Minister Shacklebolt put it, when this squad fearlessly ventured to Azkaban, ‘they knew they would face friends, family, even fathers on the other side of their wands.’ Yet not for one moment did that stop them. I would venture to say they showed MORE courage and bravery in this one act than we have seen since the final days of Voldemort himself.”

Blaise whistled. “Can we hire this reporter permanently?”

Daphne ignored her boyfriend. “And I am not alone in this opinion,” she read on. “When I hear my fellow colleagues speak of the Heroes of Azkaban, they do so with the utmost admiration. To us, in our comfortable, everyday lives, it is an unthinkable prospect to face down friends and family we have known since the cradle. To say, at the point of a wand if need be, that enough is enough to people you once trusted. After receiving nothing but distrust and prejudice from the Wizarding World, Slytherin Squad has gone on to save us all. To these heroes, I add my thanks to Minister Shacklebolt’s. For what they have done and risked, there is no possible repayment.”

All four of them sat silently in Draco’s living room. Only the newspaper crinkled as Daphne avidly reread it.

A stunned look lingered on Blaise’s face. “They clearly don’t like us much,” he drawled, to break the silence.

Daphne frowned, not bothering to look up from the article. “Below the article, the reporter adds, ‘Lieutenant Ginny Weasley confirms: a non-pureblood member is the next step for Slytherin Squad. Rumors of who is in the running on page 8.’”

As one, all three Slytherins swiveled to look at their Gryffindor Lieutenant. Ginny smirked at their discomfort. “Well it is, isn’t it?”

A frown formed across Draco’s face. “That… shouldn’t be a problem,” he replied, surprising himself. He looked to Blaise and Daphne. “Anyone know why that would be a problem?”

Blaise shrugged. Daphne flipped through to page 8. “Just make sure they’re not prettier than me, or a better Auror. I like being on the upper end of the team, thank you very much.” She said it with a firm nod, proudly starting the list. As she read it, her jaw fell open. “This is every well-known Auror serving right now.” Reading further, she added in a stunned whisper, “And some that are retired.”

Ginny nodded proudly. “Owls have already started coming in, letting me know they’ll accept if we offer.”

Blaise chuckled at his girlfriend. “Looks like you’ll have to stay on the upper end through actual effort.”

Daphne’s face fell even further as she looked at the list. “Not her, she’s gorgeous!”

Draco turned to his Lieutenant. “Any recommends?”

“Nope!” Ginny grinned proudly at her team. “I’d recommend we pick the best one, and hope they happen to be muggle-born or a Hufflepuff.”

“A Hufflepuff!” Blaise’s face twisted in revulsion. With a sigh, he relented. “And I thought my trials and tribulations would cease after suffering through a Weasley. Two of them, even.”

Laughing, Ginny stood. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.”

The four of them Apparated to Diagon Alley, strolling amiably through its crowded streets. As they passed by, occasionally a wizard would stop to stare.

“Not this already,” Draco growled, hobbling along next to Ginny. “I thought Azkaban would have earned us a day’s break, at least.”

“Excuse me?” A hesitant voice came from behind them. Puzzled, the Aurors stopped, turning to see what it was. A girl, young enough to have just started Hogwarts when they had been leaving, fiddled self-consciously with the hem of her sleeves.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” she barely managed, blushing to the roots of her hair.

“You’re very welcome,” Ginny said for her teammates, who were stunned into silence.

The four stopped Aurors drew further attention as even more people spotted them. A slight crowd gathered at the edges of the street, respectfully keeping their distance, but making sure to nudge their friends and point out the Aurors.

A young man ventured forward, his face twitching as he held back tears. “My mum was on the Azkaban squad. I know you couldn’t save her, but it means the world that you didn’t let her death be for nothing.”

One by one, he shook hands with the four members of Slytherin Squad. No one could manage a response to that.

Even more people came forward, making sure Slytherin Squad heard their personal, heartfelt thanks. Food stood forgotten as the Aurors who had dared hope to be simply accepted learned that they had become so much more.

In the days following, life returned mostly to normal. Wizards stopped approaching Slytherin Squad on the street to sob their gratefulness. The squad was quite ready for this. There were only so many times you could emotionally handle strangers interrupting your errands with their undying gratitude before your smile started to look worn.

Draco demolished the wards around Malfoy Manor. He was done with surprises from beyond the grave. With the help of Blaise and Bill Weasley, he built new ones. Nothing could be as strong as Voldemort’s handiwork, but second-best had never looked more appealing. Some things came with too high a cost.

Once Ginny's human dignity required she move out of Daphne's home, she bought herself a nice little flat outside Diagon Alley. On the Wizarding side, this time. Even this distance was too much, and it didn’t take long for Draco to propose. Overjoyed, Ginny, of course, accepted. Witch Weekly went wild, posting article after article about their new favorite couple.

Ginny and Draco started preparations for a small, intimate wedding, with just their closest friends and family. Narcissa heard wind of these plans, and promptly flung them out the window. She refused to give her son anything but the grandest wedding the Wizarding World had ever seen. Horrified at the idea of such a media circus, the couple put their foot down. Narcissa reluctantly settled for a small, elegant affair and delighted in planning far too much of it. His mother flourished under the attention, surprising both Draco and Ginny as she became the couple's fiercest defender.

Ginny and Draco attended many further gatherings at the Burrow. It soon became a pleasure, as the Weasleys did what Weasleys do best, and welcomed him wholeheartedly. Blaise and Daphne even came occasionally, and Draco discovered a long-forgotten cousin in Nymphadora Tonks. Large families could be a burden (and often were), but Draco, raised as an only child, found himself secretly loving it.

Draco made good on his word, visiting Snape every so-often to speak to the next generation of Slytherins. Snape could spot the rotten eggs in the bunch with the practiced ease of a teacher. Most were too far gone, but any he and Draco stopped from following the path they had taken were counted as the highest victory by both men.

It would be lying to say no one ever thought poorly of the Slytherin team again.

But when they did, it was because the Slytherins had earned it.

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first of September was crisp and golden as an apple, and as the little family bobbed across the rumbling road toward the great sooty station, the fumes of car exhausts and the breath of pedestrians sparkled like cobwebs in the cold air. Three large cages rattled on top of the laden trolleys the children were pushing; the owls inside them hooted indignantly, and the redheaded boy trailed fearfully behind his sisters, clutching his father’s arm.

“You’ll be alright,” Draco told him. “Everyone’s a first year once, even Lux and Cassie.”

“They weren’t nervous,” sniffed Scorpius. “They got detention on their first day.”

“Don’t be like them,” his father said wearily. “One set of twins is enough for the Headmistress to handle at any given time.”

The commuters stared curiously at the owls as the family wove its way toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Cassie’s voice drifted back to Draco over the surrounding clamor; his daughters had resumed the discussion they had started back at the Manor.

“I think Scorpius will get chewed up in Slytherin,” Cassie remarked slyly to her sister, making sure their brother could overhear.

Lux giggled, her matching blonde ponytail swinging in time with her twin sister’s. “The Sorting Hat said it took a great lot of bravery for us to break the Malfoy curse. He’s not smart enough for Ravenclaw, think he could slither his way into Hufflepuff?”

Scorpius sidled closer to his father protectively.

“Girls, enough,” Ginny said. “Leave your brother in peace for a single day.”

“I wasn’t even talking to him,” Cassie tried to look innocent. “Lux and I can’t wonder which house he’ll get sorted into?”

But the twins caught their mother’s eye and fell silent. The five Malfoys approached the barrier. With a teasing look over their shoulders at their younger brother, the twins broke into a run, their trolleys bouncing in front of them. A moment later, they had vanished.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” Scorpius asked his parents immediately, capitalizing on the momentary absence of his sisters.

“Every day, if you want us to,” said Ginny.

“Your grandmother Malfoy will even send you sweets, if you ask nicely,” Draco added.

Scorpius looked up at his father in puzzlement. “Lux and Cassie said she only sent shriveled frog legs.”

Draco chuckled. “She sent me fresh cookies every morning while I was at school. I know for a fact your grandmother won’t settle for anything less with her beloved grandchildren.”

“And don’t believe everything the twins tell you,” Ginny added, her eyes twinkling in amusement. “They’ll have you believe there’s still a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets and that it eats naughty children for dinner.”

Their son looked far too relieved. “There’s not?”

Ginny laughed, leaning into Draco as he wrapped an arm around her. “Did you know I was there when Harry killed it? If you ask nicely, Professor Lupin might even take you down there on a field trip. I know he took Lux and Cassie's class last year.”

A petulant look crossed the youngest Malfoy's face, knowing his sisters had lied to him. “How do you know?”

“They wrote home quite frequently,” Draco replied, far too amused. “Although I doubt they’d let you know any of that.”

Scorpius scowled down at his trolley, the betrayal only increasing.

“Come on, honey,” Ginny said with a smile. Side-by-side they pushed his trolley forward, gathering speed as it shot toward the wall. As they reached the barrier, Scorpius winced, but no collision came. Instead, the family emerged onto platform nine and three-quarters, which was obscured by thick white steam that poured from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures swarmed through the mist, into which the twins had already disappeared.

“Where are they?” asked Scorpius anxiously, peering at the hazy forms they passed as they made their way down the platform.

“We’ll find them,” Ginny reassured him.

But the vapor was dense, and it was difficult to make out anybody’s faces. Detached from their owners, voices sounded unnaturally loud. Draco thought he heard Percy discoursing loudly on broomstick regulations, and was quite glad to walk on by. All three of his children were bringing their own Firebolts in their first year. No regulation could stop him. If Harry Potter played Quidditch as a first year, then it wouldn’t stop any Malfoy. Although, he recognized in a pang of realism, if the twins hadn’t been good enough to make use of their brooms, he highly doubted poor Scorpius would. Even a proud father had to step back and realize crippling nightmares filled with Bludgers did not make for a promising Quidditch career.

“I think that’s them, Scorpius,” said Ginny suddenly.

A group of four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only came into focus when Draco, Ginny and Scorpius had drawn right up to them.

“Hi,” said Scorpius, sounding immensely relieved.

Rose, who was already wearing her brand-new Hogwarts robes, beamed at him.

“Kept the twins out of trouble so far?” Fred asked Draco. A proud gleam filled their uncle’s eyes.

“Unsure,” Draco replied. The usual dread hit him, that the twins were being far too absent to be up to anything good. “No thanks to your influence, that’s for sure.”

Fred grinned broadly. “You can’t say you expected anything different. Just wait till next year, when they can visit our shop down in Hogsmeade. We’ll make sure no twins related to us are ever short on pranking materials.”

“Oh joy,” Draco replied dryly. “Every father’s dream.”

Ginny overheard him while talking to Hermione. “Draco, it’s the twins. They have a legacy to uphold!”

“Uphold it with their own children!” he growled. “If I get another detention slip in the mail today, I’m holding you personally responsible.” He pointed a stern finger at his brother-in-law.

Hermione turned to him, her face completely solemn. “We know you take your position on the Board of Governors seriously, Draco. So seriously that you’d never have sent your own children to Hogwarts with contraband brooms.”

Ginny burst into a fit of giggles, desperately hiding it behind a hand.

Draco cleared his throat, trying to retain his dignity.

“And I bet you learned your lesson with the first two,” Hermione continued, her solemn look cracking as her eyes twinkled, “and would never have sent your third child to Hogwarts with the same thing that got the first two got in trouble.”

“Ginny,” he turned to his wife. “We need to bring up that idiotic first-year-brooms rule at the next board meeting. I think it’s high time it was abolished.”

His wife bravely fought her laughter down. “Duly noted.”

Off to the side, Scorpius and Rose quietly talked amongst themselves. Rose’s younger brother, Hugo, tried to join in, but ended up mostly listening to the two older children.

The steam thinned for a moment, and Harry pushed a trolley through, his stress leaving at the sight of the familiar faces. “Worried we wouldn’t make it,” he said with a grin, turning to Ron, who’d followed him through. “But we know how that goes, don’t we?”

Hermione sighed. “Then Luna would just take them. There’s no need to be dramatic.”

A young blonde girl hung back behind Harry’s legs as their mother, Luna, brought their two older sons forward. She knelt down, staring the younger one intently in the face. “Albus Lysander, there’s no need to worry. If anyone ever makes fun of you, or you need anything at all, you can always come visit me by the Forbidden Forest. The thestrals would love to see you again, and even Buckbeak will come say hello.”

But the boy’s face wrinkled in disgust. “I can’t go running to my mom! That’s for babies!”

“Albus,” Harry said lecturingly, “What have we mentioned about going places discreetly?”

The boy’s face instantly brightened. “Oh yeah! The cloa--” He cut off, knowing better than to finish that word.

“Speaking of contraband items, Potter,” Draco drawled. “Surely such a prestigious parent as yourself wouldn’t be encouraging rule-breaking?”

Harry snorted. “That’s a laugh, with the stories Luna tells about your daughters.”

“Pick your fights, darling,” Ginny smiled at her husband. “Fred and George are still trying to get Lux and Cassie to break their detention record.”

Draco’s head shot up in horror. “They’re what?!”

Fred looked innocently off to the side, whistling to himself.

“Did you know,” Luna said distractedly, “that I noticed Castor and Pollux Malfoy in the owlery last year, trying to attach a toilet seat to their two owls? They ran off when I came over to investigate, so I never found out what for.”

Fred’s beaming smile nearly split his face. “Those little darlings. They said they tried to send George and me a present!”

Ginny sighed wearily. “No, Luna, we didn’t know.”

Ron laughed at his sister’s pain. “Now you know what our mum went through, only with four more in addition to your one Scorpius!”

“Speaking of obnoxious pains,” a witch’s voice drawled. Draco and Ginny turned. Daphne strode through the mist, Lux and Cassie levitating in front of her wand. “Do these two belong to anyone? Or should we ship them off to the Americas and be done with them?”

An identical sigh escaped both of their parents. “What have they done now?” Draco asked.

Blaise appeared from behind Daphne, dragging a smudged boy the twins’ age along with him. With his mother’s wide, dark eyes, a flawless olive complexion, and Blaise’s training, the newest Zabini had all the makings of an insufferable heartbreaker.

“They got Altais with the third dungbomb,” Blaise explained dryly.

Daphne dropped the spell, and the twins instantly scampered back into the mist, giggling all the while. Altais chased after them. “I’ll get you back!” he yelled after them through the fog.

Blaise shook his head, tsking. “Your twins have got to learn subtlety, Draco. Their mother taught them too much Gryffindor stupidity to balance out your Slytherin cunning.”

Amused, Ginny raised an eyebrow at her friend. “You do realize they’re in Gryffindor, don’t you?”

Blaise nodded with mock sympathy. “Not one, but two Gryffindor Malfoys. How it must pain you.”

Daphne smirked, hand on her cocked hip. “We can’t all have perfect Slytherin heirs, now can we?”

Instinctively, Draco turned to look at his own son. Scorpius’s red hair stuck out even from where he stood across the platform, freckles darkening as something Rose said made him blush a brilliant red. No, his precious timid boy was not cut from a Slytherin cloth, and Draco wasn’t blind enough to miss that. “Snape’ll still look out for him.” A raw edge came to his voice as he said it, and Ginny put a hand on his arm.

“As will Lupin, Luna, and Neville,” she added, smiling at her husband’s concern. “He’ll be alright.”

“More than alright,” Blaise snorted. “Those twins of yours have threatened every second-year who even thought of teasing him.”

A dangerous note entered Draco’s voice. “And who thought of teasing him? Surely he hasn’t made enemies before his first day.”

Daphne shrugged apologetically. “It may have been our Altais.”

“A harmless hazing ritual, you understand,” Blaise quickly clarified.

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “If he hazes my son, I will mail the twins’ detention slips straight to you for you to sign and send back to McGonagall.”

“And I will buy them all the dungbombs they could ever want,” Draco added. “And congratulate myself on having raised such excellent Gryffindors for daughters.”

Blaise laughed. “And I will hand deliver the signed detentions to McGonagall myself.”

Ginny’s eyebrows rose. “You’re taking her up on the offer?”

He grinned proudly. “Time to do something with my retired-Auror self, and when a position with ‘Charms’ on it opened up, who was I to say no?”

Daphne giggled. “We haven’t told Altais yet. We’re waiting for his horrified expression as he walks into Flitwick’s old classroom and gets the surprise of his life.”

Ginny snickered. “Oh, that’ll be priceless. I’ll make sure the twins tell us all about it.”

Draco smiled. “Ever think about going back into the field, Daphne? Slytherin Squad’s decidedly lacking in Slytherins these days.”

She laughed easily. “You know, I just might. I need something to do with myself while Blaise is off pretending to be a teacher. Ask me again in two weeks when I’m feeling bored.”

Ginny glanced up at the clock. “It’s nearly eleven; we better make sure they’re onboard.”

Blaise snorted. “I wouldn’t bother with the twins. My bet is they’re already rigging the Prefect’s cabin with some sort of nasty surprise.”

Draco sighed, agreeing with his friend. Instead, they walked to where Scorpius waited with the Weasleys. Their son ran over to his parents, giving them each a last hug. As Draco loaded his son’s trunk onto the train, Ginny felt a small tug at her sleeve.

Curious, she bent down, looking into Scorpius’s worried face. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“What if I’m in Slytherin?”

The whisper was for his mother alone, and Ginny knew that only the moment of departure could have forced Scorpius to reveal how great and sincere that fear was.

Ginny looked at her son in puzzlement. “Your father, Blaise and Daphne, even Theo, are all Slytherins. What else is going on, Scorpius?”

He looked ashamed as he scuffed his foot at the ground. “Uncle Ron jokes about how they put up with Dad and the others. There’s something... wrong with wanting to be a Slytherin, isn’t there? With being ambitious and cunning?”

His mother looked at him with heartbreaking love, putting a hand on his thin shoulder. “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy. Look at your Aunt Hermione. Do you think being a Gryffindor means she’s not smart?”

“No,” he instantly answered.

“Or hardworking?”

“No.”

“Or even ambitious? As the youngest Head of the DMLE in ages?”

“No,” he answered hesitantly, unsure what his mother was driving at.

“It just means that she prizes bravery higher than all the rest.” Ginny smiled. “So if you want to be in Slytherin, you go for it. And let your ambition make you the kindest, bravest, smartest Slytherin that House has ever known.”

Scorpius looked up into his mother’s face with a grin. “Thanks.”

Draco stepped off the train, wiping his hands, as his wife stood, giving her son one last hug.

“We’ll see you at Christmas!” Ginny called as Scorpius jumped onto the carriage. “Give Neville our love!”

Doors slammed all along the scarlet train, and the blurred outlines of parents were swarming forward for final kisses, last-minute reminders.

“Have you seen Cassie and Lux?” Draco asked Ginny. “I couldn’t spot them anywhere.”

“I know they’re independent, but this is getting ridiculous,” Ginny agreed.

Right on cue, matching blonde heads leaned out of the train. Soot stains marred their Malfoy features, but their parents wisely chose to ignore these, settling for good-bye hugs instead.

“Look out for your brother,” Draco told them seriously. “You’ve already terrified him enough to last a century.”

Each girl nodded solemnly. “We will, Father,” Cassie said.

“No matter what House he gets put into,” Lux added.

“And if Altais steps out of line…” Ginny grinned at her girls. “Well, you know what to do.”

Cassie and Lux shared a devious smile, glad to have their parents on their side.

“I’ll give you three galleons each for every week I don’t get a detention slip sent home,” Draco added.

Their faces instantly fell. “But Dad,” Cassie complained. “Pranking’s half the fun of school!”

“And not getting caught is the other half,” Draco replied.

Lux groaned. “Professor Lupin always knows how to get us! You’ve no idea how difficult he is.”

Ginny laughed. “Ask Professor Lupin about the Marauders when you get him alone. I guarantee you’ll enjoy it.”

The train began to move, and Ginny and Draco walked alongside it, watching their children’s faces, already ablaze with devious new ideas. Scorpius stuck his head out at the last, excitedly joining his sisters in waving goodbye. Ginny kept smiling and waving, even though it was like a little bereavement, watching their children glide away from them.

The last trace of steam evaporated in the autumn air as the train rounded a final corner.

“They’ll be alright,” murmured Draco. “Think Scorpius will make Hufflepuff, or will we get all Gryffindors?”

Ginny leaned against her husband, grinning a secretive smile. “I’ll wait till I read his letter. Right now, I haven’t the faintest idea.”

Her husband raised an eyebrow. “Something he said to you before getting on the train?”

She nodded. “Seems he’s been scared stiff of a certain House all this time.”

Draco frowned, not understanding.

“Slytherin, dear,” Ginny clarified with amusement. “Blame Lux and Cassie’s propaganda all you want, but my bet says you and Blaise managed to scare him off ages ago.”

He sighed in resignation. “A houseful of Gryffindor Malfoys it is, then.”

That evening, tapping at their window shot Draco and Ginny to their feet. Ginny hurried to the window, opening it for Scorpius’s distinctive eagle-owl. Draco carefully took the parchment tied to its leg, unrolling it as if it were a sacred scroll. The message was brief, and scrawled in familiar unsteady handwriting:

            Dear Mum and Dad,

I’m in Slytherin. Altais is being very nice, and it’s making me worried. I think Cassie may have threatened him. I helped a Hufflepuff find their frog, and Professor Longbottom gave me the weirdest look. I’ll be the kindest, bravest, smartest Slytherin ever. Just you wait.

            Scorpius H. Malfoy