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.