Unfortunately, the night air hadn’t gotten any warmer. If anything, it was even colder than before. Unusual weather for the middle of the summer…it had to be the Dementors. Ginny shivered at the mere thought of them, huddling into her cloak and gripping her broomstick so tightly that her knuckles went white. Or rather, Malfoy’s broomstick--it wasn’t like he was using it, and it was so much faster than the Cleansweep she’d taken the liberty of borrowing from Ron. She and Luna had made an odd sort of hamper for Malfoy that Ginny had seen Charlie make once. It made for awkward flying, but it was a small sacrifice to pay if they wanted to keep this mission a secret.

Ginny shivered again and glanced at Malfoy; he sat calmly, unaffected by the cold. She could see him staring back at her, his silver eyes glittering in the scarce moonlight.

“Unlike some people, I was smart enough to have Warming Charms placed on my very expensive cloak,” he said, as though reading her mind. A slight sneer played around his lips.

She bit back an angry retort. It would only make him happier, she reminded herself.

“So this is what you were trying to distract me from,” he said.

Ginny raised an eyebrow delicately, but still maintained her silence.

“Oh, come now, do you really think I’m that stupid?” he sneered. “Wait, don’t even answer that. It was so obvious you were trying to distract me back at your…house, if you can even call it that.”

Ginny started. How did he know?

“Most of the time you just avoid me,” he replied, “when you sought me out right away I knew something had to be going on. Not only that, but you were so obvious it was painful to watch.” It wasn’t until much later that Ginny realized she had not asked the question aloud.

She remained silent, her brown eyes contemplating.

“Why are you saving him, Weasley? I heard he dumped you. So what was it then? Glory? Think that maybe if you rescue him, he’ll fall in love with you or something?”

The remark hit so close to home that it hurt. Why was she doing this? She had been so sure she and Harry were perfect for each other… but she’d also known Harry would do this to her. But it didn’t make it hurt any less. Not that she was going to tell Malfoy that. “Why must you be so cynical, Malfoy? Can’t your thick head get around the fact that some people, people who actually have hearts, just do these things because it’s the right thing to do?” she said scathingly, irritated that he could make her question herself so quickly.

“So it’s because you want him to fall in love with you,” he said, his lip curling in disdain.

Ginny wasn’t in the mood to analyze her feelings for Harry right now, especially not with Malfoy playing her Dr. Phil. She turned to Luna instead. “How much longer?” she asked.

“Oh, another few hours I expect, provided we don’t run into any Billywigs or Chufflies,” Luna replied.

“Any what?” asked Draco in alarm.

Ginny jumped at the opportunity to make her enemy squirm. “Well Billywigs are great blue insects that can cause insanity, and Chufflies are just some friendly man-eating fire-breathing bird-dwarf hybrids.”

“Bird-goblin hybrids, actually,” corrected Luna.

“Right, of course,” Ginny said, cheered up considerably.

After which Draco rolled on to his stomach and didn’t say another word for the rest of the flight.
____________________

“For the last time, Harry Potter, I don’t know why there aren’t any Death Eaters around!” Mr. Ollivander said. They had been running around the castle for a good fifteen minutes without having met any obstacles at all. Well, no obstacles other than the simple fact that they were hopelessly lost. Harry was feeling uneasy with the lack of Death Eaters and assassination attempts. He did not hesitate in conveying this uneasiness to Mr. Ollivander, yet again.

“It’s a trap, I’m telling you, sir.”

“Yes, that’s right. They released us, their prisoners, just so they could capture us again,” said Mr. Ollivander, really annoyed this time.

“I don’t know! It’s Voldemort we’re talking about,” said Harry, throwing up his hands in exasperation and deliberately ignoring Mr. Ollivander’s telltale flinch. “Maybe he fancies people-hunting or some other sick game,” he mused.

Mr. Ollivander had nothing to say to this except to walk faster. The action brought Harry’s attention to the older man’s shoes. Bright red platform loafers, they were obviously the only thing he had on that wasn’t prisoner attire. And they definitely said a lot about his character. Harry snickered, but stopped as his ears picked up a heavy panting behind him.

He turned to the creepy older man. “Do you mind?”

"Oh, of course. Sorry to inconvenience you. I’ll just stop breathing now."

A warm gust of air tickled Harry’s ear. "You’re still doing it!"

"I am not!" said Mr. Ollivander, highly affronted. "I'm right beside you.”

"It must be you, who else would drool--?" Harry broke off with a gasp, turning around slowly. "Holy shit," he breathed.

Mr. Ollivander turned to give him a disapproving stare. "Harry Potter, watch your language. You may have just saved my life but I will not tolerate..." he trailed off as his pale eyes took in the creature before him. It was huge, with the body of a goat, the head of lion, and peeking out from behind it, the very spiky, dangerous tail of a well-armed dragon. “Well, fuck.”

“Told you it was a trap,” Harry said with his eyes still glued on the beast.

“How was I supposed to know they would have a Chimaera? Chimaera eggs are Class A Non-Tradable Goods. This is completely illegal.”

“Right, because we all know Death Eaters are decent, law-abiding citizens,” said Harry sarcastically. He took a hasty step backwards as the thing growled low in its throat, beating its great tail against the ground once, twice, three times. “Er, Mr. Ollivander, I’m not going to pretend I’m an expert on Chimmi-whatsits, but I’m thinking growling and tail-thumping isn’t a good thing…”

Mr. Ollivander’s response was to turn tail and run like hell. Harry was right on his heels. Unfortunately, so was the Chimaera.

____________________

“Hey, I’ve been here before!” said Draco, leaning over dangerously to peer at the great castle below. Ginny secretly hoped he would fall off into the deep blue waters below. But alas, her hopes were dashed as he withdrew back into the safety of the hamper. “My father took me here in the summer of my second year,” he said reminiscently.

Luna looked from the gloomy castle below to Draco and back again. “Your father had a twisted idea of father-son time,” she said matter-of-factly. Ginny nodded her agreement, scarlet curls bouncing and trying not to grin too broadly.

Draco scowled and said, “Whatever. All I’m saying is that your Precious Potter is most certainly going to be down there.”

“Probably,” said Ginny, nodding to Luna. She snapped out of her dreamlike reverie long enough to take her broomstick into a very steep dive, in perfect synchrony with Ginny, towards the heavily fortified castle. They touched the ground, jolting Malfoy around purposely. He let out a string of obscenities before toppling out of the hamper and onto the castle grounds. Ginny rolled him over with the toe of her sneaker, prodding at the skinny blonde to get up. Then she and Luna grabbed the tall blonde by the arms and marched him into Eilean Donan Castle. Heavily fortified or not, even the Scottish sometimes failed to remember to lock their doors.

“Easy as growing your own warts!” said Luna. Ginny had never actually tried that, but she nodded anyways, and then wrinkled her nose at the stench coming from the walls. It smelled like goats. Malfoy seemed unperturbed. Maybe being a smarmy bastard made you immune to this kind of stuff. Then suddenly he stiffened, his eyes narrowing. Had he finally caught a whiff of it?

“What’s that?” he asked.

Ginny squinted into the distance; she couldn’t see a thing. She was about to snap at him for making her strain her eyes, but she paused as she caught sight of Luna standing perfectly still, listening. She finally heard yells and heavy footfalls as two figures ran towards them. The taller, faster figure skidded to a stop before them, doubling over to put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He had a great shock of untidy jet-black hair and round glasses that hid bright green eyes. His forehead was adorned with a lightning shaped scar.

“Fancy meeting you here, Ginny, Luna,” he panted.

“Hello, Harry,” replied Luna. “How are you?”

“Just peachy. Nothing like being kidnapped, imprisoned, and set free by Death Eaters only to be chased after again,” he said sarcastically. “You know, Ginny, this is exactly the kind of thing I was trying to keep you from by breaking up with you. You’re kind of defeating the purpose,” he said.

Ginny fumed silently. How dare he talk about their relationship in front of an audience! She wouldn’t have minded terribly if only Luna had heard, as the girl was so immersed in her own world that she probably wouldn’t even notice, but Malfoy--?

The second figure finally caught up with them, panting heavily. “I think we lost it, Harry Potter.”

“Mr. Ollivander!” cried Ginny.

He peered at her with his moonlike eyes before smiling and rattling out, “Ginny Weasley…hazel and Unicorn hair, ten inches, very resilient, no?”

“Um…yes,” she said, looking puzzled.

He turned to Luna to identify her wand as well. “Ah…I don’t recall you. I assume you didn’t get your wand from me?” He looked suddenly forbidding.

Luna shook her straggly blonde head. “No, Father got mine from Germany. We don’t support embezzlers,” she said.

“Me? An embezzler? But I’ve never embezzled from anyone in my life!”

“Oh, and I suppose the Bowtruckles were embezzling themselves, were they?” she asked frostily.

Mr. Ollivander just stared at her, saved from answering by Draco. “I’d just love to stay and chat all day about nonsensical things, but aren’t we here to do something?” he said testily.

Mr. Ollivander brightened; someone else he could identify! “Hawthorne, twelve inches, wirier than most, correct Mr. Malfoy?”

Harry looked at Malfoy as though noticing him for the first time. His face contorted in loathing as he remembered where he’d last seen Malfoy. Harry had a sudden urge to pummel the Slytherin boy into the ground. “What’s he doing here?” he spat.

“Same thing you are, Potter. I was kidnapped,” he said, throwing a filthy glare in Ginny’s direction.

Harry opened his mouth to berate Ginny for bringing Malfoy, of all people, but suddenly there was a thundering roar, and a huge, fanged, clawed, armored-tailed, thing bounded towards them. Saliva dripped from its fangs.

“Oh my, ” Ginny said faintly, white under her light dusting of freckles.

The Chimaera pounced on Harry first, who shouted and tried to stun it. It gave another great roar at this treatment, shaking its mane. Draco gave a frightened sort of squeak and took off at a run. Ginny, still staring at the Chimaera with wide eyes, shot out an arm to stop him. “No way. You’re going to help us fight this thing whether you like it or not,” she said.

“Only a Gryffindor would be stupid enough to try and fight that,” he said, jabbing a finger in the direction of the Chimaera. He tried to run for it again, but she held him fast. Draco looked at her in desperation. “I’m not the heroic type, Weasley. Really, I was beaten up by Quakers,” he said, tugging even harder as the Chimaera roared again. Draco swore the walls actually. shook Luna shouted something unintelligible, waving her wand, and the thing sprouted antlers.

“Oh, that’ll help,” he said nastily. “Give him another weapon, why don’t you!”

“Whatever, Malfoy. I hid the brooms, and the ropes have Anti-Disapparition charms on them. Leaving us here is just condemning yourself, so you’d be better off just helping us,” she reminded him. He stilled at that, allowing Ginny to run in and help her friends.

Draco didn’t care what she said, there was no way in hell he was going to fight that thing. I’ll just stand here and wait for them to finish it off, he decided.

Mr. Ollivander shouted as the Chimaera clawed the air, clipping him in the shoulder. Blood ran freely, splattering to the ground in great scarlet raindrops.

“Diffindo!” shouted Luna, running around the Chimaera to help Mr. Ollivander. The red beam of light merely bounced off the great beast to hit Draco harmlessly. Or so Draco thought. His ropes suddenly fell to the floor, finally releasing him. Draco immediately began rubbing the circulation back into his limbs, wincing a bit. Those girls could really tie a knot.

Another shrill scream pierced the air, this time from Ginny. She was staring at a bloodied Harry, whom the Chimaera had finally let out from under its sharp hooves. Luna was lying near the wall, unconscious. Mr. Ollivander was nursing his shoulder; it looked like it was dislocated. The only one left standing was Ginny. The Chimaera advanced slowly, growling menacingly. Her wand was half way across the room, nearer to Draco; she’d never get it in time.

Draco hovered uncertainly. A year ago he would have gladly run away as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Now, however, he could feel something keeping him back. It was the same thing that had kept him from killing Dumbledore…compassion. He had long since thought he had none, but it seemed Father hadn’t done as good a job of stamping that business out as he’d initially thought.

Sighing in frustration with this newfound emotion, Draco stooped and picked up the wand, striding towards what was surely his own death. “Hey! Polly want a cracker?” he called, saying whatever first came to mind. The thing froze, looking around to see what made the noise.

Ginny stared at him. “What-are-you-doing?” she hissed.

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” he replied. Then he pointed his wand at the beast’s eyes, shouting, “Conjunctiva!”

The Chimaera staggered around, howling in pain. Ginny screamed as it staggered in her direction. Then, as if in slow motion, it keeled over in a dead faint. Draco looked at the wand in his hands and back at the Chimaera in amazement. “Well spank my ass and call me Sally,” he murmured, “would you look at that!”

Ginny was still screaming, looking in horror at the fallen Chimaera. “Would you calm down?” Draco hissed. “You're not going to let a little near-death experience ruin your mood, are you?”

She stopped screaming only to glare at him. He scowled at the lack of gratitude; he’d just saved the girl’s life, after all. “This is ridiculous, Weasley. Hurry up and ennervate the others so we can get the hell out of this place before that thing wakes up and eats us all.” Ginny complied, but Draco suspected it was only because she was still in shock.

He walked over to the limp form of Harry Potter, and finally felt a swell of pride wash over him. He had finally bested the Boy-Who-Lived! Grinning, Draco nudged his rival’s body with his foot. “Ennervate,” he said cheerily. When Potter only stirred a little bit, Draco started to feel a bit of alarm, finally noticing the pool of blood that was collecting around the boy’s stomach. “Ennervate!” Mumbling.

Ginny walked over. “Luna’s fine, but Mr. Ollivander’s broken his arm. I dunno the spell to mend broken bones, so we just made a makeshift bandage thing. It should hold him out till we get home,” she told Draco. “Why haven’t you woken Harry yet?”

“I can’t,” said Draco.

“Of course you can,” she said irritably. “You point your wand at his chest, wave it a bit, and say ‘Ennervate!’ It’s not that hard.”

“I know how to awaken someone, Weasley,” he snapped. “He just isn’t waking up!”

Ginny stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. “Nonsense,” she said, “you must be doing it wrong. Here, let me try.”

Draco let her push him aside, watching her go through the same motions he had in silence. All she managed to do was slow the bleeding. She pushed her scarlet hair out of her face, eyes filling with tears. “We have to get him home,” she cried. “Now!”

Draco nodded and performed a Levitating Charm, walking away quickly with Harry hovering along. Ginny followed with a revived Luna, and behind them, walking at a much slower came Mr. Ollivander.

The enormity of what Draco had just done hit him then. He’d just helped…Potter! He stumbled a bit and Harry’s head lolled to the side. Draco stared at his childhood enemy in horror. Did this mean he was on the Light Side? He had failed to kill Dumbledore, but still, that hadn’t been a deliberate treason to the Dark Lord. This would surely get him killed.

Ginny caught up with him, putting a small white hand on his arm. He looked at it slowly, then at Weasley’s face, his eyes unreadable. She blushed, thankful for the darkness that hid it from his penetrating gaze, but she did not move her hand.

“Do you think he’ll make it?” she asked quietly.

Draco felt his insides freeze up. Of course, he thought nastily. Of course she wants to talk about Potter. Of course she wasn’t going to thank you for your help. All she cares about is Precious Potter. He wanted to say viciously that the odds didn’t look too good, that he would most surely die, but he didn’t. He looked at her soft brown eyes, pleading to hear a certain answer, and Draco could feel his newfound emotion giving in.

“Of course,” he said, forcing himself to sound detached. “He’s the Boy-Who-Lived. He’ll probably live to the ripe old age of 90 and have dozens of children.”

She smiled, and Draco could feel the resentment spreading like a disease through him, latching onto everything and nearly causing him physical pain. He smiled back.