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.