Draco walked purposefully through the Auror's offices, toward the holding cells, not bothering to acknowledge the people he passed along the way. He burst into the long corridor, and continued until he reached the last cell where Ginevra was being kept.

It was empty.

"You looking for someone, Malfoy?" asked a voice behind him, and he turned slowly to meet Potter's green gaze. "She was asking for you, you know."

He didn't bother asking who the 'she' in question might be, nor did he bother to consider why exactly 'she' would ask for him, of all people. Draco had a task to complete, and by Merlin he was going to get it done. "I assume she's been moved, then?" he asked imperiously, raising one brow.

"For treatment," Harry confirmed, "to the Janus Thickey Ward at St Mungo's."

Draco became very still. The Janus Thickey Ward was where St Mungo's long-term patients were kept - one of the places, anyway, since St Mungo's full time wards were at capacity after the war - and there had been more than a few stories circulating about the treatments that had gone on there... And thanks to all the volunteer work the Malfoys had done for the hospital, he knew the truth better than most.

Without so much as another glance in Potter's direction, he Apparated to St Mungo's, the dizzying rush in his head not entirely due to the Apparition itself.

The second his feet touched the ground he was off, careful to keep to back corridors, though he was confident that the staff were so used to seeing him visiting patients that they wouldn't pay him much mind. It was late evening, but the hospital was busy at all hours, and no one had time to worry about a regular volunteer going about his work.

He skidded to a halt outside the Janus Thickey Ward, conscious of the staff and patients going about their evening. He hastily cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, then slipped inside.

It was quiet - quiet enough that he checked his breathing as he carefully made his way through the beds of damaged witches and wizards. He flinched as he passed a vacant-looking Katie Bell, who had been admitted to the ward shortly after the war began.

Draco pressed on, searching the beds for the Weasley girl, dodging out of the paths of the occasional Healer, until he reached the end of the ward and came up empty handed.

Realisation struck. She must still be undergoing treatment, he thought to himself with a curse.

He paused, unsure of what to do since he could hardly just barge in and grab her. The one and only time an incurably ill patient had escaped the ward, a lot of staff and civilians - wizards and Muggles alike - had been fatally wounded. Weasley's diagnosis would ensure that they were at the top of every hit wizard's list - not a position he had ever aspired to be in.

He'd have to bide his time until they could escape in secret, so the Aurors might be less likely to pin her escape on him and he could come up with a decent alibi in the meantime. His parents would vouch for him, of course, but these days it was always safer for a Malfoy to have the support of the public.

Draco's gaze unwillingly drifted back to where Katie Bell sat on her bed, all but unresponsive to the Healer's attempts to tuck her in. The lights were on but she wasn't home, and he couldn't help but wonder if that was a result of her illness or her treatment. Then his mind wandered back to Ginevra Weasley, and whatever treatment she was being forced to endure... And his mother's desperate plea for his assistance.

He cursed. Draco had said it himself only this morning, and the mantra he had immersed himself in since the ruin of the Malfoy name seemed to reverberate through his skull. I have a job to do, and I plan to do it.

With a scowl, he strode back through the ward and made his way to the treatment facilities for the many mental health wards within the hospital. The corridor was deserted, so he quickly walked past the open rooms until he came to one with a firmly shut door.

He glanced to either end of the corridor to make sure no one would interrupt him. "Defigo," he murmured, locking the door at the end of the hallway, then turned his attention to the door before him. "Homenum revelio." He shivered as the familiar swooping sensation told him that the room was occupied by only a couple of wizards.

Get in, disarm any Healers, grab the girl, get out, he ran through his task mentally as he backed up to the opposite side of the corridor and took a deep breath. Then he charged the closed door and kicked it clean off its hinges.

There was a loud screech as the door swung violently inward, and Draco charged into the room. A quick glance of the relatively empty space showed him that the witch currently backed up against the far wall, clutching a clipboard to her chest for dear life, was the only Healer present. The small room was mostly barren but for a hospital-standard chair and desk in one corner of the room and the examination table where Weasley was strapped down, her body convulsing uncontrollably.

"Stupefy!" he yelled, and the trembling Healer's next screech froze in her throat as the flare of red sparks hit her straight in the chest.

He vaulted over the table and ran to Ginevra's side as the convulsions began to subside. Her eyes swivelled toward him unseeingly, her teeth locked tight around a piece of wood from the pain, and the sight of her made him feel sick to his stomach.

Draco cursed, knowing he'd have to wait for her to ride out the after-effects of her treatment before he could move her, so quickly ran back to the hall to ensure no one had heard them despite knowing the ward was magical and structural soundproofed.

No alarm bells ringing, as far as he could tell, but he was sure that that wouldn't last for long.

He darted back into the room to check on Ginevra. Her body seemed to be twitching slightly, but it seemed that she had regained a semblance of control, for the most part.

"Weasley, I'm going to untie you," he told her, but she didn't respond, though her breath continued heavily.

Scowling, Draco leant over her body, his hand gently cupping her jaw and twisting her neck so that she looked him in the eye. "Ginevra, look at me," he ordered, and much to his surprise, she did. "I'm going to release you." She bobbed her head deliberately, and he removed the warped piece of wood from between her teeth.

Her mouth opened once or twice, but not a single sound escaped her lips. Hoping her voice had only been taken by a simple charm, he pressed his wand to her throat and muttered the only counter curse he knew.

When she did speak, her voice was thick and scratchy as though she'd screamed it raw. "About time," she quipped.

Draco snorted at the remark then quickly went to work on her restraints. "I'm more likely to wring your neck than save it right now, love, so I strongly suggest that you can the attitude."

She scowled at him, but remained silent until she was free.

"Can you walk?" Draco asked her as she shakily got to her feet, but her knees gave way before she could take a step and he flung out an arm to catch her. "That's a resounding 'no,' then."

"I'd like to see what kind of shape you'd be in if you'd just undergone "treatment" for a non-existent medical condition," she told him weakly.

Draco scowled at the redhead. "What did I just tell you?"

She twisted weakly in his arms as though to try and get away from him, though it was more like a half-hearted flop as she shifted her weight. "If you want me to be quiet, then stop asking me questions."

"I like you better mute," he muttered before throwing her over one shoulder, giving her an extra bounce when she shrieked in indignation.

Ginevra thought she was going to be sick; Draco's hurried strides caused her stomach to lurch at every turn.

On the bright side, the view was great from up here, though she was absolutely positive that this Draco wouldn't take things too well if she gave him a slap on his well-rounded ass - and thank god that his posterior was as excellent in this reality as hers, or she might have been of mind to call off the entire wedding.

Except that there wouldn't be a wedding. This Draco wouldn't marry her in a million years, because he didn't love her. Heck, he didn't even like her, she thought with a strangled sob, and the overwhelming nausea pressed at the back of her throat again.

"Hush," Draco hissed at her, bouncing her heavily once more.

Her temper flared. How dare he attempt to boss her around when he didn't love her? "Bounce me one more time and you'll have breakfast down your back," she told him quietly. His shoulder tensed under her abdomen, and she let out a small sigh of relief when his strides evened out slightly, though he didn't slow his pace.

Her stomach rolling significantly less, she managed to twist her head and peer through a curtain of curls at the hall around them. Ginevra hadn't spent a lot of time in St Mungo's - hadn't needed to, since the Malfoys employed a private Healer - so this hall didn't strike her as different from any other part of the hospital she'd visited. Well, at least he seems to know his way around, she thought with a grimace.

Draco suddenly skidded to an abrupt halt, darting into a small alcove and uttering a soft curse.

Ginevra let out a sigh of relief as her insides found a moment to settle, and when she squirmed across his shoulders Draco clenched his arm tighter across her thighs. "What-" she began to ask, but stopped when he cut her off with a quiet 'shush'.

He slowly knelt to the ground, allowing her to slide off his shoulder, and she clutched his arm tightly as she settled back on her feet. When she glanced up at him, he was peering down the hall keenly, as though waiting for something she hadn't seen.

Remembering to remain silent, she squeezed a well-formed bicep once, and he briefly glanced toward her at her questioning expression. He pressed a single finger to her lips, telling her to remain quiet as his other hand reached into his pocket and removed two shrunken items.

Before she could wonder what he was up to, she saw a pair of silent forms move toward them in the periphery of her gaze, and glanced worriedly toward them. She felt all of the blood rush to her toes when she saw Potter and a man she thought looked faintly familiar slinking carefully through the corridor. She crouched there next to Draco, frozen in place by her absolute terror at the sight of the pair, and she clutched at his arm to steady herself. Oh Merlin, don't let them take me back.

She felt Draco's hand on her own and he gave her a meaningful look when her breathing became laboured and she clapped a hand over her mouth, staring at him with wide eyes. The men were fast approaching, and her grip tightened as she awaited the moment they would turn and spot them.

But they didn't, and Ginevra realised too late that Draco must have cast a Disillusionment Charm on them. The two continued on their way, utterly oblivious to Ginevra and Draco huddled in plain sight... until a hiccup slipped from between her lips.

The men whirled around, wands at the ready as Draco clapped a hand across her mouth and they sat, frozen. Potter peered down the hall warily before motioning to his partner. "Neville, scan the area. I'll take offensive."

Neville tensed, his lips parting as he prepared to cast a spell, and while Ginevra quivered in anticipation of her unpleasant fate, she dimly registered Draco moving beside her.

They were about to be caught, and Ginevra would spend the rest of her life trapped in a cell, alone, and the worst part was she was going to ruin the life of the man she loved right along with hers.

This was it. I've lost everything.

Then Draco threw something to the ground, and they were all plunged into darkness.

Author notes: Thanks to all who have reviewed and enjoyed the story so far. If you have any concrit, feel free to review. ;)